White Swan

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The sweet taste of a young ballerina.
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Though not intended to be the next "chapter," for many of you who read my "Step-Daughter Watches" series, this will seem so. This story stands on its own, but your understanding of my story will be enhanced if you first read my S/D Watches series.

I don't know if there will be any follow-on to this story.

As always, constructive and appreciative comments are welcomed.

All persons are 18 or over.

WHITE SWAN

I shouldn't be facing this dilemma again.

I shouldn't be faced with lustful thoughts about my youngest stepdaughter.

I shouldn't have to figure out if she's aware of what she's doing to me.

And... I shouldn't be wondering if she knows about me and her older sister, Ashley.

But here I am. Once again overwhelmed by a mountain of conflicting emotions rattling around in my head... and the raging hard-on I'm madly stroking as the water from the showerhead cascades down my body.

My second marriage had sexually evolved into something I could never have imagined.

My wife and I have enjoyed a very healthy sex life from our first date – which ended with her taking my hand and leading me upstairs to her bedroom, past the closed bedroom doors of her two daughters. I admitted to her several months later that the thought of having sex in her room, even with the door closed, with her daughters sleeping nearby was surprisingly erotic and naughty and had heightened my excitement, and, as she reminded me, my vocal chords.

I didn't meet her daughters until a few weeks later, but was relieved to discover that they were cute, and charming.

While dating, if we finished the night at her place, we were always careful to make sure that they were in bed before we satisfied our carnal desires, thought there were several times when we had to scramble to gather ourselves when we heard one of their doors open – not wanting them to come downstairs and see their mothers head in my lap, her mouth sliding up and down my cock as she encouraged me to fill her mouth with my seed.

We also both discovered, during one of our phone chats, that we'd each experimented in the group sex/swinging arena and were interested in furthering our experiment together. We attended a few parties and enjoyed getting together with a few other couples, but always at either someone else's home or my condo.

At some point, about two years after we started dating, she had become comfortable with me spending the night. My wife is very comfortable with her body and even before we were married, would often walk around her house in her bra and panties, even in my presence. It seemed quite natural to her and her daughters, and she would tease me about being a prude when I would make sure I was always wearing either my pajama bottoms or a pair of running shorts whenever her daughters were around. I remember her gently patting my arm and sweetly smiling at me and saying, "Don't be silly, it's perfectly natural," when I mentioned to her that she should warn the girls when I was there so they didn't walk downstairs in the morning wearing only panties and a t-shirt. Eventually, after we were married, even I grew comfortable walking around the house in my boxer briefs and a t-shirt.

It was shortly after my oldest step-daughters 18th birthday that my 'problems' fully surfaced. Both step-daughters readily accepted my presence in their life and it was easy to forget that they weren't actually my daughters. It was quite common for one or the other of them to sit on my knee or in my lap and give me a big hug and rest their head on my chest or shoulder and watch TV with me, the other step-daughter and my wife similarly situated on the couch.

But as the oldest one, Ashley, matured and passed through puberty, it was becoming clear that she had her mothers' genetics and by the time she turned 18, watching her walk around in her bra and panties, not to mention sitting in my lap, had begun to cause my cock to twitch, regardless of my desire to behave.

The summer after her graduation, I was convinced that Ashley would intentionally find an excuse to wiggle her ass against my crotch, enjoying the discomfort she caused me as my cock stiffened against her.

Though it took a few years, it seemed a short trip as we progressed from her wiggling her ass in my lap, to catching her sneaking upstairs from her basement bedroom to try to watch her mother and I having sex in the living room or in the hot tub out back, and finally, to the full consummation of our incestuous relationship in her mid-twenties.

And while I had definitely enjoyed the sexual part of my relationship with Ashley, I knew it wouldn't last forever and, in fact, she eventually married and the sexual side of our relationship had to be throttled back to the point that we were only able to find an opportunity to get together a few times in the last couple years.

All the while, her younger sister, Heather, also passed through puberty and had developed into a beautiful young woman.

