Faye and I had shared a connection ever since we met. The same music, the same games, the same kinds of boys. We both liked math at school. We’d turned eighteen within three weeks of each other.

Oh, and we shared a deep secret. We both had raging crushes on our step-fathers. Many years as best friends had passed before either of us had dared tell the other, but one late night, while we were hiding in my room with an illicit bottle of red wine, it came out.

We were both tipsy, unused to the alcohol. Already sharing secrets, we took turns. I remember her face when I’d told her I’d wanted to kiss her, like I’d kiss a boy. I did it too. Mostly I like guys, but sometimes you share so much with someone that you need more ways to express how much you love them. She’d taken it well enough, and we’d made out for a while. If I hadn’t chickened out and pulled away, it might even have gone further. The insides of my thighs were damp, and her heavy breaths when we disengaged suggested hers might be too.

Maybe it was the combination of arousal and strong drink, but that night I felt like nothing was off limits. And yet, she’d been the one to lean in and whisper so faintly that I barely heard her, “Kate, I’m in love with Henry.”

Sounds like your typical high school girls sharing their crushes on their classmates, right? It sorta was, except that Henry was her forty-six-year-old step-father. I could definitely see why. He was tall, broad shouldered, fit. His grey-blue eyes were always friendly, and he wore a neatly trimmed, thin beard that tickled when he hugged you. He’d treated Faye like his princess since the day he’d moved in, seven years ago. Only now she wanted to be his queen.

My eyes went wide and my hand went to my mouth. She saw my reaction, and her face fell. I realized she thought I was shocked, maybe condemning her. While I was surprised, she couldn’t be further from the truth. When she tried to explain it away, I interrupted.

“Me too!” She looked at me like I’d just fallen from the moon. “Well, not Henry. He’s handsome and all, but I mean Jeremy. I want him so bad!” That was my step-father, in case that wasn’t clear. My genetic father had packed up and left when I was ten, without so much as a good-bye. We’d never heard from him since, and ever after, I’ve had a hard time even mentioning his name without getting an urge to spit. He’d ruined everything!

Mom and I had been devastated, but then Jeremy came onto the scene. A hardworking construction foreman, and handsome to boot, he’d shown up at just the right time. Not only did he fall head over heels in love with Mom, but he’d treated me as if I were his own since day one. When our lives had broken, he’d picked up the pieces, and a less than a year later, he’d married Mom and moved in.

Something happened to mom after a couple of years, though. I never understood it and still don’t, but it got to the point where everything I did was wrong, and everything wrong was my fault. I think Dad’s abandonment got to her more than we’d thought. She pushed Jeremy away as well, and while he tried for a long time, they separated several years later. Only I didn’t want him to leave. Mom and I had a huge argument about it, and when she told me to go live with him if I liked him so much, I did. She hasn’t called me since.

He’d taken me in with open arms, as much my father then as when he’d lived with us. I couldn’t figure out Mom. He’d made us smile again, and made us more like a family than we’d ever been. As far as I was concerned, he was the father I’d always been meant to have. And yet, she kicked him out.

Somehow, over the months, I began to see him as more than just my dad. Maybe because it was just the two of us, maybe because he deserved what Mom never gave him, or maybe I was just a silly teenager. Either way, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. He was kind. He was really strong, work keeping him fit. He was handsome, or at least I thought so. I began to rub against him, to insist on hugging whenever I could, to rub my face against his five o’clock shadow and look up into his deep brown eyes. The older I got, the more obsessed I’d gotten. But he was always a perfect gentleman.

Wracked with guilt over my feelings, I thought I was insane and depraved. But when my best friend turned out to feel the exact same way, it was as if all my desires were vindicated. I wasn’t alone. Maybe every girl loves her daddy a little like that.

When Faye spilled her guts to me, it wasn’t so much shock that made me react, as the realization that here was another thing we had in common. Her relief when I confided what we shared was palpable. Having struggled with many of the same feelings, she welcomed the validation. From that moment on, once the ice was broken, we spent hours telling each other what we wanted to do to our step-fathers, or have them do to us. But while we loved imagining all sorts of naughty behavior, there was no way we could ever act on it for real. Right?

It was a few days before graduation and we were sitting in my room, talking about college and our summer plans. We had only a few weeks left together before heading to different schools and while it wasn’t like we wouldn’t see each other again, it wouldn’t be nearly as often. Suddenly everything seemed so urgent, including our relationships with our step-daddies. Leaving them would be as hard as leaving each other.

Faye was the one to suggest that we actually do something about it. I looked at her as if she was crazy. For real? We can’t! How? There was no way in hell that they would. But as she usually did, Faye had a plan.

“Think I could seduce your dad?”

“My dad? I thought you wanted your own. Coming for mine as well?” I eyed her playfully. “You greedy bitch.”

“You’re just not getting it because I haven’t explained yet.” Her tone was as if she were talking to a small child. “I’ll use simple words, so you’ll understand.”

I threw a cushion at her, which she knocked out of the air with a well-timed swat. “OK then, O great mistress. Teach me.”

