My Stepdaughter Waited Up for Me After Graduation

It took me years to accept that what was brewing inside my own house would eventually devour me. I tried every possible way: I kept my distance when I could, put affectionate gestures aside, shielded myself behind a coldness I didn’t feel. To me, Renata had always been the same as my other two children, even if she didn’t share my blood.

When Marina and I moved in together almost twenty years ago, Renata had just turned two. Thirteen months later my middle daughter was born; a year and a half after that, my only boy. No one in the neighborhood ever questioned who Renata’s father was: she was tall like me, quiet like me, and her classmates at school never doubted she was mine.

Everything broke the night of her graduation. For weeks she had been asking me to go with her; she said she wouldn’t go if I didn’t. We got to the venue after nine. She was wearing a dark dress that clung to her body like a second skin, her shoulders bare and her hair gathered in a high braid that exposed her neck.

The party went on for hours. I stayed at the back table with the other parents, watching her dance with her classmates. Every so often she came over to drag us onto the dance floor by the arm, laughing. She drank more than she should have. At four in the morning I sat with a coffee in my hands and started counting how much time was left before I could go to sleep.

I had told her earlier that if she decided to stay with her friends, she didn’t need to worry about me. At five, when they started turning off the lights in the hall, I sent her a message. She didn’t answer. I thought she had left with the group and walked toward the parking lot.

“I’m going with you, daddy,” I heard behind me.

Renata came barefoot, with her heels in one hand and her purse dangling from the other. The straps of the dress had slipped off one shoulder and the fabric seemed about to give way. She was walking unsteadily. She climbed into the passenger seat and left her shoes on the car floor.

I started the engine without looking at her. I wanted to turn on the radio, say anything to fill the silence, but she settled sideways in the seat, folding one leg under her body. The dress rode up to her hip, revealing a thin black thong that barely covered her cunt. I acted as if I didn’t see it and drove off, though I could already feel my cock thickening inside my pants.

“Would you be capable of doing something important for me and keeping it forever?” she asked when we got out onto the avenue.

Her eyes were glassy with alcohol, but her voice was steady. She rested a hand on my thigh, not too high, but not too low either.

“Depends what it is,” I said, trying not to let my voice shake.

The avenue was empty. I was moving at a crawl because I didn’t want to get home yet, not with her like that.

“I want you to teach me how to fuck,” she said, almost in my ear. “I want you to be the first one to put it in me. I’m the only one in my group who still hasn’t had sex with anyone.”

I braked slowly at a red light. I looked at her for the first time since she’d gotten in the car. Her lips were parted and a lock of hair had fallen over her eyes.

“That’s impossible, Renata. You know that’s impossible.”

Her hand slid up the inside of my thigh until it brushed the bulge I could no longer hide. She squeezed me through the fabric and I caught the smile escaping her when she discovered the size of it. I didn’t pull her away right away. That was my first mistake.

“It’s not,” she whispered, and squeezed again, this time from top to bottom, searching for the tip with her thumb. “No one has to find out. It would be our secret. You’re rock hard, daddy. All for me.”

I moved her hand away more gently than I should have. The light changed to green and I started driving again. I told her she was very drunk, that if she still felt the same way the next day we’d talk about it, knowing we were never going to talk about it.

I parked in the garage. I turned off the engine. I didn’t get out right away; neither did she. Before I could react, she leaned over the gearshift and kissed me. It was not a daughter’s kiss. It was long, decisive, her tongue going all the way into my mouth, finding mine and sucking it as if she’d been practicing for months. I let her lips stay there a second longer than necessary before I pulled away.

“Go to your room,” I said, not recognizing my own voice.

***

The following days my house turned into a minefield. Renata came down to breakfast in old T-shirts that covered nothing and a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass. Marina left at seven for her tennis classes, the kids for school. We were alone twenty minutes each morning. Sometimes half an hour.

She knew. She walked through the kitchen slowly, stretched up to reach something on the top shelf, let the garment ride up and show her waist and the low curve of her breasts without a bra. I averted my eyes toward my coffee and tried to think of anything else, but the image followed me all the way to my office, and more than once I had to lock myself in the bathroom to jerk off thinking of her before seeing my first patient.

“It’s decided,” she told me one morning, before leaving through the door. “It’s going to be you. I’m twenty and I’m the only one in my group. This is going to happen.”

She came closer. She kissed the corner of my mouth and then, brazenly, slipped her hand into my pants and grabbed my cock directly, with no underwear in between. The erection was immediate, brutal, and she jerked me a couple of times, feeling it grow fully inside her fist.

