Chapter 1 of 2.
A bratty stepdaughter finds herself turning into a good girl for her stepfather.
Carl stood in the living room behind his wife as she lay sprawled out on the couch. Overdramatic voices yelled on the television from a new show she’d recently started watching. As with the other shows she seemed to watch, all of the teenagers on the show were actually in their late twenties and far too sophisticated for their own good.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the second bedroom. Light spilled out from beneath the slightly open door and he could spy his step-daughter’s toes and the tiny brush she held against them. Random beats of music reached his ears despite the headphones he knew she’d be wearing. Expensive ones she’d demanded for her birthday. The second set since she broke the first one already.
He turned back to the television. A ‘teenager’ on the show leaned forward over a huge oak desk while threatening the parent of another teenager.
What does she see in these shows? he asked himself.
His wife snorted and rolled slightly. He could see her nipples in the flimsy slip she wore and the bulge of her belly from beneath the too-short top. With a heavy sigh, he knelt beside her and gently touched her shoulder.
“Sweetheart,” he said quietly. Her mouth fell open and he shook her again. “Come to bed.”
“Nnargh,” she grumbled, turning back to face the couch. “Sleep here.”
“You know it’s not good for your back,” he chided her gently while touching her shoulder again. “I’ll help you up.”
“Nnuff,” she snorted, pulling her knees tighter and digging deeper into the fabric cushions.
He stood and closed his eyes. It was a repeat of last week and a variation of a theme repeating itself over the past year. She’d wake up early, crawl into bed while complaining of her back. She’d fall asleep while he lay awake, hours before he needed to be up. Then she’d be grumpy as she got ready for work.
Fuck it, he thought. It’s Friday night. I don’t care.
The remote lay on the floor in front of the couch. He grabbed it, shut off the television and walked to his bedroom. His step-daughter’s music blared and she laughed as he passed. He heard her nails clicking on her phone as she texted someone. He could never keep track of who she was dating or who her friends were. She was mercurial with a temper worse than her mother’s and they’d never clicked very well so he gave her space and she avoided him like the plague.
Already dressed in his pajamas, he clicked the light off to the bedroom and curled into bed, glancing towards the empty spot where his wife slept. He sighed once more and closed his eyes while wondering, not for the first time, what had happened. She’d seemed so full of life when they’d met four years ago. Vibrant and energetic and loving. They’d fallen in love quickly and he’d proposed after a year, marrying less than a year later. He couldn’t even pinpoint the decline. She stopped taking care of herself and withdrew more and more. Last week he’d brought up marriage counseling and she’d looked at him as if he were the dumbest person she’d met.
Why? she’d asked.
He’d been at a loss, trying to decide if she was serious or not and then struggling to find a way to diplomatically explain the issues. He’d settled on carefully saying that he felt they had disconnected lately and maybe talking to someone could help. She’d snorted and said everything was fine before asking what they were having for dinner.
They hadn’t had sex in months. She’d repelled him at first, giving excuses about her back or stress from work or other excuses until he’d stopped asking. Every so often he’d buy flowers or make an especially nice dinner but, while she appreciated it, she didn’t make moves and he felt pushy asking.
Oh, there was that one time, he remembered and then wished he hadn’t.
Three weeks ago, he massaged her slowly in bed. And then kissed her back as he felt himself grow aroused. When she seemed into it, he took a chance. She was dry but he had lube nearby. Just as he’d started to enjoy himself, she’d asked if he was almost done and it killed the moment. He lied and said he was and pulled out.
Laying in the dark, he lowered the blanket and pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand. He woke his phone, navigated to some porn he’d saved and masturbated as quietly as possible. Once finished, the filled tissue went into the partially full trash can next to his side of the bed.
I should bring up the counselor again, he thought, hiding a jaw-cracking yawn behind his hand.
Drained and drowsy, he browsed on his phone until his eyes closed and he fell asleep.
“I’m going to adopt a dog,” Carl announced at the table.
His wife looked up at him, a forkful of pancakes halfway between her plate and her mouth. Thick syrup oozed down the silverware.
