After wiping up the last couple of puddles, I wanted to throw the mop into the bucket, but I couldn't summon the energy. My arms ached, and my temper was foul as I cast a murderous glance at the washing machine. It sat there, bright red lights glaring at me like small beady eyes, as if to say, "Serves you right," while the round glass door matched the expression of someone who had pissed their pants. 

How I wanted to kick that thing, but that would have left me with a broken toe and a washer that still didn't work. I fumed. Then I noticed drops of water still hanging on the bottom edge and I viciously whipped the mop across the floor, taking twisted delight in the bundle of coarse yarn slashing against the ivory white metal casing. Talk about rage against the machine.

My victory dance ended quickly. I still had a pile of washing and no way of doing it. Inexplicably, the washing machine had dumped a tsunami over my kitchen floor instead of pumping water down the drain. Instinctively fearing this disaster was going to cost me an arm and a leg, I surfed the internet for a reputable repairman. 

After getting fobbed off by a couple of companies, a third said they would send someone that afternoon. "Is that okay?"

"I don't have much choice," I mumbled. Yes, I should have been grateful, but I couldn't cast off the resentment coursing through me. 

The informed me that their man would probably arrive at four. With lots of chores still to do, but no energy to do them, I collapsed on the couch, picked up my tablet and searched for something exciting to read on Lush.

A van duly arrived at ten past four, — time flies when you're reading horny tales of sex and debauchery — and it was with damp panties, erect nipples and a flushed face that I rushed to open my front door for the repairman. However, not wanting to appear like some desperate, sex-craved degenerate, and assuming the repairman would appreciate a nice cup of tea, I left the door open and retreated to the kitchen to both calm down, and switch on the kettle.

"Hello, anybody home?"

Despite having seen the repairman's arrival, my heart missed a beat when I heard the deep masculine voice; not because it surprised me, but because it sounded so bloody familiar. "Come on through," I yelled, wondering if my imagination was playing tricks on me. "In the kitchen." 

Heavy footsteps approached, and another "Hello" resounded through the hallway.

"In here," I replied, holding my breath, while my heart raced, and my imagination ran riot. Sure enough, when the repairman entered my kitchen, carrying a massive case of tools, the look of surprise on his face was priceless. 

"Hello Dan," I said, grinning broadly. "How are you?" 

o0o

Dan Smithers had been the last of my many stepfathers during an unhappy childhood. Despite never having or wanting kids, Dan hadn't run when he found out about me, preferring instead to see his new girlfriend's sixteen-year-old daughter as one of life's challenges that fate sometimes deals out. 

For a couple of years we lived under the same roof I made his life hell, I was an undisciplined, pubescent teenager, but Dan always treated me as a young lady and never forced his ideas upon me. Instead, he would challenge me to work out things for myself and then, hopefully, form an educated opinion. It was something I found disorientating at first but gradually grew to appreciate. 

I can only recall him losing his temper a couple of times, but instead of giving me the bollocking I probably deserved, he'd say how disappointed he was and walk away. That approach was a more devastating punishment than I could ever imagine and usually made me regret my behaviour. 

Then Dan found out what a two-timing, lazy good for nothing bitch my mother was. It all happened about a year after I'd left home. He caught her fucking someone she shouldn't have — my scumbag boyfriend — in their so-called marital bed and ended the relationship. And now you know why I hate my mother so much.

Honestly, I was surprised it took Dan so long to find out about her infidelities; It certainly wasn't the first time she'd been unfaithful. How do I know? I'd seen it happen often enough when I lived under her roof. She usually went astray when Dan was working away for a few days, and it followed a predictable pattern. One of Dan's so-called mates would drop in, usually on a false pretext. Beers would appear from the fridge, and as Mum and Dan's friend steadily consumed them, the conversation gradually became more loaded.

Ignoring my presence, Mum would flirt outrageously with her 'guest', and when this was reciprocated, I knew it was time for me to retire to my bedroom. One thing would lead to another, and more often than not, the evening ended up with Mum on her back, wailing like a bitch in heat, while Dan's so-called friend fucked her. To this day, I don't think she realised I knew about her indiscretions, and if she did, it didn't worry her. 

I can still remember the first time I witnessed her adulterous behaviour, and how disgusted I felt knowing Mum was nothing more than a council estate slut. However, being an impressionable sixteen-year-old, I was scared of the consequences if I told Dan what I'd seen; so I kept quiet. But that didn't stop me hating myself, or my Mum for putting me in such an uncomfortable position. In hindsight, I should have known better. Dan wasn't the type to unduly apportion blame, he was better than that, but I didn't want to take the chance of him leaving us because of something I'd said. He was, by far, the best thing that had happened to me, and I didn't want my happiness to end. But that was a long time ago. 

