Note: This is part of a serial, and all parts can be read and understood on their own but are best read together in order. Click here for the Table of Contents that lists the reading order of all the parts of this serial.

Amelia:

Right when I’m almost finished cooking Thanksgiving dinner, my mom comes strolling through the front door as if she hadn’t just been out all night drinking and fucking random guys on Thanksgiving, despite just having gotten married to my stepdad.

My super handsome, older, rich, experienced stepdad, who I just let pop my cherry!

You might say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe I’m a ho like my mom. Except I would disagree. Because I’d never been with anyone before I was with Jim.

And I know I shouldn’t have hooked up with my stepdad. But it was so hot that I couldn’t help it! I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence on this fine Day of Thanks,” I say to my mom sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes and sits down at the table.

“You should be happy I’m giving you a place to stay while you’re on break from college,” she says with a shrug.

I sigh. It figures that she thinks she’s doing me a favor by letting me stay here when I visit during a school break, considering that she was such an absentee mother while I was growing up that I’d had to go live with my Great Aunt Martha.

I’m only back here now because Great Aunt Martha is experiencing some health problems and needs a live-in home health care aid who stays in the room that used to be mine.

“Well, here’s the turkey,” I tell her, taking it out of the oven and setting it on top of it. “Do you want to help me with the stuffing and dressing and fixings for it?”

“Oh, I think you can handle it. That’s the least you can do to thank me for letting you stay here,” my mom says.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes as I start dressing the turkey. I can’t help but think of how Jim had stuffed me like a turkey just a few hours ago.

I want him again so bad that it hurts! My pussy is aching for him and not just because he’d deflowered me and it had hurt some. Rather, it’s like it feels empty and throbbing, like it’s needing to be filled up again by his big cock.

As if he can read my mind, Jim enters the kitchen and tells my mother hello. She says hello back, but there’s an obvious iciness between them. Their marriage has clearly been over ever since it got started. In fact, it was a complete sham, built on the kind of lies my mom likes to fabricate while she’s pretending to be the perfect girlfriend. Then, quickly after the wedding, she always starts cheating on the men before leaving them and trying to take them for all they’re worth.

Usually the guys are ugly and portly because she’s only in this gig for the money. She’s never had to lift a finger a day in her life. But she really scored a good one in Jim this time. He’s not only rich and successful, but he’s also hot as fuck.

I feel my pussy juices dripping down my leg as obviously as the juices are dripping out of the turkey as I think about Jim’s big hands running all over my body, and then his big cock thrusting into my pussy.

He’d told me he wanted to knock me up! Could I be pregnant with my stepfather’s baby right now?

The thought makes me smile. Jim must catch me doing it because when I turn my head slightly in his direction, I can see him looking at me with a grin on his own face as well.

“Have you two been having a good Thanksgiving?” my mother asks, suddenly appearing interested in someone besides herself, which is rare.

I swear she has a sixth sense about these things. She’s the only one who can be the focus of anyone’s attention for any amount of time. She must have caught onto the fact that Jim and I were smiling at each other, and gotten jealous and suspicious.

“Oh, I guess so,” I answer her, trying to sound nonchalant. “We were just eating together mostly.”

Eating each other is more like it, I think, as I remember how Jim buried his face in my pussy and how I sucked on his cock like there was no tomorrow.

But that was nothing compared to how he pushed it inside me for my very first time, causing me to moan, groan and scream out his name as he fucked me faster, harder, deeper.

Shit.

My face is on fire now and I hope my mom doesn’t notice. Jim is doing a good job of staring at night, but I bet he’s hard right now. I wish I could go put my hand on his pants and feel his stiff package underneath, that’s undoubtedly waiting for its opportunity to be back inside me.

I can’t wait until it can have its way with me, and the anticipation motivates me to get this farce of a happy family Thanksgiving meal started.

“Here you go,” I say, quickly putting some turkey, stuffing, fixings and sides onto plates and then bringing them over to my mom and Jim.

“Let me help you with that,” Jim offers, but as he goes to stand up, I notice he only makes it half-way.

He’s probably trying to hide his boner, and that thought excites me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I insist, and he looks grateful for the save. “I’ve got it.”

My mom hasn’t even offered to get up, and she starts scarfing down her food before I’ve even set my own plate down on the table.

I’m not surprised. Let’s just say we’ve never had the kind of family that would go around saying what we’re thankful for before eating a Thanksgiving dinner.

But if we were, then I’d have to hide my biggest secret, which is that I’m thankful my mom married Jim so that he can stick his big dick into my pussy any time she isn’t here.

Or, I think, as I catch him winking at me all throughout dinner, maybe even when she is. As long as we can be sneaky and get away with it!

