When I went to bed that evening, I had not realized I was going to wake up a different man. It is often the case that change knocks at our doors when we least expect it, and we don’t see it coming until it’s looking straight at us, telling us it’s time to move on.
That’s what it was like for me. One uneventful evening, I went to bed. The next morning, the sun rose on a new me.
When she had moved in, a few weeks back, well, I am not blind. I could tell a beautiful woman when I saw one. But it’s not one of those thoughts one dwells upon too much. I was naive. I knew what a woman was, I knew that I liked women and wanted them in that special way. I knew how to use my hand to fulfill those urges. But had I ever been with a real woman? No. And surely my stepmother would be way too intimidating to even think about in those terms. A beautiful woman, yes. Of the same beauty of a statue in a museum. Ethereal, unreachable, abstract.
It all changed that night. I woke up. At first I didn’t even realize why I woke up. Was I thirsty? Was my room too hot? Too cold? Was it time to wake up already? Then my haze gave way a bit and I zoned in on it. On the cause of my sudden alertness. It was a creaking, a squeaking, a rhytmical thumping.
I was naive, but not that naive. I knew fairly quickly what was happening. My dad and Erin were.. going at it. Fucking. Smashing. Boning. My first reaction was to whisper “eww” to myself. My second reaction was to listen more closely.
The noise of the bed was quickly overwhelmed. By Erin. By her moans. She was loud. But even better. She was a melody. A concert.
She didn’t just scream her pleasure. She chanted it. How good could real sex feel? Well, juding from Erin’s moans, a whole heck of a lot. It was like she was announcing to me that sex was the most beautiful of all pleasures. And it made me want. It made me want sex. It made me want her. It made me crave. Suddenly, her image was stuck in my head. I could see her now. Fully. As a woman. I could see her eyes. I could see her lips. I could see her curves. Suddenly, Erin was a woman. A real woman. A beautiful woman. And suddenly Erin was spreading the gospel of carnal pleasure in my ears. Down my loins.
It was instinct more than anything. I grabbed my cock. I found it hard as a rock. I wrapped my hand tight around it. Without even thinking, I started stroking it. Fuck it felt good. It felt better than it ever had. She kept moaning. How could she think I couldn’t hear? Did she think I was deaf? Had I ever caught a glimpse of her boobs at the pool? I hadn’t realized. But now it’s as if I could see them right in front of me. Perfect. Beautiful in every detail.
I found a rhytm. She moaned. I stroked. She moaned. I stroked. She moaned. I strok.. I came. I came all over my bed sheets. I came all over my legs. All over my tummy. And I kept going. It hurt a bit. But I wasn’t satisfied. I needed more. She was giving more.
It felt like forever. She kept moaning. I kept stroking. The second time I lasted longer. And then I came again. Not a care in the world. I came all over myself. I was ravenous. Crazed. It felt like being there. It felt like it was me fucking her. And I wanted it to keep going. Forever.
Eventually it ended. Her moans became so quick, so high pitched, and then so deep. And then she sighed. And there was silence. She had cum. I could only imagine how it felt to have her cum. To watch her cum. To feel her cum. It must be pure heaven.
I was in love. That was the moment I fell in love with my new stepmother. And the moment I discovered what lust really truly feels like. Why did people lose their sanity over lust? That is what it felt like. I needed Erin.
When I woke up the next morning I knew two things: I needed to wash everything in the bed, and I needed to fuck Erin.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/plootw/inc_mast_my_stepmothers_moans