Dan's departure filled me with both joy and sadness. Mum's comeuppance had been a long time coming, and even though I'd long since moved out, it upset me knowing I'd probably never see Dan again. 

Why should that upset me?

Well, I have a dirty secret to confess, one that I'm somewhat ashamed of if the truth be known. Despite Dan being the kindest person in my life, and the only one who treated me like I was a decent human being, to say my behaviour towards him was reprehensible, would be a colossal understatement. In fact, I was a right bitch.

When I wasn't pushing his buttons with sullen teenage disobedience, I regularly went out of my way to tease him — or, at least, tried. I couldn't be too blatant — my bloody mother was always around, keeping a possessive eye on me — but I unquestionably pushed the boundaries of decent behaviour. 

For instance, after taking a shower, I'd put on skimpy panties and a loose top, then go and sit opposite Dan while he watched television. I'd position myself in such a way that he always had a view of my pert bum or camel toe, and I'd act as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening. Sometimes, I'd pretend to read a magazine, while casting furtive glances at my stepdad, hoping to see him ogling me. Truthfully, I don't know if he ever looked, but the idea of him getting turned on by my scantily-clad body excited me enormously. 

Occasionally, to throw a little oil on the fire, I'd innocently ask his opinion on something I'd read in the magazine. When he answered, I'd pretend to listen, but in reality, I was fantasising about stripping naked for him so that he could do all sorts of unspeakable things to me. These indecent thoughts always caused my adolescent body to react, and because I was a stupid little bitch, hell-bent on causing trouble, I'd deliberately adjust my posture to ensure Dan couldn't miss what I had on display. 

And I wish I could say that was my worst behaviour, but it wasn't.

Whenever a boyfriend was allowed to stay the night, I made sure everyone in the house could hear us having sex. Copying what I'd seen in porn movies, I would order my boyfriend too, "Fuck me harder" or "Give me your cock" and then moan so loudly it was a wonder the neighbours across the road didn't complain. Of course, the following morning, my mother would reprimand me, telling me to put a sock — or panties in it the next time; otherwise, there wouldn't be any more sleepovers for me. I always apologised, but I didn't mean a word. All that mattered was that Dan had heard me having sex. 

And that's how I repaid the only man who'd treated me as an adult, right up until I moved out. Although I saw Dan intermittently, Christmas and birthdays, that sort of thing when he broke up with my mother, all contact virtually deceased. 

Well, that was until a couple of years ago when I bumped into him while out shopping. After the customary greetings, we shared small talk for a few minutes and, despite any real evidence, I got it into my head that Dan looked at me with more than a casual interest. All my past lousy behaviour immediately flooded my memory, and it may come as no surprise to you, that shortly after this chance encounter, I did something that in hindsight, was both foolish and embarrassing.  

I made a dirty phone call to Dan. 

It was late, I was alone, had drunk more wine than I could handle, and I was incredibly horny. Lots of extenuating reasons why, but mostly because of how I remembered Dan mentally undressing me during our brief encounter. Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. 

I won't bore you with how I got his telephone number, suffice to say I can be quite resourceful when I need to be, and had it stored on my iPhone. Anyway, lying naked on my bed, recalling how I used to tease him, that sweet tingling between my legs grew more intense, and I dialled the number. 

I remember holding my breath while I waited for Dan to answer, and almost hung up when it took longer than I'd anticipated. When he finally answered, I told him my name was Susan and began talking. Luckily he remained silent while I babbled away, trying to turn him on with what I thought he might like to hear. At one point, Dan interrupted my drunken nonsense and asked if it was me phoning him. Shocked, I immediately denied it, repeatedly saying my name was Susan, and despite him having recognised my voice, I continued with my lewd narrative. 

In hindsight, I know I should have hung up immediately, but alcohol, loneliness and lust, all conspired against me. Let's face it, if I'd been able to think coherently, I wouldn't have called Dan in the first place, but I had, and there was nothing I could do to change that. And contrary to the truth, I was convinced he believed me, and drunkenly carried on. Dan, polite as ever, didn't hang up, and let me get on with it. 

When I asked what sort of women he liked, he virtually described me, something that boosted my swollen ego, and this innocent fun evolved into something more explicit. I started saying things like; how much I wanted to suck his cock, how wet I was thinking about him, how I wanted him to fuck me in — well, there's no need for specific details. Suffice to say, in my depraved, drunken state; I had enough Dutch courage not to care what I said. The truth is, a sober me probably would have died of shame! However, I can't change the past, so there is no point in worrying about it. 

