The Dirty Virgin

And the woman gasped.

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I guess it’s from my days as a housekeeper. You know I had to clean so often that I love being sloppy now. Being messy and gross is like a strike against the universe, rebelling against my past.”

“I get it,” I said, putting my arms around her waist. “I get it, you don’t have to do that stuff anymore,” I murmured into her neck. And Lorena sighed happily, exhaling loudly.

“I knew you’d get it Mr. Markham, I knew you would,” she cooed, offering me her body again.

And I took it, pushing the incident out of my mind, but it kept happening. Used condoms kept appearing here and there, I would find those limp suckers on the bathroom counter, behind the toothpaste, in the medicine cabinet, untied, my semen slopping around messily. It was fucking gross but I got it, Lorena had been a maid her whole life and being messy now was her form of rebellion.

But those days of hot couplings seem to be growing few and far between now. Now, instead of getting to fuck her non-stop, Lorena’s drawing back, even withholding sex sometimes. Can you believe it? I married a penniless housekeeper for sex and now that we’re legally bound, she doesn’t feel the need to put out. The bitch has obviously never heard of conjugal rights.

But I still feel the need to dominate, the urge to assert myself, my libido growing ever stronger, more overpowering by the day. Except there’s another factor that I never considered … my stepdaughter Cleo. She was a skinny, pale twig when I first met her, someone who never spoke, just looked with big green eyes. But recently, she’s changed. Eighteen now, her body’s matured, that ass round and juicy, and fuck me, but she hasn’t been wearing panties lately.

I know … because she’s been watching me as I watch her.

CHAPTER THREE

Cleo

I want to tempt my stepdad somehow, but I’m not exactly sure how. I mean, I’m still growing into my new body, so while the outside me is now curvy and tantalizing, the inside sometimes still feels like gangly fifteen year-old, complete with acne and braces.

I’d heard my parents going at it again last night. As usual, my mom had spent the day by the pool doing absolutely nothing, and Drake had come home, stressed and anxious from work, needing a thorough blow job to relieve the steam.

I could hear through the door of his suite, the thick oak not enough to stifle their argument.

“On your knees,” he ground out, his voice low and commanding.

“Oh Drake,” said my mom breezily. “You’re so funny! Only lazy women do what their men say, I’m an independent woman now.”

“Fuck you bitch,” he rumbled again. “Get on your knees.”

And I’d heard my mom dropping down to the carpet, no doubt pouting like a spoiled brat. But the whining didn’t stop there.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” he growled.

I heard a shriek from my mom, probably because he’d grabbed her hair, and forced it in rough. That thick, ten inch cock out, ready to do damage on her throat and mouth … mmmmm.

But my mom wasn’t having any of it.

“No Drake!” she cried. “I just got veneers, my teeth are going to rub off on your dick, tonight’s not a good night!” she squealed helplessly, her voice going up about an octave.

With a massive roar of anger, Drake must have thrust my mom to the side, I heard a triumphant giggle as my mom stood up. Daddy had evidently given up, the veneer excuse too ridiculous and a fucking turn-off.

“Bitch,” he ground out, heavy footsteps fast approaching the door.

I jumped back and made like I’d just happened to be passing by, but it was too late. When the door swung open and my stepdad saw me, I think he knew that I’d overheard their exchange. “Hi … hi Daddy,” I said in a small voice.

Drake didn’t utter a word, instead striding down the hall in long, sure steps to his study, slamming the door behind him. But I’d seen that dong. Still erect, it’d strained at his fly, the length so thick and long that it wrapped all the way around his hip, the bulge making my mouth salivate.

And oh god … I wanted it. Wanted it bad.

CHAPTER FOUR

Drake

A knock came on my study door.

“Daddy?” a little voice called.

Fuck! This was such awful timing, I couldn’t believe Cleo had overheard my humiliation at the hands of her mom. Lorena had fucking gotten out of hand, and I was about to dial my lawyer to divorce her. Why did Cleo have to interrupt now?

But my thoughts turned to my little step. Truth be told, I was starting to notice her more and more. It wasn’t just the way that she was the complete opposite of her mom, in looks and demeanor. It was her youth, her freshness, that untouched teen beauty that only the young have. I sighed. Fuck, this was my step-daughter. It felt like a crime to even think about her like this.