Falling for My Dirty Uncle

She's my fucking stepdaughter.

I'm literally three, or maybe four, strokes away from just shooting out a gallon of cum after what just happened here. Holy hell.

But let's pause for a second, okay?

Because I shouldn't be having these feelings for Rhoda's daughter. I shouldn't be thinking about rubbing my cock in between her tits. About squeezing those melons together as my cock travels in and out of that flesh pocket.

I shouldn't think about squeezing that ass. About smacking it. About sucking that pussy.

God this is my stepdaughter.

That's the only thing that keeps me from carting myself off and jumping off the fucking Empire State Building.

The fact that she's my stepdaughter. No relation at all.

But what the fuck.

That's no justification for having my brain filled with swirling thoughts of lust, especially for someone so young.

So innocent.

Looks at me like a father figure.

Mainly, because I am her father.

In a manner of speaking.

Fucking Christ, I'm going to hell, aren't I?

You don't gotta lie to me.

The worst part is that the crowd is still clapping and looking at me as I make my way without any outward sign of distress.

I'm shaking Parker Trask's hand and looking out at them from the podium.

I know what they want to hear.

But all I can see is one woman.

The girl at the bar. She's standing up now. Her wide innocent eyes are taking me in. Her breath catches when she sees me looking at her and I look at the rise and fall of her breasts—even from all the way over here—and I start to forget who I am and what I'm fucking doing.

But just like the applause can take you by surprise, its quick death can be something that jolts you back to the present as well.

That's what happens to me and all of a sudden, I'm facing at least four hundred people dressed in their finest.

My mind completely fucking blanks as to what to say.

To be fair, when Joyce set me up with this speaking engagement, she gave me a list of things to say. I even have them here in my jacket pocket. I just have to get them out and read them.

But somehow, after seeing Penny, it doesn't seem like it's doing enough justice.

I know. I sound like an absolute fucking idiot. It doesn't matter what I say, as long as I say it and get the photo op, right?

That's what Joyce would say.

And normally, even for something like that I'd fucking begrudge her. But not today.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I say into the microphone. "Most of you won't know this, but I'm really wealthy."