Lesbian Erotica

Strictly Taboo

It wasn't like I had planned for this to happen. I wanted to stop, but it was impossible not to. I kept walking the line, tempting fate, screwing around right on the edge of that cliff, right up until I fell. 

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. Thankfully we weren't related, but by marriage, she was still my family. Not a cousin, nor a sister or brother, considering I was an only child. But instead, it just had to be my step mother, Kathrine Peterson, who's last name was changed to Daniels the day she married my father.

This woman, when she first entered into my life, I loathed her with every ounce of passion in my body, in my spirit, in my soul. It wasn't like she had given me any particular reason to hate her, no, just the fact that she was marrying my father just 3 years after my mother's death. He had moved onto this gorgeous woman so quickly I hadn't even had a chance to catch my breath before he had asked her to marry him.

She stood at a height of about five feet, 6 inches, just an inch or two shorter than me and 5 inches shorter than my father. She was slender, fit, toned, a caramel tan color and she was the most attractive woman I had ever laid my blueish-grey eyes on. She wormed her way into my heart without my permission, and what's worse, she knew what she was doing, toying with my head and my emotions. 

My father was barely home anymore, considering he was a truck driver. He only took the job because it pays the bills, but he hates being away from Kathrine and I as often as he is. He's usually only home for an equivalent of 10 days a month. We live in California, but most of his deliveries end up on the east coast. Because of this he wasn't home for all of the times she made a pass at me after they had gotten married 2 years ago, when I was only seventeen years of age.

In a way, it made me hate her even more than I already did. She was married to my father for Christ's sake! But at the same time it lit some sort of fire within me, knowing that a woman as gorgeous as her would look at me the way she did, like I was the most beautiful woman on the planet. But that was impossible, considering she had already taken up residence in that position, with that title.

Even though I struggled to keep my emotions at bay, there was one particular evening that I was at home, laying on the couch with the TV on and a bowl of chicken noodle soup that was almost gone in my hands. I had a cold, a really bad one, that had caused me to have a sore throat, stuffy nose, incurable sneezing and coughing, and a migraine like no other.

The moment she had walked into the door with her messenger bag, she took one look at me and the smile on her face fell. her bag was instantly placed on the floor, her 4 inch black stilettos flew towards the shoe rack, not quite making it, and her legs were quickly making their way to my side. she knelt to the floor beside the couch and placed the back of her hand on my head.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would have brought you some medicine," she said with a worried and disappointed tone in her voice. Her perfectly arched eyebrows frowned as she spoke, and her white, slightly see-through button-up shirt with the first three buttons undone, sending a shiver down my spine but I wouldn't let it show. Her cleavage looked so delicious I could have leaned forward and slid my tongue across the smooth flesh.

"I'm fine, mom. I'll be okay. I got my soup." I pointed to the soup that was resting on my stomach, my back slightly propped up but I wasn't sitting completely upright.

She rolled her eyes and got up from the floor, her black pencil skirt showing me every curve of her round, plump ass, I couldn't help but stare as she walked away, her hips swaying back and forth. She looked every bit the stereotypical hot teacher that she was, which wasn't helping me control the urge to put my hands on her. A moment later she had come back with a bottle of cold and flu medicine and a glass of water, handing them to me.