This is a story about how I took my daughter’s boyfriend away from her. Now you are probably saying to yourself “How could you do such a thing to your own daughter?” or something similar. But before you rush to judgment on my parenting skills, let me tell you a little something about my sweet, loving daughter.

Stacy is a seventeen-year-old, hateful, spoiled rotten little bitch. The only child of a failed marriage, she plays upon her circumstances to get what she wants. Her father and I had her before we realized that our marriage was doomed, and now she uses that as a means to control her father and me.

Roger and I met through a mutual friend at a party she was throwing. Jennifer, our friend, was always throwing parties; she loved socializing and being in a crowd. And it was at one of her famous parties that I met Roger.

We hit it off right away and at first, things were great with us. The sex was amazing and Roger was so sweet. We had a whirlwind romance, just like a fairy tale, and a few short months later we were married. I was twenty-one years old, and Roger was twenty-five. We had been married for a little over three years, I guess when Stacy was born.

But having Stacy somehow changed Roger. I can’t explain it other than he slowly became more distant, more goal-orientated. He was obsessed with work and spent more and more time at the office. He started going in early and working late into the evening. When he did come home, he was so tired that more times than not, he’d fall asleep in his chair. I would ask him when he came home if he wanted dinner, but he’d usually say he was too tired to eat or that he picked something up from the office.

Sex for us became nearly non-existent. I would take care of my own needs as best I could. I bought myself a couple of plastic boyfriends so that I could have a little excitement once in a while. But they were a poor substitute for the real thing.

Finally, it became more than I could take, and when Stacy was seven years old, we divorced. It had been ten years of marriage and seven years of hell. The divorce didn’t set well with any of us, but it hit poor Stacy hardest of all. She couldn’t understand why Mommy and Daddy now lived in different towns. I had moved to a neighboring city to get a fresh start, but we were still close enough that I kept a lot of the same friends (like Jennifer) and Stacy could see her father when it was his turn to have her. Roger and I were sociable, for Stacy’s sake, but we were never close like we once were.

Now that Stacy was a teenager, she had the typical teen problems and concerns, but she also had this attitude – I blame her father more than her. I know that he has his new girlfriend (she isn’t that much older than Stacy herself!) and he is forever talking me down, telling his girlfriend how much of a pain in the ass I used to be ... how I would never give him what he needed as a husband and a man ... blah, blah, blah. Well, that’s his opinion and he’s entitled to it even if it’s all wrong. The problem is that Stacy would hear his bad-mouthing too and she got confused as to who the “bad guy” was.

She had developed this Little Miss Bitch attitude; “You can’t do anything to me or I will just go live with Dad and Angela” she would threaten me all the time. And I didn’t want that because I knew that he would only want her to hurt me, he didn’t really want a teen-aged daughter around cramping his style!

One day I came home from work and found Stacy and her current boyfriend, some leather jacket-wearing hoodlum named Johnny, sitting in the living room kissing and cuddling and pawing each other like they were starving for it. I ignored them and took the sack of groceries I had picked up on the way home to the kitchen.

“Stacy, there’s another bag in the car, would you go get it for me? I have to get dinner going,” I said.

She just blew me off giggling and kissing on Johnny some more. “Stacy, please go get the groceries out of the car,” I repeated.

“As if!” she sneered, giggling to Johnny, who chuckled along with her.

Fuck it, I’ll do it myself as always, I thought to myself. As I walked past the two of them I heard her say, in her usual snotty manner, “Did you pick up my cigarettes?”

“You know I don’t want you smoking, Stacy. It’s a filthy, disgusting habit” I said.

“Well, Dad lets me smoke! He even buys my cigarettes for me. God, Mom, you are such a bitch at times!” she said.

With that, I left the room heading to get the groceries out of the car. I could hear them laughing at me in the kitchen, but I didn’t care. Okay, I cared, but I wasn’t going to let her know that her words hurt. When I came back in with the second bag, Johnny was just getting ready to leave.

“Well, babe I gotta run. I’m meeting Billy and Pete and we’re gonna get some beer,” he said.

“Do you have to go? You’re gonna leave me alone with her?” she said, nodding her head to me as I made dinner in the kitchen.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. After he left, Stacy stormed off to her room, pissed off that I apparently ruined her evening of making out and who knows what else!

A couple of days went by, and I was at home cleaning. It was my day off work, and Stacy was out with one of her girlfriends when Johnny came by the house.

“Hi, Ms. Peterson, is Stacy home?” he asked.

“No, Johnny, she’s out with some of her friends,” I said.

“Oh, okay then,” he said and turned to leave.

“Wait a minute Johnny, can I talk to you for a second?” I asked.

“Um ... I guess, sure.”

“Come on in, I’ll get us a couple of drinks. Want a beer?” I asked.

“Sure...” he said, looking a bit bewildered. I got a couple of beers and brought them to the living room where Johnny was sitting. He was sitting on the sofa, on the edge of his seat, as if he was ready to bolt at any second.

“Relax Johnny, I just want to talk to you. Now you and Stacy have been seeing each other for a while, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah, for a couple of months or so, why?” he asked.

“Well, I think it’s a good thing, you and her getting together. I mean after some of the other bums and losers she has dragged home, it’s nice to see her with a decent guy,” I said. This was total bullshit - Johnny was every bit the shiftless loser asshole the others had been. But I had a plan to get even with my bitch of a daughter and teach her lesson - not to mess with Mama!

“Really?” he said, stunned that I had actually given him a compliment.

