My Stepdad Mistook Me for Mom

Chapter 2

I was so panicked I let out a startled shriek.

Being caught by him in the middle of that. I was mortified beyond words. I quickly pulled the covers over myself, my face burning, my voice barely a whisper, "Dad... you... you didn't knock..."

"Oh, I just came in to grab my clothes."

The situation was unbearably awkward. I expected him to leave immediately, but he walked over and sat down on the edge of my bed, his expression turning serious. "Rebecca, you are still young. You shouldn't be doing things like that. Besides, doing that too often can affect your health."

"I-I... It was my first time. I was feeling really strange earlier, and I just couldn't hold back..."

Afraid he might tell my mom, I felt my eyes sting. "Dad... please don't tell my mom..."

Mom had always had high expectations for me. If she found out I'd done something so shameful, she'd be so disappointed.

"Where does it hurt? Let me take a look. Maybe you're sick."

I didn't expect him to ask that. I felt embarrassed, but I reminded myself he was just concerned about me. Swallowing my shame, I pointed down below. "Here."

He actually asked me to remove the covers so he could check properly. I hesitated. Even though he was like family, he was still a man. He must have seen my reluctance and told me not to be shy.

I thought about it. I was genuinely confused about why I'd been feeling so restless. And he was just going to take a look. So I obeyed and lifted the blanket, showing him everything.

He told me to spread my legs wider. He studied me for a moment, and then, without warning, he reached in with his finger...

I couldn't help but shudder. A muffled moan escaped my lips. I wanted to stop him, but it felt so good, so different from when I touched myself.

Just as I was craving more, he pulled his hand away. A sudden emptiness rushed in, leaving me aching with disappointment. But I was too shy to show it.

"It's nothing serious. You've just reached puberty. Once you find a boyfriend, he'll take care of you, and you won't feel this way anymore."

My face burned so hot it felt like it might drip blood. I lowered my head, too embarrassed to speak. He had no idea that the man I wanted was him. He was the one I'd been fantasizing about just moments ago.

"Alright. Get some sleep. You'll feel better after a good rest."

He tucked me in and left. It was so humiliating. But I still couldn't stop replaying the feeling of his finger inside me. Eventually, I forced myself to close my eyes and stopped thinking about it, and finally fell asleep.

I thought I'd forget about it with time. But I found myself addicted to that feeling. More precisely, I was addicted to my stepfather.

After that day, my mind was filled with fantasies of him. Fantasies of him pinning me beneath him... He, on the other hand, acted like nothing had happened. He treated me the same as always.

Until one night when mom was working late. I'd just finished my shower and was about to go to bed when my stepfather came home. He was dead drunk.

"Dad... why did you drink so much?"

Seeing him swaying at the doorway, his face flushed red, I rushed over to steady him. The moment I touched him, he collapsed against me, pressing his body against mine, flattening my chest against his.

I didn't think much of it. I helped him to the bed, got him lying down, and pulled off his shirt. After that, I tucked him in and turned to leave.

But he grabbed my hand, mumbling, "Laura... I need a bath..."

I turned around, about to explain I wasn't my mom. My face erupted in heat. He'd already pulled off his pants—and his underwear.