“A dog?” she asked. “Like, a real dog?”
“Yes,” he said, pushing his food around.
“I’m not taking care of it,” his step-daughter said. She bit into an apple without looking up from her phone. Her long nails were painted purple now and she bounced her left leg over her right. A half-eaten cup of yogurt sat before her.
“I’m not asking you to,” he told her.
“I don’t want a dog,” his wife, Susan, said. “They’re messy and annoying.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he told her. “I had one when I was a kid.”
“But, why?” she asked. Her expression frustrated him. She wasn’t asking him why he wanted a dog. Her expression conveyed annoyance and a complete lack of understanding – more ‘why in the world would you want to give up time and energy to take care of a useless creature?’
“The house feels empty sometimes,” he said carefully. “And Madison will move out soon-“
“Who says?” the girl asked, looking up from her phone. Her black bangs bounced as she stared at Carl.
“Well, you’re out of high school,” he answered. “And I just assumed you’d move out for community college.”
“I’m not going to-” she started to say.
“You don’t have to leave, baby,” her mother said, patting her daughter’s knee. “Nobody’s saying that. Stay as long as you want.”
Madison moved her knee away, glanced at Carl for a moment and then picked her phone back up, her nails furiously clicking on the screen.
“I’m going to the shelter this morning,” he told them through gritted teeth.
“You can’t,” Madison said without looking up. “I’m taking the car to go shopping.”
“No,” he told her. “I’m going to the shelter.”
“Mom?” Madison sighed.
“A dog’s a big change,” Susan said. “And Madison needs the car. Weren’t you going to work on the second bathroom today?”
He looked between them. His wife cut another chunk from the four stacked pancakes as her attention was pulled away from their discussion. Madison grinned without looking up. Her red lipstick was the brightest color she wore with her plain white t-shirt, black open jacket and black skirt matching her pale face. Sometimes he wished they got along better but other times, he was grateful not to know what she said about him to her friends. Or her mother.
“I’m going to the shelter,” he told them firmly.
“Mo-om,” Madison whined. “I said last night I needed the car. I’m going to a party tonight and I need clothes!”
“Honey,” his wife said. “Just let Madison take it. I really don’t want to deal with a dog in the house. I’m stressed enough at work.”
“No,” he said and they both looked at him. “I’ll take Madison with me and take her to the store afterwards but I’m going to the shelter.”
“There’s no way I-” Madison started to say.
“Just let her take the-” Susan said at the same time.
“It’s my car,” Carl said. He turned to his step-daughter. “You can come with me or not but I’m leaving.”
“Mom?” she pleaded.
“Honey,” Susan said, touching Carl’s arm. “Just let her take the car.”
He ignored her as he pushed his chair back and got up. He grabbed the keys and his wallet from beside the door and then waited. The two women followed him with their eyes, watching him incredulously as he worked his feet into his shoes.
“I’m leaving now if you want to come,” he told Madison.
The girl’s jaw flared out but she flounced from her chair in a huff, grabbing her purse and stepping into her open-toe sandals.
“Fine,” she said shortly.
The parking lot was mostly empty as Carl pulled in. He parked and then turned to his step-daughter.
“You coming?” he asked.
She snorted, her eyes glued to the phone in front of her. He rolled his eyes in return as he took the keys and stepped into the warm summer air.
The sharp scent of chemicals greeted him as he pushed the shelter’s front door open. The faint sound of barking dogs surrounded him and he looked around the small reception area until he found the door marked, simply, ‘Dogs’.
Nodding at the front desk workers, he walked to the double-doors and pushed past, wrinkling his nose at the mixed smell of cleaning fluids and kenneled dogs. The barking intensified but he ignored it, walking around the kennels. Most were empty and the rest seemed filled with sad pitbulls and old lapdogs.
He knelt before one quiet kennel. A black pitbull lay on a small cot but it looked up at him when he approached. Its tail wagged slowly twice before it lay its head back down.
“Sable, huh?” he said, looking up at the dog’s name on the paper above the kennel. “You look like a quiet, calm girl. So pretty, too!”
