INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER – Robert, a 42-year-old married dentist from Sydney Australia knows it is wrong to have a celebrity crush on pretty 18-year-old pop singer/actress/model Maddie Lee, and the situation is made even worse by the fact that Maddie is his stepdaughter, from his wife Karen’s first marriage.
Sating his crush and sexual frustration by voyeurism, Robert’s life takes an unexpected twist when his wife and stepson go to visit relatives interstate, leaving he and Maddie alone in the house together. What will happen between Robert and Maddie? Read this story to find out.
Please note that the story contains voyeuristic themes that include up-skirting, panty sniffing and fetishes about the girl using the toilet and having her periods. If these themes aren’t your thing, this story may not be for you and you may wish to give it a miss. Otherwise, please enjoy and rate and comment. All characters and events are fictional, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional.
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA, 2001
Having a celebrity crush is nothing unusual and completely normal. In fact, it would probably be far rarer to find a person who as a child or teenager didn’t have a celebrity crush on an actor, TV presenter, recording artist or sportsperson.
My celebrity crush however, definitely fell out of what was normal and appropriate. I was a 42-year-old married man who worked as a dentist and I was crushing on a teenage Australian popstar named Madeline Lee Sullivan. Madeline, aged 18 and turning 19 in May, was a stunningly attractive and slim girl with long blonde hair and big blue eyes who at 5 feet 10 was deceptively tall. She was always called Maddie, and she recorded under the name Maddie Lee. Sullivan was a perfectly fine name, but probably not catchy enough for a young teenage popstar.
Maddie’s main market was kids and teenagers, and her cheerful bubblegum pop songs were recorded with brightly colored fun and energetic music videos. I was home early from work and alone in the house in Sydney’s northern suburbs which I shared with my wife and two step kids. I was supposed to be doing some paperwork for the dental practice, but this sat untouched as I instead put one of Maddie Lee’s latest music videos onto the VCR and sat on the couch watching it.
With Sydney having held the Olympic Games six months ago, the capital of New South Wales was highly recognizable and marketable to everyone all over the world. Maddie Lee, her team of dancers both male and female behind her, were performing all over Sydney in a variety of places. They were at Circular Quay, the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House, with the Sydney skyline and scenic harbor waters behind them. Some other clips in the music video were filmed at Newtown, the trendy suburb in Sydney’s inner west with its tight streets and older architecture perfect for an urban setting for one part of the video.
I however, didn’t pay that much attention to the Sydney landmarks, I was too busy looking at Maddie in a variety of brightly colored clothes, although in the scenes shot in Newtown she and her team of dancers were wearing black tee-shirts and jeans to give the urban feel of the music video. Next up was another song filmed at the beach, and I watched Maddie and company dancing around at Bondi Beach, loving the sight of Maddie barefoot and in her pretty pink bikini and other beach attire. My underpants started to feel a bit tight in the groin area.
The pop songs were catchy and likely to get stuck in one’s head, although this wasn’t a bad thing as Maddie looked like an angel and had the voice of an angel too. There were other music videos on the tape, and these weren’t shot in and around Sydney. One was filmed in Queensland, Brisbane and the Gold Coast to be exact with the Brisbane River, Story Bridge and city skyline visible in some scenes, and the Gold Coast skyline and Surfers Paradise beach prominent in others.
Another pop song was filmed down in Melbourne, and Maddie and company were dancing on Southbank on the Yarra River, the Melbourne City skyline with its big skyscrapers, the Flinders Street Station and Princes Bridge all prominent in this video.
The next song was not filmed in a specific location but rather in a studio, and saw Maddie and her dancers dressed in Catholic school uniform. I watched the video intently as Maddie danced on a desk in school, attired in a school blazer, a tie, a tartan schoolgirl skirt that came down to just above her knees, white ankle socks and black Mary Lee shoes. Her hair was in plaited pigtails and she wore a straw boater on her head. The other girls wore similar uniforms, and the boys in the video wore boys’ uniforms.
