Chapter 1 I could feel his eyes watching me as I crossed the kitchen. I sat down at the table, smiling sweetly up at him, and leaned forward to grab the syrup from across the table, pressing my breasts against the wood, my cleavage on clear display. “Here, Mia.” My mother set down a plate of pancakes in front of me. She looked down at me leaning against the table and shook her head. “What did I tell you about wearing such low-cut shirts, Mia? You’re not a little girl anymore. Men are going to look at you.” I know exactly what I’m doing, I thought. And I know exactly who I want to look at me. I looked up at my mother. Her hair was in a bun on the top of her head, her makeup perfect, her business suit ironed and immaculate. As she walked away, her heels clicked across the tiles of the floor. I picked up my fork and speared a piece of pancake. As I lifted it to my mouth, I raised my eyes and caught my stepfather staring at my chest. He looked up hurriedly and frowned. I smiled and slowly put the pancake between my lips. “Mmm,” I groaned. “So good.” My stepfather looked back down to his paper. Though he pretended to be reading, his eyes weren’t moving and I knew he was trying not to look at me. I reached back across the table for a napkin and watched as his gaze flitted up for a second to my cleavage. It was a good morning for my girls. I hadn’t milked them in almost twenty- four hours and they were taut and swollen with milk. My pale breasts were practically spilling out of the top of my tank top, and I could feel my nipples hard against my bra. I glanced down and noticed with satisfaction that they were poking through the fabric. “So,” my mother said, clicking back over to the table. She sat down with another plate and forked a piece of pancake into her mouth and chewed it a few times. “What are you two going to do this weekend while I’m away?” It was the first weekend of the month, and as always, my mother was leaving town for a work trip. With my friends out of town for the summer holidays, there was nothing for me to do but to hang out at home with my stepfather. Which was fine by me. “I don’t know,” I said. I looked over at my stepfather. “What do you think, Daddy?” My stepfather, Jack, cleared his throat and folded the paper. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I have a bit of work to do, so I’ll be in and out of the house.”“Well, make sure you two spend some time together. Mia’s only home from college for another two weeks, and then we won’t see her again until next summer.”“Yeah, Daddy,” I echoed. “Let’s spend some quality time together.” My stepfather pushed himself up from the table and grabbed his plate and mine. He walked over to the sink and I followed him across the kitchen with my eyes. He was wearing a light blue cotton button-up and a dark pair of chinos that gripped his ass nicely. My mother downed the last of her pancake and stood from the table. “Okay,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag. “Time for me to go.” She leaned down and pecked the top of my head and then walked over to my stepfather. He turned around from the sink where he was rinsing dishes and she wrapped her arms around him and he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Goodbye, honey,” she said. “Make sure to behave yourself.” My mother walked out of the kitchen side door, picking up her suitcase as she passed by. My stepfather resumed doing the dishes and I listened as my mother started the car in the driveway and pulled out. When the sound of the engine had disappeared down the street, I stood up and walked over to my stepfather. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, running my hands up his chest and hugging myself to him, pressing my breasts into his back. The pressure eased out a bit of milk, and I felt the front of my shirt grow wet. My father stopped washing the dishes and held himself still. “So, Daddy,” I cooed. “It’s just you and me. What do you wanna do?” My stepfather broke away from me and walked across the kitchen, grabbing his car keys off the hook on the wall. I could tell by the way he was walking that he was half-erect, and he stood facing slightly away from me to hide it.

