Motherly Instinct by ImpregTA

Motherly Instinct by ImpregTA

Explore the depths of desire in "Motherly Instinct," an adult sex story that delves into taboo themes and complex emotions. Experience an erotic journey filled with passion, longing, and unexpected connections. Perfect for readers seeking a provocative and thrilling narrative. Read now!<br/> Author’s Note: I tend to enjoy writing things which are very long, or have a lot of backstory, in order to breathe a little more life into my characters. I think this makes the characters, and therefore the story, more engaging and enjoyable, but it tends to bog down my creative process. For this story, I limited myself to 2,750 words, or about ten double-spaced pages in my word processor. I hope this will help me to write shorter, but equally enjoyable stories, happy reading!

All participants in this story are over the age of 18.

Brrrng!

Jenna snapped her attention up from her book, the landline was ringing in the kitchen. Shit. She thought, jumping to her feet and racing to pick up the receiver.

She’d only just successfully put her baby step-sister down for a late-afternoon nap, and this noise was tempting to shatter the serenity which had at last greeted her.

Brrrng!

Another urgent interjection from the kitchen, which she almost overshot. Sliding on the hardwood floor in her socks, she skidded to a halt, arresting herself on the beige molding of the doorframe.

Brrrng!

She cursed as she scrambled to the phone, snatching it up and pulling it to her ear breathlessly, shoving aside her shoulder-length, dirty-blonde hair to get to it.

“Hello?” She tried to keep her voice down, listening carefully for any noise at all from the baby.

“Oh hey sweetie.” Jenna bit back the sigh that was begging to leave her lungs.

Her step-mother, Karen, was both literally, and figuratively, a Karen in all senses of the word, and was only a few years older than Jenna. She couldn’t imagine why her father had agreed to marry the bitch, let alone have a daughter with her.

“I was expecting your dad to be home already-” Jenna grimaced, Karen acted like her father was on a leash, or should be honorbound to check in whenever she even thought about it.

“He’s not, just me and the baby here.” A pause from the other end of the phone, then a brief sigh.

“Okay, Jenny-” Karen began.

“It’s Jenna, for the last time.” Jenna interjected with a cruel twist to her mouth as she did so. She’d gone by Jenny for a while, but had changed her nickname, in part to trip her new step-mom up a year ago.

“They’re both short for Jennifer but okay.” Jenna imagined Karen throttling the receiver. “Just-” Another sigh. “Just tell your dad I’ll be home late tonight, maybe nine or ten, long day at the office…” She sounded exhausted, and despite their feud, Jenna felt a little bit bad for her. Not much, but a little bit.

“Yeah, sure thing Karen.” The (slightly) older woman must’ve been surprised by her acquiescence.

In truth, it wasn’t the first time that Jenna had felt pity for Karen. They weren’t so far apart in age, or different in temperament. Karen had gotten knocked up on her honeymoon, and had returned, pregnant, to find a surly teenager living in her new home.

The interceding year hadn’t been kind to her either, the pregnancy and delivery with little Macey had been difficult on her, and Jenna likely hadn’t made it any easier (at least until the post-birth era, when she’d started providing childcare in exchange for some spending money).

Karen had been left a little drained from the experience of her first child, and had to go back to her demanding job afterwards, getting very little time to recuperate.

Jenna suspected that her father and step-mom now had a dead bedroom, so she wasn’t even getting dicked down for her trouble.

“Okay, let me know if you need me to pick anything up on my way home…” Jenna replaced the receiver without replying.

Her charity only stretched so far.

Mere moments after settling back in on the couch, lounging with her book, Jenna was once again interrupted by the outside world. She crossed her fingers that her father would be quiet coming in the front door.

“Jenna? Karen? Anyone home?” He instead called loudly from the adjoining entryway.

Jenna jumped to her feet once again, a long-suffering expression fit in place, ahead of time. Sliding into the foyer, she offered her father a glare of reproach.

“It’s naptime, you should know better than to shout like that!” He paused in confusion, jacket half-off, simultaneously bending to undo his shoelaces.

“Do you take scheduled naps now?” He asked.

A sardonic eye-roll was his only reward.

He blinked, then realization crossed his face. “Oh, the baby, that makes a lot more sense.”

She snorted. “It seems like I spend more time with Karen’s kid than you do sometimes…” Her words drew a scowl from her father as he kicked off his dress shoes, and shrugged his jacket to a pile on the floor.

“That ‘kid’ is your sister. She’s all of our kid, young lady.” He shifted his briefcase from floor to side table. “And you’re well-compensated for the work that you do, regardless, so I don’t appreciate the attitude.”