“Sure, You should see some of the low-life scum she has brought home. Some of them look like they hadn’t had a bath since their mama’s water broke!” I said. He looked at me still a bit off-balance from my wanting to talk to him. I decided to make my move before he figured things out.

“You like my daughter, don’t you, Johnny?” I said.

“Sure, of course, I do.”

“She has a hot little body doesn’t she?” I said.

“Umm ... I guess so, yeah,” he said. I could see he was getting a bit uneasy at this, so I tried to get him to relax.

“It’s okay, Johnny, Stacy and I have our differences, but we talk sometimes too – especially about boys and stuff,” I said, smiling. This made him feel a little better. I decided he was ready for more.

“You know, Johnny...” I said, scooting closer to him, “she gets her looks and her body from me.”

“S-she does?”

“Mmmhmm...” I said, unbuttoning a couple of buttons on the light sweater I was wearing. As the cool room air hit my freshly exposed skin, it made my nipples rock hard very quickly and he could see everything!

Johnny was starting to fidget in his seat and took another swig of beer just because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. I smiled to myself, knowing I was getting to him now.

I noticed that talking about my body and my nipples had drawn his eyes down to my tits. He seemed fascinated with my 36DD’s, so I used his focus.

“Do you want to see?” I asked.

“W-what?” he said, shocked that I would offer something like that.

“It’s okay, Johnny. You are dating my daughter, don’t you want to see what’s in store for you?” I said, “Like the old saying goes, if you want to see what your wife will look like later on, look at her mother!”

I finished unbuttoning my sweater and opened it to show him my tits. “What do you think? Tell me, Johnny, do you like them?” I asked.

“I-I ... When is Stacy supposed to be home?” he said, trying to get his head back on straight. I wasn’t going to let him.

“Don’t worry about her, she won’t be back for hours. Besides, why worry about a girl when you have a woman right here in front of you!” I said. “Go ahead, touch them. Feel how firm they are. I take good care of myself, Johnny ... I could ... show you.”

I took hold of the huge bulge my teasing had grown in his pants. I squeezed it and felt it twitch in my grip. I began slowly stroking it as I leaned over and gave him a long kiss. At first, he wasn’t too sure, but my hand on his cock soon clouded any judgment he may have had and his basal instincts overrode any hesitation. He was a man, and an immature one too – he thought with his cock and I had control of that!

He leaned forward and sucked one of my hard nipples into his mouth and I grabbed the back of his head pushing his face harder onto my tit. His mouth did feel good suckling me, I will give him that!

“Oh fuck Johnny ... that feels wonderful, baby!” Without letting him off my tit, I moved around to straddle his lap. I began grinding on his hard cock through his jeans. I wanted him to know I had the moves as well as the body! I put my arms around his neck, playing with his hair as he sucked on my tits, switching sides every so often.

After a bit of tit sucking and rocking on his cock, the young man was ready for the next step. I pulled away, acting as though I was on fire too (and to be fair, I wasn’t too far from it!) and I stood up.

“C’mon, baby, I want to show you what a woman feels like!” I said. He followed me like a puppy on a leash as we walked hand in hand to the bedroom.

Once we got to the bedroom, I shut the door behind us. I took him over to the bed, and with a gentle but insistent push with my fingertips, sat him on the edge of the bed. I walked a few steps away and turned around, locking eyes with him. He sat there on the bed, totally engrossed as he watched me begin my little striptease.

It was flattering knowing that this young man, who was actually fairly good looking, to be honest, was so into watching me. It made me want to give him a good show ... even though I was doing this to teach my ungrateful daughter a lesson, I still wanted him to realize that us “mature” women still had something to give as well.

In my younger days, I used to do little stripteases for Roger from time to time and even took a class on stripping. Well, actually it was supposed to be an “exercise dance” class, but it involved the same movements and grinding that a stripper does, only without removing the clothes!

It was put on by a retired professional Las Vegas stripper. I enjoyed dancing for Roger and, although it had been a few years since I had an appreciative audience to dance to, I picked up the moves pretty quickly and Johnny didn’t know the difference. His main focus was on seeing me reveal more and more skin – he didn’t really care how!

I slowly took the sweater and my bra and tossed it at him. He smiled at that and set the top on the bed next to him. Then I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my skirt and wriggled my hips out of it letting the skirt slide down my long legs to puddle around my ankles. Stepping out of it with one foot, I used the other to toss the skirt in a corner of the room. I was left in nothing but my skimpy panties.

Even though I was a mother now and not the young twenty-something I used to be, I still held out and refused to wear women’s brief-style underwear or “granny panties”. I still wore the bikini panties that I had always worn ... I wasn’t ready to be that grownup!

And judging from the wide grin on Johnny’s face, I didn’t need to, either. I stood there in front of the leering young man as he looked me over, undressing me the rest of the way with his eyes and licking his lips in lustful anticipation.

“Come over here and let me take those panties off you!” he said.

“So you think you can boss me around and treat me like you treat my daughter do you?” I said, acting all high and mighty, as I stepped closer to him, “I’m not a starry-eyed teenager you can make your little slut.”

“Fuck her! I’m tired of Stacy’s crap. She bores me. I want a real woman. I want someone who knows how to treat me right without all the childish whining and shit!” he said. He reached out and grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer until I was standing right in front of him.

Looking up and watching me for my reaction, he slid his hands up my arms and then back down the sides of my body until he reached the waistband of my panties. Smiling wickedly, he began sliding them down my hips and then down my legs. He never looked down but kept his eyes on my face.

I tried not to let him see it, but inside, his cocky self-confident bearing was making me wet! As he took hold of my panties, I bit the corner of my lower lip and as my panties slid down I took a deep breath.