She was pure black except for a large white mark on her broad chest and the shape of a broken diamond on her forehead. He watched her for a while, imagining her running happily through the house. It was a warm thought that filled him with joy and he stood, dusting off his knees before continuing his walk.
The rest of the dogs seemed ill-suited for him so he returned to reception just as his phone beeped. He pressed the power button and frowned at the text he’d received.
Are you done yet? the text from Madison read. I’m bored.
“Sir?” a shy voice called out. “Have you been helped?”
“Oh, no,” he said, putting his phone away and smiling at the young man behind the counter. “I want to fill out adoption papers, please.”
“Oh, sure! For a dog?” he asked, digging through clipboards in a filing cabinet next to him.
“Yes, please,” Carl answered, rocking on his toes.
“Here you go,” the young man said, passing over a clipboard. “Just fill everything out and we’ll have our staff review it and call you back with the results.”
His phone beeped again but he ignored it as he filled out the questionnaire.
“Were there any dogs you were interested in?” the other man asked.
“Well,” Carl said, signing his name before adding the date. “Sable seemed awfully polite and adorable.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man told him. “Sable’s pending adoption. She’s such a sweetheart but there’s two other families waiting ahead of you.”
“Aww, that’s too bad,” Carl frowned.
“Don’t worry,” the worker said, taking the clipboard. “We have new dogs all the time and some are being fostered. Those we have up on the wall and online. Once we approve your application, you can meet with whoever you want. You should hear back from us today!”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll just wait for the call.”
He left, mentally walking through the dog’s kennel to see if any other dog had seemed a good fit but none came to mind. Madison stood against the passenger side of the car.
“I almost went looking for you,” she fussed at him. “Are you finally done? You didn’t get a dog, right?”
“Yeah, I’m done,” he told her, opening the door to get in. She sat in the passenger seat next to him as he started the car. “I have to wait to hear from them first.”
“I hope they tell you ‘no’,” he said bluntly.
He looked at her while he backed up. Turning the words over in his head. Wanting to lash out at her for being rude. As he drove, he calmed himself, remembering that she was still a teenager – barely – and would grow out of her behavior as she stepped into proper adulthood. He hoped.
The rest of the trip was quiet as he drove further into the city, watching people walk past slow traffic, sighing as young couples held hands or families laughed and children ran happily around their parents. It seemed demoralizing but he reminded himself that it took work and he loved his wife.
“It’s there,” Madison said suddenly. “The white store. Just drop me off. I’ll text when I’m done.”
“I’ll be at the coffee shop next to it,” he told her, smoothly sliding up to the curb.
“That’s too close,” the girl sighed. “Just- can’t you go somewhere else?”
“The coffee shop,” he said again.
“Argh,” Madison groaned, shoving out the car and slamming the door.
He shook his head and pulled forward into an empty spot before checking to make sure no cars were coming. He jumped quickly into the street to walk briskly into the coffee shop. Despite the heat, he ordered a huge chai and happily took it with him into the corner, settling next to a small round table and relative silence.
Carl leaned back into his chair, occasionally sipping his drink while watching the people around him. Despite it being the weekend, several people had laptops open to spreadsheets and presentations. A few young kids laughed and passed phones around and older adults bent over their phones to browse. He watched them all before glancing out through the giant windows and the street outside.
His phone suddenly clattered on the table and he snatched it, turning it and unlocking it with a practiced move of his fingerprint.
Come here, the text from Madison read.
“Huh,” Carl said, staring at his phone for a moment. A rebellious part of him wanted to put the phone away and make her wait to ask more nicely but, instead, he grabbed his phone and chai, resigned to his lot in life.
Clouds passed quickly overhead as a breeze ruffled skirts and hair and odd bits of trash on the sidewalk. He shaded his eyes and walked next door into the serene interior of the huge clothing store. A salesclerk glanced briefly at him before moving on to another rack of clothing. He ignored her and looked around for his step-daughter before spotting her near the changing rooms. He’d expected her to be waiting by the front but she beckoned him to her area.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, glancing at the two pieces of clothing she held.
