A Cabin with a View Ch. 04

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Dear Readers,

It has been six years since I began writing this series and I have left it unfinished for far too long. You deserve an explanation.

Many of you have noted that most of my stories involve a step-father and a step-daughter. I have tried to write about those things which I understand best. This story about Ron and Miss Sarah is based on a real relationship in my life.

I had a step-daughter who was Miss Sarah. Of course, I have changed the names of the characters and a few details for the protection of all concerned, but “Miss Sarah” was my step-daughter. Many of the details in the story represent my fantasy about our relationship, but I have left enough of the actual details in place so that, if Miss Sarah reads this series, she will recognize the story . . . but that will probably never happen.

I never consummated my relationship with Miss Sarah but, nevertheless, I was obsessed with her. She was estranged from her biological father due to the extreme favoritism he showed to his other children. She had been raised by a step-father who she called “Daddy,” but he had died a sudden coronary death shortly before I entered her life. Initially, when she came to live with me, she did not call me Daddy, and I did not expect it. Eventually, she called me “Daddy” a few times and there is no other feeling in the world that can compare to how I felt when I heard that word.

Early in our relationship, Miss Sarah, her mother, and I all went camping. We had one large tent with one double sleeping bag for the ladies and one sleeping bag for me. At the end of the first evening, her mother was already asleep and snoring softly when Miss Sarah and I retired for the night. Miss Sarah had obviously planned to sleep in just her panties and bra. She looked at her sleeping mother and said to me, ‘well, I guess you’re kind of like family now,’ and she stripped down to her underwear before getting in the sleeping bag. She never made any pretense of modesty around me.

Soon, Miss Sarah and I began to have outings which were like dates. I would take her to a nice restaurant so that she could learn how a lady should be treated by a gentleman. When we arrived at our destination, I would open the car door for her. As she swung her legs around to exit my car, she would sometimes flash a glimpse of her panties at me. When she caught me staring, she simply gave me a sheepish look and then smiled demurely.

On occasion, I would take her shopping after our dinner dates and she often wanted to go to Victoria’s Secret. She would hold up skimpy panties and bras and ask my opinion. I laughingly told her that I would buy anything that she was willing to model for me when we returned home. She would simply smile at me and proceed to select lingerie that was more revealing than concealing. I never actually asked her to model any of her purchases but her mother was always at home when we returned from our outings.

After about a year, Miss Sarah began to sleep in just her panties and bra and she left her bedroom door open. I was always the first in the house who was awake and Miss Sarah was always awake before her mother. I would often look in on her in the mornings and I don’t think her mother knew that Miss Sarah was constantly exposing herself to me. In fact, on a few occasions, Miss Sarah slept in just her panties and I was treated to the sight of her exposed breasts. They were quite lovely.

There were several afternoons when Miss Sarah was in her bedroom changing and she left her bedroom door ajar. She may have felt that her bedroom was private as it was at the end of a hallway with only the laundry room and garage (which was never used for parking cars) beyond it. On several occasions, I walked past her room and saw the back of her body clad only in a thong bikini as she stood studying the clothing choices hanging in her closet.

We had a very private pool and Miss Sarah often sunbathed topless. Anyone at the pool could be seen from within the house but not by any of our neighbors. She never sunbathed topless if I was at the pool but she frequently did so when I was at home. My wife and I usually went au naturel when we were in the pool and I saw Miss Sarah looking out at us on a few of those occasions.

My wife took a train to go visit friends in her old hometown and she was gone for three glorious weeks. During that time, I had to constantly restrain myself from my primordial urges but, when it was all over, I had been a “good boy.” As much as I longed for Miss Sarah, I never wanted to do anything that would hurt her and I never wanted to take advantage of our relationship. That, Literotica readers, is why this forum exists for the expression of our fantasies. For many of us, they are only fantasies.

Despite my desire to be a decent and honorable step-father, I do not know what I would have attempted to do, or what I would have allowed to happen, if I had remained with Miss Sarah for much longer. I felt my resolve weakening and my desire for her body increasing. I longed to suckle at her breasts and to savor the juices of her arousal as I brought her to orgasm illegal bahis with my tongue. I wanted to plunge my manhood into the virgin receptacle of her femininity and I wanted to leave my seed deep within her. I wanted to kiss her sweet lips and hear her say that she loved me, not as a father-figure, but as a lover. I wanted to hear her say that she would never leave me. I was insane with my desire for her.