I felt a bit guilty at being 42-years-old and getting my rocks off perving on a girl dressed in a Catholic school uniform dancing on a desk, but reminded myself that Maddie was 18-years-old when this was filmed and therefore an adult olgun porno and concentrated on watching the rest of the music video, which ended with Maddie and fellow classmates immediately sitting back down in their desks and doing their work before the nun teaching them returned, with no evidence of the impromptu desk dancing party that had just gone on and the nun clueless to the antics of her class when out of the classroom.
Stopping the VCR, I looked at my erection that filled the front of my trousers and thought about my celebrity crush, my heart awash with those warm fuzzy feelings that anyone with a crush would know and thought a bit more about the object of my affections.
Maddie was not only a singer and dancer but also a model and an actress too, and it had been on a sitcom in her mid-teens where Maddie had first found fame, playing the teenage daughter of a dysfunctional but funny family. Prior to this she had been in some commercials and had a couple of bit parts in other shows. The sitcom was cancelled at the end of 1999, but Maddie’s musical talents were becoming well known and highly sought after and her star was rising.
Now, at the start of 2001, Maddie was one of the hottest young artists in Australian pop, successful throughout the country and across the sea in New Zealand too. There were Maddie music videos, CDs, an official website, posters and even a doll. Teenagers and pre-teens, mainly girls, loved her although there were plenty of boys who were fans of young Maddie Lee even if they were loath to admit in public or put it in writing.
Beside me on the couch was a Maddie Lee doll and I picked it up, admiring the plastic toy and thinking about how well it captured the teenager’s stunning beauty and her fine young body. I stroked the doll’s body through the pink blouse and mini-skirt she was wearing, wishing I was doing this to the real Maddie.
Putting down the doll I reached across to pick up some other objects that sat on the couch as well. There was a bra. A white C-cup bra. And panties. Three pairs of panties. Cotton bikini-style knickers. One pair was white with green leg and waist elastic and a cute green cartoon frog pattern. The second pair of knickers were light blue in color and had yellow waist and leg elastic and yellow flowers. The third pair of panties were pink in color and had white cartoon unicorns as the pattern.
The underwear beside me belonged to a teenage girl. A pretty teenage girl. A very hot teenage girl. A stunning blonde 18-year-old from Sydney by the name of Madeline Lee Sullivan. The bra and the three pairs of panties belonged to young popstar Maddie Lee.
I looked at Maddie’s bra and picked it up, stretching the elastic and feeling the clasp. My hands fondled the soft cotton of the brassiere’s C-cups, and I thought about how Maddie’s teenage tits filled them whenever she wore this bra. The bra had been taken from Maddie’s dirty clothes hamper and I lifted it to my nose and took a sniff.
My nose inhaled the slight scent of Maddie’s perspiration and I could smell her sweet strawberry deodorant. She smelled so wonderful, so feminine and girly. I put the bra down and looked at the three pairs of Maddie’s panties, my heart pounding.
Like Maddie’s bra, I had taken her underpants from her clothes hamper. These were not Maddie’s clean knickers, they were her dirty knickers and her feminine stains from her vagina self-cleansing during the day were evident on the double cotton saddles.
Picking up the pink unicorn panties I took a deep sniff and Maddie’s wonderful female smells entered my nostrils courtesy of the young girl’s cunt stains. I sniffed Maddie’s smelly knickers harder, and absorbed more wonderful musty feminine smells of teenage twat, thinking about how they had spent a day covering the most private parts of young Maddie’s body – her front bottom and her back bottom. My erection throbbed as I moved my nose to the back panel and sniffed the cotton where the knickers would have gone between the cheeks of Maddie’s teenage bottom and made contact with her anus.
Putting down the pink panties, I picked up Maddie’s white panties with the cute cartoon frogs, and again sniffed the girly smells from between her legs, fondling the double cotton panty saddle and thinking about how this would have been in direct contact with Maddie’s vagina. What lucky panties, being in contact with the perfect teenage pussy and tight little anus of a pretty teen popstar all day.
On these panties there was an added bonus. One of Maddie’s pubic hairs had come off her pussy while she was wearing them and was now stuck to the white cotton fabric. I removed Maddie’s pubic hair and twirled it in my fingers. That the single pubic hair was blonde proved that the hair that grew around Maddie’s genitals and on her female mound was also blonde, and therefore the long blonde hair that grew on Maddie’s head was also her natural color.
