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Back when I was about twenty, my old dad said to me, over a beer one day, “A divorced woman is like a used car.” I had to ask him what he meant by that, and he clarified by saying, “Just remember, a man gets rid of a used car for a reason.” Looking back, I’m not sure if he was just making blokey conversation, or whether he was actually offering me some fatherly advice, but sadly he never lived to see my own wedding day himself, seven years later. He’d been gone two years by then, after we lost him to cancer, but if he had been there to see me tying the knot with Lyndall, I sometimes wonder if he would have reminded me.

Technically, Lyndall wasn’t divorced, because she’d never actually been legally married, but she’d been in a de-facto relationship for about six years, so she was the next best thing to a divorcee. She already had two kids when I met her, so I kind of got a package deal when we got married, with a ready-made family, consisting of a wife and two young girls: Krystal, who was seven, and Karla, who was only four years old.

I’ve got to say, Lyndall and I were happy for the first few years, or at least I know I was. I grew to love those two girls like they were my very own, and they grew to love me right back. Lyndall and I also tried for another baby, but mid-term, she developed some complications, and she lost him. That’s right; we would have had a son, but fate decided otherwise, and the doctors told us that another pregnancy would probably kill her, so I went in for the snip, and had a vasectomy, so there was no chance of that ever happening. We decided it was better for me to get the snip than for Lyndall to get her tubes tied, because her body had been through enough as it was.

I remember, the doctor emphasising that the procedure was permanent, and then asking me if I was prepared to accept that it was permanent, in case my marriage didn’t work out down the track, but I laughed at that, and said, “I’m married to the woman of my dreams, and that’s just not gonna happen.” How was I to know what the future held?

Looking back, it almost seems that losing the baby was a turning point, but things were never the same after that. Lyndall said she’d sailed through both her pregnancies with the girls, so it must have been something that came from my side. She was bitter for a long time, and I told myself it was hormonal, then when things didn’t improve with time, I just tried to ride it out, but I really don’t think things were ever the same again. Not that it was all bad times, though. We had long periods, years in fact, when things were really good, and I had my wife and two great kids to come home to, and when the bad times came, I just accepted that this was how life worked.

Those two girls were great. They rarely gave us any grief, and they made our married life so much better. They became very close to me, and often when Lyndall and I argued, they would take my side, not that I needed backup from two young kids, but it just shows the bond that had developed between us. Things got really bad for a period between Lyndall and me, around the time Karla started high school, and as far as Lyndall was concerned, I just couldn’t do anything right, but then we kind of got over that, and settled back into normal family routine for the next couple of years. I stuck it out, telling myself that I loved her, and I loved those girls too much to walk out, even though I was sorely tested a few times, but then, when Karla was sixteen, Lyndall got pregnant.

She told me the vasectomy must have failed, but these things can only stay hidden for so long. It turned out she’d been screwing a sleazy little guy called Vinnie for ages, and Vinnie had told her a little white lie, saying he’d had a vasectomy as well. Lyndall had been playing an unwitting game of sexual Russian roulette for months, but unfortunately, Vinnie wasn’t really shooting blanks at all, and one must have hit the target.

The pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, and Vinnie disappeared for a while, but once again, Lyndall and I stayed together, for Karla’s sake, I told myself, because by this time, Krystal was nineteen, and although she was still living at home with us, she was already working full-time, and was old enough to fend for herself if the marriage broke up.

A year later, Vinnie was back on the scene, and in spite of what he’d done to Lyndall the first time, she got back with him again, and incredibly, she moved out of our place, to move in with him. The night she moved out, two weeks after Karla’s seventeenth birthday, things got very ugly at our place.

Lyndall managed to drag up something from every argument we’d had, in thirteen years together, and throw it in my face, and I put Vinnie through our front screen door, although I didn’t bother to open it first. Karla finished off the evening’s entertainment, by screaming at her mother, “Go and fuck yourself! You’re not a mother, you’re not even fit to be called one!” and then, adding, “Go and fuck your sleazy little boyfriend, see if we care! We’ll be happy without you!” as Vinnie reversed his car out of the driveway, with Lyndall stone-faced in the front seat next to him. Karla hardly ever swore, so her tirade made the whole thing much more disturbing.

That night, the three of us, Karla, Krystal and me, slept in my queen-size bed, the two girls huddled together on one side, crying themselves to sleep, while I lay on the other side of the bed, my anger at the hurt Lyndall had caused my two girls blotting out any pain I felt on my own behalf.

The next day, we got up and started our new lives together, without Lyndall, and in time, we got things going really well. We were a family, a man and his two stepdaughters, we all got on perfectly together, and every day, the girls did things to show me they loved me.

