Part One
My name is Wayne Conrad. In the summer of 1987, I was 23 years old. I had been working for a truck-dispatching company for three years doing—what else?—dispatching trucks.
I liked my direct supervisor with whom I shared an office. His name was Sam Cooper. We both followed sports closely, enjoyed board games, and had the same wry sense of humor. Unfortunately for me, Sam was approaching retirement age. When July ended, Sam was done. I was going to miss him greatly.
His replacement was a friend of the company’s owner. His name was Franklin Romano. He was about twice my age. He was a pleasant enough fellow, but he was the most forgetful person I had ever met in my life. Franklin would frequently misplace documents, keys, pens, the office’s calculator, every possible personal belonging, and completely forget about appointments, both trivial and important. When Sam was sitting at the desk across from me, he had a mind like a steel trap. In contrast, Franklin had trouble remembering if he had eaten lunch or not. It mattered little because he often forgot to pack a lunch in the first place.
One Wednesday at lunchtime when Franklin miraculously remembered to bring a roast beef sandwich, carrot sticks, and a can of cola for a noontime meal, he saw me with a miniature chess board set up at my desk. I was attempting to solve the daily puzzle that appeared in the local newspaper. I often did that during my lunch hour to pass the time and exercise my mind.
“I don’t understand anything about it, but I’ve always wanted to learn how to play that game,” Franklin informed me. “Is it difficult to learn, Wayne?”
“I learned how to play when I was eight,” I told him. “My father taught me the game. I caught on very quickly to how the individual pieces move and the general strategy of the game, but not everyone does.”
“Would you be willing to teach me?” Franklin asked me optimistically.
“Sure, but this is not the best place to do that,” I opined. “It’s too noisy and too hectic here, and we can be interrupted quite a bit.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Franklin agreed. “Hey, I’m not doing much this Saturday. My wife is going on a shopping spree to the big city. Neither one of us works weekends, Wayne. Why don’t you come to my place and give me some basic chess lessons? I’ll barbecue us some steaks. A steak dinner with all the trimmings will be my payment to you for teaching me how to play chess! Do we have a deal?”
I wasn’t going to refuse a steak dinner, so I agreed to that arrangement. Franklin gave me his address, which I wrote in a small notepad that I always carried in my shirt pocket. His house was located on the other side of the city from my residence. Franklin told me to time my arrival for about 3 o’clock. I wrote down that important tidbit, too. He wanted a two-hour chess lesson and then he’d barbecue our steaks at 5 o’clock..
Then he added one more thing: “Don’t bother to knock on any of the doors,” Franklin instructed me. “I’ll likely be in the backyard at that time of day. Just open the high wooden gate at the end of the driveway and let yourself into my backyard. I’ll be waiting for you at the picnic table. You’ll have to bring a chess set, though; I don’t own one.”
From past experience, I should have been concerned that Franklin hadn’t written down any of these grand plans of his.
Part Two
When Saturday came, I arranged my errands so that I could get them all done by 2:30 p.m., which gave me time to travel to Franklin’s home and arrive by 3 o’clock. I was unfamiliar with this neighborhood, but I found the address using a local map without too much trouble. Franklin had a long driveway that could easily accommodate three vehicles. His car, the one he drove to work each day, was the only one there when I arrived. I parked behind him. Following the instructions I had received on Wednesday—and reconfirmed with Franklin on Friday—I walked to the gate that separated Franklin’s driveway from his backyard. I had in my left arm my old chess set on which my father taught me the basics. I didn’t say a word; I just flipped the latch, opened the gate, and walked right in.
Boy, did I get an eyeful!
There was Franklin, without a stitch of clothing, busily screwing a busty teenage girl who was also naked. The carnal action was taking place on the backyard’s porch on what looked like a blue tumbling mat, the kind that one might see in an elementary school’s gymnasium. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves tremendously. I sheepishly said hello. I had interrupted Franklin at the worst possible time: Not only was he engaged in sex, he had just pulled out of the young lady’s vagina and was coming on her tits when I made my presence known.
