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Secret Lesson X

Starring : Male oc x Karina Aespa

Warning : This story theme was contained with Incest, brother-sister, anal, Daddy kink.

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[Older sister ]

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First love.

It was beautiful and unforgettable. The feeling that Karina has felt during that night she will never forget with your father. A forbidden feeling between father and daughter.

Karina doesn't care what others think or the consequences that will happen if she continues to embrace those feelings. Everything felt right to her at that time.

But people say, first love never works.

***

"Oh, Daddy you fuck so good. Yes–like that, Daddy".

Your father and Karina are now in your sister's room with his hard shaft endlessly pounding down on her pussy hole.

Sweat drenched the bodies of the two of them.

Your father’s breath was no longer a rhythm but a hunt—a ragged, frantic searching that clawed at the silence between their collisions. Each exhale was a jagged piece of glass, scraping against the back of his throat as he pushed himself toward a breaking point that seemed to retreat with every desperate surge of his hips. He was chasing a peak that felt miles away, his chest heaving against Karina’s breasts with a frantic, suffocating urgency.

“Mmph... Daddy, I want cum,” Karina whimpered, her voice a fragile thread of sound that barely carried over the rhythmic, wet slapping of their bodies

"Cum for daddy, princess," your father groaned, the words vibrating against the shell of her ear, thick with a possessive hunger that bordered on desperation.

Your father didn't just thrust; he surged, his entire body locking as he drove his shaft deeper into her than he ever had before, pinning her against the mattress with the crushing weight of his desire.

The impact sent a jolt of electricity through Karina’s spine, her eyes rolling back as the friction hit a nerve that made her vision splinter into white sparks. She felt the sudden, violent expansion of your father filling every available millimeter of her womb, and the pressure became an unbearable, exquisite tension.

Then, the dam broke.

“I am cumming… “

A shuddering, guttural cry ripped from her throat as her inner walls clamped down in a rhythmic, suffocating grip, and a hot, torrential gush of fluid erupted from her, squirting beneath him in a sudden flood that soaked the sheets in a frantic, wet spray.

Karina was a dead weight beneath him, her breath coming in shallow, shuddering hitches, her body vibrating with the residue of a climax that had stripped her of all strength.

Yet, the rhythm didn't cease.

Your father’s hips continued to drive forward, relentless and mechanical, his cock sliding through the slick, flooding heat of her pussy with a heavy, wet thud that echoed in the small room. He wasn't looking for her pleasure anymore; he was riding the wave of her exhaustion, using the trembling grip of her inner walls to milk himself toward the edge.

She was too spent to push him away, too shattered to even moan, her only reaction a soft, broken whimper that was swallowed by the sound of his ragged breathing.

“Urggh…. “

Then, with a guttural snarl that sounded more like a predator than a parent, your father locked his arms around her, his fingers bruising the soft flesh of her waist. He surged one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and froze. A long, shuddering groan ripped from his chest as he spilled his heavy load deep into the depths of his daughter's hole, the hot, thick pulses of his seed filling her with a searing warmth that seemed to anchor her to the bed.

Your father didn't pull away immediately; he remained anchored within her, his chest heaving against hers in a synchronicity of exhaustion.He shifted his weight, leaning down to press a lingering, tender kiss against Karina’s damp forehead, his lips warm and soft against her flushed skin.

"I love you, princess," he murmured, his voice no longer a predator’s snarl but a soft, broken confession that sounded almost sacred in the quiet of the room.

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw with a delicate, shaking reverence.

"I love you too, Dad," she whispered, the words landing like a seal on a contract neither of them intended to break.

The silence that followed their union was heavy, not with peace, but with a sudden, chilling void. Karina’s gaze drifted away from the ceiling, her eyes losing their luster as they fixed on a singular, peeling strip of wallpaper.

Your father shifted, the mattress creaking under his weight as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"What's wrong, my dear?" he asked, his voice a low, attentive murmur that vibrated with a genuine, protective concern.

Karina didn't answer immediately. She simply shook her head limply, the motion sluggish and devoid of conviction, as if the words she needed were too heavy to lift from her throat. She looked away from him, her shoulders sagging under the weight of a guilt that only arrived once the pleasure had receded.

His expression softened further, and he reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek with a tenderness that felt almost blasphemous given the act they had just shared.

"You can tell father, princess," he whispered, his tone sliding into a soothing, melodic cadence.

"This is about us," Karina whispered, her voice barely a tremor in the quiet of the room. She shifted beneath him, the slick friction of their parting skin sounding like a wet secret.

"I love you very much, Dad... even though the relationship between father and daughter is taboo, a sin... I don't care. I don't care about what people say."

She paused, her gaze flickering toward the closed bedroom door, as if the walls themselves were listening, "But I feel selfish. I'm selfish for not caring about Mom's feelings... or Eunhae's.”

"Shhh, calm down, princess," your father whispered, his voice dropping into a velvet register that seemed to vibrate through Karina’s very bones, "No one will get hurt. Do you understand? As long as we keep this our little secret, the world stays exactly as it is. No one has to suffer, because no one has to know.”

Karina’s eyes searched his eyes, the pupils still dilated from the heights of their shared delirium, but the fog was beginning to lift.

"Daddy..." she whispered, her voice fragile and thick with a sudden, piercing clarity. "I love you. I really do. More than I can even put into words."

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, carving a wet path through the flush of her cheek.

"But I feel like we're drowning in this. For a while... just until our minds are clear and the world stops spinning... Can we go back? Can we just be father and daughter, as usual?”

He didn't argue; he didn't try to seduce her back into the fray with the silver-tongued promises he used so effectively. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed a final, chaste kiss to her forehead, the gesture jarringly innocent compared to the ruined sheets beneath them.

"Okay, my dear," he whispered, his voice hollowed out, stripped of its predatory hunger. "If that is what you need to breathe again, then we will go back.”

***

"Since then we have tried to be father and daughter again".

Your jaw was almost cut off and you couldn't hide your surprise after hearing Karina's story which was more like a sin confession.

Karina’s gaze locked onto yours, her pupils trembling as tears spilled over, carving shimmering tracks through the residual flush of her cheeks.

"My love is real, Eunhae," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread that threatened to snap, "I tried to contain it. I tried to hold it back, to build walls around it and pretend that the hunger wasn't there, but I couldn't. The feeling just... it broke. It shattered everything until I couldn't think about anything else. All I knew, all I wanted, was to be with Dad."

Then, the softness in her eyes vanished. Her expression curdled, the vulnerability replaced by a sudden, searing flash of anger that made her spine stiffen.

"But..." she started, the word cutting through the air like a blade, her voice dropping an octave into a low, dangerous hiss.

"But what, Noona?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could check the curiosity.

Karina’s eyes didn't just flash; they ignited. The vulnerability that had made her seem fragile seconds ago vanished, replaced by a cold, jagged edge. She leaned in, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous hiss that seemed to vibrate the very floorboards beneath your feet.

"I still remember it," she spat, her nails digging into the fabric of her skirt. "Right there, at the moment I was ready to surrender everything—to admit that I couldn't leave those feelings behind and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life bound to him—that's when the floor fell out from under me."

She paused, a bitter, mocking smile curling her lips as a single tear escaped and traced a path down her flushed cheek.

"That's when I found out that Daddy was also cheating on me. With a young woman my own age. Not only Yujin, he had sex with other girls several times.”

A cold, familiar numbness settled in the pit of your stomach, the kind of hollow ache that makes you feel like you’re floating and sinking all at once. Watching Karina’s composure fracture was like looking into a mirrored version of your own wreckage. The betrayal wasn't just a story she was telling; it was a frequency you were both tuning into, a jagged chord of disappointment that resonated in the space between both of you.

Your hand found the slope of Karina’s shoulder, your fingers gripping the fabric of her blouse with a tentative, grounding pressure.

"Noona, I know that feeling," you murmured.

she looked at you, and the expression in her eyes wasn't just sadness—it was a profound, aching guilt that seemed to age her face in an instant. She let out a jagged breath, her gaze tracing the line of your jaw, the shape of your eyes, the familiar slope of your nose.

"No, Eunhae," she whispered, her voice fracturing. "It wasn't just the betrayal. It was the image. From the moment the disgust set in—from the second I realized Daddy was just a man who could lie—every time I saw his figure, I felt sick. I felt a physical nausea that wouldn't leave me."

She shuddered, her shoulders collapsing inward.