For sisters, Karla and Krystal weren’t much alike. Krystal, at twenty, was very much like her mother to look at, being tall, fair-haired and curvy, with a pretty face. She was a looker, with rounded, perky breasts, and a beautifully shaped backside that got a lot of second glances from guys when she walked past. Karla, on the other hand, was more like her father, being tall and slender, with dark hair, and a little darker complexion than Krystal. Both girls had brown eyes, and their mother’s mouth, although when I say that, it means their mouths resembled their mother’s to look at, and not because of what came out of them.

Karla was about five feet eight inches tall, and was slim built, like her natural father. She wasn’t straight up and down like Olive Oyl, but was just slender, with a few modest, girlish curves, just the same. Her boobs were fairly small, but were nice enough in shape, and her bottom, while not the traffic-stopper her sister had been blessed with, was still worth a second look, especially in the cute little denim shorts she liked to wear in summer. Those shorts also used to show off her legs, and while they were still a little on the thin side, they definitely had a nice shape to them.

If Karla wasn’t a stunner to look at, she made up for it with a certain amount of style. She was bright, she spoke well, she had a ready wit, nice manners, and rarely swore or used foul language. She didn’t smoke, and she was fairly popular at school. All in all, Karla was a really great girl, and I was proud to have helped bring her up this way.

When Karla was seventeen, she got her first boyfriend. His name was Anthony, and he was two years older than she was. He was a decent enough young guy, and he had a job, dressed respectably and had good manners, so she could have done a lot worse. Nobody needed to tell me that Karla lost her virginity to Anthony, I just knew. It was little things, like their body language, a subtle change in Karla’s demeanour, and of course, as homicide detectives often say on TV, Anthony had motive and opportunity. She was still in high school, in her second last year, but even as close as we were, with no mother around to handle the issue, I felt a bit strange about talking to her about contraception, so I had a word with Krystal, who had a word with Karla, and then took her to the doctor to get a prescription for the pill. Maybe Mike Brady might have handled it differently, but at least I did something.

Karla and Anthony kind of petered out after about eight months, and it wasn’t like some traumatic break-up; they just stopped going out together, but remained on good terms, with no fuss or bother. Then, Krystal moved out of our house, to move in with her boyfriend, so by the time Karla was eighteen, there were just the two of us living there.

By that stage of my life, things seemed to be going okay. I was forty-one years old, and I’d gotten over losing Lyndall to her sleazebag boyfriend, but although I’d had a couple of brief flings, and one or two one-night stands since she walked out, I didn’t have a woman in my life. Karla was in her last year of high school, with a part-time job at McDonalds after school and on weekends, and she was living happily at home with me, and we looked after each other as best we could. All in all, I thought life was pretty good.

About halfway through the year, my niece, Jenna, got married to her fiancé, whose name was Damien. Jenna’s father was my elder brother, Frank, and although his four daughters weren’t related to my girls by blood, they all considered themselves to be cousins, and they got on famously together. Naturally, Karla, Krystal and I were invited to the wedding, which, ironically, was held in the same church where Lyndall I got married fourteen years earlier.

The wedding was on a Saturday afternoon, with the reception held afterwards, in a function centre, not far from the church. I had given Krystal and Karla my Visa card during the week, to go and buy a new outfit for Karla to wear to the wedding, and I had trusted their judgement in getting her something appropriate, but I hadn’t had a chance to see what they had bought for her. Shortly before we were due to leave for the wedding, I called out to her, down the corridor towards her bedroom, “You ready?”

Karla stepped from her bedroom, wearing a sleeveless, formal dress that was knee-length, and deep purple in colour, with black lace trim. The neckline showed off some of her modest cleavage, and the dress hugged her slender curves on the way down. She had a silver necklace, with matching earrings, her dark hair was up, and then to top it off, she was wearing black high heels. She rarely wore heels, not that she needed them, and when she stepped out of her room, she walked a bit like a young foal finding its feet. Her air of elegance and sophistication was in contrast with her coltish gait, as she walked down towards me, and I said, “You look, umm,” but I paused, to think of an adequate word, and then just settled for, “beautiful.”

“Well, don’t sound so surprised,” Karla said, smiling as she walked up to me. With her heels, she was only about an inch shorter than I was, and she added, “You don’t look too bad, yourself,” as she looked me up and down.

She gave my suit a quick adjustment, by tugging at the shoulders, and then at the bottom of the jacket, and she stood back for another look, and said, “There, perfect. Watch out ladies, Allan Maxwell’s dressed up in his best suit, and he’s on the prowl.”

“Come on,” I said, and Karla linked arms with me as we walked towards the front door. She had only passed her driving test a few months before, after three attempts, and she liked to drive the car every chance she got, so she grabbed the keys from the side table, and said, “Can I drive?” and headed for the driver’s door, without waiting for an answer. She took off her heels in the car, and she drove to the church in her stockinged feet, and then as she sat with the driver’s door open, putting on her heels again, she looked up at the church, and said to me, “This is where you and Mum got married, isn’t it?”

