CHAPTER EIGHT
Lacey
I’m having an affair with my stepfather.
There, I said it.
Well, not my stepfather yet. Future stepfather.
But that doesn’t make it any better.
Because we’ve gone at it again and again, at a bar, my mom’s engagement lunch, the bridal shower, his office, and now, the bachelor party.
Why? Why, why, why is this happening?
But a better question might be, why do I like it so much?
I love it, when I’m being honest.
Because I love being with Jake. There’s something about the big man that calls to my soul. A look in those blue eyes. The way he’s alternately charming, and then dangerous as all get-out. He scares me even while sending delicious chills down my spine.
Maybe it’s just the situation.
Maybe I love playing with fire. Maybe I love thumbing my nose at my mom.
I don’t know, but what I do know is this. This situation is beyond my control and I don’t care anymore.
I can’t get enough of him. I need him now, with a certainty like the Ten Commandments, etched in stone.
I’m a part of the alpha male now, and he’s a part of me.
So what’s going to happen?
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared at the full length mirror. Did I look different? Was this girl wearing a college sweatshirt and pajama pants the same person who’d climbed onto Jake’s dick and begged him for it?
I blinked and the girl in the mirror blinked too.
Yep, that’s me.
But no way were she and I the same. Before, I was obedient. I went to the library. I hung out with my friends at boring places. I never went out. Well, hardly ever, and it was more to the ice cream parlor, and not strip clubs and bars.
But none of that mattered now since I was the one with the secrets.
I was the one doing incredibly nasty and wrong things, all behind closed doors.
Or not so closed, come to think of it. More like out in the open, if we’re completely honest.
A sob choked in my throat.
The Lacey from before would never be like this.
She would never be leading a double life, filled with lies.
And at that, a cry of helplessness escaped my throat, loud and anguished. Sometimes I missed that girl so much and all the simple times from before. Life used to be so easy and uncomplicated.
My head bowed with defeat, tears running down my cheeks
Because now, all I can think of is Jake.
Kissing him. Taking his monster cock into my behind, all the while begging for more.
Grinding myself onto him, clutching those massive shoulders.
Breathing his name as I come, pouring my soul into our kisses until the world explodes.
No.
It’s wrong.
So taboo and forbidden.
I jumped to my feet, and the tears nearly blinded me. I had to find that old Lacey again. I had to become her and save myself from this hell.
But the problem is, hell is so good.
The burn so sweet.
And even now, both my holes clenched at the thought of having him again.
Stop it! I told myself roughly. This was not the time to think about him like that.
Whirling madly, I grabbed my backpack and shoved my feet into my battered sneakers. The library had always been the place that the old Lacey found her peace of mind. I could become that girl again. I could, dammit!
Still choking back sobs, I ran from the dorm and headed across campus to the library. My footsteps were lonely and hollow on the darkened sidewalk, the giant stone building coming into view, looming and ominous.
On a Saturday night, I was just about the only person walking that way. Cars full of other students heading out into town blazed past me with the music blaring loud and fast, laughter ringing loudly from open windows.
Head down, I shoved my backpack over my shoulder and kept going.
Have fun, were my unbidden thoughts towards cars full of naive girls. I hope you don't meet a man who'll turn your world upside down and make you think you're crazy.
But I had to be honest.
You want him, my heart whispered. He’s the best thing that ever happened to you.
My mind rebelled then.
No! it screamed. He’s not! He’s your stepfather! You’re not in love.
And right then, my feet skidded to a halt. In the twilight, with cars zooming past, alone and confused, the realization came crashing down.
I was in love with Jake Mason. Totally, completely, head over heels in love with the alpha.
And the realization lifted my spirits. Because how bad can love be? Love is a blessing, the most wonderful thing in the world.
The clarity was a relief, my heart lifting.
I love him.
It’s wrong, but I love him anyways.
And I can’t stop.
More and more cars kept going past me, but I couldn’t feel jealous anymore. The thing I wanted wasn't in any car in town. It wasn’t anywhere, not really.
It was in my dreams.
A happy life with Jake, out in the open.
A relationship with my stepfather for all to see.
Yeah, right. My head dropped once more, an agonized cry bursting from my chest. Because it would never happen. The big man enjoyed being with me physically for sure, but not once had he offered to break up with my mom. Not once, in fact, had he offered any kind of way out, any kind of solution. In fact, the opposite.
The wedding was still on.
The ceremony was drawing close.
His ring was on Amanda’s finger still.
And I was stuck.
Sadness washed over my soul, bones limp with exhaustion.
But there was nothing to be done, except to try and find my old self.
So I hauled myself up the steps to the library. You can study, came the voice in my mind dully. You’ve always been able to lose yourself in words.
But this time, I knew that books wouldn’t be my reprieve. Not anymore. That was the old me, and those good times were over.
But I had to try. So at my favorite desk, I dropped my backpack on the floor next to my chair, and tried to read up about eighteenth century poets.
It was no use. The words swam before my eyes, blurring into tiny ants that wavered across the page. I’d read something and immediately forget it, my mind wandering to the alpha male once more.
Goddammit! The voice in my head screamed. Save yourself! Do something!
But I couldn’t. I was hopelessly in love, and the impossibility of the situation wrenched my soul.
So I packed up my books, head bowed, hands like zombies. At least there was one thing I could do still. Something for me and me only.
Because I have a dirty secret.
I’ve been saving Jake’s cum.
It’s wrong, it’s disgusting, it’s absolutely whorish.
But every time I’m with him, I come home filled with goopy white. It’s sticky, warm and reassuring, dripping from my bottom. And I’ve been saving it.
After that first time together, my hands moved like they were in dream, like they didn’t belong to me.
It was an out-of-body experience, watching myself take the glass bowl from the kitchen cabinet and then squatting over it to squeeze Jake's cum out of my ass.
Oh god, I’d almost orgasmed again, his hot white running down my thighs, a sticky trail dripping slowly into the innocent bowl.
But now, seven times we've had sex, and seven times I've milked my anus of his sperm.
Like I said, I’m a new person now. I don’t even recognize myself, it’s so wrong. I should be embarrassed.
But I’m not.
Because that glass bowl’s there, and now that I’ve lost everything, I want to do something with it.
I’m not sure what it’s gonna be.
But I’m gonna go home and look at it, contemplate the virile liquid beckoning to me from inside.
Because my mom and Jake are getting married this weekend, and maybe my lucky glass bowl is the last I’ll ever have of him. Maybe it’s my last reminder, my last token, my last taste, my last touch.
The realization made my chest clench, but my strides became faster, more determined on the sidewalk. Because yes, if that glass bowl of semen is all I’ll ever have of my stepfather going forwards, then I’m going to treasure it. This tiny bit, these virile remains of Jake’s masculinity are all mine … even if they have to last me the rest of my life.