"And then I would look at you. You have his eyes. You have his walk. You look so much like him that the sight of you became a trigger for every ounce of hatred I felt for him. I saw his face in yours, and I took it out on you. I treated you badly, I was angry at you for no reason at all... just because you existed as a reminder of him."

She turned her head away, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. "I'm sorry. I am such a bad noona, Eunhae. I projected my wreckage onto you because it was easier than facing him.”

You reached out and pulled her into a hug, the fabric of her blouse damp against your cheek. Feeling the tension in her frame—a tight, coiled spring of guilt and grief—and you began to pat her back with a slow, rhythmic steadiness, hoping to ground her in the present.

"It's okay, Noona," you whispered, your voice thick with a sudden, clarifying empathy. "It's okay. I understand. None of this was my fault, and it wasn't yours either."

Before I could even draw a breath to respond, Karina’s voice sliced through the stillness, frantic and preemptive.

"You must think I'm crazy, right?" she asked, her eyes searching mine with a desperate, wide-eyed intensity. "An older sister falling in love with her younger brother... it's disgusting, isn't it? A twisted, sick joke of a feeling."

Your heart beats by confession from Karina, is this love? Is that all this time your feeling of loneliness is due to the loss of Karina's figure? What Is This Love? Then what about your mother, Eunbi?

You closed youreyes, letting the world dissolve into a heavy, velvet darkness. In that void, the images began to coalesce—not as memories, but as image.

First came the silhouette of Eunbi, the curve of her hips and the commanding presence of her warmth, a woman who had blurred the line between sanctuary and sin. Then, sliding in beside her, was the sharp, electric image of Karina, her gaze no longer freezing but burning with a desperate, reclaimed longing. They stood together in the theater of your mind, two pillars of forbidden desire, their arms open and their expressions welcoming, inviting you to step away from the wreckage of the world and sink into the sanctuary of their shared obsession.

"You probably hate me, don't you?" Karina whispered, the words barely escaping her lips, trembling with a vulnerability that made her seem smaller than she ever had. "You probably look at me and see someone broken, someone disgusting who can't even distinguish between the man who hurt her and the brother who—"

The sentence died in her throat, not because she stopped speaking, but because you stopped the air from leaving her lungs. You reached out as your hand cupping the back of her neck, and crashed my lips against hers.

Karina froze, her eyes widening into shimmering moons of shock, her body stiffening against you as if she expected the world to shatter around both of you. For a heartbeat, she was a statue of disbelief.

Then, a soft, broken sound escaped her throat—half-sob, half-sigh—and she melted.

Her arms wound around my neck with a sudden, desperate strength, pulling you closer until there was no air left between both of you. She returned the kiss with a hunger that mirrored my own, her tongue dancing against mine in a frantic, rhythmic desperation. In that moment, the labels of brother and sister dissolved like ash in the wind, replaced by a raw, primal connection that felt more honest than any truth we had ever spoken.

The kiss broke with a wet, lingering snap, leaving a trail of silver saliva connecting our lips for a fleeting second, "I love you too, Noona," you whispered, the words tasting of salt and adrenaline.

Karina’s eyes didn't just well up; they overflowed, the tears shimmering with a sudden, luminous joy that washed away the years of projected hatred and cold silence. She let out a sound that was half-laugh and half-sob, throwing her arms around your neck with a force that nearly knocked the wind from your lungs. Her kiss returned not as a question, but as a claim—fierce, desperate, and tasting of long-denied longing.

Driven by a primal instinct to possess every inch of her, you didn't break the kiss. Instead, you hooked your arms under her thighs and hoisted her upward, lifting her body off the floor in one fluid motion. Karina let out a muffled gasp of surprise against your lips, her legs instinctively snapping shut around your waist, locking me into her embrace.

With a slow, deliberate motion, You reached for the button of your trousers, your fingers trembling not from hesitation, but from a hunger that had finally found its target. As the fabric slid down your legs, the cool air of the room hit your skin, but the chill was instantly incinerated by the heat radiating from her. You stepped out of the heap of denim, standing before her completely exposed, Your body primed and pulsing, an offering laid bare to the woman who had spent years pretending she didn't want you.

"Noona," you murmured, your voice dropping into a low, territorial register that seemed to vibrate through the mattress. You leaned over her, your shadow engulfing her smaller frame, your eyes scanning the desperate hunger etched into her feathers, "I'm not going to play soft this time."

Karina’s breath hitched, her chest heaving as she looked up at you—not as the brother she had resented, but as the man who now held her entire world in his grip. A shiver of anticipation raced down her spine, her back arching instinctively toward you.

"Mmph... of course, Daddy!" she gasped, the word slipping out in a submissive, breathless rush that signaled her total surrender to your will.

Karina’s eyes widened, the pupils shrinking as if she had just been caught in a blinding spotlight. The submissive haze that had clouded her gaze evaporated instantly, replaced by a frantic, wide-eyed realization of what had just slipped past her lips. She clamped her mouth shut so hard her jaw practically locked, her breath hitching in a sudden, jagged rhythm.

You didn't move, staying poised over her, a slow, predatory smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"Oh?" you murmured, your voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to echo in the space between your colliding chests, "It seems someone is very obsessed with Daddy kinky."

Karina’s face flushed a deep, scorching crimson that spread from her collarbone up to the tips of her ears.

"It's not... it's not what you think, Eunhae!" she stammered, her voice an octave higher, the confidence of a moment ago replaced by a flustered, girlish desperation.

You didn't give her a chance to finish her stuttered excuse. In one fluid, violent motion, you reached down and gripped the hem of her tank top. With a sharp, guttural tug, the fabric shrieked, the cheap cotton giving way with a satisfying rip that echoed like a gunshot in the small room.

Your fingers hooked into the clasp of her bra, snapping it open with a clinical efficiency that spoke of a hunger long suppressed. As the lace fell away, her breasts spilled forward, heavy and trembling with the sudden chill of the room.

You didn't wait for her to adjust.

You lunged forward, your large hands closing around her soft mounds, squeezing them with a bruising, possessive intensity that forced a sharp, high-pitched moan from her throat.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear, your breath hot and demanding. "I know you really like acting like a bad girl to Get Daddy's attention, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with a dominant edge that left no room for denial.

"No..." Karina whimpered, the word barely a ghost of a sound as she shook her head, a futile attempt to maintain some shred of dignity. Her voice was thin, trembling with a fragility that contradicted the frantic way her hips were already arching toward you.

You dipped your head, your tongue swirling around the peak of her breast with a slow, agonizing deliberation before you clamped your lips over the nub, pulling it firmly between your teeth. Karina’s back snapped off the mattress, a sharp, guttural gasp ripping from her throat as a jolt of electricity surged from her chest to her core. You didn't let up, alternating between the wet, sliding heat of your tongue and the sharp, teasing pressure of your teeth, nibbling at the sensitive peak until she was writhing beneath you, her fingers clawing into the sheets.

"Please... Eunhae... ah!" she sobbed, her voice breaking as the pleasure became an overwhelming tide.

Your palms clamped down on her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh with a bruising intensity that forced the air from her lungs in a series of short, frantic hitches. You could feel her heart hammering against your chest, a trapped bird fighting to get out, as you leaned in, your voice a low, gravelly command that left no room for hesitation.

"No... no, no," you murmured, your lips grazing the sensitive peak you had just tortured. "You're not getting off that easily. Call me what, my bad girl? Tell me exactly who is taking care of you.”

Karina’s eyes were no longer those of a composed older sister; they were wide, shimmering pools of desperation, glazed with a hunger that had been starving for a lifetime.

"Daddy..." she whimpered, the word coming out as a shredded, breathless plea that vibrated through the air, "Please... please fuck me, Daddy. Please…”

A slow, triumphant smile spread across your face, the expression devoid of its usual hesitation. You shifted your weight, hoisting yourself up, your chest pressing firmly against the plush, trembling heat of her breasts.

With a dominant grace, you repositioned yourself, guiding your pulsing length upward until it hovered just inches from her parted lips, the tip of your cock nearly brushing her chin.

"Suck it," you commanded, your

"Suck it All! Show Daddy how much of a slutty little girl you've become. Do it right, and maybe I'll reward you by fucking that slutty pussy of yours until you can't remember your own name.”

