Anything for the Man of the House: Ten Brats who Learn how to Behave (13 page)

“Ah, baby, I’m coming, I’m
coming,” Randy rasp-whispered behind me.

“Hurry up, Randy,” I hissed
through my silent moans.

“I know, I know. I’m done.” He
pulled out and quickly zipped his fly. “All done now.”

I bent down and pulled up my
panties and my shorts, then turned the water on in the sink. Just
in time.

“I’m ho-ome,” my mother chimed.
“What are you two up to?”

“Just helping Amabelle with the
dishes,” Randy said, nonchalantly picking up a dirty plate and
covering it up with a towel.

“I’m so glad you guys are
getting along.”

If only she knew.

*****

When my mom decided to start
dating again, I was grossed out. She was beautiful and successful,
so I guess it was bound to happen at some point, but I just didn’t
want to think about it.

My dad left us for another
family when I was four years old, so I barely remembered him. Since
then, my mother has been pulling the load of a single parent
household, and she was doing it admirably, I must say. She worked
as an accountant at our local small town bank, and almost everyone
knew her. When she joined the online dating service, she had to
expand her “willing to travel” radius up to one hour, just so that
she could meet new men.

At first, she dated older guys;
I guess she wanted some stability. She was only thirty seven years
old, and still in a great shape. She barely even had any wrinkles.
The older guys were all creepy. I hated them. Then she decided to
open her mind to going on dates with slightly younger guys. That’s
when Randy came into the picture.

He was thirty two, muscular, and
oh-so good looking, my knees almost buckled when I first met him.
He totally ignored me though, which kind of stung. As far as I
could tell, his only shortcoming was that he was the same height as
my mother, five-foot-eight. It didn’t seem to bother her, and they
were soon getting serious. A few months later, they announced that
they were getting married, and he was moving in with us.

I didn’t know how to react. On
one hand, I was happy for my mom — she seemed smitten, and it
appeared that Randy was completely in love with her too. On the
other hand, every time I saw him, I could feel butterflies in my
stomach. And not just butterflies either. Lower down, between my
legs, I felt this unexplained tingling and warmth every time he
smiled at me. And lately, I’ve even noticed that my panties were
totally soaked every time he came to visit us. He was just so
handsome and manly, so much more attractive than all those stupid
boys at my high school who were asking me to go out with them.

I guess it didn’t matter,
though. I had promised to my mother that I would stay a virgin
until I got married, so it’s not like I would have sex with anyone
any time soon.

They got married at our local
church. My mom has always been very religious, so she insisted on a
traditional ceremony, even though Randy wanted to elope to Vegas.
The celebrations lasted the entire weekend, after which the
newlyweds left for an almost week-long getaway to Florida.

Their wedding took place two
days after my eighteenth birthday.

*****

While they were gone, I partied
all week, since there was no one at home to hold me to my curfew.
My cheerleading crew was at my place almost every day, and they all
brought their boyfriends, who brought their friends. On Friday, the
night before my mom and Randy were supposed to come back, we were
all drinking from a keg that someone was able to procure, and
pretty much everyone was wasted. My friend Abby suggested we play
“Spin the bottle,” and soon enough there were couples hooking up
all over the place. Someone was even ballsy enough to use my
mother’s bed — when I walked by the door, there were heavy
breathing noises that could only mean one thing.

I was a little jealous of all
the action. I had kissed two boys so far, and one of them felt me
up through the shirt, but that was as far as I was willing to go.
My promise to my mother held me back, and sometimes I wondered what
had possessed me to agree to her request. She grew up an a strict
religious household — my grandpa was still a pastor at a
neighboring town’s church. I was pretty sure she was a virgin when
she got married, and I could bet that up until Randy, my father was
the only man my mother had ever slept with. And even Randy probably
got his wish only after the wedding.

When she sat down with me to
talk about “s-e-x,” back when I was in sixth grade, she explained
everything pretty well, but she made the actual act sound like it
was a horror movie. The whole thing, in her eyes, was shrouded in
shame and filth, and since I was only twelve, it did sound
disgusting. Plus, there was always this huge shameful risk of
getting pregnant. Making that promise to my mom was a piece of
cake.