Their body shapes are different as night and day. Ashley is a typically and beautifully proportioned woman with child-bearing hips and a small waist, complimented by her C cup breasts.

Heather, on the other hand, has the lithe body of a dancer, and at 5'-5" is taller than Ashley, but her hips are not nearly as curvy and her legs are long and toned from all the years of competitive dancing. Her breasts are smallish and less developed than most of her friends, but they are the very definition of "tiny titties."

In my opinion, however, her most impressive feature is her incredibly toned ass. It is perfectly shaped and begins its gentle, but firm rise from the top of her very, very long legs. It is small and compact, no doubt a result of the narrow shape of her hips.

My familiarity with her shape is the result of her pre-dance stretching routine, which consists of rolling her warm-up mat out on the floor, and stretching and limbering up before her mother or I take her to the studio. Most of the time, she asks her mother to help her with her flexibility warm-up exercises, and I had begun enjoying subtly watching as her skin-tight leotard would hug her ass and crotch so tightly during some of her exercises that I could see the crease dividing the mounds of her pussy.

Recently, however, it seemed to me that her most 'exposing' stretches seemed to be performed with her crotch facing directly at me. My personal favorite is when she raises one leg and grabs her ankle and raises her leg so high that it is pressed against her face, as if she were doing the splits while standing on one leg. This causes her leotard to stretch so tightly against her pussy that it leaves little to the imagination.

It also reminded me of a prima ballerina that I had dated several years before I met my wife and how she would strike this position in the nude so I could walk up and slide my cock into her pussy while her leg was pressed between our bodies. It permitted the deepest and tightest penetration of any position I'd ever tried and never failed to result in our bodies crashing to the floor as we both trembled in post-orgasm bliss.

I have tried, and failed, to replicate this position with my wife, only to have her tease me about spending too much time at the dance studio watching the dancers stretch and warm up.

I have assisted Heather with her stretching exercises now and then, but find that I'm hesitant to help her because my mind and cock conspire together, with every electric jolt that I feel when I touch her, to cause my heart to pound in my chest and my cock to swell.

It was on just such an occasion that our relationship changed.

Heather came into the family room for her normal Saturday morning stretching. I was sitting in my recliner, sipping a cup of coffee and catching up on the latest sports news on TV.

I was looking forward to being distracted by her array of positions and was barely pretending to watch TV, as she bent and twisted her body and we talked about a variety of monotonous subjects to break the silence in the room.

I knew the affect watching her would have on me, but wasn't particularly concerned about it since I had the newspaper spread across my lap. It wasn't until she asked me to help her that I remembered that her mother had gone to meet one of her girlfriends for a cup of coffee at the local specialty coffee shop, and, more importantly, I was sitting there in my boxer briefs.

My feeble argument for not helping her fell on deaf ears as she reminded me that her mom wasn't around and she needed help so I was the only one left. She paused her preliminaries and stood with one hand on her hip, cocked her head and said, "Come on dad, please."

I told myself that I was the stronger person and could keep my thoughts on the clinical and technical aspects of helping her and prevent my cock from humiliating me.

Heather moved through her preliminary warm up stretches as I rose from my chair and waited to help. After a few minutes she moved into a split position on the floor, then asked me to lift each foot and place a padded roll under each foot, essentially leaving her leotard-clad pussy as the only point of contact between her body and the cool tile floor.

It was then that I noticed something I couldn't remember seeing before; her nipples were visibly poking at her leotard as if they were trying to rip the material. My cock immediately twitched with life as I realized she wasn't wearing her tights underneath the leotard, as she normally did. This also meant that her legs were bare, and, more importantly, the only thing covering her pussy was the thin, taut material of her leotard.

I couldn't help but allow my eyes to roam over her entire body. The firm defined muscles in her thighs and calves; the outline of her small breasts beneath the black leotard; the aforementioned nipples, erect and pressing against the leotard. Even without seeing it yet, I knew immediately that the absence of tights beneath her leotard would exaggerate the definition of the mounds of her pussy.