Chapter 2 “I, uhh, need to go to the store,” he said. His eyes flitted down to the two wet spots on the front of my chest and he swallowed heavily. “I’ll be back in a little while.”“Okay, Daddy,” I said, pouting my lip. “But don’t leave me alone too long. I get lonely.” My father said nothing and walked out of the door. I heard our other car start in the driveway and pull out into the street. Suddenly the house was very quiet, the only sound my breathing. I sighed and ran my hands down my body. “You can resist all you want,” I said, with no one but the empty house to hear, “but this weekend you’re going to fuck me.” My stepfather had been in my life for as long as I could remember. A few years after I was born my real father had left and my mother had gotten remarried quickly to a somewhat younger man. Jack was only 38, almost 10 years younger than my mother. He was a self-made man who had started a company when he was fresh out of college, becoming a millionaire by the time he was twenty-five. When he met my mother, he was already “retired” and traveling the world. In the bar that they both happened to be at during one of my mother’s work trips, Jack had been sitting by himself when my mother had come in after a long day. Something about his eyes, my mother had told me when retelling the story, had prompted her to approach him and strike up a conversation. Not long after, they were married. I had grown up thinking Jack was my real father, which, after puberty, had led to a lot of feelings of guilt on my part. I couldn’t explain it, but from the time I was interested in boys the only man I had ever thought of had been him. Even when I began to date the boys in my classes, I could not get him out of my mind. At night, it had been his hands I imagined caressing my body as I touched myself. But, as I said, I didn’t know for a long while that Jack wasn’t my real father. Instead, I had just kept my fantasies and my desires to myself. But then on my eighteenth birthday, Jack and my mother had sat me down and confessed the truth. Afraid I would be upset that they had kept it a secret from me for so long, they had been surprised to find me relieved. I no longer felt any guilt for whatever desires I had for Jack. And that night, as I touched myself, a plan began to form. What had been merely desire up until then was going to turn into reality. Two years later, here I was home from college for the summer holidays, sitting in the living room contemplating the moment when I would finally feel him inside of me. In the two years since finding out that he was only my stepfather, I had done all I could to seduce him. So far, nothing had come of it. But, with my mother gone this weekend, I knew that the moment had finally come. How did I know? Because it was obvious that he wanted me too. I could see it in the way he looked at me, at the way his eyes took in all the young, tight curves of my twenty-year old body. And I also knew that my mother and him were not happy, which boded well for me. In the ten weeks I had been home, I had never heard nor seen them having sex. And I had been on the lookout, even sneaking out of my room at night to listen at their door. No, all they seemed to do these days was fight or ignore one another. This morning had been a unique respite from their quiet struggle. As I sat on the couch, running my hands absentmindedly up and down my body, I thought over my options. I didn’t think it was going to take much. I had already caught my stepfather staring at me many a time. As the summer had progressed, I had begun to wear smaller and smaller clothes, showing off my breasts and ass, walking by him and bending over or sneaking up from behind and hugging him. I had even let him catch me changing once or twice, leaving the bathroom unlocked and standing there naked until he had come in for one thing or another, quickly apologizing and leaving. Of course, he never left without getting a good look first.

Chapter 3 And then there had been that night just over a week ago when my mother had been out with her friends and it was just the two of us alone at the house. I had been touching myself in my room as my father watched TV in the den, sliding my vibrator in and out of my pussy, imagining it was his cock pounding into me, when I had heard a quiet shuffling at the door. I had left it cracked open on purpose. Suddenly I felt his eyes on me, watching as I bent over on my knees on the bed, my ass to the door, my hand between my legs, fucking myself with my vibrator and moaning his name. For almost an hour I had masturbated for him, coming for him, wanting him to see and to know that he was the man I wanted. The morning after my escapade he had avoided me, as he had every day since then. And that’s when I knew I had him; I just needed the right time. And with the first of the month here, and my mother leaving town, this weekend was it. I heard a car pull into the driveway and the engine shut off. A key jangled in the door and I heard the door swing open and keys drop onto the counter. My stepfather entered the living room and I smiled at him from my position sprawled out on the couch. “Hi, Daddy.”“Hi, darling,” he mumbled. He fidgeted for a moment before turning away and walking towards the hallway. “I’m gonna go change and do some yardwork.” I waited until he had disappeared down the hallway before I pushed myself up from the couch and followed him. His bedroom door was open and I tiptoed quietly to it. His back was to me, so he didn’t notice me standing there. I watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a pile of dirty laundry. He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them and pulled them down and stepped out of them. Finally, he lowered his underwear and kicked them towards the laundry basket. “So, Daddy, what do you wanna do today?” My stepfather jumped and spun around, his hand instinctively going down to cover his cock. His face flushed red and he hastily reached into an open drawer and pulled out a shirt to hold over his crotch. “Mia, what are you doing here?” His tone was angry. Ignoring his vehement reaction, I grinned. “Oh, sorry, Daddy. I didn’t know you were changing.” I stepped into the room. “Don’t be embarrassed.”“You shouldn’t be in here. You’re my daughter.”“Technically I’m only your stepdaughter.”“I don’t know what you’re up to Mia, but it needs to stop.” I pretended to be confused. “What do you mean? I’m not up to anything.”“Like hell you’re not. Ever since you’ve come home this summer you’ve been walking around in bathing suits and short shorts and bending over and—”“You mean you don’t like it?”“I, uhh…I’m your father and—“ “Stepfather.”“I’m your stepfather, Mia. You shouldn’t do that.”“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrugged, and then winced. My breasts were aching from the milk that had collected in them. It had been too long since I’d expressed myself. “Ow.” I rubbed my hands over my breasts. My stepfather took a step forward. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone softening. “Yeah, my breasts just hurt.”“Is it time for them to be expressed?” I had been lactating since puberty, a fact my stepfather knew. One of my favorite fantasies involved him slowly fucking me as he drank my milk. “I think so. It’s such a pain in the ass though. I wish there were somebody around to help me.” I winked at him, and the anger that had been gone a moment before came back into my his face. “Mia, stop.”“I—”“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know what you are up to but you need to stop. This is not appropriate. Even if…I mean…even…uhh, just stop. I don’t want to hear anything else. Leave the room so I can put on some clothes.” Ignoring his command, I sidled up to him and placed a hand on his chest. I stared up into his beautiful green eyes with the most innocent look I could muster. “Daddy, why are you so angry?”

