The Wrong Thing To Do

It was snowing lightly in the evening as the taxi turned unto the exclusive street. The taxi driver tilted his head into the mirror, giving a look that summed up the question "really kid you live here?"

Mark Brice had decided to surprise his parents, well his dad, by coming home from college early. He'd been looking forward to Thanksgiving. With a sick professor and an early flight from Burlington to O'Hare, he made it home on Tuesday instead of Wednesday.

Mark wished he could have gone to a closer school, like Northwestern, but his stepmom made even the tiniest thought of that unbearable, and therefore unrealistic.

Mark was now twenty. When his father married his stepmom he was eighteen, but she treated him like he was half that. Having his dad move his weekend curfew from 1 am to 9 pm was just the start; telling his first and only girlfriend that he was gay was the end!

That was the point when he decided he had to go to a college that was far away. In retrospect, it encouraged him to work even harder in high school, but he'd be damned if he was going to give her credit for anything.

Mark was pissed about being dumped by Courtney over something so baseless, and that's when his tolerance of Tiffany completely disappeared. Even though it was a lie, people believed it. He hadn't been able to get another girlfriend; it was hard enough getting a fit tennis pro like Courtney.

Mark couldn't wait to see his dad, but he wasn't looking forward to a weekend with Tiffany. He understood his dad had been lonely after his mom died when he was thirteen, but really, a twenty two year old? "What was his dad thinking?" Was a thought that consumed Mark until he took keen notice of Tiffany's thin seductive figure.

Tiffany was forty two years younger than Mark's dad! They were married almost three years ago, and Tiffany was now twenty four, but didn't look like she aged or changed a bit. She was still that conniving, gold digging succubus.

Like the Sirens of Greek myth, her seductive characters were dangerous. She caused more than a handful of car accidents when she went jogging. Some of the drivers happened to be female too.

Mark's dad was a captain of industry with great strength, except for when it came to women. Mark could remember a decade ago when his dad's weakness almost broke up a long fairytale marriage.

Mark knew she was hot. He hated admitting it, but she was! Sometimes thinking about her was beyond his control. There were many times he rubbed one off to her image while laying there in his bedroom in Ledyard dorm hall.

No girl on campus could hold a candle to her, not that he had ventured out to check, inspect or harvest the crop. The Courtney incident had killed his confidence.

The cab now arrived at Mark's stately looking home pulling up the long winding driveway. "Thank you," Mark said giving the cabbie two Ben Franklin's, even though the fare itself was only sixty dollars.

The old Irish cabbie responded angrily "I can't change this kid," he said while waving the bills, then he froze a little realizing there were two there, instead of the one his old eyes first saw.

"You went out of your way to bring me all the way out here to Lake Forest, so thank you, I appreciate that." As Mark walked away he could see the beginning of a smile appear on the creases of the old cabbie's face.

Mark continued away from the cab, easily hoisting the one piece of baggage he brought, his laptop tucked away in his media/technology bag pack. Since United lost his luggage two years back, he always traveled with one carry-on and only that. "It looks like they haven't cleaned the driveway." Mark said to himself as he slid through a half inch of snow.

When he entered the mansion he spoke "I'm home," very calmly into the intercom system. There was no response. He thought that was odd. He figured at least the bitch would be home. Thinking hard, he concluded his dad was bound to be away on business, possibly due back tomorrow.

The staff must have gone home for the holidays. Mark recalled his dad insisting they take the holidays off. At Tiffany's protest, some would return for preparations on the day or night before the holiday. Tiffany certainly wasn't going to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Mark never actually witnessed her make anything for herself or anyone else for that matter.

As much as he detested her, he figured at least the bitch would be home. He recalled seeing her Bentley out front with her custom 'bad girl' vanity plate.

Well it was a big house; maybe whoever was here didn't hear him. Checking all of the first floor, the nine bedrooms, and the third floor Mark decided he was alone.

Back on the first floor, Mark ordered a pizza and went into the film room. Figuring there was no one home, Mark decided to let loose with some porn, but decided to keep it classy, and rolled up to the playboy channel.

Ten minutes later he heard the intercom buzz, and he went to get his pizza, thinking out loud "that was quick." When he opened up the door, the pizza delivery boy had his head down, no pizza in sight, and he was unbuckling his belt.

