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Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

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"Later, Daddy."

I couldn't answer him through the lump in my throat. The front door closed with a thud, and I collapsed against the back of the sofa andexhaled.

"Jesus, you're disgusting," I muttered, passing a hand over my face. The urge to go upstairs and rub one out was strong. It'd been so long since anyone turned me on the way he did. My cock was so hard it felt like I would burst if I didn't get it all out, but I couldn't. How could I jerk off knowing Ari had prompted this arousal?

I couldn't prove Anne right.

I pressed a hand down hard on my cock to adjust it so it didn't hurt so much.

"Damn."

It felt so good. Disgust and shame roiled into pleasure. I wouldn't do it to get off. Just to fuck. Ari's sweet face and plump lips flashed through my mind. Eyes so expressive, body just begging to be touched.

A choked cry startled out of me. My body stiffened as I came in my pants. A blissful calm washed over me as I fell back against the sofa, panting.

"Daddy, you okay?"

I snapped my head up. Ari was standing in the doorway, his eyes wide. How much had he seen? Had he heard me come?

My face flamed. I was pathetic, sitting there with pants full of cum from my almost incestuous thoughts of my stepson.

"I, uhm, I'm fine." Better to pretend nothing happened in case he didn't actually see anything. "Did you change your mind about going out?"

He brandished his phone. "I came back for this. I'm going now."

"'Kay. Have fun."

And stay away from the twisted son of a bitch that I am.He didn't need me adding this to his plate.

I waited until the car engine faded away before I ran up the stairs to hide the evidence of my sick perversion. In the bathroom, I changed out of my clothes and took a shower. I felt dirty. Even dirtier when my cock got hard again. Something that never happened so fast after I’d come.

What the hell's wrong with me?

I stumbled out of the shower, hastily dried off, and changed into a pair of pajamas. On my way downstairs, I passed Ari's old bedroom. I really shouldn’t invade his privacy, but just a peek would be all right, wouldn’t it? I pushed the door open farther.

On the bed was one bag. He didn't plan to stay for long, then. The stuffed sloth I’d won him at the carnival six years ago lay on the bed beside his bag. The open closet door revealed two dresses similar to the one he'd worn for dinner tonight. In the corner where his computer desk had sat empty for so long, an electric-blue laptop was plugged in. Nothing that couldn't be packed up and moved out again in no time.

I closed the door soundly and returned downstairs to catch the nightly news. Little good did it do me, though. I kept watching the clock. What was Ari doing now? He reminded me he was no longer a kid. He had the legal right to drink if he wanted to. To do things I didn’t even want to contemplate.

It was none of my business. Then why did thinking about Ari with some other man make me feel all tight and bothered?

If it wasn’t a school night, I would have drunk the disturbing thoughts away, but no such luck. Not even sleep was a reprieve. I dreamed of Ari, naked in bed with a man who turned out to be my next-door neighbor, Murray.

Disoriented, I woke up. The room was dark, the television timed out. My heart beat steady and hard inside my chest. What had woken me up? Was Ari home?

A thump sounded outside the house. What was that? I heaved myself out of the cushion and stood, still groggy and unsteady on my feet. The thumps continued, getting louder as I stumbled to the hall.

“Goddamn it, Ari. Your body’s made for fucking.”

I froze. The nightmare of a few seconds ago turned into reality. The voice wasn’t Murray’s. It couldn’t be, since he was dead, but Murray or someone else, did it make a difference? Envy burned in my stomach, but instead of giving in to it, I took a step back.

“Please stop.” I halted at Ari’s soft-spoken plea. “Please. I told you no. I don’t want this.”

“You’re so fucking good.” The gruff words were followed by a laugh. “Keep that up. Tell me how much you don’t want this.”

“I don’t. Get off me! Don’t touch me!”

I’d heard enough. I yanked the door open and stepped onto the porch, where Ari was being pushed back against the wall. A young man, taller than him, caged him in; his hands—what I could make of them—groped Ari’s backside while a much more slender Ari tried in vain to push him off.



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