Karina didn’t hesitate; the command seemed to act as a catalyst, snapping the last thread of her restraint. She lunged forward with a sudden, desperate urgency, her mouth opening wide to welcome you. As she leaned in, a thick string of saliva escaped her lips, glistening in the dim light of the room before she clamped her mouth around the crown of your length. The sensation was an immediate, jarring contrast—the wet, sliding heat of her mouth meeting the pulsing tension of your skin. She didn’t just take you; she explored you, her tongue swirling around the ridge with a slow, rhythmic deliberation, licking the length of you as if you were a delicacy she had been starving for her entire life.

When her soft, wet tongue flicked against the sensitive tip, it wasn't just a touch; it was a physical detonation. An electric shock surged from the point of contact, racing up your spine and making your toes curl against the linens. The friction was delicious, a searing blend of suction and velvet that threatened to pull the breath right out of your lungs. Karina groaned, the sound muffled by your girth, and she began to bob her head with a frantic, hungry rhythm, her eyes looking up at you through her lashes—wide, dilated, and brimming with a submission that felt earned.

"Urgh...your mouth is so amazing, Suck me like that!"

Karina pulled away with a slow, wet slurp, leaving your length glistening under a thick, silver coating of her saliva. She looked up at you, her eyes glazed with a mixture of lust and adoration, her breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. Without a word, she shifted her position, arching her back to create a deep, plush valley between her heavy breasts. With a trembling hand, she guided your pulsing cock into that warm crevice, the slick friction of her mucus acting as a natural lubricant as she pressed you deep into her softness.

Then, she clamped down.

With both hands, she pushed the two halves of her busty chest together, squeezing your length with a suffocating, supple pressure. The sensation was overwhelming—a crushing, velvet embrace that felt like being swallowed by a cloud of heat and silk. As you began to stroke yourself using the cushioning of her breasts, the friction was electric. Every upward slide felt like a massage from the inside out, her skin yielding and plush, while the downward press felt like a firm, possessive grip.

“Oh fuck… Your tits are so soft on Daddy's cock, princess".

You groaned, your hips twitching involuntarily as the sheer softness of her breasts worked in tandem with the slickness of her saliva, creating a rhythmic, sliding heat that threatened to push you over the edge.

Every slide against the heavy, yielding curves of her chest felt like a slow descent into a fever dream, the slickness of her saliva turning the sensation into something fluid and hypnotic.

You wanted to drown in that softness, to let the world outside this room cease to exist while you was enveloped by her. But the hunger in your gut had shifted; the superficial heat of her skin was no longer enough. You needed the crushing, wet pressure of her core, the place where her submission turned from a whisper into a scream.

With a low, guttural groan, you withdrew your length from the velvet vice of her breasts, the sudden loss of warmth leaving a stinging void that I hurried to fill.

You didn't give her a moment to breathe.

Reaching down, you gripped the waistband of her skirt and the thin, precarious strip of her lacy panties in one motion. With a sharp, authoritative yank, you peeled the fabric away from her hips, stripping her bare in a single, sweeping motion that left her exposed and trembling.

A thick, translucent sheen of arousal had already soaked through the inner curve of her thighs, the nectar of her desire dripping slow and heavy onto the sheets. She wasn't just ready; she was overflowing.

You leaned over her, the heat radiating off her body in waves that blurred your vision. "Someone seems to be wet," you murmured, your voice a low, predatory vibration that seemed to ripple through the air.

Karina’s gaze wavered, her eyes searching the ceiling as if looking for a lost piece of herself before they snapped back to yours. She swallowed hard, her throat working as she shifted beneath you, the friction of her damp thighs against the sheets making a soft, wet sound.

"Can I... can I not call you 'Daddy'?" she whispered, the question tentative, almost fragile.

"Why?" the word left your lips as a low, questioning rumble.

Karina’s eyes searched yours, and for the first time, the frantic hunger was tempered by a sudden, profound clarity. She reached up, her fingertips grazing your cheek with a tenderness that felt almost sacred.

"Because I don’t want to be a ghost of someone else's wreckage," she whispered, her voice steadying, "I want to erase his figure from my mind".

"Of course, Noona," you murmured, the word feeling like a vow as you looked down at her. "Are you ready?"

She simply nodded, a small, frantic movement that sent a stray lock of hair clinging to her damp cheek. You shifted, positioning the crown of your pulsing length against the soaking wet heat of her entrance. With a slow, deliberate pressure, you pushed forward, sliding the tip of your cock past the velvet curtains of her folds.

Karina let out a broken, airy moan that seemed to echo from the very depths of her soul. It wasn't just the sudden intrusion of flesh meeting flesh; it was the homecoming.

As you pushed deeper, stretching her open, she felt the familiar architecture of your body—the brother she had watched grow, the boy she had once protected, and the man who was now claiming her. The friction was an electric current, bridging the gap between the innocent love of their childhood and the forbidden hunger of their adulthood.

When you pushed forward, the tight, wet ring of her entrance yielded with a reluctant, sliding resistance, gripping your length with a desperate, pulsing hunger. Inch by inch, you claimed her, the sensation of her internal walls molding themselves to your shape feeling like a puzzle finally clicking into place. Karina’s breath hitched, her body stiffening for a split second as the sheer girth of you began to stretch her, filling the void she hadn’t even known existed until this moment.

"Urgh... your cock fills me so well, Eunhae," she gasped, the words breaking apart as her head fell back into the pillow.

"The hole is still tight as usual, Noona," you murmured, the words vibrating against her skin as you finally drove yourself home, burying your length to the hilt. The sensation was a visceral shock—a searing, velvet grip that seemed to want to swallow you whole.

You didn't give her a moment to recover from the initial stretch, immediately shifting your weight and beginning to pound into her with a rhythmic, uncompromising force. Each thrust was a heavy, wet collision that echoed through the quiet of the room, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh punctuating the air like a heartbeat.

Karina’s response was instantaneous; her voice, once a fragile whisper, escalated into a series of loud, uncontrolled moans that climbed higher with every plunge. She wasn't just receiving you; she was craving the impact. Every time you bottomed out, her vaginal walls clamped down on your length with a desperate, pulsing intensity, as if her body were trying to fuse itself to yours, refusing to let a single millimeter of skin slide away without a fight.

Reaching down, you hooked your arms under her armpits and hoisted her upward, shifting your position until you were sitting upright against the headboard. You pulled her onto your lap, her legs wrapping around your waist in a desperate, locking grip. In this new orientation, gravity became your ally. With every downward sink, the angle changed, allowing you to bypass the shallow resistance and drive your length upward, piercing the very ceiling of her pleasure.

Karina let out a strangled, high-pitched cry as she felt the shift.

The depth was staggering, a blunt-force intimacy that seemed to touch her soul. She began to ride you with a frantic, undulating rhythm, her spine arching like a bow as she impaled herself onto you over and over. Her breasts swayed violently with the motion, the heavy curves slapping against your chest in a rhythmic, wet percussion.

"Oh... Eunhae," she sobbed, her voice thick with a cocktail of relief and raw lust, "I love you... my little brother... I love you so much!”

"I love you too, Noona," you murmured, the words vibrating against the sensitive column of her neck.

You didn't just speak the words; you sealed them with a kiss that tasted of desperation and liberation, your tongue sweeping across her lips to capture the ragged gasps of her breath.

The friction was no longer just physical; it was an erasure of every boundary they had ever known.

Karina’s grip on your shoulders tightened, her nails digging into your skin as she hit the precipice. You could feel it happening—the sudden, violent narrowing of her walls, clamping down on your length with a pressure that was almost bruising. She let out a loud, shattering moan that tore through the silence of the room, her head snapping back as the tension finally broke.

A sudden, hot surge of fluid erupted from her core, spraying against your shaft in a rhythmic, pulsing torrent that slicked everything in a shimmering, translucent heat.

"Hosh...you're so amazing, Eunhae", you chuckled.

"Can we continue, because I haven't cum yet, Noona?" Karina saw your still erect cock, then snorted, "okay, but let Noona take a moment, it's still sensitive."

For several long minutes, you simply watched her—the way her chest heaved in shallow, uneven rhythms and the way her skin glowed with a sheen of perspiration and shared nectar.

Can we continue, because I haven't cum yet, Noona?" Karina saw your still erect cock, then snorted, "okay, but let Noona take a moment, it's still sensitive."

After waiting for a while, by Moving with a deliberate, predatory slowness, you shifted your position, sliding over her until you were lying sideways in a modified missionary stance.