Chastened, Jenna crossed her arms across her chest, still visibly annoyed. “I guess I’m going to have to stay Mom for a little while longer tonight. Your wife called, and she’s going to be very late.” Her father sighed, straightening up to look at her, taking her in with a shrewdness only he could muster.

“Where are your pants?” He queried.

Jenna looked down, realizing she sported only a tank top and a set of soft, pastel green panties. She’d just greeted her father at the door in her skivvies.

“Baby vomit.” She spoke dismissively, but felt a flush traveling up her neck. She knew he was going to make fun of her for it.

“I can’t say I mind the concept, but it would be more appropriate for Karen to perform that particular motherly duty.” He grinned, letting her off with only that minor needling as he brushed past her.

The suggestive nature of the comment gave her pause and think on the precise nature of her displeasure for a spare few moments.

The concept of motherhood itself isn’t what was bothering her. She didn’t mind taking care of Macey, and wouldn’t normally have taken issue with it, given that she was (as they continued to remind her at every juncture) getting paid for it.

Indeed, she knew for a fact, from her first year of college that the actual process of becoming a mother (i.e. sex) was something she actively enjoyed.

It was Karen in particular that caused her such consternation. The woman seemed to be constantly oscillating between annoying and pitiful, either always whining about how hard her life was, or suffering in marital silence, and merely implying it (despite her father making enough to pay for their lifestyle).

She followed him to the kitchen, where he was rummaging through the fridge in search of a snack. She leaned up against the counter behind him, adopting an air of casual ease.

“Dad, do you mind if I ask you something?” She inquired, trying to remain nonchalant.

“Mmmphgh.” He replied, mouth clamped around an apple as he turned towards her. He was broad-shouldered, the image of a salaryman, still wearing his formal trousers, button-down and tie, a contrast to her slight figure in just her underwear.

“It’s been a year, do you still love Karen?” She saw his eyes flash with anger at the question. He’d always encouraged her to bond with her step-mother.

“I’m not giving attitude!” She added hastily. “I’m just curious as to what you see when you look at her…” He reached up to dislodge the fruit inhibiting his speech.

“Jenna.” He began. “You know I love your step-mom. Why would you even ask that?” An easily predictable answer.

“You know, I mean, I thought marriage had a lot of dimensions, not just love, but like, physical attraction and maybe more kids and stuff?” She spotted a microsecond hesitation on his part.

“Hey, I’m still very attracted to Karen. Stop that, Jenna.” She could tell he was uncomfortable.

“But you guys haven’t been trying for another baby?” She struck out at the unspoken portion of his sentence, sensing weakness.

“That’s not really something you should know.” He admonished, pursing his lips as he put his back against the granite of the counter across from her.

“Would be hard not to know.” Jenna winked impishly at him. “She’s a bit of a screamer, and the walls are thin.” She pinched her fingers a millimeter from one another, as if to demonstrate their thinness.

“We’ve-” He paused, then cleared his throat before continuing. “Jennifer. Karen and I have come to an agreement, after the first pregnancy was so hard on her-” Jenna interrupted him, mid-‘dad lecture’.

“She doesn’t want to because she’s scared.” Blunt, to the point, a fine riposte. Her dad paused for a moment, as if struck.

“Maybe she is, but that’s normal. She doesn’t need to even want another kid for me to be interested in her-” She cut him off again, slowly leaving the counter she was leaning against to approach him.

“But you do, Dad.” He didn’t deny her words. Step by barefoot step, she crossed the distance and smoothed out the front of his shirt, caressing his pectorals in the process. “Don’t you want to be with someone who wants the same thing?” He put his hand out, trying to avoid touching her, trying to create distance, but succeeding only in clasping the bare skin of her shoulder.

“Jenna. You can’t-” She reached up to grasp the knot of his tie, applying light pressure to pull his face towards her upturned mouth (which he resisted).

“Don’t you deserve to be with someone who needs the same thing? Someone who will give you baby, after baby, after baby?” It was a clumsy seduction, she knew, but she had a hunch that he wasn’t exactly the most resistant to the idea. Karen was an ice-cold bitch, he probably hadn’t had anyone talk even semi-dirty to him in a long, long time.

He tried to say something else, but she increased the pressure on her father’s tie, dragging him down into the soft embrace of her kiss. She opened herself to him, inviting his tongue into her mouth to exchange their saliva, to tempt him with the softness of her coed lips.

For a moment, she felt he would pull away, chastise her, kick her out, whatever. Then the last resonation of his resistance exited his body, and he wrapped his arms around his first daughter, pulling her nearly-naked body against him with the passion and excitement of a younger man.