However, during our conversation, I kept asking Dan if his cock was hard, and was he touching himself while he listened to me. 

"Yes it is, and yes I am," he replied dryly.

And in my state of intoxication, it never occurred to me that Dan might not be telling the truth. So while I lay there, gently caressing myself, I imagined him busily tugging his cock, while he listened to, and answered my questions. When I asked if he would like to fuck me, and he said he would, I demanded him to tell me what he would do. 

Patient as ever, Dan described in graphic detail how he would take me, and listening to him, I vigorously fingered myself. Although looking back, he was probably saying the things I wanted to hear. However, whether he meant it or not, it didn't matter — I still achieved a sizzling orgasm. 

So, in its uncensored and perverted detail, that's our history. Right now, though, Dan was in my kitchen, staring at me with a gobsmacked expression… 

o0o

"Jesus, Andrea, what are you doing here?" 

When I said I could ask him the same thing, he grinned. "I'm here to fix your washing machine. Why, what did you think I was here for?" 

I had the good grace to blush before remembering my manners and the reason why I was in the kitchen. "Do you want a cup of tea?" I asked, recalling how he loved a tasty brew.

Dan took a moment before replying. "Sure, why not? You're my last customer today, so nobody else is waiting for me. First, let me see what the problem is, and then we can catch up on old times." 

Despite wanting the machine fixed, I was so happy to see Dan that I didn't want him wasting any time on my laundry problems. However, his common-sense approach convinced me there was time enough for everything.

Soon, amid colourful language and pieces of machinery on the kitchen floor, the problem was diagnosed. A leaking hose was the culprit, and Dan had it replaced within the hour.

"Now, how about that cuppa?" Dan said, washing his hands. 

Five minutes later, sat at the kitchen table drinking his tea, Dan watched me fill a load of washing into the machine, and as we talked, I noticed him giving me the once over, particularly gazing at my legs. Because I was on my haunches, my short skirt barely covered my legs, and there was a lot of bare flesh on display. Seeing him watch me, I felt a familiar buzz of excitement run down my spine. 

While I continued filling the machine, we talked, and after the usual chitchat, the conversation took on a more personal direction. 

"Yes," he said, "I'm seeing someone, but it's nothing serious." 

"No," I said, "I'm single again. The kids are fine. They're with their father for the weekend and won't be back until Sunday evening."

Then Dan asked the question I hoped he wouldn't. "How's your mum?" 

I bit the nail on my thumb and told him I hadn't seen her since he walked out. He almost choked on his tea but recovered admirably.

Having loaded the washer, I switched on the repaired machine. Winking, I said, "Now we'll see if you're as good as you profess to be." 

I joined him at the table, sitting adjacent to him with my long legs stretched out. Provocative, I know, but some habits die hard. Unfortunately, Dan seemed intent on dampening my mood.

"So, you and your mother don't get along, then?"

"No." I shook my head. "Have you seen her since..." I let the question hang in the air. 

He shook his head. 

"Here." I handed him my iPhone. "That's a recent photo of her from Facebook."

When he reached for my phone, our fingers touched, and I unexpectedly gasped. 

"Whoa." Dan's eyebrows rose dramatically. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't what I showed him. 

"Terrible, isn't it?" I said, twisting a knife in her back. The picture didn't do my mother any favours and his haunted expression pleased me. Even though I hated her, I occasionally checked up on her through her various social media accounts and found this recent photo of her. Whenever I looked at it — not very often — I wonder whatever possessed her to post it. 

"The years haven't been kind to her, have they?" He tutted and shook his head in what seemed genuine concern. Then his eyes sparkled. "Good job I got out when I did." 

"That's what you get when you hook up with older women," I said, crossing my legs, and allowing my skirt to ride a little higher up my thighs. Dan's gaze flicked over the exposed flesh and the spine-tingling sensation I used to feel as a precocious teenager, flushed through my veins again.

"What can I say, Andrea? I've always had a thing for older women."

"You say that, but have you ever had a relationship with someone younger than yourself?" I demanded, casually raking my hand through my hair, remembering Dan liked the tousled look. 

"That depends on how young you mean," he replied defensively. "I'm definitely not interested in jail-bait teenagers, but there are a few tasty mothers I wouldn't have minded spending a rainy Sunday afternoon with." He tried to keep a straight face but failed. 

Pressing a finger against my lips, I gazed into space between us. 

"I wasn't thinking about Sunday afternoons, Dan, I was talking about single mums who've had their day ruined by malfunctioning appliances. And having time on their hands and an itch that desperately needed relieving," and the word "desperately" was spoken in my huskiest voice, "have spent the afternoon fantasising about screwing the repairman when he arrives." 

