Sleeping With My Stepmom Novels & Stories

Ava's POV "Still sleeping like an asshole?" My eyes snapped open as I jumped out of bed when I heard her voice. No matter how deeply I slept, I could never mistake Clara Wilson's voice. My stepmom. I wondered if I would ever be able to be at peace, as I was years back before she came in. It had barely been 4 hours of sleep and yet she was already screaming my name. I had been called all manner of names as I was old enough to understand the meaning of those names.

he said. “Okay fine, get me a gig alright?” “Sure, but you need to be careful Z, she’s your stepmother,” “Don’t ever say that to me,” I growled and hung up the phone. That sounded so weird. My step-mom who I fucked and I still wanna continuously have sex with. I was never going to see her as my stepmom.

Chapter 2: Poison in a Mother’s Mouth The text from Mom had been burning a hole in my phone all weekend, but Monday morning hit like a freight train. I stared at my reflection in the office bathroom mirror, trying to smooth out the dark circles under my eyes. My ass still ached faintly from Marcus's spanks, a secret reminder that made my thighs clench even as guilt twisted in my gut. What the hell was I doing? Sleeping with my stepbrother—my boss—in his locked office, then risking it all with that unlocked door thrill on Sunday. It had felt electric, addictive, like finally scratching an itch I'd ignored for years. But Mom's words—Be careful—old family tensions—echoed, turning the afterglow

"You must've snuck on upstairs once you got home from hanging out with your sister." "St- umm... yes, yeah. I was just tired and..." Matt caught himself before he corrected stepmom number two that Stephanie was his stepsister. A certain detail that had become more important to him in the last twenty-four hours. "H-how's things going here? Must be nice having my dad home for a weekend for a change?"

he murmured, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself. I had just slept with my hot stepbrother… and my mom was never going to find out about my secret. That’s what you call a win.

She squats, and pulls at her neatly styled hair, crying and smudging mascara around her eyes. She freezes. Mom's about to have a breakdown; she's crying in our presence, yet that didn't prepare me for the next thing she said. "Desmond is her husband, and if living with him is bad, at least it's much better than sleeping with her own step-uncle." Dad freezes. My heart stops. My life is officially over. So Mom knew, and Granny knew; they sent that spy in the mall after me. How far will they go in controlling my life?

As my stepbrother's dick started sliding in and out of me I sensed he wanted me asleep, and I played along. I'm not sure, but I think I must have been half asleep because I woke up having an orgasm again and feeling Robert throb inside me. He had his elbows under my knees, pushing them into the mattress either side of my face. My thighs were touching my cheeks. He wasn't making a sound. I think we just fell asleep in my bed after. I don't remember it clearly. My mum and stepdad were due back the next day.

“What?!” “Derek? He’s Derek now? Not Asshole or even stepdaddy dearest? Not only are you referring to him by his real name, but you seem to be worried about him. Anything you want to tell me?” She’s my best friend, of course I want to tell her. I don’t know why I haven’t. I guess I just liked having it be our little secret. I take a deep breath, before blurting out, “I’m sleeping with my step-dad.”

It's been three days since I've been avoiding her. She doesn't know what she's getting into. And the problem is that I don't want to know either. But one of us has to put a stop to it before it escalates into a bigger mess. I can't be sleeping with my step-sister for God's sake! A frustrated sigh escapes my lips as I park my car in the garage. It's already past midnight, and Mom and Michael have gone to bed.

Bad. Tonight we were all sleeping in the same bed. Mom insisted some family bonding bullshit after a long week. I showed up in my thin silk pajama shorts and tiny tank top, no bra, nipples already poking through from the AC. Mom was passed out on the far side, curled up facing the wall, dead to the world from her double shift. “Hey, petite,” my stepdad said when I walked in, that easy smile spreading across his face. His eyes all over me quick down my body, his eyes fixed on my legs before he looked away. But I caught it.