This is a fictional story, but is based on the fantasy of a former partner – dating back to her freshman year in college.
She had a well-developed fantasy centered around the staged seduction of her stepfather, one she adored acting out with any faux father-figure. What would begin as encouraging him to be her personal voyeur would soon evolve into more explicit acts: tempting him into taking what she’d always been ready to give.
Story is told from her perspective.
After a long night I can sleep through almost anything. Still – I’d wake up to his morning visits almost every time. And even those rare mornings when I didn’t wake up for them? I knew he still visited me briefly.
Maybe it should feel awkward, my stepfather watching me when he assumes I can’t notice…
When I’m at my most exposed.
But those brief moments every morning? Well… Every time I’d feel his eyes linger in the places that spoke most directly to what he wanted? It felt like my skin was on fire. Like I was desperate for his touch to ease the heat he awakened as his eyes lingered on my body.
Most nights I would sleep in something casual and comfortable: an old, over-washed t-shirt & a pair of comfy-yet-cute cheeky panties.
But I wanted his morning view today to be something that would leave him with enough surprise and yearning that I could tempt him into finally yielding to his secret desires.
What his eyes dreamt of each night, and sought out each morning? I wanted his body to demand of me, instead.
And if my body was already leading him to gaze secretly and play the voyeur in hiding…
Well, the clothes don’t make the woman – but what self-respecting princess lacks some particular lingerie & panties meant to flawlessly flatter her body?
I’d gone to sleep early the night before, but only after taking my time in preparing before bed.
I’d opted for little other than lace adorning my curves – in this case? I’d favored a sheer, flyaway babydoll in black paired with a matching, tantalizingly-tiny thong. The kind of slinky attire that invariably left you feeling sensuous, sultry, & seductive – ready for whatever the night (or morning!) might hold.
I’m not sure if the black came off as especially coquettish or not, but I like to think it played well with my dark auburn hair when I wanted to appear suggestive.
I’m more tall & lithe than busty, having been blessed with B-cups… But I knew that my sinuous form could be just as strikingly sexy as a more curvaceous belle. And certainly, he kept seeing something he wanted each morning.
When I heard his footsteps approaching? I immediately felt my heartbeat begin to race, finally understanding the meaning of having my heart in my throat.
I was laying on my side – faced buried in my pillow. I quickly kicked my blankets back, hoping it would look as though they’d been abandoned at some point in my sleep.
The door was barely open, as it was most mornings – but hearing the sharp intake of breath as he saw my body so salaciously exposed?
I nearly moaned with want myself.
But…no.
I wanted him to erupt with need, and given the slight squeak of the door’s hinges as he swung it open? He seemed to be quickly on the way to giving in to those instincts.
Still… He paused – hanging near the door.
I could hear his breathing: rhythmic & quick (mirroring my heart as it fluttered in tandem). I could feel his eyes on my body – leaving me almost shaking with want. But I didn’t feel his touch.
Not yet, at least.
Was he afraid of touching me? Did he not realize how much I wanted him to be my firm, guiding hand?
I barely let my hand move, but didn’t dare change position – trying as best I could to feign a half-slumber instead of appearing to awaken. As I did…I let that hand find its way along my thigh, fingertips trailing their way to the growing heat that awaited him.
I didn’t want to touch myself, not directly – not yet. But a single fingertip carefully traced my lips along the lace. And I took deliberate care in increasing the pressure at my clit, briefly shuddering involuntarily in response to that pressure.
I heard him step forward again. I could almost feel his touch.
Just one last push to make him know it was him that I wanted… Was that what it would take to have him ravish & enrapture me?
My finger lovingly continued encircling my clit over my undies, and I whispered the word I most wanted him to hear me utter (as sinfully-seductively as I could):
“Daddy…“
I’m not quite sure how I expected him to respond, though I had a handful of hopes in mind – all variants of how he’d demonstrate his desire, want, & yearning for me in action.
Hopefully for him to step forward and finally touch me, as I’d long wanted. For him to claim my body, as I was so intently setting the stage for him to do.
In any case: it worked.
My calling to him in a husky, whispered voice clearly conveyed how ready I was to sate & satisfy his needs. To reciprocate the fawning & appreciation his silent watching had still spoke to me – affirming the wants his voyeuristic indulgence had kindled in me.
But instead of a tender caress, his first truly intimate touch was the brief brushing of his fingers as they entered the waistband of my thong – moments before pulling it down my thighs, legs, and off with far more force than was necessary. I didn’t know if it was intended as a show of his desire or a game of control, but as he continued to roughly rip off my babydoll? I yielded, knowing I wanted nothing but to be used as he saw fit.
To be his.
He held my face into my own pillow, while guiding my hips upwards – my legs only barely separated. Even though my breasts were beyond his view, my most intimate parts were on display: just for him.
And…I relished the exposure.
While a part of me was terrified by that, a greater part was internally pleading for him to push me further still.
I expected to feel his cock enter me, wondering hopefully at its size – but it was his tongue that began exploring my exposed slit first.
Whatever strength I had to withhold my moans before was now gone, lost & surrendered to the sensations & stimulus of his oral attentions. I understood immediately why my face was being held so forcefully into my pillow: I wouldn’t have to be quiet or restrained. And while my first moans of eager desperation at being his plaything were mostly suppressed by the pillow – he continued on, teasing my clit with a more responsive caress than I was used to from another.
Soon after I turned my head to the side to barely whisper my gratitude in pleasure:
“Thank you, Daddy… This is so much better than you watching me.”
My mind was slipping into something of a pleasurable haze, but my body was responding on instinct – and he was capitalizing on that. But as my breathing quickened and my needed release approached? His tongue left my wetness.
Before I could beg for more, though, it was replaced with the slow, firm thrust I had been yearning for from the onset. His hands were gentle as they finally caressed & fondled my tits, but he soon evolved into groping them roughly – only briefly pausing to adjust my position slightly with each fresh thrust into me.
This was what I had wanted. The feeling of fullness, and of being sated in the most carnal and pure way possible. To be his. My own hand sought my clit, teasing it and working to time my attentions to match his thrusting into me – like I was his natural sheath.
My moans faded as I felt a blissful climax approaching.
And…by then? I couldn’t help it: I wanted validation that he would cum with me. For me.
“Fill me. I need to feel it. Please, Daddy.”
The pressure of him pushing my face back into my pillow?
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe.
But the expansive warmth & pleasures his efforts had provided? I had no energy left in me to resist. Nor, in truth, any desire to.
His final thrust into me was paired with the spasms of orgasmic gravity yielding to release. The feeling of his spurting heat filling my pussy as he came – followed scant moments after by his cock, unwillingly, leaving my exposed cunt?
I savored it as I lay quivering on my bed, spent & silently triumphant.
He collapsed into the bed with me, his arms encircling me – pulling me down in an unexpected-yet-welcome embrace.
Him holding me, snuggling against me… I felt like his arms belonged around me.
The afterglow of this encounter was marked by the knowledge that I’d become his in eager submission, and yet… I desired nothing else but to walk this path at his instruction.