She was only four when I married her mother, and I wasn’t sure if she’d remember, but I said, “Yeah,” without elaborating, and as she took my arm to walk over to the group of guests waiting outside in the sun, she said, “Happy memories, then.” Her tone was ironic.

“I got you and Krystal out of it, so I’m not complaining,” I answered, smiling back at her. “We aren’t, either,” was her reply.

After the wedding, we adjourned to the reception, where Krystal, along with her boyfriend, Dale, Karla, and I were seated near the bridal table. Early in the evening, the deejay played an appropriate song, as Jenna and her new husband did their bridal waltz around the floor. Then, he invited everyone else up to join the happy couple in a slow dance. “Dance with me?” Karla said, giving me a smile. “My pleasure, young lady,” I responded.

We got up together, and walked to the floor, and we took hold of each other to join the other couples waltzing around the room, and as I held my pretty, eighteen-year-old stepdaughter in my arms, in her pretty purple dress, with her sweet, stylish perfume, I felt to my embarrassment, that my cock suddenly went rock hard. I shifted my stance slightly, so my erection wouldn’t press against her, and after a minute or two of awkward dancing, Karla said, “I’m not made of crystal, you know.”

Preoccupied as I was by what was happening in my pants, I didn’t understand her properly, and I thought she had said something about her sister, Krystal. I looked over at our table, to where Krystal had been sitting, but she was now on the floor, slow-dancing with Dale. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You’re holding me like you think I’m gonna break in half,” Karla said, speaking low so no-one else would hear, “What’s wrong?”

She adjusted her own stance and pulled me in closer to herself, but within only two beats of the music, my hard tool bumped her lower belly through our clothing. “Oh,” she said, looking down. I felt hot with shame, and all I could say was, “Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Now I know why you didn’t want to get too close,” she smiled, leaning closer, so she could speak quietly.

“Look,” I started, “I’m really sorry about that. Do you want to sit down?”

“No!” Karla said, as though sitting down was a totally ridiculous idea, “It’s all right. Your body doesn’t know who I am,” she said, as she calmly adjusted her own pelvis and her own stance, so my horn wasn’t touching her.

“But you’re my stepdaughter,” I said, looking down, still burning with shame.

“So what?” Karla said, breezily, still smiling, still dancing, “It’s not like we haven’t been properly introduced.” Then, she leaned in so our faces were close, as we danced, and added, “Although, I gotta say, I’m a little surprised Mum left you if you had that to bring to the table.”

We both giggled explosively, and quite a few people looked around at us. After we had regained our composure, Karla kept eye contact me with me, as though she didn’t want to look at anyone else, and said, “I can’t believe I said that.” At least the laughter and conversation made my erection subside, and we had one more slow dance, before the deejay put on a rap song, and Karla said, “Not your style, is it?” We left the floor to rejoin Krystal and her boyfriend.

“What was so funny out there?” Krystal asked.

“I stepped on Allan’s toe,” Karla answered, to my relief.

“Heels,” I added, to help out.

“I guess you had to be there,” Krystal said, looking at us like we were two very odd people.

Later in the evening, I stood with my brother, Frank, and his daughter, Jenna, the radiant new bride, as we watched the couples on the dance floor. There was another slow song playing, and there were only about half a dozen couples dancing to it, including Karla and Krystal, who were slow dancing with each other, doing exaggerated dips and turns, laughing, giggling and generally having a ball together.

“You’ve done a great job with those two,” Frank said, as my two girls paraded across the floor in a parody of the tango, “especially the Little One, all by yourself, since Lyndall fucked off.” Frank was a man who didn’t mince words, hence his use of the words, “fucked off,” and The Little One had been his nickname, and term of endearment, for Karla, ever since he met her, when she was four years old, and so much smaller than her big sister. He still referred to her by that name, even though The Little One was now only a few inches shorter than he was, and Karla herself, who loved him dearly, would still send him birthday cards, signed, “Your loving niece, Karla, a.k.a. The Little One.”

“Those two girls love you more than anything, Uncle Allan,” Jenna added, but somehow, after what had happened earlier on the dance floor, all this praise for my standing as a stepfather made me feel like some sort of fraud. “I was just lucky,” I guess,” I answered, as modestly as I could.

In time, the reception ended, and everybody left. There was a feeling of happiness, and hope for the future in the air, as we watched Jenna and Damien leaving the centre in a hired limo, with everyone smiling, hugging each other, promising to keep in touch, and Karla and I were among the last to leave. On the way home, as Karla drove, and I sat in the passenger seat, she said, “Well, Jenna’s all married up, now. I guess she and Damien’ll be making sweet music together before long.” She chuckled, and added, “I guess that’s what weddings are all about, you know, romance, love, yada yada yada,” and then she added, like it was an afterthought, “making love.” She turned to smile at me, like she was waiting for a reply, and then looked back at the road, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t think I had much to offer on the subject of marriage.