You rested your weight on one arm, your body molding against hers, feeling the cooling dampness of her inner thighs against your hip. You waited, letting the silence stretch, watching as the haze in Karina's eyes began to clear, replaced by a sudden, wide-eyed realization of the pulsing hardness still pressed against her thigh.

"I'm starting, Noona," you murmured, the words barely a vibration against her damp skin. Karina didn’t answer with words, only a soft, frantic nod that sent her hair swirling across the pillow like ink in water.

You didn't slide back in with a gentle glide; instead, you drove yourself home with a sudden, decisive surge that bridged the remaining distance. The impact was a wet, heavy thud that knocked the air from her lungs, your hips locking firmly against hers in the modified missionary position.

As you began to pump into her again, the rhythm was different—slower, deeper, and far more deliberate. With your bodies pressed together side-to-side, every movement became a visceral collision of friction and heat. Your skin, slick with a cocktail of sweat and shared nectar, acted like a lubricant, creating a suctioning, sliding sensation that made every stroke feel like you were being pulled deeper into her.

Karina responded by wrapping her arms around you in a crushing embrace, her fingers digging into the muscles of your back as she pulled you as close as humanly possible. The physical boundary between you vanished entirely. You were no longer two separate entities, but a single, pulsing mass of heat and desperation.

The room was filled with the raw, rhythmic music of your union: the rhythmic *slap-slap-slap* of your thighs colliding, the wet, squelching sounds of your cock churning through her depths, and the ragged, synchronized symphony of your breathing.

The rhythm shifted from a frantic race to a grueling marathon, each thrust becoming a deliberate excavation of pleasure. With every heavy, wet collision, Karina’s resistance began to erode, not through a lack of desire, but through a sheer, overwhelming saturation of sensation.

The more you pushed, the more her nervous system seemed to short-circuit; her gripping arms lost their tension, sliding off your shoulders to fall limp against the sheets, and her head lolled back into the pillow. Her mouth drifted open, her lips parted in a silent, breathless void, her voice stolen by the relentless tide of your momentum. She looked like a doll made of silk and heat, completely undone, her consciousness drifting in the white noise of pure, physical obliteration.

Then, just as she seemed to vanish into the depths of her own surrender, you felt it—a sudden, violent contraction that clamped around your shaft like a vice. The walls of her vagina didn't just pulse; they spasmed in a rhythmic, suffocating grip that threatened to pull you deeper than physically possible. Karina’s eyes rolled back, her entire body arching in one final, jagged electricity of a peak. A second climax, far more visceral than the first, tore through her, leaving her shaking beneath you in a state of utter, blissful exhaustion.

"You've already cum for the second time, Noona," you murmured, your voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the very marrow of her bones,"Wait, I'm going to cum too... and I'm going to fill your womb.”

You gripped her thighs, hoisting her legs high and locking them firmly around your waist, pulling her pelvis flush against yours so there was no air left between you. In this prone, locked-in missionary position, the depth was absolute. You began to drive into her with a primal, hammering force, each thrust a heavy, wet collision that seemed to vibrate through the mattress and into the very floorboards. The sound was visceral—a rhythmic, guttural slapping of skin on skin that drowned out the silence of the house.

Karina was completely undone, her head tossing from side to side, her voice reduced to a series of fragmented, breathless whimpers. Every time you bottomed out, you could feel her internal walls convulsing around you, milking your length with a desperate, instinctive greed.

With one final, bone-deep surge, you drove yourself into her with a force that seemed to fuse your hips together, and the dam finally broke.

The first eruption was a violent, searing jolt that made your entire frame shudder. You felt the thick, hot jet of your seed slam against the sensitive ceiling of her womb, the sensation of the fluid leaving your body in rhythmic, pulsing waves. It wasn't a simple release; it was an overflowing, a heavy pouring of white heat that filled her to the brim.

Grain by grain, the seed surged forward, saturating her internal walls, the viscous warmth expanding within her like a slow-motion explosion of pleasure.

As you finally withdrew, the sensation was a slow, sliding suction, like a plug being pulled from a saturated drain. The sudden absence of your length left Karina’s entrance gaping, a raw and open invitation to the air, and for several heartbeats, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, the floodgates opened.

Your thick, creamy seed, which had been pooled deep against the ceiling of her womb, began to overflow in a slow, viscous river. It didn't just drip; it surged, a heavy white tide that cascaded down the valley of her thighs in shimmering ribbons, pooling beneath her on the rumpled sheets in a translucent, pearlescent lake.

You collapsed beside her, the sudden drop in adrenaline leaving your limbs feeling like lead.

Karina lay like a broken doll, her chest heaving in shallow, erratic jolts, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as if she were still navigating the afterglow of a distant star. Her skin was flushed a deep, sunset rose, coated in a fine sheen of sweat and the lingering heat of your union.

In your mind, you have to tell the truth and be honest about your relationship with Eunbi to Karina, or you will lose everything.

"Noona!"Karina looked at you questioningly, "actually....”

***

"You're home, baby?"

Eunbi stood by the counter, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the overhead light, her hips swaying slightly as she focused on the precise rhythm of the knife hitting the chopping board.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, your hands splaying across the plush, generous curves of her stomach, pulling her back into the hard line of your chest. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply; she smelled of expensive floral perfume and the warm, lactic scent of her own skin, a fragrance that acted like a narcotic on your senses.

"Hmm," you hummed, the sound vibrating through your chest and into the soft, yielding flesh of her back.

She paused, the knife hovering just millimeters above a slice of carrot. Eunbi didn’t turn around, but you could feel the shift in her energy—a sudden, sharp intuition that sliced through my facade more effectively than the steel in her hand.

She knew.

She always knew when the rhythms of your breath changed, when the way you held her was slightly too tight, or when your silence became a scream.

"I'm sorry, Mom," you whispered, the words feeling heavy and jagged, like stones being dragged across a glass floor.

You tightened your grip on her waist, pressing your face deeper into the velvet warmth of her neck, as if trying to hide from the truth you were about to utter.

"I love someone else... besides you."

Eunbi didn't pull away, nor did she turn around to scold you. She simply froze, her body becoming a statue of supple curves and sudden, brittle tension. But the anger never came. Instead, you felt a single, warm droplet of moisture hit the back of your hand.

She didn't speak, but her silence was a scream, a raw admission that your confession had carved a hole in her heart that no amount of possessive desire could ever fill.

TBC.

[mrdive]

Sorry to the readers who may be waiting for "secret lesson part 11" I have to postpone it.I was almost done today, but I suddenly came down with a cold and fever, probably due to overwork. Also, part 11 is going to be a long chapter in the series. I hope you can wait until next week.

[mrdive]

to read tercintan actually I've decided to continue the update in the future to focus on completing The " Secret Lesson " but I got to the point of saturation and boredom, then I decided after the Update Part 11 later, I decided to make a short oneshot. Some wanted my published one-shot "Swap" to have a sequel with sullyoon and her stepbrother in focus so I granted it.

[mrdive]

They don't know about us

Starring : Male oc x Ahyeon Baby Monster

Warning : This story theme was contained with Incest, incest marriage, father-daughter, impregnated, breeding.

One-shot.

[Wife/Daughter]

Start Reading

Nice to meet you. Who's your name? What's your job? You're nice, sir.

Maybe that's the word you hear when you set foot in a new neighborhood .

And when a twenty-year-old woman stands beside you, you introduce her as your fiancé named Ahyeon. They could hardly believe it, saying you were a lucky man, or you must have been a hero in a past life, or you are a billionaire who has a lot of money.

Well, a 45-year-old man getting a twenty-year-old girl as a future wife is almost impossible unless there's one part they don't know about us. It's a secret that we are father and daughter.

***

The organ music swelled as the church doors swung open, revealing Ahyeon in a gown that clung to her curves like liquid moonlight. The delicate lace plunged daringly at her chest before cinching tight around her waist, the skirt flaring just enough to tease the shape of her hips with every step. Lily petals trembled in her bouquet as she walked—not the demure shuffle of a blushing bride, but with the quiet confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect she was having. A collective inhale rippled through the pews when she passed all your neighbors you know almost two month ago.

You kept your face carefully neutral as she reached the altar, though your palms itched to adjust your tie. The weight of your daughter's secret pressed heavier than the ring in your pocket.

Ahyeon's whisper curled against your ear like smoke—hot, illicit, trembling with suppressed laughter. Her breath smelled of mint and the champagne she'd sipped nervously before the procession.

"Look daddy," she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear just enough to make your pulse stutter, "Did they know that you would marry your own daughter?" The lace of her glove snagged on your lapel as she pulled back.