“No,” she said. She frowned, bit her lip and looked around the store. Her mouth opened but she closed it and the corner of her mouth turned up as her brows creased.
“Well?” he prodded.
“You’re a man,” she stated.
“Uh,” he answered back.
“Which of these is better?” she asked, shoving her hands forward.
He stared at her and then looked down. A black, pleated skirt was held in a hanger in her left hand while a black tube top dress was in the other.
“Better for what?” he asked suspiciously.
“Come onnnn, Carl,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “For the party tonight. Which do you like better?”
“Me?” he asked, eyes wide.
“You’re a man, aren’t you?” she asked again. Her serious brown eyes flicked around his body before settling on his eyes. She licked her lips and shoved the clothes forward again. “So? Which one?”
He pictured her in them and felt foolish for doing so. He could see her in his mind’s eye with the skirt and her white t-shirt and jacket but the dress was different. It looked slim and he blushed as he imagined it tight against her body. An image of the shelter came to mind, bringing with it Sable. Pure black but for the two white patches of fur. Sleek and strong. Like his step-daughter in the dress. Tight against her body, outlining all her curves and-
“The dress,” he told her.
“Finally,” she said, turning to shove the skirt onto a nearby metal rack. “Let’s go.”
She pushed past him, brushing his shoulder and then slowing to let him catch up. As he did, she stuck close, just behind his left shoulder. He could feel her behind him and the hairs stood up along his body as if she were pure electricity. It was the first time they’d really done anything together, without her mother.
Once they reached the counter, she bumped into him again and laid the dress down, glancing over her shoulder before looking forward. He watched her pay and did his best to not imagine her in the dress. When he’d met his wife, she was (still is! he told himself) pretty but her daughter was gorgeous. He swore she used the goth style on purpose since she knew he wasn’t a huge fan but, even with the black clothing and hiding her face, it was hard to deny her looks.
Finished paying, she grabbed her bags, took a step and then turned. Indecision crossed her eyes and she seemed uncertain of herself for a brief moment.
“I’m done,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m ready to go.”
The gesture surprised him but he hid it, nodding and walking past the counter as she followed close behind.
“It is pretty, isn’t it?” she said with a hint of a question in her voice. Madison held the dress before her in the passenger seat.
“Yes?” he asked, uncertain if she was asking his opinion.
“It is,” she affirmed. She bit her lip and turned to him. “And- and you like it?”
“I-” he looked at her. The girl turned back to look at the dress and he focused on the road again. “Yes?”
“Well,” he continued, weighing his words. “Everything you have is black lately. I- I think maybe some color would be nice.”
“I like black,” she told him. “I like black.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to say you shouldn’t wear black.”
Her hand rested on his thigh briefly, her fingers touching his leg like a nervous butterfly resting on a leaf.
“It’s fine,” she told him before withdrawing her hand. “I know what you mean.”
The rest of the car ride was quiet as he examined the conversation in his mind. Her voice sounded softer and less aggressive. It was a new side of her and he was glad to see it after years of push back.
When they arrived back home, she clutched the dress tight and ran inside without a word. He watched her, shook his head and then followed.
A note from his wife waited for him: Gone out with friends. Home late.
Grunting, he dropped his wallet and keys, kicked off his shoes and went to the utility room to find his toolbox.
Pipes lay exposed behind the open skirting surrounding the bathtub. Carl sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing his sore hands. Sections of the pipe lay on an old towel on the floor.
He felt her presence before she spoke and he turned to find Madison standing in the doorway in ripped blue jean shorts and her t-shirt. Her right foot rested against her left ankle and her left hand pressed against the door frame. As before, she seemed confused and, noticing his gaze, she pressed her hands together against her belly.
“You’ll have to use the other bathroom,” he told her. “I’ve got the water turned off in here and it’s a mess.”
“I don’t-” she said, pausing to suck on her lip. Their coloring seemed less bright now but then he realized she had her hair back and her face was more open. “I don’t need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh,” he said, waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t he narrowed his eyes. “So, uhh, what do you need? Your mom’s still out.”