After a moment, Karla went on with, “Come on, Al, I’m trying to get a conversation going over here, but you’re not helping much. I’m getting sore gums from flapping them.” She only ever called me Al when she was fooling around with me like that, because she knew I preferred being called Allan.

“After my experience with marriage, I don’t think I’ve got much to say about that subject,” I said, keeping my tone light, and ending with a smile, so I didn’t sound like I was whining.

Karla took one hand off the wheel, and gave my arm a gentle squeeze, and said, “Your marriage gave you two charming, charismatic young stepdaughters, oozing with panache, who love you to pieces. So it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

I reached over and gave Karla’s arm a squeeze back, and I said, “When you put it that way, I did have pretty successful marriage, didn’t I?”

Karla and I arrived home, and we went inside to the family room, where I wasted no time in taking off my tie and jacket. As I stood there, Karla casually put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself while she took off one high heel shoe, then the other, and placed them together beside the couch. I looked around the room, thinking it was too early to go to bed, and Karla said, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said, and Karla flicked on the TV with the remote, and she added, “Let’s watch the late movie. I’ll find a foreign one with subtitles, so we can laugh at it, even if it’s not a comedy. I’m not tired, are you?” I shook my head and sat on the end of the three-seater couch, near the right arm.

A few minutes later, Karla came back in from the kitchen, with two mugs of coffee, and set them down on the coffee table. I saw that she had taken off her stockings, but was still wearing that pretty purple dress, along with her earrings and necklace. She really looked beautiful.

Karla and I were very close, and it was not unusual for her to sit right next to me, or to lean against me, even when there was plenty of room on the couch. It was a habit she started as a small child, and had never really grown out of. She sat next to me on the couch, on my left side, and as she so often did, she sat right up against me. I felt the warmth from her girlish, young body through that thin material of her dress for a moment, and then I remembered what had happened on the dance floor, so I shrank back slightly.

Karla responded by shuffling her bottom a little, to get closer to me, still looking at the TV screen, and once more, I shrank back a little, as I thought about how ashamed I felt when I got hard at the touch of her body, while we waltzed. Karla turned,smiling, and said, “What?”

“What do you mean?” I said, looking at her.

“You keep shuffling away,” Karla said, “like I’ve got the plague or something.”

“No, I’m not,” I lied.

Then, a look of realisation came over Karla’s face, and she said, “Oh, I know what it is. On the dance floor tonight. You’re worried it might happen again.”

I looked down, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know what was going on,” I mumbled.

“Allan,” Karla said, waiting till I looked up, “That’s just natural. You were holding onto a girl, and, you know, things just happened.” Then, she added, “When it stops happening, that’s when you can start worrying.” Her smile was a mixture of sweetness and irony.

“Let’s not talk about it, okay,” I said, trying to get away from the subject. Karla shuffled towards me, smiling mischievously, but I was now up against the right arm of the couch, with nowhere to go. I shrank back as far as I could, but she turned on her bottom as she sat next to me, put her feet up on the other end, and lay down on my lap, so her head was now resting on the right arm of the couch. “See?” she said, smiling up at me, “You can’t get away.”

“Come on,” I said, “Now, you’re being silly.”

“You’re the one being silly,” Karla said, still lying across my lap, “carrying on over nothing. So what, you got a horn. Big deal. Guys get ‘em all the time.” She reached up with her right hand, and touched the left side of my chin, and said, “Actually, it’s a bit of a compliment.”

“Hey!” I said, gently placing her hand back on her belly with my left hand, “Let’s not go there.”

“Tell me honestly,” Karla said, her voice softer but more serious now, “Have you ever looked at me or Krystal, and thought about it.”

“No,” I said, seriously.

“We’re not related, really,” Karla persisted.

“You’re my stepdaughters,” I said.

“Okay,” Karla went on, “But if you forget all about the stepdaughter thing for a moment, and just look at me. Tell me honestly, do you find me attractive?”

“Of course, you’re attractive,” I answered.

“No,” Karla answered, emphatically, “you’re not answering the question. Do you find me attractive?”

“Karla, you’re my child,” I said, and I could hear the exasperation in my own voice.

“I was your child,” Karla said, “and you’ve given me a great life and I’m really happy, but I’m not a child any more. I’m eighteen. That makes me an adult.” Her tone changed a little, and she added, “We’re both adults. So, I’m just asking you a question. Do you find me attractive?”

“You have to stop this,” I said, keeping it serious, “it’s not right.”

“I’m just asking,” Karla went on, undeterred, “Say you never knew me. Say you saw me walking down the street. I’m an eighteen year old girl, and you’ve never seen me before. You never had a stepdaughter, and you’ve never seen me before, okay.”