"Hey just give me a second baby, then we'll get to the pool." The shaggy haired, Latin looking pizza delivery boy said, as he drooled with anticipation with his head still down.

Mark yelled out "dude I'm not fucking gay." The pizza delivery boy jumped at this. Looking up he went pale, as Mark clearly was not who he had expected to be standing there. He bolted out of there, jumped into his alien green Kia Soul, and skidded down the driveway.

"That was fucking weird." Mark thought as he grabbed a phone to call the pizza place to find out what the fuck just happened. Then he remembered what the pizza delivery boy said, and he remembered that his dad had added a heated indoor pool to the guest wing.

As he entered the hallway to the guest wing, he noticed clothes scattered all over; jeans, boxers, a halter top and the whole clothing rainbow. Seeing this evidence Mark prepared his Camera, taking it out of his technology/media bag pack. Seconds later, Mark tumbled into the swimming pool room. Lacking even the tiniest bit of grace, he had tripped on a 34 d bra. Not knowing what he was shooting at, Mark just snapped away. "Holy fuck" yelled a male voice."

Marks heart was beating like a water pump, as he brought the camera down to his side, he realized who it was. Andre and Mark attended high school together. They weren't friends, far from it; everybody around here knew Andre Williams or knew of him.

Andre was the star quarterback for the University of Illinois now, just like the star he was when he went to Lake Forest High School, the same place where he took Courtney from Mark.

"Andre, what are you doing in my house?" Mark asked confused, disappointed, and relieved, all at the same time.

"Dude..... how's Dartmouth, how is that Ivy League pussy?" Andre asked nervous at the beginning and ending with the outward confidence of his typical swagger; avoiding the question by a mile.

"School is..." Mark started to say . . . stopping, and deciding not to play along with what he assumed was bullshit. Andre was clearly hiding something, as Mark saw him drop his head back while clenching his teeth. The expression seemed to be more of relief than that of fright or embarrassment.

Mark was about to speak, but as he looked at Mr. six pack standing perfectly still in the shallow end bubbles started to appear in front of him, and Andre rolled his eyes back, as he yelled, "oh fuck." As his hand went below the surface of the water, Mark noticed a wavy human presence under the water.

Seconds later, a head covered in platinum blonde hair popped up out of the pool gasping for air. Before Mark could react, he instinctively snapped away, capturing the downfall of Tiffany. Her long wet hair, flowed down well beyond her shoulders, almost covering up her fiery dragon back tattoo that ran down her toned back to just above her dripping heart shaped ass.

Slipping to the other side of the pool, Mark began to capture video as Tiffany unaware, of the breach began to speak. "Was that my all time record baby, or what? Now lick yourself off my tongue."

While Tiffany spoke, her hands and well apportioned body were wrapped around Andre, who appeared slightly nervous. Tiffany suddenly noticed the wandering presence of Andre's eyes, and she turned to match his line of sight.

"AWWWWWHHH Fucking Jesus Christ!!" Tiffany yelled, followed by the clutching of her surprisingly full and firm large breasts.

"I got you now you, whorish, black cock sucking....." Yeah, Andre was black, and this comment seemed to provoke him. Mark didn't mean it in a racist way, but it was too late for explanations.

Seconds after the words were processed by Andre, he jumped out of the pool, with animalistic speed. He stood on the edge of the pool shamelessly displaying his dripping wet, ebony, muscled nakedness. His mostly hard but softening, nine inch manhood wasn't doing anything to overturn stereotypical imagery.

"I'm going to take that camera away just like I took away that little cock tease Courtney." Andre said and then turned around and looked at Tiffany. "Thanks for the help with that babe. A lanky nerd like that certainly didn't deserve something that fine."

While Andre spoke he advanced toward Mark with slow intimidating steps, naked as the day he was born.

Mark really couldn't believe he was surprised by Tiffany's actions. With reality kicking in, Mark realized this was something she had done with the pizza boy and whomever else. Reality also told Mark this was a situation where he was quickly losing control. Mark took the camera he loved so much and dropped it into the pool.

"You're the biggest pussy! You didn't even try to defend your ass, you punk!" Andre sputtered out laughing while he taunted Mark, now ending his advance.

Surprising two, out of the three people in the room, Mark stepped close to Andre, and said, "I'm not backing down, I'll fight you. Just get dressed, that's all I ask. Contrary to the rumor, you two saddled me with, I'm not as fond of cock as my slut of a step-bitch!"

