Too Big For My Little Girl


“I Don’t know how you do it.”

I froze in the hall outside Stephanie’s room. My step-daughter was home from her first semester of college and had been in there for most of the week talking to her friends on the computer. This time though, she had the volume up a lot louder than usual.

“What are you talking about, Dena? Do what?” Her voice was sweet, just like the rest of her. I married Steph’s mom about six years ago, and at the time it was great.

Tina, her mom, was young, active and excited to be around me when we got together, but since then, she spent most of her time going away on business trips, or obsessing over her work. We barely saw each other anymore. Ships passing in the night, that kind of thing. For a long time, I worried that it was something I did to push Tina away, maybe how badly I wanted another kid or two. I only found out later that she did too, but she was just too obsessed with work to have time for a baby. That always stung.

“Your dad, step-dad, whatever.” Her friend’s voice snapped me out of my daydream. “I don’t know how you can be around him and not get, you know, horny as hell.” That got my attention.

“I...uh...I mean he’s my dad, you know? Always been there for me when I went through all kinds of obnoxious little girl stuff, high school stuff, you know? I can’t think of him like that. Even though you’re kind of right.”

She is? I leaned against the wall, careful to stay silent. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t at first. I’d never heard her say anything like this, even though I spent most of our time together since she got old enough to grow up forcing myself to look away from her beautiful body. It tore me up. She was so beautiful, reminded me so much of her mother when we got together, that it was hard to be around her, especially alone, like we were so often. That was just silly fantasy though; I knew I’d never do anything about it. I’m not that sort of man.

“You know I’d love to fuck that man. Every time I ever went over to your house, like last Thanksgiving? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody I wanted between my legs worse than your daddy.” As her friend rambled on, I put my hand in the pocket of my jeans and stretched my fingers.

I heard Stephanie giggle. “He’s such a good guy though. God, I was so awful to Jake – dad – for so long. I had this, like, t-shirt that I got from church camp when I was ten. I used to wear it around the house, but way, way longer than I should have.”

My cock swelled in my jeans. I remember walking into the house one time and seeing her laying on the couch, she was a senior in high school then. Big, round tits stretched against that Camp Lahoka shirt that hadn’t fit for ten years.

“Nuh-uh! Really? You’re such a dirty little whore!”

They both giggled as the tip of my dick bulged halfway down my leg. Through my pocket, I stroked the side. Listening to the two girls carry on, I rubbed my tip through my jeans in hard, massaging circles.

“Yeah, I was so awful. All I wanted was to get his attention. I donno. You know what else I did? I spent a whole lot of time figuring out exactly how to fold a towel so that it barely covered my nipples, and when I bent over – which I did a lot of – he got an eyeful.”

You’re not the only one who remember that, baby girl. She used to parade around the house barely covered up. Right after little Steph turned eighteen, I’d chased one of her asshole ex-boyfriends off and she spent most of the night crying in my arms. The next morning, I woke up early and made coffee. She came down stairs in a towel that was just like what she described. Just like yesterday I remembered the little pink circles around her nipples peeking out the top of her towel. I wouldn’t look though. I just refused. At least when she was paying attention. I couldn’t give in to that sort of thing, so I forced myself not to look.

Except for the one time she did that, turned around and bent down to get something off the floor. I looked over just in time to see her legs spread out and a little bit of pink between her tight thighs. I also remembered how hard I’d jerked off that night and how much cum shot out of me as I pretended I was stuffing my baby girl with my cock.

“Janie, can I tell you something?” My baby’s voice was lower as she spoke. The rasp of my hand over my jeans almost drowned her out. I stuck my hand down the front and squeezed my cock’s tip in a slow rhythm.

“Sure, I hope it’s dirty. You keep talking about your daddy and I’m gonna have to go get a shower.”