The next day was a typical Saturday, as if nothing had happened the previous night. Was it me wrestling with the fact I had seen my father's wife finger-fucked on a dancefloor by another woman? It seemed I was. Dad told me they would stay overnight tonight and see me tomorrow morning for brunch. We watched sports in the afternoon. They left in their long coats to their ankles and a small overnight bag.

I went out to college to a party of sorts. I had a few beers and failed to get even a peck on the cheek from a girl. I realised I would be stuck in the apartment all next week with Dad away, so I played X-Box until very late. Brunch the following day was just like any other Sunday, and I went with Dad to the airport to drop him off and keep the car. He was in a bit of a state, worried about Sophie.

I noticed they were having a bit of a row over brunch. I walked back to let them work it out. Dad didn't say why they argued, but he asked me to be more flexible this week. He explained that Sophie wasn't sure I could keep her happy this week. Could I try harder and do what she asked, even if it sounded odd? He was worried about her and another guy, so if there was anything I could do to help the situation.

I didn't say anything, so he flustered around, not saying anything specific. He kept asking if I could go with it if Sophie asked me to do something. Even something I might think was not appropriate. He understood I had a good sense of right and wrong. So, I should be able to work it out. He finished by saying if I was in doubt, please do it. I should say no only if I felt it was over the limit. It should be obvious what to avoid.

When I got back, Sophie had prepared a late lunch, and we had a lovely evening, having a little workout and then watching TV. Dad would not call tonight as he was in transit, but would be ringing between six and seven due to the time difference the rest of the week. While we were relaxing, Sophie wanted to explain her behaviour and tell me her life story. Some I already knew, like her parents dying in a car crash in her first year of college.

Sophie explained that whilst this left her financially set up for life, it did create a bit of a hole emotionally. I also knew she had bought a small house in the city where she was at the same college I attended. She took in a couple of female lodgers, who paid all the bills and left a little money over. I didn't know that Chloe, Nina, and Rachel, whom I had met, roomed with her at different times in her life.

Sophie filled her parents' void with sex; an orgasm gave her temporary release, and she spent the next five years getting as many as possible. Boyfriends, multiple ones at the same time, and sharing her bed with her housemates and an extensive collection of sex toys. She remarked that she had probably had sex with everyone we spoke to at Georgios the other night, individually and together in a lot of cases.

Then she met my father, and he was able to provide her with both incredible sex and a loving relationship. It made her life complete. However, she could not cope with the times he was away. One night was fine, but her anxiety multiplied the number of nights beyond one. The thought of five nights was overpowering, so she tended to get drunk and do something stupid. The thought of sharing them with me was making it more accessible.

After her shower, Sophie sat down to watch TV in a nightie. One of her shorter, semi-transparent ones. She told me that I had seen her body now, and she wanted to be comfortable. She also said to me that if she felt horny, she would touch herself in front of me. It made it more erotic, she said. She also said she was going to avoid touching me, but if I wanted to touch her, go right ahead. She would understand why, though, if I did not.

She had found another series, French and a bit of a detective story. They were investigating some gangsters, and the narrative was interspersed with a lot of sex scenes. It's about the same number and intensity as the Mexican series we watched a month ago. I thought about what Dad had said. I had already watched Sophie masturbating and wanked myself off to a CCTV file of her doing so. Objecting to her doing it in front of me seemed stupid.

At six o'clock on Monday evening, Sophie came in from work as usual, pecked me on the cheek, showered, and changed for Dad's call. I had a session at the college gym in the afternoon, so I had already changed into a T-shirt and baggy shorts. Sophie had one of her tiny nighties and no dressing gown, and we sat on the sofa. I was expecting a call, but Dad FaceTimed us. I am not sure why when he could see on the CCTV.

As Sophie took the call, I could imagine Dad's frown as he saw his wife half naked on the same sofa as his son. Nothing was said as Sophie and I took turns to tell my father about our day, and he told us both his meetings, plus a new idea on remote CCTV saving and look-up from your phone on the Home App. This part lasted about twenty minutes, including a lecture. Looking after Sophie didn't mean I could skip coursework.

At that point, Sophie took the phone and walked into her bedroom. As she walked away, she had one hand behind her back and made follow-me movements with her hands. I let her go inside and waited on the sofa, but then heard Sophie tell Dad that she had forgotten to close the door. The call was still on loudspeaker, propped up on something. So Sophie could play with herself and Dad could see it. She said that all out loud.

