Watched at Home
Authors: Jean-Luc Cheri
Watched at Home
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Note: This story contains sexually explicit
material, and is intended only for persons over the age of 18. By
downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are
of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. All of the
characters involved in the sexual situations in this story are
intended to be 18 years of age or older, whether they are
explicitly described as such or not.
Book description:
An erotic novella. Erica has desired Shane,
her mother’s boyfriend, for a while, and she hoped a year away at
college would cure her of the obsession. But during her first
weekend back home with him, her lust is rekindled when she
discovers a shocking secret he’s been keeping from her: hidden
video cameras in their house. Adults only due to graphic sexual
content.
Note: This story was formerly published as My
Spying Stepdad, and has been edited to remove the incestual
themes.
(28,000 words / 112 pages)
Table of Contents
“Erica, what are your plans for your first
weekend back home from college?”
I looked up from my cereal and the magazine I
was reading to see Shane at the refrigerator, wearing a dress shirt
and jeans – his usual work clothes.
“Relaxing around the house, why?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. Have you talked
to any of your friends since you got back?”
“No, and I feel a guilty about it.”
“Why?”
“Well, when we all left for college last
fall, we promised to stay in touch. And we did for a while, but I
guess we got involved in stuff, and we haven’t spoken in
months.”
“Are they all back home?”
“I think so,” I said, “I know Beth had to
leave school after the first semester, because her mom got
sick.”
“Yeah, I ran into her a few months ago at the
grocery store. She told me her mom’s getting better.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“You five used to be thick as thieves,” he
said. “Remember all those pool parties you used to have here at the
house? You girls spent every weekend together.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I miss that.”
“The pool’s still out there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re only a few phone calls away
from doing it again.”
“You mean have a pool party?”
“Why not? What would be a better way of
getting you all back together? You could catch up on what you’ve
been doing off at college.”
I was beginning to warm up to the idea.
“Tell you what,” he said, “it’s Friday, so
why not tonight? Give me a list of the food and drinks you’ll need,
and I’ll pick them up on the way home from work. You can call your
friends today and set it up.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I think I will. By the
way, you seem more enthusiastic about this than me.”
“Um,” he said, looking embarrassed, “it’s
just that those parties remind me of your high school days, and I’m
feeling kind of old now that you’re grown up and in college.”
My smile widened. “Shane, that’s silly.”
“Silly?”
“Yeah. You’re only twelve years older than
me. Thirty-one isn’t even close to being old.”
It was his turn to smile. “Thanks. I need
reminded of that once in a while.”
“Speaking of that,” I said, “did you meet
anyone special while I was gone?”
His blush returned. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Any new women in your
life?”
He shrugged. “No one serious.”
“Any unserious?”
He smiled. “There’s been a few.”
“Really?”
“Does that bother you?”
“No way. I’m happy for you. Mom’s been gone
for four years now. You’re still young and handsome. It’s about
time you got back on the horse.”
He chuckled and said, “Back in the
saddle,”
His words created an image in my mind, and I
tried to stop it but failed. When he said ‘saddle’, I thought of
him lying between some strange woman’s legs.
Damn, I thought I was over this. I had spent
my freshman year at college trying to get these images out of my
head. I started off dating random guys, trying to find ones that
looked as much unlike Shane as I could – thin nerdy looking guys
who were polar opposites of this ruggedly handsome man. I even
relieved a few of them of their virginity.
Then one day I met Steve in the library, and
I stared at him in shock. He looked almost exactly like a
twenty-one year old version of Shane, right down to the same shade
of dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscular build. He asked me out
on the spot, but I refused, committed to breaking free of this
perverse attraction I had for my dead mom’s boyfriend.
But Steve was persistent, and finally I gave
in, and I soon found myself lying in his bed with my legs spread
and my toes pointed towards the ceiling, crying out in pleasure as
he fucked me. Somewhere in the middle of it, the combination of his
looks and the dim light got to me, and suddenly my brain became
convinced that I was fucking Shane instead of Steve. Out of
nowhere, my orgasm blasted through me, and I had to bite my lip to
prevent myself from calling out the wrong name.
After that, I couldn’t get enough of Steve.
We screwed every free minute we had, and I didn’t even try to lie
to myself about what I was doing. Since I couldn’t fuck Shane, I
was fucking the next best thing, and imagining it was him. When I
took Steve’s cock into my mouth, I felt Shane’s hands gripping my
hair. When I laid on my stomach, and Steve laid over me with his
hard dick sliding into my pussy through my firm asscheeks, it was
my Shane’s lips I felt kissing my neck through my long blonde hair.
I reveled in it, and didn’t care how wrong it was. Steve was
oblivious to it all, thinking he had the good fortune of dating a
nymphomaniac.