I looked at Karla, and I could see this seemed to be important to her, so I said, “Hop up.” She looked at me, questioningly, and I said, “Hop up, and stand in front of me. So I can look at you.” Karla stood up, a little hesitantly, as though she thought I was trying to trick her, and she stood in front of me. She smiled, as she realised what I was doing. “If I saw you,” I started, looking her up and down, “and I didn’t know you, had never seen you before, and you were just a random eighteen year old girl, I’d think, ‘Yeah, I like that. That’s real nice. I like the look of that.” I tried to sound like a guy reducing a girl to a sex object.

“Would you sleep with me, though?” Karla asked, getting straight to the point.

“Come on, that’s not fair,” I smiled up at her.

“Okay,” Karla went on, “You’re a guy and I’m a random, eighteen year old girl, and you see me in the street. What is it about me that you like the look of?”

I realised that I was beginning to enjoy this little game, and I got off the couch, and said, “I’ll stand up, so I get a better perspective.” I took a couple of paces back, and I said, “Okay, am I still forty-one?”

Karla was standing there, for my appraisal, smirking at me, and she said, “Yeah, you’re a forty-one year old guy, and you’ve never seen me before, and I’m a random eighteen year old girl. Tell me what it is about me that you like the look of.” Then, she added, “As a man. Tell me what thoughts go through your head.”

I looked at Karla again, standing there, in that purple dress, dolled up from the reception, but without any shoes, and I tried to think of her as a random girl I didn’t know. “Okay,” I started, “I’d think, ‘She’s tall, I like that. Pretty face, and those deep brown eyes don’t hurt one bit. Cute mouth, too. Just a hint of a pout. I think I’d like to kiss that mouth.” Karla smiled at me, and tilted her head, as though she wanted me to continue.

I had a look at Karla’s shape, and went on with, “Nice curves, not exactly hourglass figure, but you can tell she’s a girl all right. No problems there at all.” I pursed my lips, having a better look, and said, “I’ve seen bigger boobs in my time,” and Karla looked down at hers, and I continued with, “but they are perky, gotta give ‘em that.” She smiled up at me. “Turn around,” I said, motioning with my hand, and Karla turned for me, and I said, “Hmmm, nice arse, I like that arse. And those legs, they’ll do me anytime. Pret-ty impressive little package, I’d say.”

Karla turned to face me, and said, “So, Allan, after all that, if I was a random girl, and you didn’t know me,” and she paused, stepping closer, “would you want to have sex with me?”

“I don’t have sex with random girls,” I said, grinning at her.

“You know what I mean,” Karla said, giving her head a shake.

“Why is this so important to you?’ I asked.

“Because tonight, your body said something that you won’t say yourself,” Karla said, and I was surprised at how serious she sounded.

“Karla, that was hormones. You know that,” I said, trying to keep it gentle. I loved this girl, this woman, this person who had been part of my life for fourteen years. “Hormones don’t have morals,” I went on, “and hormones don’t drive six year old girls to school one day, and then watch them grow up to be beautiful young women the next. They don’t know anything about right and wrong, they just do what they do.”

“Okay,” I get it, Karla smiled, “I’m a teenager. I know all about hormones. But, just one last thing.” She seemed to pause for effect, and said, “I want you to kiss me.”

“I’ve kissed you forty-seven thousand times, Karla,” I said, but inside, I knew what she meant. I wasn’t stupid.

“One kiss,” she said, “One kiss, like a man kisses a woman, just so I can see what it’s like with you.”

“Come on,” I said, “we can’t do this.” Inside, I realised that if I kissed her, I’d like it, and I’d probably be talked into going further. I knew it.

Karla turned to the coffee table, where there was a pile of small change in an ashtray. She picked up a twenty-cent coin, and said, “I’ll toss you for it. Heads, you kiss me, properly. Tails, I’ll forget about it.” Then, she smiled, and said, “But either way, I’m gonna go to bed tonight, and fantasise that we had sex. That’s one thing you can’t control.”

“And I’ll go to bed and fantasise that we tried and I couldn’t get it up,” I said, grinning at her, “So there.”

“Too bad we both know that’s a bullshit fantasy,” Karla answered back, grinning mischievously, “because I could have squashed a cockroach on that thing you wheeled out on the dance floor.” We both laughed.

“Toss the coin,” I said, in defeat, after we finished laughing. Maybe it was wrong of me, but I have to admit, in those deep recesses of my mind, I was kind of hoping for a “Heads” result. Maybe putting it in the hands of Fate, in the form of a silver coin with a platypus on it, was my way of absolving myself of responsibility.

Karla flipped the coin and it went up in the air, spinning over and over, then down, to hit the carpet, rolling along on its edge, stopping, and falling flat. I felt butterflies, as I stepped forward to see it, lying heads up. Karla looked at me, tilting her head, as if she was wondering if I’d back out now. I looked at the window, and it occurred to me that, outside my house, there was a whole world full of people who would condemn me for what I was about to do. I felt a wave of excitement as I realised that, yes, I was going to kiss Karla, the way a man kisses a woman.

“One kiss,” Karla said, “A proper kiss, so I know what it would be like with you.”

