Book8-4
“So this lasagna was excellent, Daddy, but I need to go get ready for my date with Jet. Mind if I’m excused?”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
Usually, I don’t ask to be excused from the table, but tonight, it seems like the right thing to do. My father’s blue eyes flicker before growing bright. They become so hot, in fact, that they resemble azure laser beams.
“Actually, just a moment, Christy. Do you mind if we talk a little before you leave?”
I pause in the middle of getting up, and sit back down slowly. This is strange, but I decide to go with it.
“Of course not, Daddy. Why, what’s up?”
Bart takes a deep breath before his blue gaze meets mine.
“Well, I thought we’d have ‘the Talk.'”
I stare at him.
“Is this about the birds and the bees, Bart? If so, I already know all about it,” I giggle. “I’ve known since middle school because you know they have that “Changes” course that teaches kids all about sex and love and relationships.”
Bart pins me with a look.
“Really? Sex and love and relationships? All three?”
I nod.
“I mean, we watched a lot of videos but the guidance counselor, Mrs. Loyola, was really nice. She said there were no stupid questions, so I definitely learned a lot.”
I can tell the man of the house is interested in finding out exactly what I learned, but he shakes his head and changes course.
“Well, I wanted to have this chat with you about more than sex and love and relationships. I wanted to talk to you about a promise that I made your mother.”
That makes me sit up straight.
“This is about Sharon?”
The handsome man nods his head, his big body tense. The air around us is quivering with energy, and I wait with bated breath.
“It’s about something I promised her on her deathbed. You know your mother was a strict Catholic, and she hoped that you would follow in her footsteps.”
I nod.
“Yes. I haven’t been going to services regularly, but I read the Bible every night and occasionally go to confession.”
Bart nods, his expression smooth.
“Good, good,” he says. But then he straightens. “The fact is that Sharon wanted me to make sure her little girl was taken care of, and that meant adhering to certain values. She wanted you to be pure, innocent, and kind to others.”
I smile at Bart.
“But I am! Or at least, I do the best I can.”
My handsome stepfather nods again.
“Yes, and I know you’ve done well, Christy. But one of the things your mom was hoping … well, this is a bit awkward to say, but she was hoping that you’d save yourself for the man you marry. She believed in the sanctity of marriage, and that you’d arrive at your wedding bed a virgin.”
I stare at the man of the house and then begin to laugh.
“Yes, I know, Daddy. You don’t have to worry about that. In fact, I’m a virgin right now because I know that’s what Mom hoped for me. I’m not going to let any man touch me until I know that he’s the one.”
“Good,” Bart growls with satisfaction after taking a deep breath. It’s as if he’s run a marathon, and is grateful to finish. Except, the conversation isn’t done yet.
“Then you won’t mind if I check you before and after each date, baby?” he asks. “I want to make sure you keep your virginity as part of my vow to your mom. Inspecting you is the best way to do it.”
I stare at him, hardly believing my ears.
“What do you mean by ‘inspecting me’?” I ask in a breathless voice. “Do you mean …?”
Bart nods, his blue eyes so dark that they’re almost black now.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice. “I need to do an inspection of your pussy and ass before and after every date, just to make sure that you haven’t lost your innocence.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs as a hot flush stains my cheeks. Oh my God, is he serious? My stepdad wants me to take off my panties so that he can look up my pussy and asshole, inspecting them for another man’s … what? His fluids? His smell? His semen?
I take a deep, shuddering breath, unable to tear my eyes from Bart’s.
“Daddy, you know it’s unnecessary,” I begin in a small voice. “I’m still a virgin, and I would never betray you or Mom this way. I swear, I’m untouched.”
“I know, baby girl, and I trust you. But you know how the saying goes: trust, but verify. I think the inspection is well-warranted.”
I stare at him.
“But I’ve done nothing to arouse your suspicions!”
“You’ve been out with boys before,” my stepfather drawls with amusement. “How do I know that you haven’t been with a boy already? That you haven’t given your innocence away?”
I sputter.
“I dated Tommy Cahill once, and Brandon Doyle twice. Those boys were just boys! They were so weak and limp and ”
“Ah ha,” Bart interrupts, leaning forward suddenly as his blue eyes gleam. “See? You already tried sex with Tommy and Brandon, but it sounds like they couldn’t deliver.”
The words die on my lips because Bart’s right. I was being sexual with Tommy and Brandon, and what my dad doesn’t know is that there was even once when I was sexual with Tommy and Brandon simultaneously. It wasn’t a big deal. We were downstairs in the basement of Tommy’s house where his parents can’t hear. Then the three of us took off our clothes, and the two boys tried to get a threesome going, except that they were utter duds. Somehow, they weren’t able to get hard, and I think it’s because they’d had so much alcohol earlier in the evening. The two boys ending up falling asleep in a drunken stupor, and I left, disgusted.
But I know an inspection with my stepfather won’t be disappointing because Bart’s all man. He’s one of those guys who gets better with age, and so the silver at his temples makes him look mature and distinguished. Plus, ever since he was laid off, he’s been hitting the gym twice a day, and the results show. The man of the house has broad shoulders, a wide, sculpted chest, and powerful arms. His waist is lean and narrow, and his thighs resemble tree trunks. I’d love to get a taste of what’s hanging between them too.
So I swallow again, weighing my options. On the one hand, I could refuse and create a furor, likely making myself late to my date with Jet. On the other, I could do as Bart asks and let him touch my pussy and asshole a bit. At least let him look. A thrill runs down my spine as my nipples tingle, and I clench my thighs together. Oh yes, I know what I want, and with a coy smile, I turn to the man of the house.
“Okay, Daddy. You can inspect me if you think it’s necessary, but what will the inspection entail? I mean, are you looking for my hymen? You know that most girls don’t have a hymen anymore just from doing vigorous exercise, and I wouldn’t be surprised if mine is long gone.”
Bart’s shoulders tense, and the air between us is vibrating now. Somehow, the world’s shrunk so that there’s only the two of us, and I watch with bated breath as the huge man stands before striding to the trailer door to shut it. Then, he latches the door tight, and turns back to me, his massive form taking most of the space inside our small dining room.
“I’m not looking for your hymen,” he drawls in a smooth tone, even though those blue eyes are sharp. “But I want to test each of your sweet holes just to make sure that another man hasn’t touched them.”
I stare at him.
“But how will you tell?”
Bart merely smiles at me, his azure gaze hungry.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, sweetheart. Now, are you ready, Christy? Because I think it’s time for us to get this inspection under way.”
With that, my world tilts on his axis and everything changes forever. After all, I’ve been dreaming about the man of the house for a long time … and now, my fantasies are coming true.
Bart
What kind of asshole am I? The worst type, obviously, because every word out of my mouth for the past twenty minutes has been pure bullshit. A deathbed promise to Christy’s mother? False. A need to do a pussy and ass inspection? False. Acknowledging the raging attraction between me and this innocent, nubile teen girl? Well, that’s probably the only thing that’s truthful about the conversation we’re having.
After all, the sparks between me and the brat are more than sparks now. It’s a raging fire. I can see how Christy’s aroused, from the hard tips of her nipples pressing through her t-shirt, to the gentle pink flush coming down her chest. I see how her big breasts heave up and down as she breathes with excitement, and I can almost smell the scent of her aroused cunt. Yes, I know what her pussy smells like because a year ago, I stole a pair of her used panties and pressed my nose to the lacy fabric. It’s wrong, it’s depraved, and it’s fucking dirty, but it was one of the best masturbation sessions I’ve ever had.