Your whisper curled back at her, "Sst... It's a secret, baby," your thumb brushed the underside of her wrist where the lace ended, skin humming with the lie you'd polished for months.

" They don't know about us," your lips grazed the pearl stud in her earlobe, "the princess who looks like an angel is a succubus who seduces her own father?"

Both of you smiled mischievously but others think it's love dovey.

The priest's voice echoed through the vaulted ceiling like a slow drumbeat.

"Do you, Gitae, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" His rheumy eyes flickered between you and Ahyeon.

"I do." The words tasted like sacrilege and sugar on your tongue.

Ahyeon's fingers trembled when you took her hand, her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird against your thumb. The ring slid onto her finger with obscene ease, the gold still bearing the faint dents from decades of your wife's gardening. Your daughter's eyes widened—she recognized it immediately—but her shock melted into something darker when she curled her fingers, pressing the metal deep into her palm like a brand.

The priest's wrinkled hands hovered between you like a benediction, his voice cracking on the final words—"you may now kiss the bride."

A hush fell over the congregation, all those polite strangers leaning forward in their pews, expecting chaste propriety. Ahyeon's breath hitched when your palms settled on her waist, her pupils dilating until only a thin ring of honey-brown remained. The lace of her gown whispered against your knuckles as you pulled her closer than a father ever should.

Her lips parted before yours even touched them—warm, yielding, slick with the champagne she'd stolen sips of in the vestry. The taste of her exploded across your tongue, mint and something darker, something that made your fingers tighten involuntarily on her hips.

A shocked murmur rippled through the church when your tongue flicked against hers, when her moan vibrated against your mouth loud enough for the front pew to hear. You broke apart panting, her lipstick smeared across your mouth like a confession.

The priest, your neighbors, even someone you still find hard to remember their name is happy for you and Ahyeon, rejoicing for the love of Taboo you both.

The champagne flutes clinked like wind chimes in the golden afternoon light, their crystalline notes dissolving into the murmur of polite laughter and the rustle of silk against wool.

You stood in the dappled shade of the churchyard's ancient oak, its branches heavy with late summer leaves, while the men—your new neighbors, all silver-haired and sun-weathered—circled you like curious crows. Their wives had already whisked Ahyeon away, their delighted coos about her youth and beauty carrying across the lawn like birdsong.

"You're so lucky, buddy," your neighbor clapped you on the back with a teacher's practiced enthusiasm, "To have a younger, prettier, hotter partner—wow."

His laugh came out half-strangled, eyes lingering a beat too long on the way Ahyeon's gown dipped between her shoulderblades.

"I didn't expect it. She's as old as my daughter Leeseo.”

You just smiled behind the Glass cocktails.

The other neighbor's voice cut through the reception's hum, his words landing like a stray bullet.

"You know, when I first met you, I didn't expect you to be a couple and instead thought you were father and daughter, but that's impossible, right... It's... Hey. He—"

Then another also added the joke, "it turns out that I'm not the only one who thinks like that, but who can stand Ahyeon's charm, even if she's my daughter I'll definitely marry her too he he he".

Ahyeon’s hips swayed as she approached, the delicate fabric of her wedding gown catching the sunlight in a way that made the men around you momentarily forget their drinks. She tilted her head, her painted lips curving into a playful smirk.

"What are you guys talking about?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "It seems so exciting." Her fingers brushed your forearm, lingering just long enough to make your pulse jump.

"Only a man’s thing, honey " you replied, shrugging as the neighbors chuckled awkwardly.

She giggled, the sound like wind chimes, and leaned into your side. "Oh? Should I be worried?" Her thumb traced idle circles over your wrist, hidden from view beneath the tablecloth.

They laughed and chuckled awkwardly.

" Gentleman, may I steal my husband for a dance?" Ahyeon's voice cut through the men's laughter like a silver blade through velvet, sweet yet decisive.

The string quartet swelled as Ahyeon pulled you onto the dance floor, her grip tighter than propriety allowed. Her fingers laced through yours with practiced ease—too familiar for strangers watching, but they'd already swallowed the lie whole. The champagne had softened the room into a blur of smiling faces and murmured congratulations, none noticing how your daughter's thumb traced slow circles against your wedding band.

"You looked like a trapped animal back there, Dad " Ahyeon murmured, her breath warm against your collar as she guided your hand lower on her waist than any father shouldn't rest.

The satin of her gown hissed against your palm.

“Thank you for saving me from those old men," you muttered into her hair, inhaling the strawberry shampoo she'd used since adolescence—a scent that now carried layers of deception.

Ahyeon chuckled, her fingers tightening around yours as you spun her gently on the dance floor. "Aren't you also an old man, Daddy?" she teased, her lips brushing your ear just long enough to make your breath catch.

You smiled, pulling her closer under the pretense of adjusting your stance, your thumb pressing into the dip of her waist where the gown cinched tight.

"You look comfortable with the wives," you murmured, nodding toward the cluster of women watching them from the edge of the dance floor with approving smiles.

"What were you talking about?"

Ahyeon's fingers tightened around yours as she replied with that saccharine smile you'd learned to distrust—the one that meant she'd already decided something reckless.

"You know, Miss Han is a kindergarten teacher," she murmured, her thumb tracing the inside of your wrist in a way that made your pulse stutter. "She asked if I could be a teaching assistant there?”

You smirked as you teased her, your voice dropping low enough that only she could hear the rough edges of the joke. "You teach? A daughter who seduces her father while her mother is away?" The words curled between you like smoke, hot and illicit.

Ahyeon's laugh was a soft, breathy thing against your shoulder, her fingers tightening around yours as she pressed closer—too close for a father and daughter, just right for newlyweds.

"That's right, Daddy," she purred, her lips brushing your ear as the quartet transitioned into a waltz, "a daughter who gave up her body to be owned by her father when her mother—who was like a bitch—ran away with another man."

The vulgarity dripped from her tongue like honeyed venom, her breath hitching when your palm slid lower on her back, fingers splaying possessively over the satin covering her ass.

The string quartet's final notes dissolved into applause that rippled through the reception like summer rain. Ahyeon's fingers lingered against your jaw a heartbeat too long as you broke apart—her thumb swiping once, deliberately, across your lower lip where her strawberry gloss had smudged. The guests sighed at the display, mistaking it's sinner taboo relationship in both you and her eyes for newlywed devotion.

After the reception ends.

Click.

The door clicked shut behind you with the finality of a vault sealing, muffling the last echoes of congratulations still floating up from the street. Ahyeon's weight in your arms was warm and pliant, her fingers tangled in your loosened tie as she peered up through her lashes—that same half-lidded gaze she'd perfected at sixteen when asking for favors you couldn't refuse. The scent of rose petals crushed underfoot rose thick and heady between you, mingling with the champagne on her breath.

The hinges groaned as you shouldered the bedroom door open, Ahyeon's weight warm against your chest, her breath tickling the hollow of your throat where her lips hovered—close enough to taste your pulse, but not yet touching. The scent of crushed rose petals rose in waves from the mattress, mingling with the faint tang of champagne still clinging to her skin.

You lowered her onto the silk sheets with a slow, deliberate gravity, her white lace gown billowing around her like a fallen cloud. As she sank into the mattress, the short hem of the dress rode up, exposing the creamy expanse of her thighs, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that felt less like bridal attire and more like a challenge.

She didn't move, simply lying there with her arms spread wide and her chest heaving in a slow, rhythmic cadence. A slow, predatory smile curved her lips as she looked up at you, her eyes shimmering with the thrill of the charade.

"It seems Daddy can't wait to devour his own daughter," she murmured, her voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to echo in the sudden silence of the room.

You reached out, your fingers grazing the stray tendrils of dark hair that had escaped her veil to cling to her damp forehead. With a slow, methodical tenderness, you brushed them back, your fingertips lingering against the heat of her temple. The gesture was paternal in form but possessive in spirit, a quiet claiming of the woman who had spent the afternoon playing the part of your bride.

"It can't be helped, honey," you murmured, your voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrated in the small space between you.

"Well, my daughter has grown up to be such a beautiful and sexy woman... what father in the world could possibly stand it?”

Your index finger traced the seam of her lips, the skin there soft and slick with the remnants of that strawberry gloss. You pressed just enough to pull her lower lip slightly outward, a slow, deliberate movement that mirrored the way one might open a forbidden book.