I swallowed, and I stepped closer, and I took Karla in my arms, holding her warm, pretty, girlish, stylishly dressed, sweet-smelling body close to me, with my arms around her shoulders, and I moistened my lips a little, and I kissed her on the mouth. I kissed her soft, sweet mouth gently, lovingly, holding the kiss, feeling the excitement, as she kissed me back, just slightly open-mouthed, but without any tongue. This was too early for tongue. It was a sweet, sexy and warm kiss, and I held it for as long as I thought proper, and then we broke it mutually. I held her gaze, with our faces close, for a moment, and Karla whispered, “At least I know now.” We let go of each other, and Karla said, “Part of me wishes I was a random girl, and we could take that further, but most of me is glad we’re the people we are. I’m glad you showed me, anyway, Allan.”

“I think it’s time for bed,” I sighed. Karla nodded, and she said, “Allan, I love you in all kinds of ways.” She kissed me again, this time on the cheek, as she had done so many times before, and we went to our own bedrooms. I stripped off, put on my pyjamas, and got into my queen-sized bed, where I lay in the dark, thinking over what had just gone on. I realised I had been tempted, but I hadn’t given in, I told myself. After a while, I heard Karla’s footsteps on the carpet in the hall outside my room, and although the door was open, she knocked, as she usually did. “What’s up?” I asked into the dark.

Karla walked in, and I flicked on my bedside light. She was wearing a pale pink, satin nightdress, that was fairly short, and she came over and lay on the other side of my bed, on top of the covers. This was something she’d done a hundred times over the years, coming in, lying there for a talk, before retiring to her own bedroom, and if not for what had happened earlier, it wouldn’t have been significant at all. “I just wanted to talk,” she said.

“What about?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.

“About tonight,” she said, quietly.

“I think we said just about everything,” I answered, also speaking quietly.

“I thought about trying to seduce you tonight, Allan,” she said, looking up at the ceiling, then at me.

“And I thought about letting you, if it makes you feel any better,” I said, “but I’d be taking advantage of you if I did. I can’t do that.”

“What if we were taking advantage of each other?” she asked.

“I’m not sure if that’s possible,” I said. It was the best answer I could come up with.

“Allan,” Karla asked, getting my attention, making me look at her, “Do you want to make love to me?” She swallowed.

“I’ve tried to give you honest answers all your life,” I said, “and I owe you an honest answer now.” I sighed, and said, “Yes, I do. Any man would, but that doesn’t mean we can. If we do that, nothing will be the same again.”

Karla turned onto her left side, to face me, and she said, “You and I have got a pretty good relationship. I don’t think anything could ruin it.” She reached over, and put her right palm on my chest, and said, “I want to make love with you, Allan.”

I’m only human. A beautiful girl was lying on my bed, asking me to make love with her. Yes, it was Karla, yes she was the girl I had driven to school as a six-year-old, and yes, I had watched her growing up as my stepdaughter, but an hour before, she had asked me to stand there and look at her as a woman, to spell out to her the things I saw about her that were attractive to me as a man, and yes, I should have disengaged myself from the game, but I didn’t. I had reached this point by my own actions. “I want to make love to you, too,” I said, feeling like I was in a dream.

“So I guess, neither of us is to blame, then,” Karla said, as she moved closer to me. As she moved, her nightdress rode up a little, revealing her pink lace panties, and I reached out from under the covers, to pull her nightdress down with my right hand, covering them. Karla looked down at what I had done, then back at me, and she said, “You’re very caring.” She smiled, and moved in, to kiss me gently on the mouth. The kiss was warm, soft and very exciting, so when Karla broke it, I pulled her to me and returned her kiss, holding it until I was ready to break it. As our mouths parted, she took a breath, and said, “Should I get under the covers?”

“If we’re gonna do this properly, I think you’ll need to,” I said, and Karla slid off the bed, and then climbed under the covers. She snuggled up to me as I lay on my back, and then turned, so her right thigh was across my pelvis, and she gave me another brief, but sweet and soft kiss. My tool had already responded to the intimacy, and we both felt it pushing against her right hip. “Your body’s talking to me again,” Karla said, with a little smile, “but this time, I think the conversation might be more interesting.”

I reached down and adjusted my rigid dick, so it wasn’t poking Karla’s hip, and I said, “We’ll get back to that later. I’d like to spend a little time on this,” as I moved my arms around her, to embrace her slender body and hold her closer.

“You mean you don’t want to get straight in and do it?” Karla asked, with our faces close.

“Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?” I asked, gently kissing her again.

Karla swallowed, and said, “The only guy I’ve ever done it with is Anthony, and he thinks foreplay means taking a girl’s pants off.” Her face was close enough for me to feel her warm breath.

I could feel a very slight smile on my face, as I said, “Karla, that’s ‘having sex.’ I thought you said you wanted to make love.”

“You’re gonna show me the difference aren’t you?” she smiled back.