Dan laughed loudly. 

"What's more," I continued, "said repairman would probably find out they weren't wearing any knickers because all their dirty frillies are in the washing machine that —"

"Has just gone tits up," Dan interrupted before bursting into infectious laughter. We'd always shared the same silly humour. With tears running down my cheeks and my belly aching from laughing, I heard Dan trying to regain his composure. 

"Seriously, Andrea, you've been reading too many of those magazines," he said, struggling not to laugh again. 

I shrugged. "You could be right, but us women have sexual cravings as well you know. All I'm saying is... well, crazier shit has happened."

"That's true." Dan was a little too thoughtful for my liking. Then he leaned toward me and spoke as if he was discussing state secrets. "Since we're on the subject of crazy and unbelievable shit, did I ever tell you I once received a dirty phone call?" I shook my head. "Probably from one of those desperate women you've just described, Andrea." Then he barked a harsh laugh. "Me, getting an honest to God dirty phone call," he mumbled, staring sightlessly in front of him.

"And?" I felt the blood draining from my cheeks.

"Yeah, this woman… incidentally, she sounded a lot like you… professed, very drunkenly, to needing my body to satisfy her sexual needs." 

I hoped I wasn't blushing too obviously. "You're pulling my bloody leg?" 

Dan shook his head so vigorously I thought he might injure his neck. 

"What did you do?" 

"I listened to what she had to say," he stated, a bit too smug for my liking. "She was very explicit about what she wanted and how she wanted it. To be honest, I enjoyed listening to her."

"You fucking pervert," I giggled. "So what did this harlot have to say?" 

Dan grinned. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's just say I'm curious." I gave him my best' butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' expression, but he wasn't buying it.

"Okay, but only because it's you that's asking." He took a deep breath." It was some time ago, and she seemed to take her time getting to the point, but I remember this harlot — your word, not mine — promising to suck my cock, and make me cum all over her face..."

"Nooo." I covered my mouth with a hand. If Dan could recall this, what else did he remember? 

"After going down on her, she wanted me to fuck the ass off her," Dan continued. 

"I'm sure she didn't say that." 

"She ruddy well did," he retorted. "She said, and I remember it clearly —" Dan paused, making a show of recollecting her words. "'I want to feel your big lovely cock slide into my ass, stretching it wide open, and then have you fuck it hard, until you shoot all your cum inside of me.' As I said, I think she was a bit drunk."

"She must have been," I responded in feigned repulsion. "Disgusting. What sort of slut would say something like that?" I continued guardedly. The unexpected turn in the conversation was turning me on, and the warm moisture between my thighs made me feel very self-conscious. 

Deep down, I knew this whole situation was on the wrong side of decency, but I couldn't change the way I felt. I wasn't Dan's pubescent stepdaughter anymore, but he was still my ex-stepfather and should have been off-limits. But I was an independent woman now, with adult needs and desires, and this raunchy conversation had the expected effect on my body. I didn't need to look at my chest to know my nipples were advertising my arousal: I only had to watch Dan's eyes continually flicking over them. I risked a furtive glance at Dan's lap and was pleased to see a bulge. 

"I don't know what sort of a woman says such things," Dan said, "but I wouldn't mind finding out. I mean, what guy wouldn't?" He offered an impassive face.

"So, Dan, if I understand you right, you're not opposed to having sex with younger women... assuming they talk dirty to you over the phone, and are prepared to let you have disgustingly perverse sex with them?" I liked my touch of sarcasm.

He nodded — then instantly shook his head as if trying to work out if he'd given the wrong answer or not. It didn't matter; I'd already made my decision. I stood in front of him and reached for the zipper of my skirt. With the help of a few wiggles, the garment slithered down my thighs and exposed my soaking wet knickers to Dan. Then placing a leg either side of his, I shuffled forward until the stubble on his chin was literally touching my moist underwear. 

"I know I used to tease you when I was younger, but I'm not doing that now, Dan. I want you," I said, chest heaving while I watched his face for a reaction.

At first, Dan seemed dumbfounded but recovered quickly. "You lied," he exclaimed. "You said you weren't wearing any knickers." 

"No, I didn't," I countered. "I inferred, but never said I wasn't. Anyway, what do you care? Can't you see how turned on I am?" 

"See it? I can smell it, you dirty little slag" He made an exaggerated gesture of sniffing the air. "Come here." With that, he grabbed my ass and pulled my abdomen forward. His mouth covered the dark stain in my underwear, and a hot breath wafted over my welcoming sex. Then he pushed his tongue against the cleft in my camel toe, and my spine tingled. 