Unfortunately — or fortunately – her mother and I divorced and, of course, Miss Sarah remained with her mother. Because of the apparent closeness of our relationship, her mother demanded that Miss Sarah cease all contact with me and she obediently complied.

I continued to fantasize about my nubile goddess and my obsession waxed and waned as I experienced other sexual relationships in my life. Eventually, I realized that my obsession was perhaps interfering in my other relationships and I began writing this series, hoping that I would have a catharsis which would release me from the chains of my sexual longing for Miss Sarah. As I approached the end of the series, I realized that this story was my way of saying goodbye to Miss Sarah. Not wanting to release my grasp on all of those pleasant recollections, I avoided writing my conclusion. But alas, an ending is inevitable.

Now it is time to say goodbye to Miss Sarah. I will stop searching for her on the internet and I will try to banish those memories from my conscious recall. I will shed a final tear of remorse and I will accept that which I cannot change. I will forever feel an emptiness in my heart for the goddess of youthful joy and delight, my Miss Sarah.

Now, faithful readers, I give you the conclusion of “A Cabin With A View.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Miss Sarah continued to visit me for a few hours during week nights and weekends and, occasionally, she would stay with me overnight if her mother was out of town. We continued to have sex in almost every way I knew and Miss Sarah made up for her innocence and ignorance of sex with her eagerness to please me. All of her visits did not result in us having sex but we were doing it at least twice a week.

Eventually, the date of the cruise arrived and Miss Sarah and I drove to the port to embark. We had a one bedroom cabin with a balcony that made my teen sweetie squeal with delight. She had brought her dressy clothes for fancy dining and she had brought her skimpiest bikinis for poolside and, of course, she had her birthday suit for our intimate moments.

The first night aboard ship, we had a wonderful dinner and then we went dancing in a lounge which was more appropriate for my age than hers. She was dressed in an elegant cocktail dress and she looked like a young girl trying to please an older man. As we slowed danced, I felt her rubbing her pussy against my thigh.

“Are you tryin’ to make yourself get wet?” I asked.

“No . . . I’m already wet,” she replied.

“Well, if you keep doin’ what you’re doin’, my pants’ll be so tight I won’t be able to move,” I warned her.

“Then let’s go back to our room, dear,” she said in a sultry voice.

As soon as the door closed, she turned to me and said, “I wanna do somethin’ that we haven’t already done,” she said. Her tone of voice indicated that she had something specific in mind.

“What’s that, honey?” I asked. It was difficult to believe that she had been an innocent virgin just months ago.

“Well, I tried that 69 thing before but guys always quit as soon as they came and I know you won’t do that, so I wanna do it the right way and see what all the fuss is about.”

“Honey, I won’t stop until you beg me to stop,” I promised her. I was surprised to realize that we had never done 69. She had given me oral pleasures many times and I had tasted the nectar of her aroused cunt on multiple occasions, but we had never given each other an oral orgasm simultaneously.

It only took a few moments for both of us to be out of our clothes and on the bed. My head was on the pillow and my feet at the bottom of the bed. As soon as I was settled into my position, Miss Sarah got on top of me with her knees straddling my chest and her feet by my ears. To hell with foreplay!

Within a few seconds, I felt her tongue exploring my member. When I opened my eyes, I looked up and saw her beautiful shaved pussy and her obscenely and naughtily exposed asshole. My tongue was inexorably drawn to her pussy like a magnet pointing to the north. As soon as I made contact with the folds of her bare cunt, she began to moan.

“Ooh, don’t stop, Daddy!” she entreated me. “That feels so damn good!”

I had my hands on her rump, gently rubbing in circles. I rubbed in wider circles, bringing my hands closer to her forbidden valley. As soon as my fingertips grazed the outer folds of her pucker, her cheeks squeezed together.

“Should I stop?” I asked briefly as I withdrew my mouth from the lips of her very wet pussy.

“You’d better not!” she retorted, immediately returning to her work on my throbbing dick.

I reached to my bedside and grabbed a bottle of illegal bahis siteleri lubricant. I opened it and squeezed a few drops onto my right index finger. As soon as I had secured the bottle, I placed the tip of my index finger at the entrance to her naughty hole. I applied a slight pressure to the middle of her orifice and waited for her response.

