Hairy Stepmom Novels & Stories

Nobody needs a period during a busy week. My family, especially my niece and nephew, steer clear of my way once they see me stomping down the stairs with my hair resembling a nest. Atleast, they are clever. “Mom,I need sweets” I grumbled glaring at the counter. Strangely, my step-mom aka my mom was cooking something with her hair tied into a bun and the brown apron makes her look like a real housewife. Only She could never be one. “Oh,Honey, What's wrong with your hair? My My! You look horrible”

But none of them—none—compare to the walking wet dream I call stepmom. Reagan Hart, thirty-eight, blonde, built like a fertility goddess on steroids: H-cup tits that defy gravity even when they’re leaking, waist nipped in like an hourglass, hips wide enough to birth a linebacker, and an ass so fat and juicy I’ve jerked off to the thought of clapping those cheeks until they’re bruised purple. Dad’s been “on business” in Singapore for three weeks, and every night I hear the squelch-squelch-squelch from the basement.

"Why should my wife have to show up for you?" His mom stared at his dad and said icily, "She's a lawyer from a family of scholars. Our little problems are just embarrassing in front of her." "So, you think you're too good for us," Harper's stepmom said, leaning on his dad's arm. "But now that she's pregnant, we're family whether you like it or not. It's really rude that she hasn't visited even once..." "Who are you calling rude?" Harper's frown deepened. "You have no right to talk about my wife like that."

My step mom asked me with hands akimbo. "No one other that Raven." I retorted. "You've ready grown to the extent of replying me rudely right?" She questioned. Earth knows I would soon punch her right on her face... But yeah I can't do that. My step mom is a very strong werewolf, her skills at martial arts are superb I must say. To sum it up, she's a very strong wolf in our pack, so me punching her was nearly impossible. I didn't respond to her question, I just stared at her.

"Mom... I mean, stepmother... you... you want me to do the dishes? Clean the house?" My stepmother's eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through her facade. "Yes, Bethany. I think it's time for a change. We all need to do our part to keep our home running smoothly. You can start by helping out with the chores." Bethany's disbelief was mirrored in my own expression. Our stepmother had never shown an ounce of interest in household responsibilities, leaving the burden on our shoulders. It felt like an alternate reality, a dream that bordered on surreal.

Her long dark hair cascaded down her back, and her blue eyes always held this soft, commanding spark, like she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. I was 19, home from college for the summer, and yeah, I was obsessed. Jerked off to her more times than I could count, picturing those full lips wrapped around my cock, her tits bouncing as I pounded her from behind. She was my stepmom, but Dad was gone, and the guilt mixed with the lust in a way that only made it hotter. I pulled on shorts and a tee, my morning wood still half-hard from a dream about her bent over the counter, begging for it.

He yanked my hair back hard. “You and your mom are pathetic family fuckpigs,” he snarled, his hot breath on my ear. “Beg me to breed you while your stepdad watches.” “Please, sir! Breed me! Knock up your whore’s womb! Fill Daddy’s stepdaughter while Mommy gets fucked next door!” I screamed, voice breaking.

The handwriting aggressive and harsh like whoever wrote it pressed hard enough to tear through. "YOUR MOTHER OWES A DEBT AND YOU'LL PAY IT. WE'RE COMING." I read it three times. Then I sink to the floor and wonder what fresh hell my mother has dragged me into this time.

Which meant he was my new step-brother. I spent the next hour trying to scrub the memory of his hands off my skin, but it was pointless. By the time my mom knocked on my door to remind me about the trust fund signing, I felt like I was walking through a nightmare. "You look pale, honey," my mom said as we walked into the massive, glass-fronted lobby of Sterling Corp. She reached out to adjust the collar of my blouse. "Are you sure you're not coming down with something? And why are you dressed like a librarian?"

My mother was the exact copy of Charlotte Richards from the Lucifer series, in short, she was a hot mess with a perfect body and a perfect height of 5’9. I, on the other hand, was her opposite. Her hair was smooth blonde and I was gifted with Raven Black hair, However, our height was equal. “Let me answer that.” My mate interrupted and stepped forward, folding the sleeves of his bathrobe, showing off his muscled forearms, and making me wonder what he would tell my mother. That I tried to kill him or that we fucked and both. “So, this, your daughter, whom you never told me about, barged into this chamber, let alone she had put a silver dagger on my throat and was about to kill me but then…”My