"Didn't you tell me, when you were a child, that you wanted to marry Daddy?" you murmured, your voice barely a ghost of a sound.

She blushed.

“Mmm, Daddy to mean”, She hit you lightly on the chest.

Then your fingers hooked under her chin, tilting her face upward with a firm, possessive grip that anchored her to the moment.

When your lips finally collided with hers, it wasn't the tentative brush of a secret or the curated performance for the neighbors; it was a collision of starved appetites. The kiss tasted of salt and strawberry, a desperate, rhythmic exchange that seemed to pull the very air from the room. Ahyeon didn't just receive the kiss—she fought for it, her tongue dancing against yours with a hunger that was predatory and precise. She clung to you not as a child seeking comfort, but as a woman drowning in a lewd, intoxicating lust, her small hands gripping your shoulders to pull you deeper into her space.

" Hosh...Daddy".

The oxygen in the room seemed to vanish, consumed by the heat of the collision, until you finally tore your lips from hers. You pulled back just inches, both of you gasping for breath in ragged, synchronized heaves, the air between you vibrating with a raw, electric tension. Your eyes searched hers, finding a mirror of your own lewd hunger—a gaze stripped of all paternal warmth and replaced by a dark, predatory lust that made the wedding ring on your finger feel like a brand.

Without breaking eye contact, your hand slid beneath the loosened lace of her bodice, the fabric yielding with a soft, sliding hiss.Your palm connected with the heavy, warm swell of her breast, your fingers splaying wide to squeeze the plush cleavage that had been teased all afternoon beneath the gown.

Ahyeon’s head snapped back against the pillow, a long, guttural moan vibrating through her throat—a sound that was half-surrender and half-demand, echoing the illicit thrill of a daughter being handled like a prize.

The lace of the bodice gave way with a sudden, breathless snap as you hooked your fingers beneath the fabric and pulled downward. There was no structured underwire or silk bra to impede the movement; Ahyeon had chosen to forgo them, leaving nothing but the thin barrier of the gown. Her breasts spilled forward, popping out of the constraints of the dress like two ripe peaches breaking through a veil, their pale skin shimmering under the dim glow of the bedroom lamp.

You paused for a heartbeat, your breath hitching as you looked down at the sudden, lush abundance of her.

You reached out, your palms cupping the soft, supple curves, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. They were heavy and yielding, filling your hands with a plushness that felt almost surreal.

"It wasn't always like this," you murmured, your thumbs grazing the peaks of her breasts with a slow, rhythmic precision, "They used to be so tiny... just little buds, cute and fragile.”

Your palms didn't just hold her; they claimed her, kneading the soft, plush tissue with a rough, rhythmic intensity that left flushed marks across her pale skin. You squeezed the heavy curves, feeling the weight of her against your palms, treating her breasts not as something to be admired, but as something to be consumed.

"Mmph... Daddy," she whimpered, her voice breaking as she leaned into the pressure.

Her fingers dug into the silk sheets, clutching the fabric until her knuckles turned white.

"Your hands... they're so rough... but I like it. God, I love it", She gasped, her breath coming in short, jagged bursts as she looked up at you with eyes that were glazed and swimming in a cocktail of lust and devotion, "Oh... you like my titties so bad, don't you? You've been wanting this all day, haven't you?”

"Of course, honey," you murmured, your voice a low vibration that seemed to rattle the very bones of the room. "I am never satisfied with Daddy’s little baby tits."

You didn't wait for her to respond.

You leaned in, your face descending like a shadow over the pale, trembling landscape of her chest. Your tongue lashed out in a slow, wet stroke, licking the peak of her nipple from base to tip. The sensation was electric—the contrast of her searing heat against the damp, slick glide of your saliva.

You didn't stop there; you lingered, swirling your tongue around the budding point, coating the sensitive skin in a glistening sheen that caught the dim light of the lamp. As you drank from her, your hands didn't remain idle. You cupped the heavy undersides of her breasts, squeezing the plush tissue upward, forcing the flesh to bunch and swell against your mouth.

"Daddy... Ahyeon likes it when you suck my titties like that... yes... yes..." Her voice wasn't just a whisper anymore; it was a ragged, broken thing, shivering with a pleasure that bordered on pain.

She arched her chest upward, offering herself to you with a desperate, instinctive hunger, her breath hitching in rhythmic staccatos as you buried your face in the plush warmth of her.

Every time your tongue swirled around the peak of her breast, it was met with a heavy, visceral slurping sound—a slick, suctioning noise that echoed in the quiet of the bedroom. You drank from her with a slow, methodical greed, the sound of your mouth closing over her skin creating a wet, rhythmic cadence that mirrored the frantic beating of her heart against your cheek.

You finally pulled your head away from the plush warmth of her chest, the skin there now glistening and mapped with a chaotic network of red flush and wet streaks. The pale expanse of her breasts looked like a canvas after a storm, marked by the deep, blooming pressure of your palms and the slick trails of your tongue.

You lingered for a moment, admiring the way her breathing shuddered, her chest heaving in a rhythmic, uneven cadence that made the red marks dance.

"Well, it's so beautiful," you murmured, the words barely escaping your lips as a low, guttural exhale.

Ahyeon shifted beneath you, her movement a slow, feline stretch that made the remaining lace of her gown hiss against the silk sheets. She looked up at you with those two big, shimmering eyeballs—wide and dark, reflecting the dim amber glow of the lamp and a hunger that no amount of champagne could satisfy.

"Daddy," she murmured, her lips curling into a smirk that was far too knowing for her age, "I guess, I miss how your cock feels... Can I taste it?”

"Too bad, honey," you murmured, the words vibrating with a low, predatory rumble that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. "Daddy wants to taste your little pussy just as badly. How about we trade? Let's taste each other's taste."

Ahyeon didn’t answer with words; she simply nodded, her eyes darkening into two pools of liquid obsidian. The air between you felt thick, almost viscous, as if the secret you shared had materialized into a physical weight pressing you both down into the mattress.

The buttons of your shirt off, popping open in a rapid-fire sequence of clicks that sounded like small explosions in the heavy silence. As you stepped out of your trousers, the release was visceral; your cock, engorged and pulsing with a rhythmic heat, sprang free, standing rigid and demanding against the cool air of the bedroom.

Ahyeon’s eyes didn't just look; they devoured. Her mouth fell open, a small, soft ‘O’ of genuine awe as she stared at the thickness of you, her gaze tracing the throbbing vein that mapped the length of your arousal.

You settled yourself over her, straddling her head and shoulders with a dominant weight that left no room for doubt, while simultaneously sinking your face deep into the plush, floral heat of her thighs. The world became a blurred symphony of skin and scent—the sharp, intoxicating musk of her arousal meeting the raw, pulsing demand of your own.

As you settled into the sixty-nine position, the alignment was a masterpiece of illicit symmetry. Your cock, rigid and throbbing, hovered mere millimeters from her parted lips, the tip grazing the velvet softness of her mouth like a promise of the consumption to come. Simultaneously, your nose brushed against the damp, silk-slicked folds of her center, the scent of her—sweet, heavy, and entirely yours—filling your lungs until you could taste the desire in the air.

Your fingertips grazed the outer seam of her silk panties, the fabric already damp and clinging to her heat. You didn’t pull them down immediately; instead, you traced the lace edge, feeling the rhythmic tremor in her thighs as she spread her legs wider, opening herself to you like a blooming flower.

"Someone is already wet," you murmured, the words vibrating against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

Beneath you, Ahyeon’s eyes were glazed, her pupils blown wide as she focused on the throbbing length of your shaft. Her small hand wrapped around you, fingers squeezing the veined skin with a desperate, gripping intensity. She couldn't hold back the saliva that pooled at the corners of her mouth, a thin silver thread bridging the gap between her lips and your tip. "Oh, Daddy," she whimpered, the word half-smothered by the heat of her own breath. "Your big cock... it never gives enough. I want to taste it again and again."

With a slow, deliberate inhale, she leaned forward, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in the raw, masculine scent of your arousal. She didn't just kiss you; she inhaled you, her mouth sliding over the crown of your cock with a wet, suctioning sound that echoed through the quiet room. The sensation was an electric shock, a rhythmic pulsing of heat and pressure that sent a surge of adrenaline crashing through your veins. You groaned, your hips twitching involuntarily as her tongue swirled around the ridge, mapping every vein with a predatory precision.