“No, I- what are you doing?” she asked. She released her hands and rubbed her palms against her thighs. The motion brought her arms against her breasts and they pushed forward.
“Fixing a leak,” Carl said, quickly looking away.
The silence stretched and he carefully looked back to find her staring at his body, her eyes lingering on his arms.
“Do- do you need anything?” Madison asked. Her pale cheeks held a hint of color in them. “You’re- you have dirt on you and stuff.”
“No,” he told her, turning back to the pipes. “No, thank you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt her leave.
Time passed as he finished tightening the connections in the wall. The entire skirting was off but a new one was waiting for him to install. He bent to grab the first section and yelled when he spotted Madison standing in the doorway again.
The end of her shirt was twisted into a knot that left her smooth belly exposed. She wore makeup now and he was surprised to see more than just black on her face.
Is that glitter on her eyelids? he wondered in amazement. She looked amazing and he swallowed quickly before coughing.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, staring steadily into her light brown eyes.
“Yeah,” she said, twisting a toe into the carpet in the hallway. She sucked her lip into her mouth and then released it, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops on her shorts. Her arms hung down, pulling the shorts and he looked down involuntarily to see the top of her perfectly smooth mound.
Fuck! he cursed, chastising himself as his ears burned. He looked up and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra now. Her nipples pressed into her shirt, thick as the tip of his thumbs.
“Alright, well, I should just keep working on this,” he said quickly, the words stumbling together. “Don’t you have that party to go to? My keys are hanging on the wall by the door.”
“Soon,” she said. “I’ll get ready soon. I don’t know, I’m just restless. Can I hang out here for a while?”
No, he thought.
“Sure,” he said.
He ignored her as she carefully stepped around everything laid out on the floor until she sat on the lid of the toilet, swinging her right leg over her left. The subtle, sweet scent of her perfume wound its way through the bathroom but he ignored it as he focused on his work. Madison sat quietly the entire time, bouncing her leg in an endless rhythm.
Just as he finished installing half of the skirting, she stood.
“I have to get ready,” she told him. “For the party. For the party tonight.”
He looked at her slowly, focusing on her high cheekbones, smooth skin and light eyes. Studiously ignoring everything below her chin.
“Okay?” he said, wondering why she felt the need to tell him. “I’ll be here. Drive safe and be safe. I don’t know when your mom will be home.”
“Are you-” she paused, biting her lip. The fingers of her right hand pressed against her midriff and she scratched herself quickly. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he grunted, grabbing another section and setting it on the wall.
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll just go. I’ll- yeah, I’ll just- I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left and Carl pressed his forehead against the wall, breathing out until his lungs were empty. Her scent lingered but he threw himself into the work, ignoring her sounds until the door closed behind her.
The phone rang, startling Carl out of deep sleep. He yelled, slapping at his phone in confusion until he realized where he was and what was happening. Sitting up, he looked at the name and quickly unlocked it.
“Madison?” he asked, suddenly alert. The odds of her randomly calling him were next to none. “Are you okay?”
“Y- yessh,” she slurred. “I just- I just- I just- had too much. To drink. I don’t. Want to be here. Want to be home. Miss home.”
“Where’s your-” he started to say until he turned to see the empty bed. He slid out from the covers and walked into the living room but it was empty as well. “Your mother’s not here.”
“You come get me,” she said. Loud cheers erupted in the background and someone shouted something unintelligible. “You. Come get me. You. By. By the. Grant’s house. Grant. You come get me.”
He knew the Grant’s well – one of the richest families in the area.
“Are you safe?” he asked, worried for her. “Is something wrong?”
“Noooo,” she sighed and then giggled. “Yessss. Jusss’ miss home. Come get me.”
“Alright,” he said, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “I’ll be there soon. Just- just wait outside.”
“Yessss, daddy,” she giggled, disconnecting the call.
He grunted and flicked through the apps on his phone before finding the one to call a car to pick him up. Grabbing the house keys, he went out into the warm night air in order to sit on the steps and wait for the driver. When the car arrived, he opened the back door, thanked the lady in the front seat and confirmed the address.
