Where it happened: His bedroom
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 4
Category: Straight
First of all I should warn everybody that I wrote this story originally for an English assignmen so it will not contain any dirty words or juicy details of licking, sucking, etc. The English class assignment was to write about “The Finest Person I Know,” so I wrote about Mitchell “Big Mitch” Redmond. And while I do have my first sex experience in the story that is not the main purpose for it so if all you’re looking for is to get an erection, skip this one.
I’m writing it for this page in addition to the English class because the man I’m writing about is such a good man I want lots of people to know about him.
(However, it should be grammatically correct and well spelled, if you’re one of those who have complained about such matters.)
My story:
Mom was 15 when she had me. My father was an older man who had no idea of marrying her, but he did provide child support for three years, until the D.A. decided the quick-money pyramid scheme Dad was involved in was illegal, and my father left town, never to be heard from again.
I asked Mom once to tell me something about my father and she said, “Well, he could charm the birds out of the trees, but that’s about all he was good for.”
When she was 18 and the child support stopped, Mom’s parents, my grandparents, threw her out on her own. She got a job as a waitress and began a series of short-lived affairs. Mom was a beautiful woman and could have had some very worth while men, but she had this weakness for men like my father, charming but with no character.
When I was nine Mom broke up with the latest of the charmers. She moved our clothes out of his apartment, took a room in a motel, left me some money to get snacks from the vending machines and went out on a tear. She ended up passed out cold in a bar at closing time. The bartender was going to just throw her out, but Mitch was there, nursing a quiet beer, and he was taken by Mom’s beauty.
He shook her to ask where she lived and managed to get an answer, “I’ve got no home.” So Mitch said she could come with him, and put her in his pickup truck. As he was driving away Mom came to enough to tell him about me in the motel, he wheeled around to the motel, picked me and our clothes up and took us to his house.
At this time Mitch was 34. He was six feet tall and powerfully built, but like many very strong men he was very gentle. He was an engineer with a big construction company and a bachelor. He had had a wife but she had died of a rare blood disease.
He carried Mom in the house and laid her on a bed. I followed him in. He asked if I was hungry, I said I was, and he fixed me a plate of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes, with a large glass of milk. Then he brought our clothes in, found a nightgown for Mom, undressed her and gently put the nightgown on her and tucked her in under the covers. Then we found my pajamas, he helped me put them on, then tucked me in beside Mom. He told me to let him know if Mom woke up, then gently kissed me good night, and I was immediately in love with him.
The next day was Sunday and he didn’t have to go to work so he spent all day taking car of Mom and me. In the morning he got her to drink some hot coffee and got a little food down her before she went back to sleep. Then he asked me about our situation, and I told him as best I could. He also fixed me a nice breakfast, then lunch and later dinner.
In the evening when Mom was pretty well recovered from her drinking spree and hangover, he had a serious talk with her, with me listening. He told her she could live with him as long as she wanted to and he would ask nothing of her, but the one provision was that she must give up drinking. I said, “Oh please, Mommy agree. You must agree.” She smiled a faint smile and said, “All right, it’s a deal.”
And for three years, for the first time in her life, my mother was happy with a good man. Of course she and Mitch became lovers and she became a good home maker and took good care of him. But they couldn’t get married because Mom had a dim memory of being on a spree with one of her former lovers and ending up before a justice of the peace and saying some words, so she was afraid she was already married.
They put me in school and took wonderful care of me. Then when I was 12 Mom was taking Mitch his lunch and was driving too fast – one trait from her former life she hadn’t overcome. A little kid started to run into the street,she swerved to avoid him, lost control of the car, hit a tree, was thrown out and instantly killed. Mitch and I were both devastated of course. He arranged a very nice funeral and had her buried in a beautiful plot in a scenic cemetary. He had called my grandparents, who hadn’t had anything to do with Mom while she as “living in sin,” they came to the funeral, saw what a good man Mitch was and posthumously forgave Mom for living with him. And they accepted me with love as their grandchild.
Afterward Mitch and I were trying to put our lives back together and I said,”I guess I will have to go live with grandma and grandpa now,” and he said, “Oh please, no, you mustn’t leave me. I couldn’t stand to lose both of you.”
So I stayed on with him, calling him my stepfather, and he treated me like a daughter. He bought me a bike and helped me learn to ride it, made kites and taught me how to fly them and helped me with my school work.
He went to all my school affairs as my stepfather and helped with school fund raising programs, became a volunteer coach of the girls’ soccer team I was on, and was in every way a helpful parent.
Then this year, my 17th, I got in with three other kids who were just a little wild — not juvies, just a little out of line. One of them got hold of some marijuana, we went down into the school basement and began smoking it, the janitor saw us and called the principal. He took us in his office and called our parents.
Mitch came and got me and drove me home, looking very grim. I tried a couple of times to explain we hadn’t done anything so terrible, but he just looked straight ahead.
Then when we got home he took me in the house, laid me over his lap and spanked me, the first time he had ever done that, and oh, it hurt. I was begginmg him to stop and then I heard him making a strange noise and I looked up and he was crying.
I sat up and put my arms around him and said, “Please don’t cry, Mitch. I’ll never do it again. Please, Mitch, I’m sorry. Please dont cry.”
He wiped his eyes and blew his nose and said, “Oh God, I was so frightened. I was afraid you were starting out the way your mother did.”
I promised him I would never be like she had been, and said, “I love you, Mitch, I don’t want to hurt you, ever.” He said, “And I love you, dear one.”
We hugged each other and suddenly I realized that I wanted this man, I mean I wanted him to make love to me. And I could feel that he wanted me, too. I gave him a very warm kiss and he kissed me back and I said, “It’s all right, Mitch. Mom won’t be unhappy. In fact, she’ll be happy for us.”
He said, “Yes, I think she will be.”
And he carried me to his bed, undressed me very gently and very gently made love to me for the first time. I am not going into juicy details, but it was wonderful.
So for now he is still my stepfather, but in three months and ten days — when I am 18 and can marry without parental consent (for how in the heck could I get parental consent) I will be Mrs. Mitch Redmond, the wife of the finest person I know.
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