Sweeter Temptation - Cover

Sweeter Temptation

Copyright© 2016 by Bugby

Chapter 2

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Continuation of Sweet Temptation by Veritas. Picks up exactly where that story left off. Mr. Craft thinks he is a good man until a late night encounter with Cindy.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Interracial   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Voyeurism  

The morning after I ... Well, after I ejaculated onto the stomach of a fourteen year old while she bared her breasts kneeling in front of me. Saying it in the cold light of day makes it seem far worse than it did, even at the time. The morning after that, I slept in late. In part because I was physically and emotionally exhausted and in part because I expected to find police waiting in my kitchen whenever I finally got up to face the day.

Eventually I was forced out of bed by my wife, who reminded me that I was expected to take our son to his soccer practice at eleven. I got myself out of bed and found that the world was more or less uncaring of the life-changing events that had overtaken me the night before. No police arrived, Brian Johnson didn't break down our door, shotgun in hand, and blast a hole in my chest for violating his young daughter.

I did my level best to play along with the world, I took Joshua to soccer, went shopping as directed in the afternoon and went through all the same motions I had in the weekends leading up to this one. Although, unlike last weekend, when I was eventually the last person awake in the apartment and a few scotches to the good, after an evening of mindless movie watching with the family, I found myself masturbating not to my usual staple internet pornography but rather to the images of Cindy Johnson that I knew would be forever burned on my brain.

The darling little teen pushing up her top, exposing her breasts to someone for the first time. To me. The coy look in her eyes as she met my ravenous gaze. The way her indecently small shorts clung to the perfect globes of her ass, the seam pressing up between her lips.

I came almost as hard as I had the night before, if more silently and more controlled.

Once I was spent I made my way to bed, pretty hopeful that I had escaped any terrible repercussions for my actions. I rationalized that it had been the fault of the drink I'd had the night before, that I'd never allow myself to lose control like that again.

As I shut off all the lights on the way to the bedroom I paused by the front window and pulled the curtain aside, looking across the way to the Johnson's apartment. I looked for a minute, but saw nothing except a dark pane of glass staring back at me.


By the middle of the next week I had all but conquered my worries about my moment of indiscretion. Work at the agency was picking up, preparing to pitch for a couple of large firms, stretching our small team to it's limit. In order to show willing I had to be prepared to be the first to work in the morning at the last to leave at night. It wasn't ideal, but my wife and I both understood that it was only temporary, and the financial benefits would be worth it in the long run.

I saw my children only fleetingly, eating my dinner alone at the kitchen table when I arrived home, usually well past 9pm. They'd sit briefly, tell me about their days and I would nod dutifully, doing my best to be an engaged parent. Joshua was in some sort of a feud with his best friend, Emilia was excited about joining the volleyball team. At least as far as I remember.

Two weeks later the crunch at work was done, the partners had departed for LA to meet with our clients and everyone in the office was breathing a sigh of relief, myself included. On Wednesday, with no supervisor around to frown down upon me I announced to the staff that I would be working from home for the rest of the week.

Working from home, at least for me, is a euphemism for doing as little as possible and going a whole day without leaving the house. I spent Thursday morning in bed once the house was empty, watching porn. My tastes of late, somewhat predictably, had tended towards older men fucking younger women. Though more often than not I ended up using the videos as a starting point, the fantasies in my head quickly progressing to the many different ways Imaginary Me, who was in no way a good man, would use and abuse young Cindy.

By mid afternoon I was up and about, although still resolutely inside the home. I sat at the kitchen table, checking my work emails, declining to reply to all but the most genuinely urgent. The front door clattered as one of the kids arrived back from school. There was bustling in the living room for a few minutes but the TV wasn't turned on. I knew eventually the kids would have to pass me on their way to their rooms, so I remained at my 'desk', content to let them come to me.

