Secret Roleplay With StepDaddy at the Park
T. A. BEAU
Secret Roleplay With StepDaddy at the Park
T. A. BEAU
A short pseudoincest erotica story with public fun and lots of praising.
Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.
WORD COUNT: 3000 words
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I’ve been jogging this trail every morning for months, and every morning, I see the same things. The hummingbird on the bird feeder by the fountain. The mom with the pink stroller. The couple getting coffee on the bench by the pond. And, my favorite sight of all—Orange Hat Guy.
Tall, tanned, a modern Adonis in tight jogging shorts and an obnoxious orange hat, he slows down on the trail, smiling and waving as he passes. His long legs carry him past me in two strides, but before he’s out of sight, I turn and catch a glimpse of his ass in bright blue shorts. It’s so firm, a girl could bounce a quarter off his firm cheeks.
Oh, did I mention that he is also my step-daddy, Cole?
It's a game we've been playing for months now whenever our schedules align and we are both home for the day, pretending to be strangers passing by each other on our usual morning route. Only this route was pre-planned; even the hot sex in public.
It's taboo, sure, but part of the thrill too.
I catch myself drooling over a daydream of him and I behind a bush and break my stride. I slow down to a brisk walk, catching my breath—our sign that I'm up for some naughty fun. I take a seat on the grassy hill and watch as other joggers and park-goers pass me by, pretending to be none-the-wiser about what's about to happen next.
I love roleplaying.
Orange Hat Guy, aka Cole, takes a second lap and spots me, waving at me as he jogs over. He reaches me in moments and gestures to my outstretched leg.
“Everything all right?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just needed to take a breather.”
“Catch your breath yet?”
“Why?”
“I was hoping you’d join me for a lap,” he says, cocking his head toward the trail.
“You were?”
“Of course. A little competition is good for you.”
“Competition?”
“Let’s race. The loser buys lunch, and the winner gets to choose where.” He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet, laughing as I stumble. I tumble into his arms, and he pulls me close to his sweaty chest.