Tiffany seemed to ignore that remark as she pleaded with him, "Don't do it, Mark. You can't do this Andre. You know Mark and I don't get along, but you can't do this. His father will kill both of us if you harm him."

Although still agenda driven, Tiffany uncharacteristically exuded some humanity. Getting out of the pool naked, water ran down her perfectly slender body, ample bust, and heart shaped posterior. Ignoring, or failing to care about her nakedness, she rushed to put a barrier between the two young men.

She couldn't believe Mark was willingly going to fight Andre, who she thought could kill him with one punch.

Tiffany was just about Andre's height, at five eight, while Mark was six three. At the moment, it appeared that Mark's only advantage was height. Just like how Andre's physique fell on stereotypical lines, the Mark that was known to both of them was the typical stereotypical intellectually active, but physically deficient, nerd.

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Mark recommended the indoor tennis court for the throw down.

"Don't do this Mark." Tiffany pleaded, once more finally seeming somewhat human to Mark.

Before anything could be agreed upon, Andre now dressed, threw a sucker punch. Mark was down for awhile, as Tiffany attempted to halt everything and while Andre pushed her away.

Mark got up shaking it off, as blood dripped from his face. The break that occurred when Mark went down quickly, ended as Andre charged him. Mark moved aside, causing Andre to hit the post.

This is when Andre took off his shirt, once again displaying his abs. Out of nowhere he started pounding his chest. Mark laughed at this, taking off his own slightly blood stained shirt. Tiffany and Andre looked on, surprised, as Mark revealed that not all his time at Dartmouth had been spent maintaining that 3.8 GPA.

"Oh you think you're hot shit now, huh! With your sad four packs no glasses big fucking whoop. You still that skinny little rich, pimple faced, loner, fool ass, punk ass, pussy of a nerd." Andre said, moving his body, grabbing his crotch, and moving his hands to match his onslaught of words.

Andre went deep into his pause-less spiel, and thuggish gestures. Mark moved, taking advantage of Andre's misplaced attention, swooping in with a swift and fierce determination.

Pulling his right arm all the way back winding it up, Mark propelled it forward, knocking Andre across the jaw with the force of years of deeply repressed anger. While Andre attempted to play defense, Mark quickly moved left to right, pelting Andre with quick landing blows.

Mark then released his rage on the grounded Andre with a barrage of puncturing hits. After hit after hit, after hit, Andre simply used him arms, and hands in a failed attempt to block the blows.

Tiffany was finally able to pull Mark off of Andre. As Mark left the tennis room, he gave his final words. "I want you two out of this house now!" Mark dictated as calmly as he could in his exhausted state, with blood dripping from his bruised lip.

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A few hours after the fight, Mark was lying down in his bedroom, when a knock came at the door. With no response, the knocks kept coming. Tiffany, in her frilly red satin night gown, decided that Mark would not answer, and fell to the ground in defeat.

Defeat didn't last long, she then moved to the verbal route. "Mark I'm sorry I fucked up and.... I don't know... there really isn't anything to say. I fucked up, but I fucked up more three years ago, when I treated you the way I did, no matter why. I'm sorr...." She began to say into the door, she was interrupted by Mark who chose to disembark his room.

"No... no, you don't get to apologize. Leave the house!!!" Mark yelled with uncontrolled emotion at Tiffany, as tears ran down her face. Tiffany, who had been lying on the ground, limberly rose up with an ice pack in hand.

Mark calmed down and twitched a little, as Tiffany for the first time, seemed to be acting like a real stepmom, by placing the ice pack and an alcohol cloth on his bruised cheek and lip.

"I cheated on your dad, and he did the same, you know that, but I know I was wrong. It started when I married someone old enough to be my grandfather, I'm sorry for that."

I was ready for something, but not for this, Mark thought. Without the camera, he lost his upper hand, but she was, well, genuinely apologetic. Mark had no game plan for this.

Tiffany stared into Mark's brown eyes pleading. "Do you forgive me?" Mark was fighting against himself, but a sympathetic response slipped out nonetheless. Out of nowhere, Tiffany rose up, lifting her head slightly and caught Mark off guard with a soft kiss.

Pulling back her smooth lips, Tiffany dropped her gown to the ground. Mark quickly scooped her up, dropped her on his bed, and pounced on top of her. Tiffany agilely slid out from under Mark, getting on top straddling and grinding her naked body on the still clothed Mark.