“The idea turns you on,” she murmured, pinching the tip with two fingers. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t. It’s already wet. I want to know what Mom feels like when you’ve got her impaled on this dick. I want to know how she screams when you shove it all the way in.”

That sentence cut the air out of my lungs. I almost grabbed her hair, bent her over the kitchen counter, and tore her panties off in one yank. Instead, I pulled away as best I could, told her I had an urgent work matter and went down to the building’s parking garage. It took me twenty minutes to be in any condition to drive, and another ten locked in the car emptying myself onto a handkerchief with her image still burned behind my eyes.

***

The following Saturday Marina left early, as always, with her tennis bag. I heard her close the door. Five minutes later, my bedroom door opened.

Renata came in without knocking. She was wearing a thin white T-shirt, so thin her hard nipples showed through the fabric, and nothing underneath but a tiny white thong that disappeared between her ass cheeks. She said nothing. She got into bed, settled against my body, and threw one leg over me.

I felt her breasts pressed against my side, her nipples digging in. The erection I’d been holding back for weeks gave me no time to think. Her hand slipped under the sheet and then inside my briefs. She closed her fingers firmly around my cock and started jerking me off slowly, sliding the foreskin up and down, exposing the tip, spreading the drop of liquid already beading there with her thumb.

“It’s huge,” she said softly, as if discovering it. “Much bigger than I imagined. It’s not going to fit all the way in me, daddy. There’s no way this will fit.”

“It’ll fit,” I told her in her ear. “All of it will fit.”

I kissed her. This time I didn’t stop to think. I bit her lip, grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her in until she was lying back against the pillow. There’s no turning back, I thought as I ripped her T-shirt up and over her head.

Two firm pink breasts, much bigger than her loose shirts showed, came into view. Her nipples were hard, dark, standing at attention. I moved my tongue down her neck, over her collarbone, until I caught one nipple carefully between my teeth, sucking it into my mouth, rolling it around with the tip of my tongue until she started to tremble.

She sighed and bit her own hand to keep quiet, though no one else was in the house. She learned quickly to let go of the bite. She grabbed my head and guided it to the other breast, pushing me to suck harder. I ran my tongue from one nipple to the other, bit them, stretched them with my lips until she arched. With my free hand I pulled her thong down to mid-thigh and ran two fingers through her slit. She was soaking, dripping, as if she’d been waiting for me for hours.

“You’re flooding,” I told her, showing her my shiny fingers before putting them in her mouth. She sucked them without hesitation, staring straight at me, never breaking eye contact.

I moved my tongue down to her navel, to the edge of her underwear. I dragged it off with my teeth, slid it down her legs, and tossed it to the floor. She was completely shaved, her pussy pink and swollen, her parted lips shining with wetness. I spread her legs wide with both hands and settled between them. I ran my tongue over her slowly, just once, from the entrance up to the clit.

Renata let out a short cry and covered her mouth with both hands. Her hips started moving on their own against my face. I held her thighs open against the mattress, buried my tongue all the way inside her cunt and moved it in and out, fucking her with my mouth, feeling everything tighten around it. I moved up to her clit, caught it between my lips and sucked it, teasing the tip, spinning it quickly, alternating with long licks. She tasted sweet, almost citrusy, and kept dripping onto my chin.

“Daddy, daddy, don’t stop,” she begged, her voice breaking, grabbing my hair, pressing my face harder against her cunt. “Keep going like that, please, keep going like that.”

I slid a finger into her while still sucking her clit. Then two. I moved them inside her slowly, feeling how tight she was, how her vagina squeezed my fingers like a fist. It didn’t take much longer. She arched completely, trembled from head to toe, bit the back of her hand hard enough to leave a mark. I felt her cunt contract around my fingers, felt a warm gush of fluid spill out and soak my wrist. When she went slack, a slow, satisfied smile stayed on her face, her mouth open, searching for air.

“Now you,” she said. “I want to feel it. Put it in me now, daddy. Break me.”

I knelt between her legs. I took off my briefs completely and my cock sprang free, rigid, pointing to the ceiling, the tip red and wet. She sat up, grabbed it with both hands, and stared at it, sizing it up, measuring it with her fingers. Then she leaned down and licked it from base to tip, kissing the head. She sucked it lightly, taking the head into her mouth, circling it with her tongue. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but her hot mouth and her eyes locked on mine made me let out a rough groan I didn’t recognize.

“Lie down,” I told her, pushing her gently back.