Although I was thoroughly enjoying Dan's tongue lashing, I suddenly felt my panties being roughly pulled down, exposing my dripping sex. I hardly had time to breathe before Dan pulled me against his eager mouth, his lips encompassing my swollen clit. While he teased me with the tip of his tongue, Dan put a hand between my legs, and two fingers probed my dripping wet hole. Gritting my teeth to stifle the inevitable screams, I abandoned myself to the pure, unadulterated pleasure of Dan expertly bringing me toward orgasm.

When I came, it felt like a raging tempest. Cum flooded my cunt, and I moaned, cried and shook like I hadn't done for a long, long time. While trying to maintain my balance, I held Dan's head as powerful convulsions racked my body, and through it all, he kept teasing my clit with his thumb, as loud slurping came from down below. Not once did he stop lapping up my precious nectar, his tongue continually dipping into my sex, until, with cum trickling down his chin, I had to push Dan's head from between my thighs, his devotion to duty becoming too painful. 

"Not bad for an old geezer, eh?" He grinned wolfishly, his mouth and chin glistening with my juices. 

"Not bad, not bad at all." I nodded "Mind you, we've only just started, and I can be quite demanding when I want." 

Breathing heavily, I cupped Dan's head and leaned forward until our lips touched. Our tongues entwined, and the sweet taste of cum, mingled with Dan's saliva, tantalised my taste buds. Smouldering embers of passion flared inside my belly; I wanted and was going to get more.

As we kissed, I ground my cunt — more explicitly, my clit — onto his hard kneecap, enjoying both the pain and delightful sensations coursing through my body. Immediately, I felt Dan squeezing my breasts, expertly undoing my blouse buttons and scooping my orbs out of my bra. I have generous, firm tits, and love having them fondled. Within seconds, Dan's kneading and pulling and twisting of my nipples, had me groaning like a porn star.

"You fucking bastard," I mumbled between kisses, "I want your cock." 

While fumbling with his stupid belt buckle, I felt the raging hardness beneath it, waiting for me to free it from captivity, and I grew impatient. As I increased my efforts, I fleetingly wondered if my prick teasing back in the day had ever aroused Dan, and I made a mental note to ask him. Undoubtedly, this curiosity had something to do with the urge to get even with my mother. 

Although I despised the way Mum lived; she just didn't give a fuck what people said about her, her philosophy proved to be a bittersweet pill. Having always drawn inspiration from people who buck the system, her carefree attitude actually appealed to me, except for one small detail; I consistently found myself immersed in the collateral damage she invariably left in her wake. 

Talk about being fucked up. 

That said, I've never forgiven that woman for the humiliation I felt after finding out she had slept with not one, but many of my boyfriends back in the day. However, unlike her, I'm not a town mattress, despite what small-minded gossip-mongers proclaim, and her betrayal hurt me deeply. Nonetheless, because the sins of a parent are usually projected onto the child, and with my mother being the ultimate sinner, I'm often the subject of pointed fingers. 

Knowing it would only be a matter of time before Mum heard about Dan being here, and because the way the grapevine works in our little town, each regaling would grow more lurid in detail, I wasn't going to deny or confirm anything. Mum would know, and I hoped it hurt her. As my fingers tightened around Dan's throbbing erection, I knew I should have talked about this with a psychiatrist, and on any other occasion, I would have; but not now. This wasn't a time for talking; it was a time for action. 

I wanted him, wanted him badly, and redoubled my efforts to undo his trousers. Juvenile fantasies with Dan in the starring role, each refined over the years were incentive enough, and now I had him all to myself. No Mother giving me the evil eye when she caught me being precocious; and Dan, if he ever had, didn't have to pretend to ignore me. Now he could enjoy the show. 

In the past, I'd speculated about how large Dan was, and now I knew. He wasn't going to break any world records, but there was definitely enough to make me grin like a little girl. On the face of it, the whole situation was surreal, except for one thing — the long, thick cock, poking through Dan's boxers. He saw my goofy smile and grinned smugly. 

"Does Andrea like what she sees?" 

I nodded enthusiastically. 

"Why don't you show me how much you like it, just like you promised you would when you called me that night." 

Our gazes locked. 

So, he definitely knew I'd made the dirty phone call. I should have known I hadn't fooled him, but being drunk at that time, I wasn't in a fit state to make sensible decisions hence the dirty phone call. However, today, I wasn't intoxicated; at least not with alcohol. Carnal lust was coursing through my veins, and Dan had just made a valid point: one is only as good as one's word, and I had a significant promise to keep. 

Shrugging off my blouse, I reached around and loosened my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. Only when I was all but naked, did I drop to my knees between Dan's splayed legs. Clutching the base of his engorged manhood, I looked into his eyes, licked my lips, and then lowered my mouth over his glistening glans. 