I was seriously wishing I could
take it back now, looking at all these horny couples in my
house.

“What’ya thinking about,
Amabelle?”

Justin’s voice startled me. He
was my sort-of-boyfriend. We’ve been going out for about two months
now, and he clearly wanted to do more than just kissing.

“Oh, nothing. Just dreading all
the cleaning up I’ll have to do after this party is over. My mom
would kill me if she found out.”

His hand wrapped around my
waist, and he stumbled closer to me, leaning his forehead against
mine. He was drunker than I was.

“Wanna go to your bedroom and
play around until everyone leaves? I’ll help you clean up, I
promise.”

“Oh, yeah? And what do I have to
do to earn that kind of free help?”

“Let’s just play and see what
happens?”

My head swam a little, and I
decided to throw all caution to the wind. After all, Justin knew
that I wanted to stay a virgin, so he wouldn’t force me into
anything I didn’t want to do.

We managed to make it to my
bedroom without falling, and once there, he locked the door and
fell into my bed.

“Come here, babe, let me snuggle
with you.”

I collapsed next to him, and we
clumsily made out for a few minutes. His movements were slow, and I
was hoping that he would fall asleep soon. I didn’t want to deal
with a drunk boyfriend.

His hand rummaged under my tank
top, stopping at my bra clasp in the back. I didn’t think he would
be able to unfasten it, since he was so wasted, but a few seconds
later he managed, and he was now pawing my perky breasts. I
couldn’t deny it, whatever he was doing felt great. My nipples
hardened, and I put my hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze my
firm round mounds even harder.

“Your tits are so perfect, do
you know that?” he whispered in my ear.

“Ew, don’t call them “tits”!
That’s disgusting.”

“Okay, okay, how about
“breasts”? Your breasts are perfect.”

“Much better,” I managed between
my gasps. He was making me all wet between my legs.

I knew my breasts were ideal — I
stared at them in the mirror countless times since they had fully
developed. They were a full round B-cup, perky and bouncy, with
puffy dark areola, and super sensitive nipples. I played with them
often, so I knew just how perfect and responsive they were.

One of his hands slid down my
belly and under the loose waistband of my shorts. He was inching
closer and closer to my sex, and I held my breath, not wanting to
stop him.

“What are you doing, Justin?” I
forced myself to say.

“Just touching, babe. I won’t
put anything inside.”

I was finding it hard to
breathe. My pussy soaked with sticky juices, and I wanted him to
put something inside
more than anything. His finger glided
over my clit, and I almost jumped.

“Ah, ah … please, be
careful.”

“You like that? You like my
finger down there?” He kept rubbing my sensitive nub, making me
arch my back and roll my hips towards his hand.

“Yeah, babe, right there, just
like that. Rub it a little harder, right there.” I was trying to
get him to stop moving his finger around so much, but it seemed he
was unable to concentrate on what was giving me the most pleasure.
He was too inexperienced.

Finally, I stuck my hand into my
shorts, placing it over his fingers, and guided him to where it
mattered most. Pressing on top of his finger and regulating the
pressure, I was able to control the stimulation just right. I
didn’t even know exactly what I was doing, but I could tell what
made me squirm the most, and I didn’t want it to end. After a few
seconds of aggressive kneading, my clit swelled up and almost
exploded, making me cry out and shudder in some kind of a
release.

Whoa! What just happened? I was
shaking.

“Babe, did you just come?”
Justin was dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I think I did,” I
breathed out. I still wasn’t sure. Nothing like that has ever
happened to me.

He pulled his hand out of my
shorts and brought his finger to his mouth.

“It’s almost like I went down on
you,” he grinned, licking his sticky digit.

“Almost.” My orgasm was quieting
down, and I wanted to be by myself. I was confused about what had
just happened, not knowing if I had crossed the line. Was I still a
virgin? Did his finger somehow penetrate me? I realized I knew
nothing about the art of a female climax, and I didn’t know if I
could ask anyone about it. Maybe I could somehow look it up online,
after everyone left.

