I’m lying on my bed reading a magazine when Alex stops at my open door. “Ashley,” he says, “I’m running to the store. Do you want to go with me?”

“No thanks,” I reply. “I’m still in my nightshirt.” “Do you need anything?”

“Condoms.”

He does a double-take. “What?” I giggle. “Just joking.”

He frowns. “That’s nothing to joke about.” “Relax, Dad. Don’t take things so seriously.”

My stepdad is a cool guy, but he’s a little uptight. Especially when it comes to the subject of sex. Even though I’m not his real daughter, he’s very protective of me. He didn’t even allow me to go on a date until I was sixteen, and I had to call him every half hour to let him know I wasn’t raped and left for dead in a ditch somewhere.

Now, two years later I’m eighteen, and I don’t have to call Alex when I’m out on a date. But he grills every guy who comes to pick me up like he’s the CIA interrogating a terrorist.

Of course, he would totally flip out if he knew I’d lost my virginity a year ago. Not only that, I’d been sexually active since then. From the way I always hear him and my Mom in their bedroom arguing about sex, I probably get laid more than he does.

“If you decide you need anything,” he says, “text me.”

He’s the embodiment of masculine, with his rugged, scruffy unshaven face, deep blue eyes, and longish dark hair. To complete the look he’s wearing a red and black plaid flannel shirt over his lean, muscular frame, and a pair of worn blue jeans.

“Thanks,” I reply.

He disappears down the hall.

After I hear him go down the stairs, I move to my window and look out at our driveway. A minute later his SUV backs down onto the road and heads off.

Finally, I’m alone in the house. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Alex is at the store and my mom is off for the weekend with her book club on a wine tasting tour.

I go downstairs and grab a chair from the kitchen, carrying it down the hall to the closed door to Alex’s home office. Placing the chair in front of the door, I stand on it and reach up to the top of the frame, feeling for the key up there. After grabbing it, I hop down and move the chair out of the way.

Alex makes his living as a writer, and instead of commuting to an office somewhere like other dads, he stays at home and writes. What does he write? I have no clue.

I’ve asked him many times, but he just brushes me off, telling me I wouldn’t be interested in the things he writes. I’ve told him I’d be interested in anything he writes, but he’s like a brick wall on the subject. Not only that, he keeps his office locked at all times he’s not in there. And any time I do come in to visit while he’s working, he quickly closes his laptop screen so I can’t see anything. It’s so frustrating. When I ask Mom about it, she just says it’s ‘technical instruction manuals’ and I should stop worrying about it.

Then one day last week I’m vacuuming the carpet in the hall, and I accidentally bang the vacuum cleaner against the base of the door to Alex’s office. As if by magic, a key falls from the sky onto the carpet. Of course, I check to see if it fits the lock, and the door opens. Bingo.

I guess Alex figures with my five-feet-four height, I’d never discover the key at the top of the frame. While his six-feet-two allows him to just reach up and grab it.

Since I’m not alone in the house at the time, I put the key back on the frame and plan to use it when I had the chance.

And today is that chance.

I slide the key into the lock and turn, and the lock pops open. I enter my stepdad’s forbidden sanctuary.

can feel my heartrate picking up. If Alex had forgotten anything and comes back, I would be busted without any reasonable excuse to be in here. He’d probably ground me for a month.

Artwork fills the walls and a couch sits along one side, but I ignore all of it and walk straight to his large wooden desk. I move behind it and sit it in the high-backed leather chair before opening his laptop. It starts right up, showing the login screen, including the request for a password.

Damn, I hadn’t considered this possibility.

Five minutes later I’m still trying to guess the password, typing in birthdays and pet names Alex had mentioned. Running out of ideas, I type in ‘Ashley0224’ which is my name and birthday.

To my complete surprise, the desktop appears.

“Holy shit,” I mutter. Really? Alex is using my name as his password? That seems a little weird. My password is so much better since it’s ‘LICKmyCLIT69’. No one’s going to guess that one.

I start searching through Alex’s hard drive, and find a directory called ‘Writing’. Underneath that are various directories including, ‘Covers’, ‘Published’, and ‘Working.’ I click on the ‘Published’ directory and under that are directories for each month going back several years. I open the directory for the latest month.

What I see there confuses me. Each directory is a bunch of words crammedtogether,like‘StrandedWithMyStepdad’or ‘DisciplinedByMyStepdad.’

What the fuck? What does all that mean?

I click into one of the directories, and there’s a Word document there. I open it up and start to read.

Five minutes later I’m staring at the screen in shock. It’s an erotic story about a stepdad fucking his stepdaughter.

I look at several more documents and they’re all the same. Stepdads and

stepdaughters in all kinds of scenarios, but each one ends with them fucking.

Holy shit.

This is what Alex has been writing? These are the books he’s selling?

I’m stunned. Simply stunned. My straight-laced father who feels he has to guard my virginity is writing fuck books? About stepdads and stepdaughters? When he’s a stepdad and I’m his stepdaughter? That’s just so freaky.

One of the titles catches my eye. It’s called, ‘In a Motel with My Stepdad.’ I open the file and begin to read, and as I do, I’m even more shocked.

The story is about a stepdad who has to drive his stepdaughter to cheer camp, and they have to stay at a motel on the way. And of course, they end up having sex in the motel.

What makes the story so weird is that just a few months ago Alex drove me to cheer camp, and we had to stop at a motel on the way. Of course, nothing happened between us at the motel, other than watching some TV and then sleeping in separate beds.

An idea occurs to me, and I check the date the document was written. Sure enough, it was completed about a week after Alex and I spent the night in the motel together.