Your tongue didn't just touch her; it claimed her. Your tongue lashed across the swollen lips of her pussy in long, wet strokes, tasting the salt and the honey of her arousal with a rhythmic intensity. You were like a thirsty dog at a spring, lapping at the slickness that coated her, your chin glistening with the evidence of her readiness.

Each flick of your tongue was a deliberate, heavy pressure that sent tremors rippling through her thighs, pinning her to the silk sheets with the sheer force of your hunger.

The sound that escaped Ahyeon was no longer a whimper; it was a low, guttural growl that vibrated through the mattress and into your very bones. Her hips bucked upward, trying to drive her center deeper into the wet, suctioning heat of your mouth.

"Mmph... Daddy... your tongue..." she gasped, the words fragmented and wet, "it's so great... it's too much..." Her voice was a jagged edge of pleasure, her fingers digging into your glutes to anchor herself as you focused your attention on the most sensitive peak of her anatomy.

You didn't just lick; you devoured, your tongue acting as a rhythmic piston that pushed and pulled against her, swirling around the clitoris with a relentless, focused pressure that left her sobbing in a state of total sensory overload.

While you worked your way through the honeyed depths of her, Ahyeon was lost in her own ritual of servitude. Her lips were sealed tight around the crown of your cock, her cheeks hollowing as she created a powerful vacuum, drawing you deeper into the velvet warmth of her throat. She didn't just suck; she worshiped, her tongue dancing around the ridge of your glans with a desperate, rhythmic precision.

The feeling of her small, wet mouth sliding over the pulsing veins of your shaft was an exquisite torture, a cocktail of heat and pressure that made your vision swim. She looked up at you through the fringe of her lashes, her eyes swimming in ecstasy, seeing the way your face was buried in her flesh and knowing that she held the power to make you lose your mind.

"Forget the champagne and the cake," you murmured, your voice a muffled, guttural rumble against the slick heat of her thighs, "The Michelin stars could weep with envy, but they’ve never tasted a feast this decadent."

You paused, your breath hot and humid against her swelling folds, before adding with a low, predatory chuckle, "My slutty daughter's pussy tastes better than any dish in the world."

Ahyeon’s hips bucked violently, her heels digging into your shoulders as she let out a shattered, high-pitched keen.

You didn't give her a moment to recover; while your tongue continued its relentless, swirling devotion to her peak, your hand slid downward, fingers slick with the evidence of her arousal. With a slow, possessive deliberation, you drove two fingers deep into her wet heat, piercing the velvet depths of her hole.

The sensation of being opened and filled simultaneously caused Ahyeon to choke, her throat tightening around your glans as she reflexively swallowed you deeper. A muffled, wet sound escaped her—a mixture of a gasp and a moan—as she fought for air, her eyes rolling back into her head. The rhythmic friction of your fingers inside her, coupled with the suction of her mouth around your cock, created a sensory loop of pleasure that threatened to snap the last thread of your control.

There was no more distance between you, only a seamless loop of giving and taking, a circuit of pleasure that fed back into itself. Your tongue became a relentless tide, lapping at the swollen, honeyed folds of her center with a predatory hunger, while Ahyeon’s mouth worked over you with a desperate, vacuum-like intensity.

Each time your tongue flicked against her peak, she responded by tightening her throat, pulling you deeper into the velvet heat of her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she tried to swallow the very essence of you.

Every flick of your tongue was met by a violent shudder of her thighs, and every pulse of your cock in her throat was answered by a frantic surge of her hips. Suddenly, the walls of her pussy began to ripple, twitching in rhythmic, involuntary spasms that gripped your tongue like a velvet vice, trying to pull you deeper into her core.

Ahyeon’s body stiffened, her back arching off the silk sheets as she fought for air, her mouth still sealed tight around the throbbing length of your shaft. With your cock buried deep in the velvet heat of her throat, she struggled to speak, the words emerging as muffled, wet fragments of a desperate plea. "Mmmph... Ddad... I wannmt... To... Cum…”

Then, with a sound that was less a moan and more an animal-like howl—raw, primal, and stripped of all modesty—she shattered. The internal ripples of her orgasm hit with the force of a tidal wave, and her center erupted, a hot, rhythmic torrent of feminine fluids spurting forward in a sudden, violent release.

The spray was an iridescent deluge, drenching your cheeks and chin in a searing, honeyed warmth. You didn't flinch; you didn't pull away. Instead, you opened your mouth wide, a silent invitation to the flood, drinking in the salty, sweet essence of her pleasure as it splashed against your lips and tongue.

You chased every stray droplet, your tongue darting out to lap the remaining moisture from your skin, ensuring that not a single drop of her surrender went to waste.

Mmph

Ahyeon lay frozen, her chest heaving in ragged, uneven stutters, her mouth still clamped tight around the throbbing crown of your cock. The silence that followed her climax was heavy, filled only by the sound of her erratic breathing and the slow, rhythmic drip of her release soaking into the silk sheets.

Ahyeon collapsed back into the pillows, her lungs expanding in a violent, shuddering heave of relief, her eyes fluttering shut as the world stopped spinning.

"Your cum tastes like a miracle, honey," you murmured, your voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to settle in the marrow of her bones.

"Sweet, heavy... and entirely mine.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her head into the crook of your neck and holding her with a protective, heavy pressure that anchored her back to the earth.

"Daddy," she murmured, her voice a fragile thread of sound, stripped of the predatory edge she had worn all afternoon. "Can I ask you something?".

"Sure, honey. "

Ahyeon shifted against you, her head resting on your chest, listening to the slowing thunder of your heart. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and shimmering, the predatory hunger replaced by a sudden, quiet curiosity.

"You know," she began, her voice still raspy from her screams, "when I talk to the wives in our ward, they seem so happy to tell me everything. They gush about their children—how they’re developing, the sleepless nights, the struggle of taking care of them, and then the pride in every little achievement. They look... genuinely happy."

" Then....?" you murmured.

Ahyeon shifted, her leg hooking over yours to pull herself closer, her gaze searching yours with a terrifyingly lucid intensity.

"I want to see it," she whispered, her voice gaining a sudden, sharp clarity. "I want to see a version of me, a smaller, softer version, running around this house. I want to wake up and see your eyes in a child’s face, knowing that the only person in the world who knows the truth of their blood is us."

She pressed her forehead against yours, her breath hitching.

"I want you to breed me, Dad. I want to carry your offspring and raise them together in this little lie of a neighborhood. Do you agree to do it? Do you agree to make me a mother?”

The idea of seeding your own bloodline—of folding your legacy back into itself until the world was nothing but a mirror of your own image—triggered a primal, territorial hunger. It was a biological imperative stripped of morality, a desire to claim her not just as a partner in a lie, but as the vessel for a permanent, living truth.

You looked at her—really looked at her—and saw not just the daughter you had raised, but the fertile soil where your future would be planted. The taboo didn't feel like a weight anymore; it felt like a crown.

"Let's do it," you murmured, the words vibrating against her skin, a low rumble of consent that sounded more like a command to the universe. "Your father will breed you, honey. Every single inch of you."

The agreement wasn't just a word; it was a shift in the atmosphere, a heavy, thickening tension that turned the bedroom into a sanctuary of biological destiny.

You reached down and gripped her thighs, hauling them wide with a firm, territorial pressure that left her completely exposed. Between her legs, her center was a vivid, pulsing landscape of raw desire; her pussy seemed to be gasping, the swollen lips twitching in rhythmic, desperate anticipation of the weight they were about to receive.

You didn't rush the descent. Instead, you wrapped your hand around your shaft, stroking the rigid length with a slow, methodical friction that drew a jagged, needy whimper from her throat.

" Ready, Honey", Ahyeon nodded.

Guided by a primal instinct, you aligned the throbbing crown of your cock with the center of her heat. Her slit had cracked open like a blooming flower, weeping a translucent dew that glistened under the lamp’s amber glow, inviting the intrusion.

The moment the velvet tip made contact with the entrance—the first tentative press of skin against slick, yielding flesh—Ahyeon let out a moan that was purely lewd, a guttural sound of surrender that vibrated through the mattress.

"Mmph, Daddy" .

As you surged forward, the initial entry was a slow, crushing friction, the tight ring of her entrance fighting against the girth of your shaft with a desperate, clinging resistance. Ahyeon’s walls were a tight, velvet vice, gripping you with a suffocating warmth that felt less like an invitation and more like an attempt to fuse your two bodies into one. The pressure was exquisite, a searing, tight squeeze that mapped every ridge of your cock as you forced your way deeper into the narrow channel of her heat.