Any playboy porno reasonable person would be horrified by me having the bra and knickers of an 18-year-old female popstar, and ask where I had gotten them. Was I an obsessed and crazy stalker, who had broken into Maddie’s house to steal and sniff her dirty underwear?
The answer was no. I hadn’t had to commit a break and entry offense to get access to Maddie’s clothes hamper and extricate her bras and knickers. Maddie’s bedroom was located in my house because I was married to her mother Karen. Maddie Lee Sullivan was my stepdaughter. And I, Robert James Riley, was her stepfather.
As I continued to sniff Maddie’s white panties with cartoon frogs, absorbing every feminine smell from my stepdaughter’s snatch that lingered on her knickers people would have wondered how I came to this point, stealing and sniffing my the underwear of my wife’s teenage daughter on whom I had secret crush. Like with any story, it would be best to start at the beginning.
I was the second oldest of four kids – two boys and two girls – born to my mother Marjorie and my father Ted. I was born in 1959, my older sister Elizabeth in 1957, our younger brother Chris in 1961 and the youngest sibling Mary in 1964 and grew up in the Chatswood area of Sydney’s northern suburbs. Our parents certainly added to the baby boom in Australia in that era, and my parents’ siblings – our aunts and uncles – all produced us plenty of cousins.
Mum and Dad often said as we were growing up how they looked forward to us producing them lots of grandchildren when we were adults and got married. And with four children, it should have been fait accompli that at least one of us would produce at least one grandchild for them. Unfortunately, things don’t always turn out the way they should in theory.
My older sister Elizabeth met the right man, married reasonably young and had always wanted to be a mother, dreaming of filling her house with babies. Sadly, this dream was to remain just this – a dream – and attempts to make it come true proved to be a nightmare. Elizabeth proved infertile, and no amount of the many IVF fertility treatments they tried were effective. All they did was destroy their finances, and with adoption proving not to be a viable option either, Elizabeth and her husband were left disillusioned and embittered by the experience, having to accept that they would be one of those couples for whom children never happened.
Whether Mary was able to produce the children her older sister could not was a moot point never put to the test. This was because Mary had become deeply religious during her teenage years, and as soon as she left school she took holy orders and became a Roman Catholic nun, living in a convent and teaching at a parochial school. Obviously no children from Mary.
Our parents could hardly claim to be surprised that Chris failed to sire any children. All his life Chris was maybe just that little too in touch with his feminine side such as playing with dolls and dress-ups in girls’ clothes, and dancing around the washing line in the back yard pretending he was a fairy. And in 1973, when we went to see the newly opened Sydney Opera House, Chris gushing over the iconic building and exclaiming that it was ‘fabulous’ was another big clue about how Chris might turn out as an adult.
And so it proved. Chris became a fashion designer of women’s clothes who lived in a swanky apartment in Kings Cross which he shared with his boyfriend who worked as a flight attendant and the couple spending much time socializing in Sydney’s gay scene. Given that two people with an XY chromosome structure cannot produce children together, Chris wasn’t exactly going to turn up at our parents’ house and introduce them to their grandson or granddaughter.
What of me? I guess I was just one of those guys unlucky in love. I was Mr. Average, Mr. In-between growing up. I was very studious and good at the core subjects in school, but wasn’t sporty, artistic or musical, which made me a square in the eyes of my classmates. My light brown hair, brown eyes and tall and skinny stature were nothing of note, certainly not likely to attract the attention of women when there were lots of other men far better looking than me. I wanted to meet the right girl, fall in love, get married and have children but this never looked likely for me.
In my younger years, I never went out with a girl any longer than two or three dates before she gave me the ‘Robert, you’re a nice guy and I like you as a friend …’ speech before she found her new boyfriend and I was left on my own. At least not having a girlfriend had one positive, it gave me lots of time to study and I had a lot of study to do in my younger years to get the very high HSC score required to get into university to study dentistry, then complete the degree to qualify and practice as a dentist.