“I’ll try,” I said, as I gently turned her onto her back, so I was now lying on my right side, with my arms around her. I kissed her sweet little mouth again, and our tongues ventured forth to tentatively greet each other, as I felt the excitement rising inside me. I broke the kiss, and sat back a little, placing my right forearm under Karla’s neck, as she lay on her pillow, and I lifted the covers back from her with my left hand. She looked down at herself, in her pink nightdress, and then back up at me. I could see her nipples through the satin of her nightdress, and I said, “You don’t wear a bra to bed, do you?”

“I think I can get away without one a lot of the time,” she replied, and I reached over with my left hand and gently stroked her right breast. “That’s nice,” she said. I took her nipple. through the material, between my thumb and forefinger, and fondled it gently, feeling it grow harder at my touch. Karla bit her lower lip, and smiled at me, saying, “Your touch is very gentle, Allan, but I’ve always known that. Tonight’s a little different, though.”

I moved my left hand down to the hem of her nightdress, lifting it a little, and I said, “May I?

“I think you better,” Karla said. Her voice was little more than a whisper, and she gently stroked the back of my left hand with her right hand for a moment, and then took it away. I reached up under her nightdress, to find her right breast, and I fondled her nipple between my thumb and finger again, and Karla shuddered first, then she swallowed. “That’s kind of tickly, but nice,” she said, and with a sweet smile, she added, “I think you should kiss me while you’re doing it, though.”

I leaned down to kiss her mouth again, feeling her soft, warm lips, tasting the sweetness, basking in the warmth that seemed to flow through me, inhaling her breath, as it seemed to fan the excitement that was welling up inside me. When I broke the kiss, Karla had her eyes shut. She opened them and looked into mine, and said, “You kiss beautifully.”

“I was actually thinking the same thing about you,” I said, looking at her mouth as I said it. I was still fondling her right breast, under the material, and Karla looked down at what I was doing, and said, “If I took my nightie off, you could see what you’re up to.”

“Smart thinking,” I said, and my excitement momentarily went off the scale at the thought of Karla being naked in front of me. Karla reached down, and lifted the hem of her nightdress, lifting her bottom at the same time, and she pulled it up, exposing her pink lace panties. She lifted her shoulders from the bed, and then pulled the nightie over them, and dropped it on the floor to her right. She was now lying in my bed, with just her lace panties on, and I sat back to look at her, taking in the sight before me for a moment. Looking at Karla like that almost took my breath away.

“I’ve known you a long time,” Karla said, softly, “and the look in your eyes tells me you like what you see.”

“Very much,” I said, almost whispering, my tone almost reverent. Karla took my left hand, and placed it gently on her belly, just below her navel, and whispered, “We’re not here to look at each other, Allan.”

“You’re just so beautiful to look at, Karla,” I said, still looking at her body, from the neck down, those small but perfect tits, their nipples a dark shade of pink, the smooth, flat belly, and the way her panties were following the contours of her pubic mound. I leant down now, to kiss her left breast, and holding the kiss, I took the nipple between my lips, and gently tickled it with my tongue. Karla flinched again, and she took a quick, sharp breath, as I relaxed my tongue, to taste the flesh of her nipple. I felt Karla’s arms around me, as she hugged me to herself, while I kissed and tasted her breast, and after I released her nipple from my lips, I moved up again, to kiss her mouth.

The kiss was oh-so exciting, even after what we had done so far, and as Karla relaxed her arms, I sat back a little. She reached up with her right hand, and gently touched my lips with the first finger, then put her finger to her own lips. I decided it was time to move ahead, and I reached down with my left hand, to gently fondle her pussy through the crotch of her panties for a moment, looking at her face for her reaction as I did so.

Karla gave me a very meaningful look, and said, “Allen?”

“Yes,” I said, quietly.

“Do you like, umm,” swallowing, pausing, “going down on girls?” she asked, hesitantly.

I nodded slowly, smiled, and said, “Of course I do,” although the opportunity had not presented itself for a while.

“Do you think,” she said, pausing to bite her lower lip, “umm, you’d like to go down on me?”

“Would you like me to?” I asked, answering one question with another.

“No-one’s ever done it,” she said, “but what you were doing to my boobie with your mouth was kinda special, and I thought maybe it’d be kinda special in other places, too.” Her voice was so sweet.

“Have you ever tried it?” I asked, unable to keep the smile from my face.

“Well, Anthony wouldn’t do it,” she said, “He reckoned girls were kind of, umm, messy, down there, and, um, he wouldn’t do it. He, umm, got me to do it to him,” pausing, biting that lower lip again, swallowing, “but he wouldn’t do it for me.”

“That was pretty selfish,” I said, as I placed my left hand onto Karla’s pussy, so the thumb was on her mound, while the fingers draped down along her crotch. I fondled her gently with my fingers, feeling for her slit from the outside of her panties, looking her in the eyes, and I said, “You’re asking me to kiss you down there, aren’t you?” and she nodded, but didn’t speak.