Sliding my tongue over Dan's swollen dome like it was some erotic ice cream cone, salty sweetness coated it, as my hair fell in front of my eyes. His body shuddered in pleasure, and he reached to pull back my hair. 

"I want to watch you suck my cock," he announced in a guttural voice. Pleased he was enjoying my skills, I slid my mouth down the thick, fleshy shaft, removing my hand only when my lips made contact with it. Then I continued swallowing and didn't stop until his wiry pubic hair tickled the tip of my nose.

That elicited a deep groan. "Jesus, Andrea, you're a fucking unbelievable cock sucker and a damn right dirty bitch." A gruff chuckle accompanied this statement, and another hand landed on the back of my head. Powerful fingers entwined in my hair, while I pushed back against the hands restraining me. Holding the base of Dan's cock, it wavered in front of my face, long tendrils of drool still connecting us, while I informed him I was just getting started. 

For the next few minutes, my world consisted of my mouth, Dan's cock, and my attempts to make him cum. I swallowed him deep, twirling my tongue around his thick girth. I grazed my teeth over his sensitive dome, feeling him shudder each time, and I sucked and licked his gorgeous prick like it was some fleshy popsicle. I gauged my success by Dan's reactions — the gentle way he kept saying how good I was, the rough manner in which he entwined his fingers into my hair, and, of course, the determined way he continually thrust his manhood between my lips. 

Suddenly, well, maybe not so suddenly, Dan's moans grew louder and more frequent. His pelvic movements increased in both speed and intensity, and the grip on the back of my head became more urgent. Needing no explanation, I prepared myself for Dan's climax, despite my conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I wanted to be the one who caused Dan to shoot his load, but on the other, my perverted desires demanded I watch him jerk off over me. Depravity won. 

"Come on, Daddy, show me how much you want this," I sighed, leaning back on my heels and releasing him from my mouth. Then I clasped my hands behind my back and waited. 

"You're a dirty little cumslut, aren't you?" 

Nodding eagerly, I smiled wantonly. "Come on, then," I challenged, "shoot your load and cover my face with thick creamy spunk." 

He stood up and took hold of his cock. 

"That's it, Daddy, wank that big fucking prick," I urged, my gaze boring into him. Dan tried taking his time, and it was fascinating to see how he pulled back his foreskin, exposing the angry coloured helmet each time, but his need to cum took over. Watching him masturbating, part of me wanted to take him back inside my mouth, but I knew I had to wait. Sure enough, Dan's tugging increased in speed until his hand movements became a blur. Rhythmic grunting and lots of hip thrusting accompanied the moment supreme. 

"Aaaah."

The first expulsion was disappointing, in a strange sort of way. It was so powerful, a stream of thick cum took flight from Dan's cock and landed not only in my hair but also on my back; not exactly what I wanted. However, Dan's second eruption was much better. As if in slow motion, spunk bridged the gap between us, suddenly speeding up and splattering my face, from my chin to my forehead and down my cheek. I poked out my tongue to taste his cream, and another vast rope made contact with my expectant expression, crisscrossing the first salvo and almost making me flinch at the incredible power it contained. Automatically, I opened my mouth and leaned forward.

Guessing what I wanted, Dan rested the tip of his cock on my outstretched tongue, and more sperm was ejaculated between my lips, splashing against the back of my throat. 

Dan's orgasm was so powerful, he stood, panting as the last remnants of cream oozed onto my tongue. "I need to sit down, Andrea," he gasped, "before I collapse."

I giggled. "Don't worry, Dan, you don't need to prove anything to me. I'm loving every minute of this." 

Dan's eyes glistened, and a big grin split his face. I stood and walked to the fridge, picking up a towel and wiping my face clean before I grabbed a couple of beers. After giving one to Dan, I took a swig of mine and told him not to move. He raised his eyebrows, but I didn't say much more except to say I had to get something from the other room. I left him drinking beer and went to the closet where I kept all my important papers. 

When I returned, it was all Dan could do not to burst out laughing or choke on his beer.

"I always imagined you to be a dirty little freak," he smirked. "I just didn't realise how dirty."

o0o

Planting my 'gorgeous ass', Dan's words, not mine, back on my chair, I lifted a leg and rested it on the edge of the table before obscenely spreading the other one. Then, with the surprisingly soft buzzing sound filling the kitchen, I pressed my vibrator into my neatly trimmed bush. Dan had an unrestricted view.

Within seconds, the tip of the sex toy produced the delicious spine-tingling sensations I love, and unable to keep my emotions under control, I closed my eyes and released a long drawn out moan, pushing my abdomen against the plastic penis. Watching me masturbate had a stimulating effect on Dan because when I peeped through my half-opened eyes, his semi-erect penis was quickly returning to full glory. 