The driver offered no conversation and he was grateful for it, preferring to sit in the silence and worry about his wife and step-daughter. They arrived and he tapped a tip into the phone before getting out.
Madison jumped up and swayed from the front of the house, grinning when she spotted him. Laughter and loud voices called out from within the well-lit house. He looked her over, worried that she’d lied about being in trouble but her dress was spotless and her hair was perfectly held back.
He met her at the bottom of the stairs and then stumbled as she fell into his arms. He held her by reflex and she nuzzled against him with a quiet growl. She was warm and soft and he couldn’t help but smell the flowery shampoo she used in her black hair. Her arms wrapped around him as she pressed harder into him but he gently pried her off.
“You okay?” he asked, shame filling him as he felt his cock stir.
“Yesssss, daddy,” she repeated with another quiet giggle.
“And the keys?” he checked, suddenly worried she’d lost them.
“Purse,” she muttered, waving back at the steps. “Purse. In the- in the purse. My purse.”
He went around her but she grabbed his arm and clung to him, pressing into his side as he went to the steps to retrieve her purse. The keys lay half out of the side pocket so he grabbed them. Madison bent with him and then nearly fell as she lost her balance. He grabbed her and she hugged back.
“Come on,” he said, gently prying her off again. “Let’s get you home.”
As he turned, she grabbed his hand, her fingers twining through his and she followed him to their car, parked further down the road. He opened the passenger door and she slid in, tucking the dress beneath her before grabbing her seatbelt.
When he opened his door to sit, she stared at him, watching him adjust the seat and mirror. Overly conscious of her gaze, he started the car and pulled away.
“And you’re sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Yesssh,” she sighed, nodding her head with exaggerated movements.
She reached out to place her hand on his thigh and he jerked at her touch. After a few seconds, he gently moved her hand but she gripped him, holding his hand instead. He turned to glance at her and felt the hairs raise along his body when he realized she was staring intently at him. Moonlight caressed her face through the cloudless sky and her cerulean blue eyes studied him carefully.
Carl swallowed. He tried to open his hand to let her hand go but she held him tightly so he ignored it and focused on the road. She pulled his hand slowly toward her until it rested against her leg. And then her hand opened and she pushed his fingers into her thigh with a quiet sigh.
“You-!” Carl said, snatching his hand away. “You’re drunk.”
“Yesssh,” she giggled, nodding several times. She placed her delicate fingers on her neck and tilted her head back, tracing her fingers down her throat, along her chest and down her stomach. Carl swallowed as he saw the movement in the corner of his eyes.
“Can you walk?” he asked as the car’s engine ticked over in their driveway.
“No,” she pouted, leaning towards him. “Carry me.”
He grunted and got out, walking over to her side to open her door. He pressed the seat belt release and helped her stand.
“Carry me,” she whispered in his ear, raising herself up until she reached.
“You can walk,” he said as goosebumps rose along his body. “Come on.”
She leaned on him and grabbed his hand while pulling his arm against her breasts, following him on unsteady legs down the driveway and into the house.
“Here,” he said, kneeling in front of her.
She growled, pulling at her dress as he held her leg steady to help her out of her shoes. Madison wiggled her toes through her stockings and then groaned, digging her fingernails into her hips as he helped her out of her other shoe.
“To your room,” he told her, guiding her once more.
He rarely set foot into her room and was disgusted to see how messy it was. Clothing littered the floor with makeup and bags and- he averted his eyes away from the pair of black lacy panties flung over the back of a chair.
“Alright,” he said, turning and trying to extricate himself from her grip. “Goodnight. I hope you feel better in the morning.”
She held him tight, pulling him close and going to her tiptoes once more, trying to kiss him. He pulled back, eyes wide but she tried again until he shoved her away. Her lips parted to show her teeth and her sharp blue eyes narrowed.
“You’re drunk,” he told her again. “Get some sleep.”