One time, as Steve and I were removing each
other’s clothes as we lay on his bed, my cell phone went off. I
felt a small surge of excitement when I saw Shane’s name on the
display. I answered it, and it turned out he was only calling to
see how I was doing. He told me that if I was busy, he could call
back later, but I hurriedly told him no, now would be fine. So we
talked about mundane stuff, like my classes and his job.
Steve was lying next to me, propped up on his
elbow, staring down at my naked body and waiting for me to finish
the phone call. But I had other plans. My free hand slid around his
neck, and I pulled him down to my breast. When his lips closed
around my nipple, I almost gasped into the phone. The combination
of his touch and Shane’s voice sent my desire skyrocketing.
As Shane told me about taking the car in to
get it fixed, Steve’s mouth slid down over my stomach and found my
sopping wet cunt, burying his tongue in it as I distractedly
offered ‘uh huh’s into the phone. When Shane got to the part about
the tires needing rotated, my orgasm burst through me in a white
hot explosion, and I had to bite the pillow in order to keep myself
from screaming. After we hung up, I came three more times as I rode
Steve’s cock raw.
But as much as Steve was like Shane in bed,
he was unlike him out of it. Fascinated with video games and
Facebook, he was more like a boy than a man. Where Shane was calm
and level-headed, Steve was rash and impulsive. Where Shane’s
powerful body gave him quiet confidence, Steve allowed his
insecurity to get the best of him.
The end came one night when we were at a bar
together, playing pool. In the middle of a game, Steve walked over
to small group of guys watching us play, and grabbed one of them by
the throat.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he
said.
“Nothing,” the guy managed to choke out in
gasps.
“That’s my girl’s ass you’ve been staring at
all night, understand?”
I put my hand on Steve’s bicep and tried to
pull him away. “Steve, let him go.”
But he shrugged me off and leaned into the
kid. “I said, do you understand?”
The kid nodded and Steve shoved him backward,
releasing him. “Don’t forget it,” he said.
As I stared at him, I knew it was over. After
seeing this side of him, there was no way I would ever be able to
imagine he was Shane again. Shane would never do something like
this.
Steve grabbed my hand and we left. Looking
back, I should have broke it off right there, but I thought it
might be better if we spent the night together, and I would tell
him in the morning when he had calmed down.
We drove to his place in silence, and as we
got undressed for bed, he was still sullen.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I said gently.
When he didn’t answer, I sat beside him on
the bed and slipped my arm around his shoulder. “It’s ok. That guy
doesn’t matter.”
What happened next was stunning. He turned
quickly to me and his hand shot out to my throat, gripping it. His
strength drove me back onto the bed, and he was over me, pinning me
to the mattress.
His face was close to mine, his breath hot.
“I saw you looking at him.”
“What?” I managed to choke out.
“You were staring at him all night. Sticking
your ass in his face.”
His hand eased up so I could answer him. “No,
that’s not true. I didn’t even notice him until you grabbed
him.”
“It is true. I saw you. Do you want to fuck
him?”
“No Steve. I only want to fuck you.” Which
was usually the truth. Except for right now. Right now I wanted to
be as far from him as possible.
“Liar. I see how you are when we make
love.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s like you’re fucking me, but you’re with
someone else. Do you think of guys like that while we’re
fucking?”
I stared up at him, unable to answer. I had
thought I had hidden it well. Obviously not.
“You do, don’t you?” he said.
“No.”
“Well tonight, you’re going to fuck me.” His
body shifted, pressing between my legs, his strength causing them
to spread. I felt the head of his hard cock bump against my
pussy.
“No Steve, I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care what you want.” He shifted
again and his cock nudged between my lips. I tried to move away,
but he was too strong.
“I said no!”
He smiled and flexed his hips, burying half
of his cock into my unprepared pussy. I began to cry out but his
hand moved from my throat to my mouth, cutting off my words.
His eyes locked on mine, and he said, “That’s
right, look at me.” With a violent thrust of his cock, his invasion
was complete.
After he was finished, he rolled off of me
and onto his back. I stared at the ceiling as I listened to his
breathing slow and change into the gentle rhythmic pattern of
sleep. After waiting a few more minutes, I got out of the bed and
went into the kitchen, removing the large butcher knife from the
drawer.
I returned and stood beside the bed, watching
him sleep. I brought the knife up and plunged it down, perfectly
hitting the mark.
I straightened to admire my handiwork. The
knife was embedded in the mattress between his legs, less than an
inch below his sagging ball sack. I quickly got dressed and
left.
Back in my own bed, I finally allowed myself
to cry. I knew that I was at least partially to blame for what had
happened, and I was paying the price for my sick perversion. I got
what I deserved. I vowed to put it all behind me – to give up this
obsession that could never become reality.
