I fucked my stepson

I awoke to the sound of my husband’s cell phone ringing. I opened a bleary eye and glanced over at the clock as he answered it. 4 AM and a Sunday to boot. After a few words, he closed his phone and started to get out of bed. Mark is on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week as a negotiator for a large industrial holding company.

“Sorry hun, they want me to catch the 6.25 morning flight to Chicago, the deal has collapsed. I feared this was going to happen. They have booked my flight and are sending a car around.”

I lay back on the bed and groaned. I could not complain though, he earned a lot of money. I had given up my job six years ago to stay at home and look after Robert and Craig, his now 18-year old identical twin sons. Mark is 42, ten years my senior and had gained custody of them from his first marriage.

He opened the shower door and started the water running. I loved looking at his naked body, although a nice, long Sunday morning of sex was certainly out of the question now. That was a shame, because I was getting horny. Slipping on my short silk robe, I went into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. He was a light eater, and I knew he would get breakfast on the plane anyway, courtesy of his first class ticket. I decided that I would make myself a bacon omelet while Mark was getting ready.

By the time he appeared in the kitchen I had eaten and was rinsing out the dishes in the sink. He swigged his coffee down, came up behind me and put his coffee cup in to the soapy water.

His hands slipped under my arms to fondle my perky C cup breasts. I closed my eyes and murmured appreciatively which encouraged him to pull my robe open. His strong fingers tweaked my nipples before his right hand ran down between my legs. I thought for a minute we might have time for a quick one, but we heard the company car pull up in the driveway.

“Sorry Lindsay, I got to go.” Mark kissed me on the lips and left the house, travel and laptop bags slung over his shoulders.

I turned back to the dishes and suddenly noticed Robert standing in the doorway from the study. Casually closing my robe, I wondered how long he had been standing there. He sauntered over as if nothing had happened and sat at the breakfast bar.

“Morning hun, didn’t know you were up.” I greeted him.

“Hey Mom, well I heard Dad getting up, and then the smell of bacon cooking.”

“Do you want some? I can quickly rustle up eggs and bacon.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind. Have you heard from Craig?”

“He should be back tonight. The Parkinsons are going to take him to see a movie and then drop him off later.”

As I broke the eggs, Robert poured himself some coffee. He was wearing black pajama bottoms and a light blue T-shirt. His short dark hair was tousled from his sleep and I unconsciously touched mine. Like his Dad and brother, they all have startlingly grey eyes. I was the odd one out with long white blond hair and blue eyes, courtesy of my Scandinavian genes. “My blond warrior princess” Mark often called me.

Placing the plate in front of Robert, he immediately started to devour the food. I thought “Teenage boys! Always hungry, always…” My mind went back to earlier this morning; just how long had he been standing there? Robert, now filled up with some calories and a little wired on the caffeine, started to chat. I half listened as he talked about school and his computer gaming friends.

“So, you don’t have a girl friend yet?” I smiled. He blushed. “I’ll take that as a no then.” He started to say something and stopped. I made eye contact and he looked away.

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