So, a little amused, I wandered to the door and found it wide open. I had never seen their room before, and it blew me away. For now, I could see Sophie lying back on the massive circular bed with red leather sides like a Chesterfield sofa. At the bit of the bed nearest the door was a selfie stick with the phone attached. It was inserted in a hole in the bed surround. Sophie's picture was cast onto the big TV by the door.

Sophie was still talking. She told my father that it was too late to shut the door because I was now in the doorway and watching the same view my father was seeing. As Sophie pulled her breasts out by pulling her nightie down, it bunched on her stomach. She started to pinch her already hard nipples, pull one into her mouth, and bite it. Dad was taking over the conversation.

He told her she was a slut; how could she corrupt his son with her wicked ways and harlot behaviour. At some point, Sophie told him to talk to me, to tell his son that he should fuck his dirty, slutty stepmother. Dad ignored that and continued telling Sophie precisely what he wanted her to do. This involved getting out a massive dildo and a vibrator and using them on herself. I stayed out of sight, kept quiet and watched.

After twenty minutes, it was apparent that Dad was playing with himself and had just come. The call ended quite abruptly. There was a playful end, where Dad called out to me. Goodnight if I was there, which he could see on the CCYV. I almost answered, but managed to stop myself in time. After the call ended, Sophie told me to prepare dinner; she had to come a few more times because seeing me watching her had turned her on so much.

After a quick dinner, we settled down to watch the next few episodes of the French series. Sophie settled down to watch it completely naked, although she grabbed a throw off the other sofa to stop getting cold. After watching her just fuck herself, I didn't think I could object. She also brought in the big dildo she had used earlier. The third episode started, and we snuggled down together; tonight, she cuddled across me a bit more.

As the TV sex started, Sophie introduced me to the dildo she had just used on herself. Her juices covered it, and she mirrored the blow job technique on the big screen. She was demonstrating to me that even a dildo that size was within her repertoire, just like the actress. As she returned it to her pussy, she informed me that at some point soon, she was going to compare my cock to my father's.

I was a little in shock. Watching her play with herself to make her happy was one thing, but lining up next to Dad would not happen. She laughed and told me that the dildo was a replica of my father's cock. Which was why she loved playing with it. As the actress on screen was being filled in a rather loving scenario, the dildo slid in and out of her pussy. Sophie told me my father fit into her wonderfully, and I would fill her just as well when I was ready.

On-screen, the hero noted that he was about to come and pulled out to wank himself over his lover's breasts. Sophie called out, "Show me, baby." My right hand just worked on its own, pulling off my loose shorts and grabbing my hard cock in the middle. Pre-come was dribbling off the head. Sophie mentioned that she was struggling to keep her promise not to touch. Could she suck it instead?

Part of me felt I needed to stop and put it away, but Sophie made it difficult as she leaned on me. I had my left arm around her, on her hip, but I felt my hand creep up towards her left breast. My right arm was under her right arm, now pumping my cock up and down. She lay across me, her left hand pushing the dildo deeper into herself and the right on my right hip, stroking its way towards my stomach.

She stopped trying to get herself off and started to talk to me, stirring me into the orgasm I had been bottling up for hours. I hadn't come yet today, and I knew I wouldn't last long; my first time never was. "Oh God", she implored, "it's so big, I need that in my pussy so bad. Come for me, come all over your slutty stepmom. Give me your cream over my tits. Let me lick it off."

It tipped me over the edge, and I furiously wanked myself. Possibly as hard as I had ever done. I moaned hard and started to shoot ropes and ropes of come all over her breasts, even over her neck. I shuddered and moaned and bucked up and down. It was wonderful. As I watched, she took her hand off the dildo and scooped up the come from her breasts, feeding into her mouth. I shuddered as I watched her. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

As I tried to get myself under control and my breathing back to normal, I realised that my father might even be watching this on his laptop. Probably not, but he would undoubtedly be looking at it tomorrow. Had I gone too far, I certainly felt like I had done so. I just remembered that he said I could do anything I felt comfortable with. What just happened felt right. If I had gone too far, he could tell me that I was a naughty boy. If not, I will do the same thing tomorrow.