“Babe, can you get everyone out?
It’s kind of late, and my parents are coming home early tomorrow. I
have to clean up.”

“You’re calling them your
parents? That guy is not your dad. He’s way younger than your mom,
isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. It’s just easier
to refer to them as parents, now that they are married. I haven’t
discussed it with him if he wants me to call him “daddy.” I don’t
have a problem with that if he does. Never really had a father
anyway.”

“Alright, princess, you just
relax here, and I’ll get everyone to go home. I’ll be back soon.”
He stumbled out, barely able to walk straight, and I was sure that
he would pass out before he completed the task.

My orgasm had somehow made me
more tired than I was before. I was struggling to stay awake now,
trying to figure out what to do next. I definitely had to clean up
the house, or I would never hear the end of it from my mom. After
that I was going to look things up online, although I would have to
do it quickly and then erase my search history. Randy was some kind
of a computer engineer, so I was sure he could catch me. Right now
though, I’m just gong to close my eyes for a second.
Just for a
second.

Next thing I knew, someone was
shaking me awake.

*****

“Amabelle, wake up,” it was
Randy’s voice.

I tried to open my eyes, but the
bright light from the window gave me an instant searing headache,
and I moaned.

“Wake up, party girl.”

That’s when I jumped, hitting my
forehead against Randy’s. Oh, shit. What happened? I must’ve fallen
asleep last night, before I could clean up.

“I’m so sorry, it’ll never
happen again. It was just a one-time thing.” I tried to get up, but
my head was still in a fog.

“Are you talking about the mess
all over the house? Including our master bedroom?” Randy was
smiling. Maybe he wasn’t too mad. But where was mom? I was so
confused.

He must’ve read my question.
“You’re in luck, I came home by myself. Your mom was called in to
work, some kind of a crisis at the bank, so they needed her.” He
helped me get up and pushed me into the bathroom. As I tried to
brush my teeth, I saw him pick up empty glasses and plates from the
floor.

“I’m so sorry, Randy,” I tried
to mumble through my toothbrush.

“Just get cleaned up, and we’ll
figure out what to do here. Take a shower, I’ll be in he living
room.”

I quickly showered and changed
into a clean tank top and a pair of shorts. I didn’t even bother
with my bra or underwear, since I didn’t know when my mom would be
coming home. I had to hurry and get the place spotless before she
returned.

When I came out to the living
room, it didn’t look as bad as I thought it would. Randy had picked
up all the garbage and was now vacuuming the floor. The kitchen
sink was full of dishes, so I ran over and started washing them —
we didn’t have a dishwasher.

For the next hour, we didn’t say
a word to each other. Randy vacuumed all the rooms where the guests
had visited, changed the sheets in the master bedroom, and took out
the garbage. I got everything else straightened out and in order.
The house looked pristine.

I found him slumped on the
living room sofa; his eyes were closed, as if he were taking a nap.
I walked over and sat on the floor next to him. I had to thank him
somehow. What we did in less than an hour was incredible. I
could’ve never done it without his help.

“Randy?” I touched his forearm
lightly.

“Yes, Amabelle?”

“Thank you for helping me clean
up,” I paused, contemplating if I should say the next thing that
was at the tip of my tongue. Somehow, I thought, it would please
him. “You’re the best step daddy a girl could wish for.” I held my
breath, waiting for his reaction.

“Just call me
daddy
,
Amabelle. I hate the term
step daddy
.” His eyes were still
shut, but he put his hand over mine, stroking it lightly.

“Okay, daddy. Thank you.” My
heart fluttered when he touched my hand, and I didn’t want to move.
“Will you tell mom about what happened?”

“Well, that depends. How naughty
were you last night? Our bed was all crumpled. Did you have sex in
it?”

“No, daddy! I’m still a virgin!”
Or at least I hoped I was.

He was suddenly curious.
Propping himself up on his elbow, he turned to me, completely
awake.