I could feel my cock begin to swell and offered to get her some water from the kitchen so that I could leave the room and try to adjust my semi-erect cock and make it less obvious. I considered running upstairs and putting on some jeans but my thought was interrupted when Heather shouted for me to hurry up.

I returned with the glass of water as Heather leaned to one side so she could end her split, stand up, and put her feet together, toes pointing 180 degrees apart, heel-to-heel, bend over, wrap her arms around the backs of her knees and hug her torso against her legs. Her back was to me and I was met with the erotic outline of her ass and the puffy mounds of her pussy pressed against the leotard.

My cock was now well past semi-erect and the tent in my boxer briefs was painfully obvious.

"Dad! You're bad!" I looked down at her face in time to see her eyes move up from my tented boxer briefs to meet my gaze. "I'm sorry sweetie, but you're growing up into a beautiful young woman and sometimes you remind me of your mother."

"Daaaad! You have to help me! Stand in front of me and hold my hips so I can do a hand-stand now."

I moved around her and held her hips as she put her hands down on the floor and began to unfold her legs upward into a hand-stand. As she unfolded, she spread her legs in an upside down split and held them there for a few moments, leaving her pussy close enough to me that I could see a few strands of pubic hair peeking out from the sides of her leotard. Then she closed her legs and extended them upward toward the ceiling.

My cock was now fully engorged and throbbing against the material of my boxer briefs. I released her hips as I walked away from her saying, "I can't do this right now sweetie."

"Dad!"

By the time I got to the top of the stairs, a small wet spot had appeared on my boxer briefs as the precum from my cock oozed through the material. My mind was swirling and my cock was aching.

I grabbed my jeans on the way to the master bath, threw some cold water on my face and took a few deep breaths. I was acting like a pubescent fourteen year old with raging hormones!

After collecting myself for a few minutes, I went back downstairs to find Heather sitting on the floor. "Are you finished?" I asked.

"No. I was waiting for you."

"I had to go upstairs and put my jeans on."

"I know. I saw. How come you were like that?"

"It's difficult to explain sweetie."

"I hate when mom tells me that, 'cause it means she doesn't wanna answer my question."

"It's not like I don't know what a penis looks like you know." She added.

"I know, but not your step-fathers."

"It was ok for Ashley to see it..." she said, looking down at the floor.

Oh shit. My brain burst into flames. I had a hundred questions to ask, but all I could manage was, "What?"

"Ashley told me you let her see your penis."

"When?"

"Last summer when mom was out with her friends and you were in the hot tub by yourself and Ashley came home and wanted to get in too and you let her get in wearing moms underwear cause her swimsuit was dirty and she said she knew you weren't wearing your swimsuit cause it was hanging on the hook and she saw your penis when you stood up to get your drink and cigar."

Again, "What?"

"Never mind. It's ok."

"But can you help me finish my stretches now?"

"Dad?"

I was still trying to process what she said about me and her sister in the hot tub... "What? Ummm... Yeah, sure. What do you want me to do?"

"Sit on the floor with your legs straight out to the sides as far as you can. I'll sit facing you and put my feet on yours and scoot closer."

I sat with my back to the couch for support and put my legs out in front of me – spread at about ninety degrees – far short of Heather's flexibility. She sat on the floor across from me and spread her legs and put her feet against mine, affording me an unobstructed view of her leotard clad pussy as she leaned down and touched her head to one leg then the other alternately.

Every time she made this move, her leotard would stretch even more tightly over her pussy.

I looked up at the TV as I asked her why she wasn't wearing her tights. "cause I need new ones and mom is bringing them back from the store before she takes me to dance."

Heather stopped her exercise and sat back and braced herself with her hands. I knew from watching and helping her previously that she was going to begin sliding her body closer to me while keeping her feet braced against mine. This would help her attain another split.

It would also mean she would be moving closer to me as her split got wider and wider. By the time she stopped, her feet had extended out beyond mine and my feet were now pressed against her calves and her torso was about a foot and a half from me. She tried to move a little closer but lost her balance and fell towards me, reaching out with both hands to brace herself as she fell into me. One hand landed on my inner thigh, almost touching my crotch. The other hand landed squarely on my cock. I jumped as her hands squeezed and she pushed herself back upright.