“Oh, shit!” Franklin declared with a degree of horror. “This is my chess lesson day with you Wayne, isn’t it? It completely slipped my mind!”
In the four weeks I had known him, that was at least the twentieth time I had heard him admit that something had completely slipped his mind.
Meanwhile, the girl seemed oblivious to my obvious unexpected presence in the backyard. She just giggled and wiped Franklin’s jism ropes off her prominent chest with a roll of paper towels. I could tell she had done that before. I couldn’t help but notice that her tits were quite lovely; she had one of the nicest racks I had ever seen. Furthermore, she looked to be about 17 years old, perhaps 18 at the oldest. I couldn’t blame Franklin for having an extramarital fling with this cute blonde until he said with a shameful tone in his voice, “Wayne, this is my stepdaughter. Her name is Abigail. She’s 18.”
I honestly didn’t know what to do. Still clutching my beloved, old chess board—which I knew was unlikely to be used this day—I promptly sat at the picnic table. I saw no evidence that my co-worker had done any preparation for my promised steak dinner.
“I suppose I should explain,” Franklin said.
I told him that would be a splendid idea.
“Wayne, I was a confirmed bachelor until about seven years ago. That was when I married Deanna. She’s Abigail’s mother. Deanna was a divorcée. Abigail is the only child from her first marriage. She was 11 when I became her stepfather.”
Franklin then took me aside so what he said could not be heard by Abigail. “My stepdaughter is beautiful but mentally deficient. She’s 18 now, but she has the mind of a six-year-old, maybe a seven-year-old on a good day. As you can plainly see, Abigail has the body and the sex drive of a slutty 25-year-old.”
I was starting to see the whole picture. It wasn’t a pretty one.
Franklin continued his tale. “I discovered early on that Abigail has no idea about decorum, social norms, and what is or isn’t good behavior in public. When she was 11, on hot days she’d walk around the neighborhood topless. Abigail was already pubescent by then, so the local boys always enjoyed her appearances.
“At school she was always getting into trouble for doing sexual things with classmates. A janitor tried to fuck her one afternoon, but he was caught and fired. To Abigail, sex is just an everyday form of pleasure, the same as enjoying a bar of chocolate or an ice cream sundae. She sees nothing at all wrong with screwing some 15-year-old boy at her school whom she barely knows.
“Abigail became pregnant at 12. It’s anybody’s guess who the father was. She had a miscarriage. I hate to say it, but mercifully Abigail can never have children. That certainly hasn’t hindered her sex drive one iota, though. She constantly wants sex. One night when I was babysitting when Deanna was playing bridge, Abigail paraded in front of me naked. I could only take so much teasing, so I eventually caved in and bedded her. She enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. We’ve been having regular sex since then. Of course, her mom knows nothing about it—and I intend to keep it that way.”
It was tough to take in all that information at once. I had to admit that it would be easy for someone to take advantage of such a situation. It just struck me as creepy that a close family member would be involved in such a thing.
“Will you keep our little secret, Wayne?” he asked me pleadingly. “My life would be pretty much over if news of what Abigail and I have been doing for the past seven years gets to the authorities or to Deanna—or both.”
I hadn’t said a word—I frankly did not know what to say—when Franklin proffered a solution. He said, “Wayne...what do you think of this? I’ll let you fuck Abigail right now if you don’t say anything about my secret to anyone.”
It was a tempting offer, but to me it sounded like Franklin was pimping his mentally deficient stepdaughter—and I said so.
“What if Abigail agrees to it?” Franklin argued. “She almost certainly will. She likes any guy who has a stiff dick to shove in her pussy.”
“Well, in that case...” I relented.