Emilia entered the kitchen behind me shortly after. She was an enthusiastic girl at all times but today she was even more bubbly than usual. She ran up behind me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Hey Daddy, I forgot you were spending the day at home." She carried on, talking excitedly, not wanting any sort of response from me but appreciative nods and grunts. "We got our uniforms for the team today, They're awesome. We're just going to go to my room and unpack them. Want to see what they look like?"

I grunted affirmatively.

"Sure Emm. Go get changed..." I brought myself up short. "Who's we, do we have a guest?" I turned in my chair and the world swam a little. Standing next to my daughter, having her beat in height by a few inches and in pure, dizzying, sexiness by light years, was Cindy Johnson. I must have gawped open mouthed, I know I certainly didn't speak.

Cindy smiled sweetly, and her cheeks flushed a little. Her hair was pulled back into a french plait and in the daylight it looked a lot closer to dark blonde than light brown. That certainly wasn't the only change in her appearance. She had abandoned the tomboy aesthetic. Her body, which I had studied so raptly a few weeks before, was no longer hidden under jerseys and baggy jeans. She was wearing a pair of pale blue denims that hugged her legs all the way up her calves and her firm toned thighs, even leaving a delectable gap in the space between those thighs. They were low waisted and a thin sliver of the teen's flat stomach was visible between the jeans and her top.

The top in question clung to the girl's amazing body at least as tightly as the denims did. It was a bluey-grey color and started at the point where Cindy's waist was narrowest, it had long tight sleeves and the stretchy cotton material moulded to the girl's breasts perfectly, presenting them up incredibly invitingly.

I took all this in pretty quickly, and under the table I could feel my cock twitching already, but I wasn't quick enough to not seem a little odd. My daughter was at pains to point this out immediately.

"Jeez Dad, no need to stare. You know Cin, she only lives across the way. She joined the team last week. We're all super happy to have her."

Cindy grinned, most probably at my awkwardness, and lowered her eyes, pushing her hair back over her right ear.

"Umm, hi Mr. C. It's nice to see you again I guess." She mumbled, before Emilia took her hand and led her off to her bedroom to try on their new Volleyball uniforms.

"We'll come show you them when we're changed Dad." She yelled over her shoulder. "They've got our numbers on and the school name and everything. You'll love them." She promised, unnecessarily.

I sat, a little shell-shocked. Half of my brain was telling me to get up and leave the apartment, make any sort of excuse, or none at all, get out and stay out until Cindy was safely out of reach. The other half of my head was far less cautious. The teenager looked even better today, seeing her again just made me want her more, to cup that sweet face between my large hands as I kissed those soft lips. To run my hands up that smooth skin and under her top. And she hadn't run screaming from the room when she'd seen me. In fact, my bad side reasoned, she had come to my home knowing full well that she might run in to me again. Maybe she wanted to see me. This last thought made me giddy, my pulse thumping in my ears.

My internal argument was all for nothing shortly anyway, I'd taken too long considering what to do anyway and the choice was made for me. I could hear the girls emerging from Emilia's room down the hall, I was trapped.

Emm came bounding into the kitchen first and did a dramatic twirl. Her uniform looked adorable on her, but no more than that. My daughter was still a little girl, and beside that she would always be a part of me. The shorts may have been a little tighter than I would normally be happy with, but at that moment objecting would be hypocritical of me.

Cindy, or Cin as she was apparently now called, followed her, walking slowly, head down, half covering her face with one hand. The coy mannerisms, along with the very nature of the way her body looked in the volleyball uniform was enough to make my dick a rod of iron under the kitchen table.

The uniform was pretty standard for the sport. Short shorts and a close fitting sleeveless jersey. The shorts were blue and almost as tight as the spongebob ones, although the material was more elastic, designed to stretch and move on her pert butt as she darted across the court. The jersey was made of a silky material which hung in some interesting places, draping between Cindy's breasts and falling in shimmering folds from the tops of her mounds. It was a pale yellow color, not a million miles from the shade of the top she'd rolled up to reveal her breasts to me.

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