I was fast asleep when I was suddenly jerked awake by a loud scream from the room across the hall. For a moment, I thought my mom was in trouble until I realized what was really going on: My mom and my stepdad were having intense sex.
My mom was moaning loudly, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against each other. I lay there in the dark, wide-eyed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The rhythm was relentless. I tried to cover my ears with the pillow, but the muffled thumps only made my imagination run wilder. Judging by the sound I was hearing, I could tell that my stepdad was fucking her in doggy position.
I wondered if they had completely forgotten that I was under the same roof with them. Because with the way she was moaning and the way he was fucking her, it was as if they thought they were all alone.
"Ohhh! Fuck yes!" I heard my mom scream amidst intense pleasure as the clapping sound kept coming.
My mom had married him only a few weeks earlier, while I was at school. I couldn't come home because exams had me tied down. I just returned for a one-month break, making this my very first night in my stepfather's house.
"Fuck! You are so sweet!" I heard my stepdad grunt and felt chills run down my spine. Suddenly, I began to feel horny. I could feel my nipples getting hard. I clenched my thighs, trying to subdue the urge. I was getting wet. His voice was like a deep rumble that seemed to settle right in the pit of my stomach.
I wasn't surprised that I was getting turned on just by hearing his voice and the sex sounds. His voice reminded me about everything that happened when I arrived in the morning.
The second I stepped into the house and saw him, my breath caught in my throat.
He was shirtless, dressed in nothing but his shorts. For a moment, I wished he had never married my mom. He was exactly my type, down to the last detail. As I stared at him, he looked back with an intensity I wasn't used to seeing from someone called “family”.
He looked so striking that I found myself questioning whether he was really forty-five, as my mom claimed. He had a type of body that could make any woman lose control. I nearly lost balance when he called my name in that deep, steady voice. His muscles weren't bulky like a bodybuilder's. They were a little bulky and lean, the kind that looked like they were made for pinning someone down.
His charming eyes and cute, lovely smiles sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core, leaving me damp and aching before I'd even gotten to my room.
I spent the rest of the afternoon actively avoiding him, terrified he might read the hunger written all over my face. The fact that he was my stepdad made everything feel dangerously off-limits. I knew I was dangerously close to forgetting my upbringing because of him.
Now, right opposite my room, he was fucking my mom. I had been wondering if he was also blessed down there as he looked. Now, hearing the way my mom was screaming, I didn't have to wonder anymore. He was definitely endowed.
The sounds coming through the wall weren't the sounds of a woman being handled gently. They were the sounds of a woman being thoroughly filled and stretched. I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing his large, tanned hands gripping my mom's waist as he drove into her.
"Please slow down!" I heard my mom cry out, and it made me become more jealous and more horny. I wished I was the one under him. I wouldn't tell him to slow down. Instead, I would tell him to fuck me harder.
I was expecting him to slow down, but he didn't. He kept slamming harder into her while saying dirty words. It seemed he wasn't a gentle man when it came to bedmatics.
The more I heard his voice and the clapping sound, the more I went crazy. I grabbed my spare pillow and hugged it tight between my legs, grinding against it. I could practically feel the heat radiating through the drywall.
The dirty talk was the worst part. He sounded so dominant, so completely in control of her pleasure. Every "Good girl" or "Take it" that rumbled through the wall felt like it was directed at me. I was panting now, my nightgown twisting around my waist.
It got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled my nightgown up, spread my legs, and shifted my already soaked panties aside. I let out a shaky breath as I began to rub myself, desperately wishing it was his finger. I knew I shouldn’t be doing it, but I couldn’t help myself. Something else had taken control of me.
As forbidden as it felt, I imagined him pinning me on his bed and fucking me just the way he was doing to my mom. My body kept betraying me with every wet slide of my hand.
My breath came in ragged hitches as I slid my middle finger deep inside myself. I arched my back, trying to synchronize my rhythm with the heavy, rhythmic clapping sound coming from the other side of the room.
In my mind, it wasn't my finger. It was his huge object of pleasure. I began to finger myself faster, mimicking the brutal pace I was hearing from the next room.
"Yes! Oh fuck, Yesss!!" My mother's voice rose into a shattered scream again. I heard his movements turn frantic as the sound of skin on skin became a blur of violent friction. He was going harder now, his low grunts sounding like a predator at the kill.
I increased the pace, desperately trying to reach my peak. I wanted to scream just like she was, but I had to stay silent.
"Fuck! I'm coming!" I heard my stepdad's guttural roar erupting from his throat. He was about to finish, and I wasn't even near my orgasm. I felt the rhythm through the wall change as he gave those last few desperate thrusts.
"Yess! Take it, baby!" I heard him grunt and could tell he was filling my mom with his cum. I pushed myself harder as I chased that elusive peak, but it was no use. I tried one last frantic burst of movement, but the spark died the moment the sounds from the other room faded into satisfied breathings. I couldn't achieve what I wanted. My body felt unsatisfied as the void inside me screamed for the real thing.
I could hear them whispering softly to each other, a low murmur of intimacy that made my stomach turn with envy. My finger felt small and useless inside me. I was empty, and no amount of imagination was going to fix the ache that had settled into my bones.
It was a sick, forbidden craving that could never be satisfied. Yes, I can't deny the fact that he was still my stepfather. It seemed like I could only fantasize and masturbate and may never have him.
I don't really know what had come over me. It was forbidden to crave for a man I was supposed to call a father. Frustrated, I finally pulled my hand away, wiped my damp skin against the sheets, and collapsed into a restless sleep.