“Let me ask her right now,” Franklin insisted. He approached Abigail who was still in the process of tidying herself from Franklin’s cum shot. “Abigail, honey. This is a co-worker of mine. His name is Wayne. He’s a nice young fellow, for sure. Guess what? He likes to have sex, just like you do! He came to our house today to visit with me, but when he walked into the backyard and saw the two of us fucking, he said, ‘That girl is very pretty. I want to fuck her, too, if she’ll let me.’ So, Abigail, would you like to have sex with Wayne?”
“Yeah!” Abigail said enthusiastically. "We can do boom-boom on the blue mat just like the two of us do in the nice, warm, summertime weather, Stepdaddy!”
“Boom-boom?” I said curiously.
“That’s the childish slang term Abigail uses for sexual intercourse,” Franklin explained. “She has plenty of them, but let’s get back to my offer. You heard her loud and clear, Wayne. Abigail is totally in favor of having sex with you. I’m not pimping her at all. It’s her choice entirely to give you a fuck. Believe me, she’s good at it. That I can guarantee.”
I was very philosophical about the turn of events. I said to Franklin, “I enjoy sex as much as the next guy. I guess a bit of boom-boom with Abigail will make up for the steak dinner with all the trimmings that I’m not going to get tonight.”
Part Three
Franklin insisted on staying in the backyard to watch me copulate with his sexy stepdaughter, in his words, “to keep things from getting out of hand.” That was rich coming from a man who had probably fucked her a few hundred times in the past seven years!
I helped Abigail sponge herself off with warm water so no physical remnants of her dalliance with Franklin remained visible. She liked that I was gently helping her get the “goop” off her sexy, 18-year-old body.
I reintroduced myself to Abigail, which was unnecessary. “Yes, I know who you are. You are Wayne and you work at the same place where my stepdad does. Am I right? You like to fuck as much as I do. But I call it boom-boom. It sounds nicer that way, don’t you think?”
I laughed and agreed with her. “Yes, ‘boom-boom’ sounds a lot nicer than the word ‘fuck.’ I’ll call it boom-boom from now on, Abigail. Can we start doing boom-boom right now? I’d like that!”
“Sure!” she replied. “But you have to take your clothes off. You should know that, Wayne. Everyone knows you have to undress to do boom-boom. I’m already undressed, but you can see that.”
“I certainly do!” I said. “And you are very beautiful, Abigail, especially when you don’t have any clothes on.“
Abigail smiled sweetly at my remark. She did have a pretty face to go along with a superb figure for a girl her age. Her hairstyle of blonde pigtails made Abigail look facially like a 10-year-old. Sitting on the blue mat, Abigail seemed to be getting impatient with me as I slowly peeled off my clothes and made a neat pile of them on the grass beside the barbecue that was supposed to be cooking my steak. I was sporting wood as I walked the few steps to join Abigail.
“Finally!” she said. “I was waiting for you, Wayne. Most boys get undressed quicker than that when they know they will be doing boom-boom with me.”
“I don’t doubt that at all!” I said. “I just like to be neat and tidy with my clothing, Abigail.”
“It’s okay. I forgive you, Wayne!” I observed that Abigail’s moods could change very quickly.
“Let me make it up to you for keeping you waiting. That was rude of me. I’ll lick your pussy. Abigail, do you like it when a boy does that to you?”
“Yay!” she squealed. “That’s one of my favorite sex things when a boy licks my kitty-cat all over. It feels so good. I get a tingly feeling down there.”
Abigail laid flat on her back and spread her legs. Her pussy was hairy for her age, but it was still magnificent. I started licking and Abigail started laughing with delight. “Oh, Wayne, you do that so nicely. I already like doing sex things with you. I bet you are good at boom-boom, too.”
I was getting into the spirit of things now. I used my thumbs to pry open Abigail’s vagina so I could please her with my tongue. This may have been a first for her. She got very wet in a hurry.
“Stepdad, look at Wayne lick my pussy,” she commanded. “He’s really good at it. I’m all wet. That means he’s good at sex, right?”
