Stepmom In My Bed Novels & Stories

My step-dad was bent over the edge of the bed, face in the sheets, ass up, thighs shaking. His cold-eyed best friend was buried to the hilt inside him, hips snapping hard, one hand fisted in my step-dad’s hair. Both of them completely naked. Sweat shining on their backs. The sharp, heavy smell of sex filled the room. Precum and lube and pure animal heat. They didn’t notice me at first. I stepped inside and let the door shut behind me with a soft click. I locked it. The best friend looked up first. His eyes went wide. My step-dad tried to push up and froze when he saw me standing there in my travel clothes, suitcase still in my hand, phone already in the other.

And I gasped awoke when someone shook my body abruptly. I looked around and I found myself in the bed that I stayed in last night. The beautiful luxury room belongs to My Stepdad. However, I realized the outside is still dark and I am being called by no one but my Mom herself. The hell! What is she doing here? I wondered as I wiped my saliva on the corner of my lips. Gross. " Why are you here?" I asked stupidly although I knew this is her husband's house and she has every right to come here. But I didn't expect her to be here.

“Damien wouldn’t do that!” “You call your stepfather by his name. Interesting.” He was doing it again, giving her those looks that suggested he knew far more than she did. She felt as if she were stark naked in front of him, to be observed and studied. “Now that I think about it, your relationship seems a whole lot better than I was made to believe. Aaron wouldn’t shut up about how shitty your relationship with the bloodsucker is—a pity story, if you ask me.”

Her eyes flick to Daniel and it’s like they’re communicating telepathically. “My idea,” Mom confesses, looking down at her hands. “I knew he wanted you,” she says quietly, still not meeting my eyes. “And I knew that if you’d known everything from the start, you would’ve panicked.” She swallows. “So we needed a way… a way for you not to be yourself for a while.” Her eyes finally lift to mine. “Seeing you on that table just now…” I stare at her, my head spinning. My mother. My own mother has been sleeping with her stepson just to "manage" him. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The room feels smaller, like the walls leaned in while she was talking.

Every single morning, I demanded written reports on what time she woke up, which hallways of the estate she walked through, and exactly how many minutes she spent talking to my stepfather. I spent hours standing by the windows of my own study, gripping the stone sill so hard my fingers turned completely numb and white. From there, I would watch the two of them walk through the private gardens. They weren't even touching, but the way they spoke, the way she listened to him with her head tilted, made my blood boil with a hot, furious jealousy. "You're doing it again," a sharp, angry voice cut through the quiet room. I didn't turn around from the window. I kept my eyes locked on the garden belo

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.

About my stepson technically even though the word made me want to vomit. Briston carried me up the stairs and down the hallway toward my chamber while guards stepped aside to let us pass. None of them said anything but I could see the questions in their eyes. I closed my own eyes and tried to ignore the warmth radiating from his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear. When we reached my room, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently and pulled the blanket over me with careful movements.

“Don’t stop. Eat your cum out of me. Then fuck me again.” He devoured me hungrily, licking and fingering me until I came again on his tongue. Then he stood up, lifted me, and carried me upstairs to our parents’ bedroom. He laid me on their big bed and climbed on top of me. This time he fucked me slow and deep, eyes locked on mine. “This is so wrong,” he whispered, thrusting deep. “Fucking my stepsister on our parents’ bed.” “I love it,” I moaned. “Fuck me here. Claim me here.”

As I lay in bed that night, full of his cum, wearing nothing but my pants, I smiled. He was officially my stepdaddy now and I had never been more addicted. At breakfast, Mom looks at both of us strangely and asks why we both look so tired while sitting right between us.

Ready. She walked to the bed with slow, predatory grace. Her eyes never left mine. She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. Her soaked pussy pressed directly against my hard cock through the thin fabric of my briefs. “Your father is sleeping,” she whispered, leaning down so her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was low and dripping with sin. “He took two sleeping pills tonight. He will not wake up for hours.” The danger of her words sent a dark thrill racing through my blood. My own stepmother. Sneaking into my room in the middle of the night while her husband slept just down the hall.