Chapter 4 I ran my hand down his chest. As I reached his navel, his free hand caught mine. “Listen, Mia. If you don’t stop, I’m going to ground you and your mother is going to hear about this. Now leave.” Without waiting for an answer, he spun me around and marched me to the door, pushing me out into the hallway and slamming the door shut behind me. I heard the lock turn and his muffled voice floated through the thick wood. “I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day. Got it?”“Okay, Daddy,” I said sweetly. I smiled and slid a hand into my underwear. As I suspected: I was wet. I waited until that evening when my father was sitting in the living room watching TV. As he had told me to do, I had avoided him the rest of the day. Instead, I had changed into my tiniest bikini and spent the afternoon by the pool, soaking in the hot summer sun, occasionally jumping into the water to cool off. More than once I had seen him pass by the window to the living room, his eyes jumping out to catch mine and look over my body before he had hurried away to do something else. “Daddy, I need your help.” I was wearing one of my skimpiest dresses, a tight black affair with a lot of cleavage that just covered my ass. I stepped in front of the TV and spun a quick circle. “What do you think of this dress?”“Mia—” I turned back to my father and stuck out my lower lip, pretending to pout. “Daddy, I’m just asking for your help. There’s no need to get angry. Now,” I said, smiling, “what do you think?” I spun another circle, looking back over my shoulder as I did so and watching my father’s face as his eyes flitted down to my ass and my long, freshly-shaven legs. “I, uhh—”“Do you like it?”“Yes,” he said cautiously. “I think you are…uhh…very pretty.”“Thanks, Daddy. I like it too. Just trying to decide which clothes to take back to school when the summer’s over.” I turned to the TV. “Whatcha watchin’?” My father sighed. “Just one of those crime shows. It’s pretty terrible.”“Oh, that’s too bad.” I stepped over to the couch and turned my back to my father. I kneeled down and looked over my shoulder. “Can you help me?”“Help you?”“I need help unzipping. It’s easy enough getting this dress on, but it’s really difficult getting it off. I always need someone to help take it off.”“Mia—”“Please, Daddy?” My father sighed and reached up to the zipper of the dress. His fingers touched my skin and I shivered. He grabbed the zipper and lowered it, the two sides of the dress falling away and revealing the back strap of my black lace bra. I heard his breath catch, and he quickly dropped his hand. “There you go.” I turned around on my knees and sat facing him. “Thanks, Daddy.” Knowing this was my chance, I shrugged the dress off my shoulders and it fell down to reveal the front of my strapless bra. My breasts were about to burst they were so swollen. Hints of my areolas were visible above the cups of my bra. My father looked down at my milky pale skin and inhaled sharply again. “What are you doing?” I smiled coyly and put a hand on my father’s knee. “Do you love me, Daddy?”“I do. But—” This was the moment. I went for it. “Do you want to make love to me, Daddy?”“Mia, enough!” My father’s hand grabbed mine and lifted it from his knee. In one swift motion he was standing. He jerked me to my feet, my dress falling down further but still clinging to my hips. “I told you to stop! This is not appropriate and I am not going to have it.” He stepped away from the couch, pulling me along behind him. With resolute stride, he marched down the hallway to my bedroom and pushed me inside. “I don’t want to see you again for the rest of the weekend, Mia!” I sat down on my bed facing him and looked up at him innocently. I spread apart my legs and pulled my dress up to reveal my crotch. My father’s eyes fell down to the small black thong I was wearing underneath. He froze.

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You're Jack, her stepfather, the man who's tried to maintain order in this house while she dismantles your self-control piece by piece. All morning, she’s teased you—leaning over the table, pressing her breasts together, moaning over pancakes like she’s being pleasured. You caught glimpses of her nipples through her shirt, saw the wet spots bloom when she hugged you from behind. You walked away, claiming you needed to go to the store, but really you just needed space—to breathe, to think, to calm the hardness in your pants. Now you're back, changing in your room, trying to act normal, when she appears in the doorway. She pretends innocence, steps closer, touches your chest. You command her to leave, push her out, lock the door. But hours later, there she is again—kneeling in front of you in that tight black dress, asking for help with the zipper. Your fingers tremble as you pull it down. The dress falls open. Her breasts swell against the lace, pale and heavy, milk threatening to leak. You try to look away, but you can’t. She asks if you love her. Then comes the question that shatters everything: 'Do you want to make love to me, Daddy?' You snap. You grab her, march her to her room, shove her inside. But when she sits on the bed and pulls the dress up, revealing the black thong soaked between her legs, you freeze. Your breath stops. Your pulse hammers. She looks up at you, parted thighs on display, voice soft: 'Are you going to punish me…or finally take me?'