“What do guys dream of, more than anything?” “I dunno. Steak?”

“Hmm... maybe. But I mean sexually.” “Um... blowjobs? Then steak?”

“No no, something much harder to get. Their holy grail. The ultimate bragging right!”

“You’re making shit up now.”

“Two girls.” She grinned. “Two girls at the same time.” “Seriously? That’s your plan? Like you think he’s totally going to go for it, so long as there’re two of us?” “Well, he won’t know one of them is you.” “Um, OK. How do you figure that?”

Her voice went up an octave. “Well, Mr. Richards, you see. My friend? She’s really shy. She’d just die if you knew who she was. But she’d totally be up for it if you would only wear this. And then it’d be just you and two naked, wet, horny girls.”

“And what’s this thing he would wear, then?”

“God, you’re so fucking slow. A blindfold. We’ll get him to wear one.”

I just looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Seriously? Blindfold? That’s crazy.”

“I’m telling you. The power of two. They’ll do almost anything to live out that fantasy.”

“And so he’ll never know that it’s me? I don’t know if that’s what I want either.”

“I think that once he’s so committed that there’s no turning back anyway, we can yank off the blindfold and he’ll be so horny and lusty that there’s no way he’ll pull his beautiful naked daughter off his huge, dripping, swollen, steel hard...”

“OK, OK, I get it. I still say you’re crazy.” “Crazy like a fox. You’ll see.”

“So... when do we do this?”

Faye stood up, tugged her already short skirt just a bit higher and unbuttoned two buttons on her blouse, her bra-encased tits nearly falling out. She’d claimed to be jealous of my larger breasts several times, but hers were so firm and perky that I’d have taken those any day of the week over mine, which just seemed to get in the way. Checking herself out in the mirror, she pulled out a stick of blood red lipstick and applied it, rolling her lips a couple of times before putting it away.

“No time like the present. Showtime.” And then she left my room, leaving me gaping. Seriously? Her feet were light down the stairs, and then I heard her in the kitchen.

“Mr. Richards?”

Their voices got quieter, muffled, so I sneaked over to the top of the staircase, hoping to hear more. I still only got fragments.

“... don’t think... appropriate.” “no... ever know.”

Several sentences passed that I couldn’t make out. “No, Faye.”

“...want to, you need only ask.” Her playful voice came clearer as she was coming toward the stairs.

I darted back into my room and waited. When she came in, her grin was like the cat that got the milk.

“Didn’t sound like you got far. What’s with the smile?”

“He’ll come around. His sexy, sexy mouth said no, but his eyes struggled to ever make it up to meet mine. By the time I left, he was hiding his crotch behind the kitchen island.”

“No way!”

“Totally. On to stage two.” “Which is?”

“You and me, we’re going to totally slut it out when he’s around.” “What?”

“You need to start dressing like you’re available and want him to know it. And keep bumping into him. Rub your skin against his as often as you can. What do you wear at night?”

“Er, t-shirt and PJs, I guess?”

“Switch to just panties under your shirt. Or go without if you dare. I’ll visit every day, and we’re going to keep him on edge until he gives in. He won’t last two weeks!”

The next couple of weeks were among the most fun in my life. Every free moment, we tormented my poor step-daddy. I’d rub against him when we passed each other. I stopped wearing bras at home. I’d lie on my stomach in front of him while watching TV, letting him see right up under my shirt, even if I never dared to lose the panties. I even caught Daddy’s pants tenting a couple of times, bulges filled with promise.

Summer hit for real, and we began to spend time in the pool.

Faye and I bought really skimpy bikinis, and as the days passed, he watched us more and more. He even swam with us a few times and when we weren’t swooning over his rippling muscles and washboard stomach, we made as much body contact as we could. I loved hugging him, mashing my barely-clad breasts into his broad chest, feeling his strong arms around me.

Once Faye slipped behind me and untied my top, causing my large breasts to swing free while she chased me through the water. He probably thought we didn’t know he saw us, but Faye had spotted him peeking out of the upstairs bedroom window. It was that day he broke.

“I gotta pee.” Always the delicate flower, Faye was. “Gonna run up and use the upstairs bathroom. Whatever you do, don’t follow me!”

What the hell was that last about? I flopped onto a sun chair and caught some rays, playing with the idea of removing my top to avoid tan lines. The sun was warm on my skin, and I dozed for a while before I realized that Faye had been gone a long time. A plan. Faye always had a plan, and suddenly I knew what she was at.

Hopping to my feet, I ran in before stopping at the bottom of the stairs. I strained my ears. It was very quiet up there. Too quiet, as they say. With slow, careful steps, I sneaked up the carpeted steps. I was almost on top when I heard it. A moan, masculine and deep.

Holy shit! I tried not to rush the last couple of steps so I could peek down the hallway toward my parents’ room. There it was again!

It was stupid, but I had to see. Like a bikini-clad ninja, I approached the bedroom door. Cracked open, there was barely enough space for me to peek around it. I had to suppress a gasp as I gazed upon the most perfect, tight man ass I’d seen in my life.