He shut her door before she could stop him and then hurried to his own room, closing the door behind him. Carl slipped under the covers and closed his eyes, furiously ignoring the raging erection beneath his pajamas.
He cursed his dead bedroom and blamed it for his hard-on, pushing away the image of his step-daughter’s full lips and the feeling of her soft breasts against his arm.
“Dammit,” he muttered, reaching over to grab a tissue. He clutched his phone, pulling up the porn he’d watched earlier when he’d gone to bed. Placing the tissue over the head of his cock, he gripped it tight and masturbated quickly, staring at the silent smut as it played out.
His orgasm was hard. Right as he felt the release, he saw her in his mind. Her lips close to his. Her warm, sweet breath on his mouth. Her eyes closed. Hungry. Needy.
“Goddammit,” he cursed again, throwing the tissue away and burrowing into the blankets.
Warmth against him. Carl smacked his lips and pulled his wife close. His arm held her tight as she wriggled her ass into his crotch and she groaned when his hand squeezed her bra.
Thoughts ascended from the bottom of his sleep-dulled brain to the top, raising red flags along the way until his eyes popped open. Dull morning light shone through the bedroom blinds.
Madison lay against his bare chest. His pajama top was unbuttoned and open and her bare skin radiated heat onto the hair covering his chest. His hand opened and she sighed before her breathing resumed its steady rhythm.
Licking his lips, he pushed carefully away from her and sat up. She lay in an open fetal position. Her shoulder-length black hair was undone and her slim body was covered by a pair of lace panties that rode high between her thighs and a matching bra that showed her nipples through the frilly black lace.
He reached out to gently touch her back.
“M- Madison,” he said, shaking her carefully. “Madison, wake up!”
The girl’s eyes fluttered open and then closed before opening completely. She shoved herself back against the bed and then grabbed the blanket to cover her body.
“What the-!” she yelled, looking wildly around the room. “What are you doing in my bedroom, you fucking-!”
“You are in my bedroom,” he said as his heart pounded in his chest.
Madison glanced around with the blanket held beneath her chin. Comprehension dawned.
“Why?” she asked. “Stop looking at me!”
“Hell,” Carl said, looking at the wall next to the bed. “I don’t know why. I brought you to your bedroom last night and-“
There was a sharp sound that made Carl look over at the girl. She had dropped the blanket and was sniffing the air, turning left and right. Lowering her nose to the blanket, she huffed and breathed deeply and then twisted out of them, going to all fours.
“Wha-” he stuttered. “What are you doing?”
Ignoring him, she sniffed the blanket and crawled onto his lap, turning her head left and right. Her glossy black hair brushed against him but she reached out to press a hand against the wall. She lowered herself down next to the bed and her hips wiggled back and forth as she leaned forward to his wastebin.
With a second loud huff, the girl shoved her face into the small trash can. She groaned, trembled and raised her ass.
“What are you-!” Carl gasped, reaching for her. “Stop! Don’t-“
She leaned back with a slow moan, grabbing her breast while clawing her side. Once more she leaned down and her hair cascaded over the basket. Her hand reached beneath her body, slowly sliding up and between her thighs.
“Madison!” Carl shouted.
It jolted her and she sat back, licking her lips. Her eyes were distant and he felt ashamed to admit that he noticed her hardened nipples through her sheer bra. Her mouth opened and her tongue slowly traveled over her canines and over her full, reddened plump lips. She growled and squeezed her breasts, pulling at the bra until her right breast slipped free from the thin fabric.
“Smells so good,” she moaned. She bent as if to lean forward but Carl grabbed her shoulder to hold her back.
“Wake up, Madison!” he yelled, shaking her hard. Her ears rotated back at his loud voice and she shrunk from him with a whimper.
“Why am I-” she started to say. Rather than finish, she pushed herself into a standing position. “I’m just-“
She left without another word, stumbling and catching herself against the wall. He waited until she was in the hallway and then he followed her to ensure she made it to her bedroom.
Safely alone, he lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried to ignore what he saw and prayed for sleep to take him but the thoughts wouldn’t stop tumbling and turning and twisting and repeating the events of the night.