“Where?” I asked, still meeting her gaze, “Take my hand, and show me where you want me to kiss you.” I love oral sex, but in the circumstance, I wanted to tease Karla a little, and build up to it, before I allowed myself to taste her in those secret places, that as a stepfather, I had only ever known to be off-limits.

“The exact place?” she asked. I nodded.

Karla reached down with her right hand, and took my left hand in it. She used her own left hand to lift the front of her panties, and she placed my hand inside, where I felt first her soft pubic hair, and the warmth and wetness of her pussy, as she moved my hand to it. “The exact place,” I repeated.

I felt Karla’s fingers separating mine, finding my first two, and then guiding them in between her inner lips, where it was warm and moist, and she placed them about where I imagined her clit would be. I kind of expected she would want to be kissed there, and I said, “There?” Karla was looking down at herself, down where her hand was guiding mine to that very special place on her body, and she was already breathing a little more heavily than before. “Right there,” she said, softly.

I gently probed my finger down between her slippery inner lips, and I took it from her panties, and tasted the sweetish, tangy juice on it, slowly, deliberately, looking at her face, as she studied my own actions, and I said, “I think I’m going to enjoy this.” I gently began to remove Karla’s panties, and she lifted her bottom to help me. I slid them down her long, slender, but shapely legs, and dropped them on the floor, and I looked down at her exposed pussy, and then at her face.

“You okay?” I asked. As excited as I was at the thought of tasting and exploring this part of Karla’s body, I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and I added, “With me, doing this? It’s a very intimate thing.”

“I trust you more than any other person in the world,” she answered, lying there, “I’m kinda glad you’re the first person to do this.” I looked back at Karla’s exposed pussy again. Her pubic hair was natural, but it seemed to grow in a heart-shaped patch, dark and curly, and I ran the fingers of my right hand through it, feeling its softness, and then gently stroking down the hood of her clit with my thumb, twice.

The lips of her pussy were just a little swollen, a little moist, but showing she still had a little way to go before her arousal was complete. I leant down, conscious of the fact that no man had ever tasted this part of Karla’s body, and that fate had accorded to me the privilege of being the first man to explore this beautiful thing with my mouth, lips and tongue. I started by gently inhaling the scent of Karla’s young pussy, wafting it back into my nostrils, letting the arousal it triggered, as designed by nature, permeate my consciousness. Then, I kissed Karla, very gently, on the beautifully soft, smooth skin of her right inner thigh.

I drew back, made eye contact with Karla, and then I kissed her gently, just below her clitoris, feeling the sticky moisture of her inner labia on my own lips as I drew back again. “Just there, wasn’t it?” I asked, looking back at her, “That’s where you wanted me to kiss you, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the place,” she answered, taking a deep breath, “Right where I showed you.” Karla sighed, and I kissed her again, in the same place, pausing to inhale her sexy scent, and then I turned my head sideways, and parted her inner lips with my tongue, then ran it down towards her opening, savouring the taste of her pussy, as every breath I took, sweetened with her intimate aroma, fuelled my arousal further. I already felt an intense need to have this beautiful young woman, to satisfy my needs, and yes, my lust, with her, but I wanted to take my time over attending to her precious pussy with my mouth. I teased gently at her opening with the very tip of my tongue, feeling her body shudder, and then I probed a little further, tasting the inner walls, experiencing the flavour of her womanhood, and then running my tongue back up towards her clit again.

Karla’s pussy seemed noticeably wetter as my tongue made its way back along her slit, and she flinched when the right side brushed her clitoris. I was out of practice with oral lovemaking, but I was hoping to bring Karla to orgasm by going down on her, before moving on to the main event.

I changed my position just slightly, so I could tease at her clit with my tongue, and Karla opened her legs a little more, to give me more room to work. Her right hand was gently caressing the back of my head, but apart from the occasional sigh, or a sharp intake of breath, she had not spoken since she let me know I had kissed her right where she had asked me to.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Karla said, speaking softly, “That feels lovely. I could let you do it all night.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, drawing my face back from her pussy, inhaling the scent again, and sitting back. I wanted to make her come by going down her, so I said, “Just turn yourself sideways on the bed,” and she looked at my face, and began to move around as I asked. “Grab your pillow,” I said, and lie with your bottom near the edge of the bed.” Karla moved around, so she was lying across my bed, with her bottom and her pussy near the edge, with her legs bent, and her heels on the edge as well. She put her pillow under her head, and said, “Like this?”

I nodded, and said, “That’s the way,” and I hopped down to kneel on the right side of my bed, with my head between Karla’s legs. Her pussy was now open and exposed to me, glistening with her fluids, and I moved in to kiss her in the centre of her patch of pubic hair, feeling a renewed wave of excitement as I inhaled the scent, andTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.