1. Hannah's Hot Tub - Part 1


    Date: 7/25/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Erotica, Incest, Reluctance, Voyeurism, Wife, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 91, Source: sexstories.com

    Hannah was twelve when her mother Debbie and I first got together and only two years older when we were married. Her parents had divorced when she was only three and her ‘real’ father now lived in Toronto with his new wife and a gaggle of younger British-Canadian kids. Hannah hadn’t seen him in years. The last time she had gone to stay she had felt so awkward with his new wife clearly resenting her presence in the house. Their two kids had been far too young to be company for Hannah and the experience had not been repeated – to the disappointment of no-one other than me. As a result, being an only child of a single Mum, Hannah had grown up seeing Debbie, her Mum more as a sister than a mother; in truth there was only an eighteen year gap between them anyway and the two were extremely close when yours truly first came on the scene. Debbie and I had been introduced at a friend’s barbecue party one warm summer day. Both damaged divorcees in our thirties, she and I had surprisingly hit it off straight away and Debbie had accepted my suggestion that we meet for lunch later in the week. Over the coming few months, lunch dates had become dinner dates; quick kisses goodbye in the doorway had become slow kisses in the hallway and eventually one wonderful morning I woke up in Debbie’s bed with her naked body alongside me. Within three months we had moved in together and less than a year later we were married. It should have been a happy ending or a new beginning, but our attempt at ...
    playing ‘happy families’ was seriously marred by Hannah’s behaviour. I suppose in retrospect, this was entirely predictable. Hannah took after her Scottish-born father both in appearance and in temperament. A natural redhead with pale, slightly freckly skin and deep green eyes, she was tall and slim to the point of skinny, a situation that made her rather self-conscious and which changed little as she passed through puberty. She had a fiery Celtic temper to match and used it to the full on those of whom she disapproved – which in most cases was me! When I was merely a visiting boyfriend I was tolerated with cool, almost excessive politeness. When it became clear that her mother and I were sleeping together this changed to bad tempered grumpiness and long silences when I was with them both. When I actually moved in with them this became almost open hostility, manifesting itself in ways as trivial as deliberately not setting a place for me at the table; hiding my car keys (eventually found under her bed) through acts of increasing seriousness all the way to teenage temper tantrums and on one memorable occasion the cutting in half of all my ties for a supposed slight I had given her over breakfast. “She’s just trying to get your attention,” Debbie would say. “And mine too. It’s only to be expected. She’ll grow out of it!” In my opinion she couldn’t grow out of it quickly enough but I bit my lip and kept my mind on my lovely fiancée, as Debbie was at the time. Debbie was, of course, ...
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