Step Daughter Sex Stories

Step Daughter Sex Stories




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Step Daughter Sex Stories

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Though most of the excitement in a farmer’s life comes from the weather and markets, it sometimes happens that a farmer crosses paths with a belly dancer.
When I first started farming back in the late 1960s, one of my neighbors on the ditch lateral, a rough-cut man named Sam, had a daughter who became a belly dancer in Los Angeles. I first heard about this from the other neighbor on the lateral, and, considering the source, considered it teasing gossip.
Then one day a red GTO showed up in Sam’s driveway, and when Sam and I met up at the division weir on the lateral, I couldn’t resist asking about his daughter, the belly dancer. Sam immediately gave me a narrow look and made fists. He told me that yes, his daughter was a belly dancer, and yes, his daughter was visiting, and yes: if I set foot on his farm to try to see her, he would bury me in his cornfield.
Only 19 years old at the time, I was immensely flattered that Sam thought I, a scruffy young farmer, could possibly be a rival —yea, even a dalliance or distraction—for the affections of a big city belly dancer. But Sam did not make threats casually, so I leaned hard on my shovel and promised to stay away.
But fate intervened. On my way to town for parts the next day, I came upon the red GTO off the road, half way through a fence that held in a curious package of about fifty heifers. A woman sat in the GTO, her head draped on the steering wheel, crying. The steers, exercising their extrasensory fencehole perception, were filtering through the fence one by one, leaving a half section of lush grass so they could stand in the middle of the road and bellow their distress.
I pulled over, jumped out, and shoed the steers back into the pasture before leaning in to ask the driver of the GTO to back up so the fence could be patched back together. She looked up at me, a waterfall of black hair framing large green eyes, her make-up smeared from tears and her lips swollen from grief. She put her left hand on my wrist as she pointed with her right hand toward the radio antenna.
To my amazement, a red-winged blackbird had somehow become impaled on the tip of the GTO’s antenna, the point piercing between the bird’s wing and ribcage, making it flap vigorously in an effort to take flight. I put on a glove, then reached up from the bottom and nudged the poor creature up enough that it was able to fly a few feet before nosediving into the ground, which caused the woman to pound the steering wheel and scream. Only when she finally calmed down did she back up the car so the fence could be fixed.
That left the question of what to do about the bird, still flapping and hopping in an effort to fly away. I went to the bird, and seeing that its wing was broken, I picked it up. A reasonable solution would have been to put it out of its misery, but I wrapped it in a shop rag and asked the woman if she would prefer to take it to a vet, which, of course, she did.
Too shaken to drive, she pulled her GTO to a safe spot on the side of the road, and, coddling the bird, joined me in my pickup for a trip to the vet.
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I stayed at my sister’s house recently, as I have done many times when my husband works away from home.
However, on this particular night, she was called into work at the hospital at short notice.
I went to bed early but got up to go to the bathroom.
As I passed her bedroom, the door was ajar and I heard moaning from inside where my brother-in-law was supposed to be sleeping.
I saw him through the crack in the door and, for some reason that I cannot fathom, I took a deep breath, opened the door and stood there watching him pleasure himself.
He got even more excited so then I dropped my dressing gown and joined him in the bed. We had fantastic sex and never said a word to each other.
Since then nothing has been mentioned about this by either of us – it’s as if it never happened – but I can’t stop thinking about him.
This is weird for me as I have never been the sort of person to take matters into my own hands before or do anything impulsive.
I’m also 50 now and have been through the menopause, so what’s happening to me?
Maybe it’s connected to going through the menopause in your 40s. You might have wanted to prove that you’re still a sexual being and attractive to men. However, it’s just terribly sad that you’ve chosen your sister’s husband to live out this fantasy with.
You’re also married yourself, so you’ve cheated on your own hubby as well as betrayed your sister.
I think you know in your own heart that if you have any chance of having a relationship with your sister in the future that you a) can’t revisit it b) you can’t stay the night at hers again and c) you can’t tell her what happened.
What’s worrying is that you can’t stop thinking of him. I’m not condoning what either of you did, but sometimes ignorance is bliss. This might be one of those times, if you can guarantee it won’t happen again.
If you come clean, she’ll either dump her husband and your relationship will never be the same, or she’ll stay and cut you out. If you stay quiet, you have to live with it. Only you can decide.
The chances are if you did stay at your sister’s and she was called into work, it would happen again and become a regular thing.
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The Standard Group Plc is a multi-media organization with investments in media platforms spanning newspaper print
operations, television, radio broadcasting, digital and online services. The Standard Group is recognized as a
leading multi-media house in Kenya with a key influence in matters of national and international interest.



Standard Group Plc HQ Office,
The Standard Group Center,Mombasa Road.
P.O Box 30080-00100,Nairobi, Kenya.
Telephone number: 0203222111, 0719012111
Email: corporate@standardmedia.co.ke


Three years ago, I lost the man I loved the most in this world. We had been married for 23 years and sadly, he passed away after a prolonged illness. However, he left me with the most precious gift any mother could ever wish for, my daughter Whitney 17.
She is the closest person to me and I would do anything for her but recently, something happened that has left my heart shattered in pieces.
Early last year, I met the most loving and amazing man. He asked me out a couple of times and before I knew it, we started dating. The man is extremely wealthy and quite powerful at the same time. A few months later, he proposed to me and I agreed.
We got married at the end of the year and I was so happy that I was able to finally move on. My daughter and I moved into his mansion in Karen and it felt like the best moments of my life.
Whitney was already done with high school and thus, she was at home waiting to go to campus. Her step father took her to driving classes after buying her a posh car. She was very happy since she was been treated like a princess. She was given everything she asked for, they were close.
After few months of living with him, I started to notice a queer relationship between my husband and my daughter. They gave each other strange glances during dinner and very long hugs before going to bed. At first I just assumed it was the normal father- daughter relationship but later, I realized it was more than that.
 I came home one day to find my husband touching my daughter in a very romantic way. To say that I was shocked is an understatement. My daughter did not resist, in fact she was laughing in a manner that suggested she was enjoying it.
I tried to confront my husband and my daughter but they didn’t seem to care. Instead, my husband threatened that if I said anything he would take my daughter away and I would never see her again. My heart is broken into pieces that can never be mended.
They both sleep in the same room and there is nothing I can do about it. I love my daughter but what she has become makes me feel like a failure. I want to expose my husband but he is wealthy and powerful, and I am afraid that I would never see my daughter again. What should I do? 
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