She immediately began to rock backwards as if she wanted my finger to thrust into her. I plunged my finger in up to the second knuckle and she went wild. This only caused me to redouble my efforts on her clit as I sucked it into my mouth and then released it, as if I were giving her clit a blow job.

“Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd, ooooh . . .,” she wailed as an orgasm consumed her body. Her ass cheeks were pulsating and squeezing my finger as her pussy flooded my face with the nectar of her sexual release.

Her moaning pushed me over the edge and I warned her, “I’m gonna cum . . . oh, jeez, I’m so close . . ..”

She didn’t hesitate to keep sucking as I began to erupt with spurts of hot cum into her mouth. The end of my dick felt as if she had sucked a golf ball through a drinking straw. As I emptied my seed into her mouth, I tried to catch my breath.

“So good! So good!” It was all I could say.

She turned around in bed and snuggled up to me. “So THAT’s what all the fuss is about,” she said. “Wow, I thought my coochee was gonna explode! Can you do that again, Daddy?”

“As often as you want,” I replied, “but there are still other things for us to explore.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“For now . . . sleep, my dear,” I replied.

“Daddy, I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too, Miss Sarah,” I responded.

“Daddy, I don’t love you just like a daddy. I mean that I love you like a woman loves a man. I’m in love with you,” she said. There was a timidity in her voice, an uncertainty in her expression, as if she was afraid that her love would be unrequited.

“Miss Sarah, I am in love with you, too, like a man loves a woman. If you’re afraid that I’m gonna stop lovin’ you, you need to stop bein’ afraid. When I’m with you, I’m in heaven. And that’s not just when we’re havin’ sex.”

She turned to me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips.

Within a few minutes, we were both asleep, happy and contented with our lives.

When I awoke next morning, she was awake and standing at the balcony door. She was not wearing anything except her smile. As she stood at the door, she was facing outward, looking past the railing, and she did not turn when she heard me arising.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it, Daddy?” she asked as she looked out at the open sea.

“Just beautiful, Sweetie. This is certainly a cabin with a view, a magnificent view,” I said. My eyes never left her naked young body. I walked up behind her and placed my hands on her warm breasts. Her nipple began to harden and my dick began to fill with desire for her body.

“Daddy, do you love me just for the sex?” she asked.

“Why are you feelin’ so insecure? Honey, I love havin’ sex with you but I love you for much more than just that. Why . . . do you think that I’m obsessed with havin’ sex with you?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m not complainin’ about the sex, ’cause its wonderful. I just need to know that this isn’t just about sex,” she explained. “Will you still love me a month from now, or a year from now?”

“Sweetie, it’s quite normal, when you find somethin’ that you really, really like, to want to hold on to it and never let it go, but . . . life can be funny sometimes. Things change, things happen that you never expected, and suddenly life is much different than you ever thought that it would be. You just can’t predict the future. You can’t.”

“Daddy, are you tryin’ to say that you won’t want me forever?”

“No, no, no! Honey, I want you for as long as you’ll have me,” I insisted.

“Even if that’s forever?” she asked in her little girl voice.

“I hope it’s forever,” I answered.

For a moment, I became lost in my reverie. I really did hope that it would be forever. I realized that Miss Sarah was everything that I wanted in a woman. Of course I realized that our age difference would present problems but I thought we could handle whatever difficulties arose.

The bigger challenge was the fact that I had been married to Miss Sarah’s mother. Since my marriage to Gretchen had ended in divorce, Miss Sarah was not legally my step-daughter. A relationship between us was not forbidden by the laws against incest but polite society would still view our union dimly. Gretchen would become my mother-in-law, but Miss Sarah seemed so distant from Gretchen that I didn’t know what the future would hold for their relationship. Perhaps Gretchen wouldn’t be such a big problem.

‘What if we had children?’ I thought. ‘Children!? Why am I thinking about children?’ My sudden rush of thoughts was overwhelming and I quickly retreated back to the here-and-now.

“Daddy, is it okay if we go get breakfast now instead of havin’ sex? I’m kinda hungry. We can do it later,” Miss Sarah canlı bahis siteleri said with a gleeful anticipation.

