Backseat Trip With My Stepmother

Maija's mother has married the perfect man, now she has the family she has always wanted, except for one problem. She has the hots for her new stepbrother.

"Hank, there's something hard down there pushing into me." On the driving school car, I was teaching my goddaughter how to drive by letting her sit on my lap, my hands over hers on the wheel. But right after we started, the engine stalled, and the whole car jerked hard. Her round hips settled deep into my thighs. To make things even more intense, she was wearing nothing but a skirt that barely covered her.

Note: This story contains elicit contents and it's rated 18+ "Fuck!!!" Nora moaned, sweats coating her naked body as she felt herself approaching climax, her eyes drowsy, her mouth wide open, the naked hunk of a man fucking her brains out, "Fuck!! Tyler!! I'm about to... fuccckkk!!!" She felt her hips bulking up and down jolting her awake from her wet dream, realizing that she just came from dreaming about her irresistible stepson Tyler again, she sighed. Ever since she saw him for the first time she couldn't bring herself to forget about the hot man, and as time went on, it became more and more impossible for her to move on from her fantasies and it has turned out to become her every night sweet-nightmare... Will she ever forget about him and focus on her husband or will something happen along the way?

My stepmother, Mary, hated me to the bone. All because when I was little, I went to a classmate’s house to play and forgot to close the courtyard gate. Her son ran onto the road and was hit to death by a car. My father loved my younger brother the most. After learning what happened, he was heartbroken. “Were you jealous of your brother? That’s why you deliberately left the gate open?” I desperately explained that I had closed the gate, but Dad didn’t believe me. He locked me in the basement and raised me like a dog for the rest of my life. Until one day, when Dad went on a business trip, Mary didn’t give me any food for three days. Starving, I crawled upstairs to the kitchen to look for something to eat. That was when I saw Mary sitting on a man’s lap, saying softly, “If you hadn’t forgotten to close the gate back then, I wouldn’t be living in fear every day of my husband finding out… We’re the ones who killed Ethan.” Only then did I understand that I wasn’t the one who had forgotten to close the gate and caused my brother to run outside, but my stepmother’s lover. Just as I was about to sneak back to the basement, my stepmother noticed me. “What did you hear? No! I can’t let your father find out that I killed our own son!” In a panic, she grabbed me and threw me down the stairs, killing me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the car hit my brother. I blinked my innocent, childlike eyes and pointed upstairs, speaking in a soft, baby voice, “Dad, I closed the gate. It was the man in Mom’s bedroom who didn’t!”

Extremely crazy and confusing night, she was slept by her stepfather's son. Her young and tender daughter's body blossomed underneath him, being watched carefully and desecrated with abandon, so shy that she couldn't help herself. He is a powerful and domineering CEO, arrogant and unrivaled in authority. With his cold and aloof demeanor, he impulsively confines the daughter of his stepmother, gradually developing the habit of protecting her and nurturing an obsession to dote on her. The deep-seated infatuation leaves her with no escape. He says, "I allow you to be willful, but you must be willful within the limits I set. When you gave yourself to me as a birthday gift, you became mine for life! From head to toe, you are all mine!"

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.