I brought my cock to the entrance of her cunt and stopped. I rubbed it against her wet lips, slid it up and down, wetting my tip with her slick. I warned her I was going to go slow, that if it hurt at any point she should tell me. She nodded with her eyes closed, biting her lower lip.

I started pushing in. I expected resistance, but the tip went in without a hitch, and kept going slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until my stomach was pressed against hers and I felt my balls resting against her ass. Renata opened her eyes, surprised, her mouth a silent O.

“Is that it? Is it all in already? All the cock inside?”

“All of it,” I told her. “All the way to the balls.”

I stayed still for a few seconds, letting her cunt get used to the thickness. I could feel every beat of hers around my cock, how it tightened and relaxed, how it yielded. Then I began moving slowly, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the hilt. She followed the rhythm, first unsure, then with confidence, lifting her hips to meet me, pushing up so I would go deeper. A thin streak of blood was left on the sheet.

“Harder,” she begged after a few minutes, panting. “I’m not going to break, daddy. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like I’m Mom.”

That word, said at that moment and in that bed, took away any remaining doubt. I pushed harder, both hands on her waist, driving into her with long, dry strokes that made her breasts bounce. She threw her head back and let out a rough sound I had never heard from her mouth, a guttural, almost animal moan that sank into the back of my neck. She clutched my arms, dug her nails in.

“Like that, like that, like that, daddy, don’t stop, never stop,” she repeated like a mantra, shaken by every thrust.

I lifted her legs and set them on my shoulders. I folded her almost in half and took her from above, dropping all my weight into each shove. Her cunt made a wet, obscene sound every time I penetrated her, a smack that filled the room. She clung to the headboard and screamed without covering her mouth, already forgetting that there was a house or neighbors.

“Turn over,” I ordered.

I made her turn over. She got on all fours, hips raised, face against the pillow, her pert ass pointing at me. I spread her cheeks with both hands, looked at her cunt still open from my cock, the entrance shining with slick. I thrust in from behind in one shot, all the way in, and she let out a howl into the pillow. Her hands searched for the sheets and gripped them. I held her waist with both hands and watched her sway against me with every forward drive, watched her ass rebound against my belly.

I grabbed her hair, wound it around my fist, and pulled slowly, forcing her to arch her back. She pushed her ass back to meet me, moaning every time my cock hit bottom. I ran my thumb over her asshole and she shuddered all over.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “Not there yet. Another day.”

“Whenever you want, daddy,” she panted. “Whatever you want. All yours.”

I let go of her hair, grabbed her hips, and sped up. I fucked her hard, fast, mercilessly, feeling her whole body shake with each thrust, feeling her cunt start to close around my cock, announcing another orgasm. She came with a muffled cry into the pillow, trembling all over, arching her back to the limit.

I felt it coming. I told her I was going to finish and she should move away. At the last moment she turned around, sat facing me on the bed, and finished me off with her mouth. She pulled me completely out of her cunt, dripping with wetness, and took me in without hesitation, holding my cock with both hands and sucking greedily, not caring about her own taste. Her head moved fast, her tongue working the tip, her right hand sliding up and down the shaft. I felt everything gathering at the base and warned her through clenched teeth.

She held me with both hands and her lips sealed around the tip, not letting go. I emptied into her mouth in three long, thick spurts, and she took them all, swallowing the first, letting the other two stay on her tongue. She kept sucking me slowly until nothing was left, until my cock started to soften in her mouth. When she let me go, she looked up at me from below, ran her thumb along the corner of her mouth to collect what had spilled out, and brought it to her tongue.

She sat up with a stupid smile. She kissed me on the mouth, long and slowly, letting me taste my own semen on her tongue, as if she wanted to engrave the moment into memory. She stroked my face, said thank you, and went into the bathroom to shower, taking the crumpled thong in one hand.

I stayed seated on the edge of the bed, looking at the sheet stained with her slick and that tiny drop of blood. Guilt came after five minutes, not before. I thought of Marina coming back from tennis, of my other daughter asleep in the back room, of the fragile balance I’d been holding together for two decades.

But I also thought of Renata climbing down from the car that dawn with her heels in her hand. Of the promise she had made me keep. Of the trap she had set and the one I had walked straight into, with no real resistance.

When she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, she came over and gave me one last kiss before going to her room. She told me, without looking at me, that that experience had been the best of her life and that if circumstances ever allowed it again, she had no intention of staying still. I didn’t answer. I closed my eyes and listened to her go down the stairs barefoot, just like in the early morning after graduation, as if nothing had changed in the house, even though something inside me had shattered forever.