Heather acted like nothing had happened as she continued her stretching.

"Hey you" I said.

Now it was her turn to say, "What?"

"You know what – watch your hands young lady."

"Oh, sorry. It was an accident." She tried to brush it off.

"No it wasn't and we both know it wasn't."

Now she stopped and looked at me. "It's just not fair that it was ok for Ashley to see your penis and it's not ok for me."

Here it comes. All that incredible sex I had with Ashley was about to bite me squarely in the ass.

"So is that what this is all about – you getting a peek at my penis?"

"No.... Maybe."

"What's up with that?"

"I don't know. I just have these feelings and I like the way boys touch me sometimes but Ashley told me I should talk to you about it and not let those boys use me like a toy."

"Ok, exactly what has Ashley told you – and EXACTLY how are boys touching you?" I was going to have to have a serious talk with Ashley, though I suspected it was too late.

"Heather... you can talk to me now, or we can wait til your mother gets back," I bluffed.

"No... It's just that I know you and mom still do it cause I can hear you sometimes... And I know you let Ashley get in the hot tub naked when you and mom were in there naked too... and it's just not fair."

"Not fair?"

"Ashley says it feels really cool to be all grown up and get in the hot tub naked with you guys."

Blank stare.

"Nevermind, just help me finish stretching, please."

She stood up and stretched her leg out and grabbed the ankle and pulled her leg up so that it extended straight above her head in the aforementioned favorite position of mine.

"Ok, you can start near my knee," she said as she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against her raised leg and held the leg up with one hand and steadied herself on the back of a chair with the other.

I knew what she wanted me to do. In this position, she needs someone to knead her thigh muscles to loosen them up and allow them to stretch and lengthen. I'd seen her mother do it many times before, but I had only done it to her a few times. I stepped next to her, determined to focus on helping her and not looking at the fabric that was barely covering her pussy. I encircled her leg just below the knee with my hands and began kneading her muscles with my thumbs.

"Ouch!"

I stopped.

"No, it's ok. It's supposed to hurt... a little. It'll be ok when the muscles start to relax and loosen up."

I pressed on. After about two minutes she said, "Ok, lower now," and I slid my hands a few inches away from her knee, closer to pussy.

This continued with her telling me to move further down her uplifted leg every few minutes. My hands were holding her leg as my thumbs continued their deep tissue assault on her thigh muscles. Her skin was so soft and youthfully perfect. Thanks to her older sister, it hadn't been that long since I'd touched such soft, supple skin, but it still felt like a treat and my fingers were beginning to move in unison with my thumbs and massage the full expanse of my grip.

"That feels great dad..." Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth was open slightly and her breathing was a little deeper than normal. As my eyes traced their way down her body, I noticed that her nipples were rigidly stretching the fabric of her leotard, seemingly yearning to break free. My mouth watered at the thought of encircling one of them with my lips... gently sucking and brushing my teeth across the tip. I wondered if her nipples were as sensitive as her mothers.

I quickly glanced back up at her face. Her eyes were still closed. I continued my visual trail down her body. Her abdomen was trembling slightly.

"Are you ok – do we need to stop?" I asked.

"No. Good." Was all she said; her eyes remained closed.

I had reached the point where it was very awkward to continue to move my hands down from a standing position and knew that I would have to kneel down in front of her the next time she asked me to go lower. On cue, I tried to move my hands down into the last position, virtually at the junction of her gusset, without kneeling.

"No," she said, "you can't do it standing up, it makes your wrists hurt. You have to get down."

I knelt and slid my hands down into the final position.

The outer half of my left palm was directly over her pussy. The moist heat was unmistakable. It was difficult to keep that edge of my palm from brushing her pussy with each kneading stroke of my thumbs. I felt the material of her leotard as my palm brushed it and I bent my wrist to avoid such contact, but this was a painful and awkward position. I didn't remember having this problem in the past, and didn't remember seeing her mother have this problem either. What was I doing that was different?

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