Mark was a virgin who had only had one blowjob in his entire twenty years. However, he realized that this was not an opportunity to be squandered. He was determined to make the best of what looked like the night he would lose his virginity, even though the person taking it was his step-mother and it was technically a forbidden act in the eyes of God.

Mark picked up Tiffany as she attempted to kiss him, with the snakelike reach of her slippery, but focused, tongue. Mark rejected the goddesses tongue as gracefully as he could; he simply wasn't ready for that. Her hands slipped under Mark's pajamas, fondling his already hard length. She smiled mischievously as she tugged and dropped Marks pajama bottoms and boxer shorts.

Tiffany dropped back onto the bed. "Fuck me, take me any way you want" she begged. Mark took this to heart. Grabbing his seven inches, Mark stated "suck me off first please."

Tiffany said nothing she simply smiled, nimbly moving off the bed onto her knees, taking his cock head into her mouth and running her tongue around it teasingly. As Tiffany moved down further, Mark fell back unto the bed hollering out "I'm Cumming."

It could have been out of previous anger, but for some reason, he didn't allow Tiffany access to escape the upcoming flood. Not that she wanted to go anywhere, because she didn't budge. She swallowed what seemed like gallons of seed, without any spillage. "I am sorry." Mark said legitimately apologetic.

"It's cool." she replied "I like to swallow." Tiffany said with the sexiest wink and a chuckle after the words because of the naughty undertone. As she licked the head of Mark's cock, it came back to life. Looking down at his stepmom and thinking that this was the wrong thing to do made Mark apprehensive, but at the same time it made him harder. His Id was clearly kicking his superego's ass here.

With Mark sitting down, she moved her right hand along his length and her left hand began to massage his balls. She took more and more of his length into her mouth, stretching her mouth to cradle his girth.

Mark's cock was growing slick and slippery as Tiffany's quick tongue, and warm mouth smothered his aching member with saliva. It almost seemed as if his cock were already in a vagina's embrace. Tiffany kept her sucking and pumping, and ball fondling up for minutes as the tension began to build.

With a loud popping sound Mark's cock was dislodged from Tiffany's mouth followed by a chuckle from Tiffany. Tiffany took Mark's balls into her mouth from left to right, with vacuum like intensity; she moved her delicate hands along the length of his cock while staring at him with her seductive blue eyes.

Tiffany surprised Mark by thrusting her mouth down, taking the majority of Mark's length into the depths of her mouth and throat, and back again repeating it with rampant vigor.

Meanwhile Mark was sitting, ready to pop but distracted, staring at Tiffany's breasts, unsure how he should approach them. Should he grab them, he thought to himself. As Tiffany kept at it, like she was bobbing for apples. Mark remembered not to mistake this for what it wasn't, as he put his palm on Tiffany's plentiful breasts.

As Mark tweaked and massaged away gently, he felt like he was really near a second Cumming. This time, after yelling out "I'm Cumming," he kept his hands away from Tiffany's head. Instead he kept them where they were, buried underneath the twins, massaging them just below the point of groping them.

Mark didn't choose to do anything about the amount of his seed that was now rushing into Tiffany's mouth, but he could, and did, recall the efforts of his busy hands.

The attention paid toward her nipples, caused moans of pleasure to escape her mouth, as she pulled away from Mark's now soft member.

Tiffany laid there on the bed, as Mark licked away at her breasts. As he started to kiss her stomach, she prayed under her breath that he would just go a little bit lower.

Mark now reached Tiffany's bald mound, this was partly the result of Tiffany's hands physically pushing him down there, and her now sticky mouth edging him on, to go just a little further.

For the first time in the longest while, Tiffany spoke, just as Mark was about to touch his tongue to her pussy. "You really don't have a problem with doing this?" She asked curiously, pushing her anticipation to the side giggling.

"Just lie down and guide me along." Mark stated, as he dropped his head to her nether regions, licking away at her vagina directionless as he lay on the bed below Tiffany, who quickly grabbed a pillow propping herself up.

Mark, the neophyte that he was, fumbled around as his tongue wondered directionless. Tiffany jumped when his tongue came across her clit. This was followed by hands forcing his head down. "Right there, yeah right fucking there!" She bellowed.