Part 1
I had been watching my stepdaughter and her new boyfriend with amusement for some time.
They had come to stay with me to celebrate the end of their final exams and had lingered throughout July and August, lounging by the pool and severely curtailing my usual activities. Fond as I was of my stepdaughter, the only real reason I tolerated their continued presence was due to her boyfriend’s immense charm. I saw potential in him. A specific kind of aptitude which I did not believe my stepdaughter was able to see.
Tension had been simmering between them for weeks. I observed furiously whispered conversations and many little spats and this finally erupted into a full-blown row by the pool one day when Alexander appeared in tiny swimshorts with absolutely no body hair. His long, finely-muscled limbs were hairless and his slender torso gleamed with oil. His skimpy turquoise swim shorts clung to that enticing bulge and disappeared into the crack of his pert, firm ass in a way which made it absolutely apparent that any hair beneath the fabric had been removed also.
Then I realised that his cock and balls were held perfectly by the silky fabric without compression or strain. This changed a little as he caught my eye and, as I dropped my gaze and glanced at it, that beautiful bulge began to grow. I smiled at him, then observing the scarlet-faced furious dismay on my stepdaughter’s face, and sensing the row which was about to detonate, I wrapped my red sarong around my breasts and said,
“Lunch will be served in an hour. Darling, don’t be angry with him . . . I think he looks wonderful.”
Winking at Alexander, I drifted away as the air turned blue with faux-innocent protest and tearful fury.
“No, I don’t!! Of course I’m not . . . how could you say that?!”
“You do! You know what you’re doing - you’re just trying to humiliate me. And what the hell happened to my lipstick, while we’re on the subject?! Yes, the red one, and my pink one is worn down to a stub . . . you must have been drunk.”
Things like that.
I heard a door slam in the distance as I reached the kitchen, followed by the screech of tyres on the driveway as a car left rapidly at full speed. I wondered which one of them I’d be entertaining for lunch.
I had a strong preference for Alexander.
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Looking rather subdued and a little more fully clothed in a pair of tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt which clung beautifully around his strong shoulders, Alexander sat down to lunch.
Complimenting me on the food, he toyed elegantly with his linguine; eating only a few mouthfuls before putting down his fork and clutching his glass instead.
“So what happened, my darling - where is Stephanie?”
“She’s gone to the airport.”
“The airport?! Dear God . . . that’s a bit extreme. Couldn’t you stop her . . . where has she gone?”
“To her father, she says.”
“Hmmmm . . .”
That made sense to me.
She had a very close bond with her father - he was a lovely man. I didn’t need to spend much time with him to ascertain that for myself, however.
“Well, you’re welcome to stay. In fact, I would love you to.”
I imagined that luscious cock hardening painfully in those tight blue jeans as he gazed back at me. I hadn’t seen it - yet - but I had enjoyed glimpsing it pushing against inadequate fabric all Summer. Biding my time, I found the anticipation delicious.
“I am aware of the . . . issue between you and my stepdaughter. Please understand that you will not have that concern with me. I want you to feel free to express yourself. In all your femininity. In fact, I will encourage it. Guide it, nurture it, control it. The only rule is that you will do exactly as I say. Questions?”
Alexander had baulked at the word “femininity”, backing up in his chair, even as his eyes gave the lie to his attempt at manly protest.
As I stared into his eyes, the fight went out of him and the submissive fire I knew was there took its place.
“Just one, Mrs. Hamilton . . . when do we begin?”
“Excellent. We begin now.”
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