Holy shit, he’s getting ideas for stories based on things that happened with us. And then changing them around so that the characters have sex.

I found another story titled, ‘Breakfast in Bed with My Stepdad.’ In this one, the stepdaughter brings her stepdad breakfast in bed on his birthday. And like all the other books, this leads to them fucking.

When I check the date it was written, sure enough, it was about a week after his birthday back in April. And yes, I had brought him breakfast in bed for that birthday.

I find another one called, ‘Surprised by My Stepdad,’ and begin reading it, wondering what experience between Alex and me had inspired it. But as I read, I discover it’s about a stepdad walking into his daughter’s bedroom without knocking and finding her fucking herself with a vibrator.

That’s interesting, I thought. That never happened. I don’t even own a vibrator, and while I masturbate frequently, Alex has never walked in on me doing it.

So that means that all of his stories aren’t based on actual events. Some of them come from his imagination. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. Do I really want my stepdad imagining those kinds of scenarios with me?

I continue reading the story, and have to admit to myself it’s kinda hot. After the stepdad walks in on his daughter using the vibrator, he confronts her, asking why she lied to him and told him she was a virgin. She explains that while she busted her own cherry with the vibrator, she still hasn’t had sex with a guy. So she technically still is a virgin.

Then she says, “I’ve been waiting for my daddy to fuck me.”

They start going at it, screwing right there on the bed. And wow, the writing makes me feel like I’m right there experiencing it. I never knew Alex was such a good writer. He’s actually making my pussy wet with his words.

I keep reading, and somehow my hand slides up under my nightshirt and then down into my panties, where I start fingering my pussy. It’s kind of weird, rubbing myself to something Alex wrote, but I can’t help myself. I can picture myself in this girl’s place, lying back as her daddy pounds her with his cock.

I reach the end of the scene where the dad fills his stepdaughter’s womb with his surging cum, so I pull the crotch of my panties to the side and lean back in the chair, placing my feet up on the edge of the desk and allowing my thighs to fall apart. Then I close my eyes and begin rubbing my clit again, getting lost in the scene I’d just read, imagining I’m a part of it.

In my mind, I’m lying back on the bed as my stepdad fucks me. No, not Alex, but the fictitious stepdad in the story. Imagining I’m fucking Alex would just be too weird.

I can feel my pleasure rising as my fingers bat against my swollen nub. It won’t be long until I explode.

I’m not sure if I hear something, or just sense it, but suddenly it feels like I’m not alone anymore. I open my eyes,

And there, standing right in front of me on the other side of the desk, is Alex.

tartled, I quickly bring my legs down and sit up straight.

“Alex!” I exclaim, then quickly pull my panties back over my pussy and cover my crotch with my hands.

He stands there glaring at me. I’m not sure if he’s angry at me because I’m in his office, or because I’m rubbing my pussy in his chair. Or both.

“Ashley? What the hell?”

“Um, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Why are you in my office? And what the hell are you doing?” Yeah, I’m right. He’s mad about both.

“Um… I…”

As hard as I try, I just can’t think up a good excuse for why I’m here.

Nothing he would believe anyway. “Ashley? Answer me!”

I realize I have two directions I can go here. I can be the cowering daughter, giving into my stepdad’s authority, as hypocritical as that authority is. Or, I can take advantage of my newfound knowledge and change the dynamic between Alex and me.

I give him a slight smile. “What am I doing?” “That’s what I asked,” he says, glaring at me.

“I’m reading. And I’m really enjoying what I’m reading. As you can tell by what I was doing.”

Alex stares at me with wide eyes, obviously shocked by my response.

I continue, “I really think you’re a good writer, Daddy, and I especially like your subject matter.”

I see his mind working, but he still doesn’t reply.

“And you know what I really love, Daddy? I really love how you’ve taken things you and I have done together and put them in your stories. Like the time we stayed overnight in that motel on the way to cheer camp. Or the time I served you breakfast in bed. God, that story was so exciting. I almost

came from just reading it.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t do that.”

I ignore him and say, “Are you going to write a new story? One about you coming home to discover your daughter in your office, reading your stories and rubbing her pussy in your chair?”

“Ashley, stop,” he whispers.

“I have to say, Daddy, I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the inspiration for so many of your stories, but you don’t let me read them.”

“Please stop.”

“And now that I know about this, I can inspire all kinds of new stories. Just think of the possibilities. My imagination is pretty good. For example, what if I snuck into your bedroom late at night and sucked you while Mom was sleeping right next to you? You can call that one ‘Waking my Stepdad.’”

His eyes turn angry again. “You need to watch your mouth, Ashley.”

“Or what? Are you going to tell Mom? Does she know about this? I really doubt it.”

He frowns. “Did you happen to read the one titled ‘Spanked by my Stepdad’? That could happen too, you know.”

I meet his angry gaze, refusing to flinch. “Let me guess,” I say, “Daddy spanks his stepdaughter and she likes it. Then they fuck.”

“That’s the fiction,” he growls. “Something tells me the reality is going to be more painful for you.”

I grin and stand, then walk around to his side of the desk, facing him. “Let’s write a story together, Daddy.”

“Don’t do this.” His voice is low and threatening.

I smile again and turn around, leaning over to grip the edge of his desk. Then I arch my back, causing my ass to tilt up. My nightshirt rides up, revealing my panty-clad ass to his gaze.

“Stop it, Ashley. Right now!”

I wiggle my butt in his direction. “Come on, Daddy. Prove you can do more than just write about your fantasies. Make them come true. Spank me like the daddy in the story did. You can–”

Smack!