“Yes, honey. Wayne is good at sex if you got wet down there,” Franklin confirmed. “Why don’t you make Wayne feel just as good. You know how to do that, don’t you, Abigail?”
“Sucky-sucky!” Abigail shouted, probably loud enough for some of the neighbors to hear. “Okay. Wayne, let me suck on your pee-pee.”
I pulled my face away from Abigail’s pussy and presented my stiff pee-pee to her. She was remarkably good at fellatio. I told her so. “Abigail, you suck dick like a pro. You must have done this a lot to be so good at it. I might just come in your mouth!”
Abigail stopped sucking on my rod long enough to say, “Lots of boys come in my mouth. I don’t mind because they are having fun...and so am I.”
I let Abigail lick my penis four three or four minutes, then I decided it was better served elsewhere.
“I want to do boom-boom now, Abigail!” I told her with excitement in my voice. “Is your kitty-cat ready to take my hard pee-pee!” I discovered that describing sex as a six-year-old might was adding zest to this unexpected romp.
“Yay!” Abigail said. “Lie on top of me, Wayne, and do boom-boom!”
I mounted this cute, vapid creature and shoved my dick into her warm, wet pussy. Her crevice wasn’t exactly tight, but it was welcoming nevertheless. I pounded her with hard thrusts, stopping only occasionally to fondle and enjoy her beautiful boobs. She had nipples to die for. If I ever did fuck Abigail again, her terrific breasts definitely deserved more foreplay attention from me.
In my nether regions, I could feel the unmistakable tingling of an ejaculation mounting. From what Franklin had told me, I knew there was zero risk of my impregnating this girl, so I could have shot a huge load into her pussy. However, I wanted to put on a show. I knew my impending cum shot would be a big one and I wanted Abigail to see it for herself. I hoped to impress her.
Abigail continued to enjoy the ride and cheer me on. It was an odd but fun experience listening to her childish commentary. “That’s really good boom-boom Wayne!” she declared. “Keep it coming. Harder. Faster. My kitty-cat likes your pee-pee so much.”
I pulled out and said, “My pee-pee likes you this much!” I ejaculated strongly and sprayed my cum widely. Droplets and ropes of semen flew all over Abigail’s fabulous body, from her hair to her knees. One dollop was hanging sexily from the tip of her nose.”
“Good come, Wayne!” Abigail noted. “It’s so much goop at once. Can you lick my kitty-cat again while it’s still wet?”
“Your wish is my command!” I told her and quickly obliged. I was just happy I wasn’t doing this particular sex act to please Abigail after coming inside her snatch. I wouldn’t want to sample my own cum from any girl’s vagina. Ick!
I think I need to help you clean yourself up again, Abigail,” I told her. “You’ve been a busy girl today with two fucks.” I immediately started to wash my cum off her luscious breasts with the warm water and a sponge. I dried her tits thoroughly with the paper towels, and then my bare hands. I was more than glad to do it. At heart, I’m an altruistic guy.
Abigail felt compelled to correct me on a key stat. “I have had three fucks today,” she said. “And remember I call fucks 'boom-booms.' It sounds nicer. Even you said so. This last one was with you, Wayne. It was so much fun. Stepdad came on me twice before you arrived. You only saw the second one. His first cum shot, right after we had lunch, was almost as big as yours. He aimed it at my face. I like that. I like the surprise feeling when it hits me when I’m not expecting it. Stepdad is very good at boom-boom, too.”
Franklin had an embarrassed look on his face. “This stepdaughter of mine has no filter,” he noted. “She is good at keeping secrets, however.”
“I hope so!” I said. “Abigail is a terrific partner for boom-boom. I’ll be coming back for more. I figure if I’m wrong for fucking her once, I might as well make it a habit and fuck her as much as you do.”
I paused, then added, “By the way, Franklin, do you still want that chess lesson from me today?”