"Wank yourself, Dan." My husky, barely audible command left no room for ambiguity, and happily, he seemed content to indulge me in my kinky desires. Butterflies in my stomach did multiple backflips when he obligingly wrapped a hand around his thickening shaft.

"Don't cum yet, Dan," I warned, seeing how enthusiastically he masturbated. "At least not until you're inside me." I grinned, giving him my best 'fuck me,' expression. Pleased with his immediate prospects, Dan winked and slowed his pace to a more relaxed movement. 

Watching him masturbate so willingly while I continued to give him a show, was definitely a throwback to my adolescent attempts at teasing him, at least that's what a psychiatrist would say if my behaviour needed clarification, if I ever got round to visiting one. And, in all probability, the psychiatrist wouldn't be far off the mark. But I didn't care. Seeing how turned on Dan had become, increased my desire to be more outrageous, which more than likely heightened Dan's pleasure, which in turn… you get the point.

All I can say for sure is that my muscles tensed, my breathing grew more laboured, and contrary to the fact that my hand was moving faster between my thighs, I was losing control. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and embraced my depravity. As I teetered on the edge, I heard the scraping of a chair in the far distance. Then a voice seemingly from within the void called to me. 

"Here, let me, Andrea." 

Opening my eyes, I saw Dan kneeling between my spread thighs, his face only inches from my cunt. He placed a large hand on top of mine, taking control of both it and the vibrator I was holding. 

"Nooo," I screamed in defiance when he removed the tip of the vibrator from my clit. Before I could protest further, Dan leaned in and enclosed my engorged nub between his lips. That silenced me immediately. While he expertly flicked his tongue over my pleasure button, Dan traced the sex toy along the length of my slit, coating the thing with my copious secretions before positioning it against my back entrance. Then, with Dan's teeth nibbling my clit, his fingers plunging into my cunt, and the vibrator entering my tight little anus, it will come as no surprise to anyone: I climaxed gloriously.

Bucking and heaving, moaning and screaming uncontrollably, I grabbed hold of Dan's head as he kept up his sexual onslaught, which neither stopped, nor diminished… until he was ready for his next surprise. 

Like a rag doll thrown aside, I sprawled on the chair, slowly descending from the summit of Mount Orgasm, when Dan, rising onto his knees, buried his cock deep inside me with one powerful thrust.

"Oooh God," I wailed. 

"I knew you were waiting for this," Dan growled and vigorously pumped back and forth. 

"Oh God, oh God," I repeated, unable to concentrate on anything else than Dan's glorious cock stretching my juicy cunt. I gripped the chairs' armrest, and thrusting my abdomen forward, I mirrored his movements. More stifled moans filled the kitchen. 

It had been a long time since something like this had happened. Usually, after giving myself an orgasm, I'd rest back on the bed, frustrations relieved, and relax in the afterglow, before drifting off to sleep. However, things were different now. Dan's cock was sliding easily in and out of my sopping wet cunt, my vibrator, still buried inside my ass, was causing all sorts of delicious sensations to course through my body, and I was thundering towards yet another orgasm.

The obscenities escaping from my mouth, rapidly changed to commands for Dan not to stop what he was doing. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's point of view, and much to my immediate frustration, he ignored me. Withdrawing his cock, he stood and placed his glistening glans against my mouth.

"Suck it, you dirty little slag. Suck it good because it'll need all the lubrication you've got, where it's going. Just like you begged me, a long time ago." 

His smug smile told me all I needed to know, and tingles of both excitement and apprehension ran down my spine as I parted my lips to accept Dan's meat. 

"That's it, my girl. Get it nice and sloppy so that I can fuck your dirty little bunghole." 

Although my oncoming orgasm had been thwarted — only by a whisper, I might add — Dan's x-rated words made me gush so profusely I felt my juices trickling down the cleft between my buttocks, towards the vibrator still buried in my ass. I'd never imagined he could talk so dirty, and definitely not to me, which probably made the whole thing that much hornier. I decided to play along with him. 

"Mmmm, is Daddy going to put his big dick up little Andrea's bum?" I asked in a little girl's voice, holding Dan's manhood in front of my mouth.

"You're damn right he is," was the instant, throaty reply. "I'm going to fuck that sweet, tight arse of yours until I shoot my load right up your back passage. Now get sucking." 

Dan slapped his erection against my outstretched tongue, and again the engorged angry coloured dome pushed between my lips and continued towards the back of my throat. I reached out to caress his balls and instantly heard a very masculine groan. 