“Sure, honey, sure,” I replied.

Over breakfast, we began talking, once again, about the possibility of her living with me. We both saw the advantages and Miss Sarah, of course, saw no disadvantages.

“Honey, I’m not tryin’ to talk you out of the idea, but if you live with me, your momma will probably never talk to you again.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to know that we’re sleepin’ in the same bed every night,” she offered.

“Right, but just the idea of you living in my home will push her off the deep end,” I explained. “If she thinks that you and me are engaged in somethin’ more, she’ll probably try to have me arrested. It won’t do her any good, but she’ll sure enough try.” I felt very confident about this.

“Then I’ll come visit you in jail every day,” Miss Sarah promised with a laugh.

“Honey, as much as I want you, I don’t want to tear you away from your mother. She’s the only mother that you’ll ever have and — despite all the bad things that I can say about her, or that you can say about her — she’s the one that gave birth to you and wiped your ass when you didn’t even know you had crapped in your pants.”

Miss Sarah laughed at my crude humor. “That’s all true, but if she comes between me and you, I’ll never forgive her and I’ll never have anything like a mother-daughter relationship with her, anyway, so what difference does it make?”

“Miss Sarah, you don’t have to rush into a decision about this. I just brought it up for you to think about,” I said.

“I don’t need to think about it anymore. I’ve already thought about it and it’s what I want,” she replied. “How soon can I move in?”

“If you’re sure about it . . . when we get back home, we’ll go right to my place to unpack and then you can go get your things.”

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?” she asked.

“If you want, but you and your momma might wanna have a private conversation,” I tried to explain.

“You mean so she can tell me what a son of a bitch you are?” Miss Sarah asked.

“Something like that,” I responded.

“Well, I already know what you are and I know what your faults are and I love you anyway, so it won’t matter.” She seemed quite determined to not.

She certainly made love to me as if she wanted to capture my heart forever. For the next three days, we continued to enjoy excursions on shore, fine dining and dancing in the evenings, and wild, hot sex late at night and in the mornings.

We didn’t have sex the same way twice. I came in her hand. I came in her mouth. I came in her pussy. I came on her tits. I came in her ass. She came with my finger in her pussy. She came with a vibrator in her pussy. She came with my tongue in her pussy. She came with me sucking on her nipples. She came with me fingering her ass. She came while humping my leg. She came from masturbating while I watched. We had so much sex that my dick was sore from overuse (but I’m not complaining.)

What we had was love. It wasn’t just fucking. Fucking is what you do when you have sex just for your own pleasure and there happens to be a partner in bed having sex with you. Love is what you do when you want your partner to feel as much pleasure as possible, when you want your partner to know how aroused you are and how much you appreciate them for being with you. We made love and I knew that I was not just infatuated with Miss Sarah, not just in lust with her, but in love.

When our ship returned to port, we drove the two hours back to my apartment and I brought all of the bags inside. I told Miss Sarah that I had an errand to run and that she should start unpacking her bags and making room in my bedroom for her stuff.

A few hours later, I returned and saw that she had wasted no time in changing the bedroom to accommodate her and her things. I told her that it was time to go see her mother and we both got in the car. After a few minutes, it became obvious that I was not headed towards Gretchen’s home.

“Where are we goin’, Ron?” she asked.

“Well, I remembered that I have one more stop to make before we go see your mother. So . . . just bear with me and we’ll get through all of this together. You trust me, right?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” she responded.

About ten minutes later, we passed through the entrance of the state park. Because it was a mid-week day, I quickly found a parking spot.

“What are we doin’ here, Ron?”

“You’ll see. Just trust me,” I said.

I opened the car door, grabbed her hand and led her across the walkway over the dunes and out to the sandy beach. Once we were on the beach, we began walking northward, so that the sun was not in our eyes, and I began talking.

“Miss Sarah, I cannot imagine anyone else ever makin’ me feel the way that you do. You’re such a beautiful girl and I know that you won’t be this young forever, but your beauty is more than just your physical appearance. There are so many ways that you make me feel special, that you make me feel loved! When we were on the ship, I thought that you were feelin’ insecure about our future and I spent some time thinkin’ about that. If you are willin’ to be a part of my future and commit yourself to a lifetime with me, then there is only one right and honorable thing to do.”

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