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Growin’ up, I could always see the way Step Dad looked at me. Them hungry eyes roamin’ over my nubile body, pausin’ to linger on my pert breasts and round ass. I knew he wanted me something fierce, but he held back, tryin’ to be a proper man of the house. But things changed when I turned eighteen. I was a woman now, with needs a-plenty. And Step Dad, well, he was just a man tryin’ to keep up with his wild, adopted daughter. I started temptin’ him like a snake charmer, prancin’ around in my tight little shorts and crop tops. Leaving my door ajar, the zipper on my sleeping bag pulled down just so, invitin’ him to sneak a peek at my barely-there pj’s. One fateful Sunday, with the family gathered for dinner, I knew it was now or never. As we sat down to eat, I made sure to brush up against Step Dad every chance I got. When I leaned over to grab the mashed potatoes, I made sure to press my breasts against his arm, my nipples hard and pokin’ through the thin fabric of my tank top. He shot me a warning glance, but

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