We could have stayed like that for a lot longer, Dan's cock fitted my mouth perfectly, but my ex-stepfather had other ideas. Without warning, he unceremoniously pulled me to my feet, and then pushed me toward the kitchen table. Only when the top of my thighs came into contact with the unyielding furniture did he stop advancing. I stretched my arms out in front of me, preventing myself from sprawling across the flat surface. 

Instantly, a stinging pain permeated through my right buttock, and as I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw Dan's hand flying down to connect with my backside again. Watching me, watching him, Dan grinned infectiously. "Sorry, Andrea, I can't help myself. Seeing your gorgeous behind winking at me so invitingly, I just had to give it a good spanking. Makes up for all those times you teased me." 

I blushed and bit my top lip, which elicited another stinging slap. My skin was turning a burning shade of pink, and the heat of Dan's spanking spread throughout my abdomen. When he stood back to admire his work, I reached behind me and removed the buzzing vibrator from my butt. Then, to blow Dan's mind, I ran my fingers between my pussy lips, gathering lots of slick nectar on them, and proceeded to rub the juices vigorously into my asshole. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Dan watching me, and when our eyes met, I gave him my most wicked smile.

"I can't wait to stick this in there," he rasped, nodding towards my bum and pointing the tip of his erection in the same direction.

"Nobody's stopping you, Dan," I replied huskily and grabbed my buttocks, spreading them. "Come and make your naughty girl scream." 

I'm guessing my lustful expression and my twitching ass proved too much for Dan. As soon as the words escaped my lips, his big prick was poking against my tight backdoor.

"Jesus fuck," he gasped as his cock slid easily into me. "I thought your mother was a horny bitch," he said, grabbing my hips and grounding his pelvis against my peachy buttocks. A throaty chuckle filled the room. "But she ain't got nothing on you, Andrea." He laughed some more when I pushed back against his loins. 

Although Dan's personal opinion pleased me, I wasn't interested in hearing about my mother. I wanted one thing and one thing only; and we'd made a good start. "Please, Dan, just fuck me. I need to feel bad today, and this is precisely what the doctor ordered." 

Dan tightened his grip on my waist and rocked his hips. For the first few thrusts, he took things easy, moving slowly but surely, each stroke long and deliberate. Although it was what I needed, I wanted more. I needn't have worried. Dan's longing for my ass began to govern his movements, and the thrusting increased in intensity and speed. The harder and quicker he pounded my ass, the more I liked it, and between all the guttural obscenities, I kept demanding more from Dan. 

I'm no China doll, and I need rough sex to get me off. Luckily, after Dan's initial hesitation, he didn't hold back. Each thrust was long, hard, deep and accompanied by a moan or an obscenity. It seemed to me, the more vocal I was, the better Dan liked it. His balls slapped against the back of my thighs, his pubic hair ground into my buttocks, and his fingers squeezed my hips. 

"That's it, Dan, fuck your little bitch," I wailed when he grabbed my hair. He pulled it so hard, my back arched and his mouth was inches from my ear. 

"Is this what you want, slag?" 

The palm of his free hand made sharp contact with my backside. One stinging slap followed another, then another, and I felt my skin heating up. My tits wobbled, my asshole burned with each powerful thrust, and my buttocks glowed like fire embers, with each successive smack.

"Yes," I gasped, as his pelvis pummeled into me again. "More," I begged, like a depraved slut, and bless him, Dan delivered. 

He fucked me with the strength and vigour of a horny teenager, and every time his abdomen slammed into me, he brought me closer and closer to yet another orgasm. I wasn't the only one close to climax. Between his cock pounding my ass, the rough and ready way he handled me, and my fingers buried in my cunt, the whole situation affected us both. Dan's heavy breathing filled my ears, and I told him I was cuming and begged him not to stop. Dan obliged — and I came beautifully.

Cum streamed over my fingers, my legs trembled violently, and I gulped for air. Tensing my muscles, trying to gain some semblance of control, I felt Dan thrust into me harder than before. Then I heard him moan and his grip tightened. He ground against my tender buttocks and searing hot semen spurted into my back passage. Another short thrust followed, and he released more spunk inside me, a shiver of delight running down my spine.

o0o

Dan ended staying the night. After we'd recovered, we ordered takeaway and talked about many things, but mostly sex. Having discussed what we liked and didn't like, we put our knowledge into practice, pursuing our sordid fantasies deep into the early hours. 

As for the washing machine, it's still going strong. Dan comes around fairly regularly to maintain it, and I don't have to worry about repair bills. Contrary to costing me an arm and a leg, as I initially thought, Dan gets paid in a manner that is beneficial to both of us.