With one infertile daughter, pornhub porno another daughter who was a nun and a gay son, my parents really wanted grandchildren especially that all our cousins were procreating, and I was constantly feeling the heat of expectation as I grew older as to when I was going to meet the right girl, fall in love, marry and have children. They often reminded me that I might end up alone and lonely in middle age and regret never having kids. That with my glasses and somewhat conservative appearance I looked like a typical suburban dad didn’t help.
But what was I to do? I had tried hard to meet women, I had even joined a dating agency for a while, and these attempts all proved fruitless. The team I supported in Rugby League hadn’t won a First Grade title since long before I was born. They hadn’t won one in my parents’ lifetimes, their last success long before even World War 2 and the Great Depression and I had never even seen them play in a Grand Final much less win one. However I thought it more likely I would see them win a premiership than ever get married and have kids. I couldn’t study to get a relationship like I would a degree or diploma, I couldn’t take out a loan to pay for a relationship, I couldn’t find an ancient bottle washed up on the banks of Sydney Harbor or the Parramatta River and get the genie that popped out to find me a wife.
I came to the reasoning that meeting the right person was just a matter of fate; that it was no good getting depressed over it and driving out to Watson’s Bay, drinking an entire cask of goon before leaping off The Gap or getting a funnel-web spider or a taipan snake to bite me. Either I would meet the right lady or I wouldn’t and would be a lifelong bachelor.
The lifelong bachelor scenario seemed the most likely outcome for me until one Saturday night in March 1994 when at age 35 I was going out on an evening river cruise for a social function with other dentists. It was a beautiful early autumn evening across New South Wales, and with the sun setting over Sydney we set off from Circular Quay out past the Opera House and under the Harbour Bridge, around Goat Island and past The Rocks and Darling Harbour, then back into the main waterway.
Sailing on Sydney Harbour at dusk can be a magical experience, and with a full moon shining that night it was just that. Lights lit up Sydney’s North Shore, the Harbour Bridge and Opera House and all the tall buildings in the CBD were illuminated, the red aircraft navigation light on the top of the illuminated Sydney Tower flashing intermittently. I was enjoying the cruise, and the dentists I was with were just one of a number of different groups and other guests on board the boat that night.
One of the groups was from a Sydney advertising firm, and it was at the line for the buffet as we sailed past Kirribilli Point that I met a tall, slim and very attractive lady with long blonde hair, nice legs and shapely C-cup breasts. We got to chatting and I learned her name, Karen. Karen Marie Sullivan, to give her full name. At the end of the night when we docked back at Circular Quay, I plucked up the courage to ask her for her phone number, which we exchanged and I walked away smitten with a good feeling about this.
Finally my luck was in, I had met a woman to fall in love with and she loved me. I could see a happy future with Karen, but my parents were not impressed with her. Karen, then at age 39 was four years older than me and a divorcee, my parents not approving of divorce. They didn’t get along with her in person, Karen having a typical A-type personality, always living on her nerves, very focused, a neat freak and an absolute perfectionist who got really stressed out if things went wrong.
Then there was the issue of her two kids, Karen having a daughter Madeline then aged 11 turning 12 in in June and a son Dylan two years younger, then aged 9.
“Do you really want to be raising another man’s children, Robert?” my father had stormed when things were getting more serious with Karen.
“And you and Karen are getting older Robert, time is running out for you both to have more children,” said my mother.
My parents were even more horrified when I told them that we would not be having any more children. Pregnancy had not been easy on Karen when she had Maddie and Dylan, and given that she was now 40-years-old she didn’t want to have new babies and I respected her choice. Mum and Dad wanted me to break up with Karen and find a woman who was younger and wanted to have children of her own, but why would I do that when I loved Karen.
I hoped my parents might like Maddie and Dylan but they did not. In Dylan’s case maybe it might have been understandable. Dylan, who had brown hair and brown eyes that contrasted with his blonde haired, blue eyed sister was a somewhat overweight, introverted kid and it was hard to get more than two words out of him. He didn’t show any interest in music, sports or school in general, except for writing poems in a spiral notebook which nobody else was allowed to see. As for Maddie, my parents were horrified at observing the dynamic of her relationship with her mother and learning more about the girl’s background.