Jim:

I can’t take my eyes off of Amelia during the entire dinner. And it’s not just because she’s such a great cook, even though the meal she made really is amazing.

The Thanksgiving dinner laid out before us is a feast worthy of kings. In the center is an enormous roasted turkey, golden and juicy, bathed in its own gravy, which shines with pepper flakes and fresh herbs.

There are mounds of mashed potatoes slathered in buttery creaminess beside bowls filled with roasted vegetables like carrots and parsnips while sweet cranberry sauce adds a tartness to the plate. Around it all lie crisp bacon strips sending up their own smoky scent amidst a sea of fluffy stuffing.

But all of that is nothing compared to the beauty I find in Amelia’s eyes, her smile and the way she moves. She captivates me like no other and I can’t help but feel thankful for having such a wonderful woman in my life. When our eyes meet across the table, it’s like we both know what secret we’re sharing.

After dinner is done and I’ve cleared the dishes away, Charlene says she’s tired and she’s going to go lie down and take a nap. I can still smell the booze on her from here, so I know she’s nursing a nasty hangover and that she’ll probably be down for the count for quite a while.

Or at least I hope she will be!

As if she’s having the same thoughts, Amelia stands up with a mischievous glint in her eye as soon as her mom has shuffled off to bed.

She takes my hand and leads me to the back porch where she reveals a surprise by spreading a picnic blanket out among blankets of stars and fireflies that are blinking in the night sky, because it’s already gotten dark while we were eating.

I sit down in awe of the scene before me. She brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses. We begin talking and laughing as we enjoy each other’s company against the backdrop of a glimmering horizon.

“You know, we never got to have desert,” I tell her suggestively after a little while.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” she says. “I was making some pie but my mom’s attitude kind of dampened the mood and I hadn’t yet felt like finishing it. Plus, the meal was so filling I didn’t yet think you’d be ready for dessert…”

“That’s okay,” I tell her, pulling her closer to me and kissing her soft, full lips. “I was thinking of eating your pie for dessert, actually.”

“Oh!” she says, and laughs nervously as she tries to peer inside the window as if to make sure her mother is really asleep. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“It depends on which head of mine you’re asking,” I tell her, as I slip my hand underneath her dress and feel my way along the lining of her underwear. “Because one of them thinks it’s not. But the other one thinks it is.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, as she grabs ahold of my cock from the outside of my pants. “Would this be the head that thinks it’s a good idea? Is that the one I should talk to?”

“I think so,” I tell her, as I slip my fingers into the soft folds of her pussy. “Because this cock head of mine really likes when you touch it like this.”

It feels like Heaven as I push my way inside her pussy, feeling along inside her warm, wet walls while she rubs my cock through the fabric of my pants, making it even harder than it already was for her.

“Well, I’d like to tell this cock head of yours that I’ve been wanting to touch it all night,” she says, her strokes getting longer, faster and harder. “I couldn’t wait for my mom to leave so that I could jerk you off like this.”

“Oh, you bad, bad girl,” I say, pinching her clit hard enough that she jumps a bit. “You really shouldn’t be playing with your stepfather’s cock while your mom is just inside the house.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she says, giving me that bratty-looking little pout that I love. “I just can’t help it. I miss your big cock so much whenever it’s not in me.”

“Well, you really shouldn’t let me play with this hot little cunt of yours while your mom is right inside the house,” I tell her. “And you shouldn’t let me eat it like I want to do, either. Because what if she comes out here and your little legs are spread wide open for me and my lips are wrapped around this hard little nub of yours I’m playing with?”

“Oh, Daddy, then I’d be such a bad girl.”

She’s so wet that her juices are dripping out onto my hand as I play with her. I shove another finger further up inside her, stretching her little hole wide open and remembering how good it felt to fuck it.

I can’t wait to eat it now. There will be no stopping me. I reach up with my other hand and pinch her nipple through the fabric of the lightweight sweater she’d wearing over her thin dress.

“You’ll have to let your daddy punish his little brat,” I tell her, and at that she opens her legs wider for me, as if inviting me to. “And then you’ll have to let him eat your pie, to praise you for being such a good girl and letting him do whatever he wants to you.”

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” she says, as liquid gushes out of her hole now, drenching me with wetness as she cums. “Please eat my pie. You make me feel like the luckiest little girl in the world, and I’ll be forever thankful.”

You haven’t seen anything yet, I think, because I plan to make her feel this good every day for the rest of my life, even if her mom is waiting inside to make my life a living hell out of jealousy and spite.

Nothing and no one can stop me from being with Amelia because I’m the one who feels lucky and grateful to have found her, and now I’m never going to let her go.

***

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