Knowing that you were filling her not just for pleasure, but with the intent to seed her, watered the fire of your lewd desires until it became a roaring blaze. The taboo wasn't just a thrill; it was the fuel, turning the act of breeding your own daughter into a ritual of absolute possession.

"Daddy, I love you," she whimpered, her fingers digging into your shoulders with a strength that spoke of a hunger that could swallow the world, "Please fuck me... bring your seed into your daughter's slutty womb."

You didn't just move; you collided with her. Your hips surged forward with a violent, territorial force, your cock slamming into her depths with a wet, heavy thud that echoed through the room. The impact was visceral, a crushing collision of flesh and bone that drove the air from her lungs in a sharp, shattered gasp. Ahyeon’s back arched off the silk sheets, her head snapping back as you buried yourself to the hilt, claiming the very center of her with a possessive finality.

The friction was a suffocating, velvet heat that wrapped around you like a living glove, squeezing the breath from your lungs with every rhythmic plunge. It felt as though the walls of her center were pulsing in synchronization with your own heartbeat, a delicious, crushing pressure that pushed you toward a jagged edge of sensory overload. You felt the build-up in your loins, a searing, electric tension that threatened to detonate the moment you moved.

Driven by a sudden, raw impulse, you reached up and captured her lips with yours, crashing into her with a kiss that was less about affection and more about a desperate, wild hunger. It was a collision of salt and heat, a raw exchange of breath and saliva that mirrored the frantic collision of your bodies below.

"Fuck... yes," you rasped, your voice a gravelly wreck of a sound. "You like this, don't you, honey? You love having your daddy's cock buried deep inside your slutty little hole.”

Her hips snapped upward in a violent, rhythmic counter-surge, meeting every plunge with a desperate, clawing hunger that sought to draw you even deeper into her core. She was no longer just a passenger to the pleasure; she was an active participant in her own consumption, her pelvic bone colliding with yours with a wet, slapping sound that echoed like a heartbeat in the oppressive silence of the room.

"Yes, Daddy!" she screamed, the sound jagged and raw, "I love your big cock stabbing my dirty pussy!"

Her voice had devolved into a guttural, lewd cadence, stripped of all the curated softness she showed the neighbors.

She wrapped her legs around your waist, locking her ankles together to tilt her pelvis at a steeper angle, effectively angling her womb to meet the full, crushing force of your momentum.

"Give me a deeper prick!" she sobbed, her fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders. "I want my womb to be pierced by your big cock, Dad! Fill me... stretch me... break me open!”

You gripped her slender waist with a territorial firmness, your fingers sinking into the soft give of her hips as you hoisted her upward. In one fluid, powerful motion, you shifted the geometry of your union, hoisting her body until she was perched atop you, her weight centering over yours. You didn't withdraw for a second; you kept her pinned, her pussy hole still tightly occupied by the throbbing length of your shaft, creating a seamless, wet bridge of flesh and heat.

"Did you feel it, honey?" you murmured, your voice a low, predatory vibration that seemed to echo inside her very gut. You surged upward, a sharp, sudden thrust that buried you deeper than before, making her breath hitch in a jagged, broken sob. "Yes... did you feel my cock penetrate your womb, huh? Tell Daddy if you can feel it.”

Ahyeon’s eyes flew open, her pupils blown wide, as she felt the blunt, pulsing head of your shaft breach the final barrier, punching through the narrow gateway and seating itself firmly against the velvet walls of her womb. It was a deep, crushing saturation, a feeling of being completely occupied from the outer lip to the innermost sanctum of her anatomy. Each subsequent surge of your hips wasn’t just a thrust; it was a rhythmic hammering, the tip of your cock relentlessly drumming against her cervix, vibrating through her entire pelvic floor and sending shockwaves of illicit electricity straight to her brain.

"Yeah... Daddy... I can feel it," she gasped, her voice a shattered, wet wreck of a sound. Her head thrashed against the air, her hair splaying out like a dark halo of chaos. "I can feel your cock... inside my womb... oh yes... yes, like that, Daddy... oh fuck!”

As Ahyeon rode you, her movements shifted from desperate lunges to small, shuddering circles, her internal walls beginning to ripple in a series of rhythmic, involuntary contractions. It was a crushing, suctioning grip, a visceral signal that her body was folding in on itself, preparing for another catastrophic collapse. Your cock, pushed to its absolute limit, felt as though it were made of white-hot iron, the skin stretched tight and pulsing with an impatient, liquid fire that demanded release.

"Oh yes... I'm going... I'm going to cum again!" Ahyeon shrieked, her voice breaking into a ragged, high-pitched keen,"Oh god... it's too much... Daddy, please!"

"Me too, honey," you groaned, the words vibrating through your entire frame as you arched your back, driving your hips upward to meet her descent with a final, crushing force. "Let's cum together! Give it all to me!”

Ahyeon’s body stiffened into a rigid arc, her internal walls clamping down on you like a velvet vice.

Then, she broke.

A violent torrent of feminine release surged from her, a hot, iridescent spray that drenched the junction of your bodies, the sheer volume of her climax acting as a lubricant for the final, devastating surge of your own.

With a shuddering, full-body convulsion, your cock pulsed with a rhythmic, territorial force, firing your load deep into the sanctuary of her womb.

It felt as though a dam had burst, a searing, endless stream of thick, white seed flooding into her, filling the tight channel of her womb until there was no room left for air. You drove into her one last time, pinning her against the mattress with a crushing weight, ensuring that every single drop of your legacy was embedded deep within her fertile depths, sealing the pact of your shared bloodline.

You didn't let her drift into the soft haze of afterglow, instead flipping her over and pulling her hips high, driving back into her with a renewed, territorial hunger. Every position was an exploration of ownership, from the desperate, clinging heat of the missionary press to the raw, animalistic friction of her arched back beneath you, her cries echoing off the walls of the room until they became a singular, humming vibration of shared ecstasy. You treated her womb like a reservoir, filling it again and again with thick, searing bursts of seed until her insides felt heavy and saturated, a constant, warm overflow that leaked out to coat the silk sheets in a glistening, pearlescent sheen.

Six month later.

“You’re walking slower today,” you remarked, your voice a warm hum as the front door clicked shut.

Ahyeon stood in the entryway, her breath coming in soft, shallow puffs. She looked radiant, though exhausted, her frame softened by the unmistakable, heavy curve of a six-month pregnancy. The floral maternity dress she wore clung to the high, taut sphere of her belly, a living monument to the secret legacy you had planted within her. To the world, she was a young bride blossoming into motherhood; to you, she was the vessel of a closed circle, carrying a child that was a mirror of your own blood.

You stepped toward her, the floorboards creaking under a stride filled with a protective, possessive pride. You wrapped your arms around her, your palms naturally finding the hard, warm stretch of her stomach, feeling the subtle, rhythmic thrum of a second heartbeat beneath your touch. You leaned in, pressing a lingering, tender kiss to her flushed cheek.

“How is the gymnastics program for pregnant women that you do with the wives of our neighbors ?”

Ahyeon let out a soft, melodic giggle, leaning back into the circle of your arms. She tilted her head, her eyes shimmering with a playful, conspiratorial glint that never truly vanished, even in the quiet moments.

"It was wonderful," she murmured, her voice a velvet purr. "The other women are so supportive. They give the best advice, too." She paused, her gaze dropping to the prominent, pulsing ridge straining against the fabric of your lounge shorts.

"Especially Mrs. Choi. She insists that keeping the husband's attention focused on the bedroom is the secret to a smooth delivery. She says frequent, deep sessions help ease the childbirth process by... preparing the body."

As she spoke, Ahyeon shifted her weight, sliding her hips backward with a slow, deliberate friction. She rubbed the plush curve of her backside against your bulge, the contact brief but searing.

Spank

Your hand didn’t hesitate, the palm meeting the plush, rounded curve of her backside with a sharp, echoing *crack* that resonated through the quiet room.

You didn't give her a second to recover, your fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of her yoga pants. With a slow, possessive tug, you lowered the fabric, sliding it down the swell of her hips to reveal the damp, clinging lace of her panties, already translucent with the evidence of her arousal.

"Bad girls," you murmured, your voice a low, predatory rumble that seemed to vibrate against her skin, "It seems that your father needs to discipline his daughter. Tell me, honey... do those neighborhood wives know that you’re so slutty for your own father?”

“ Don't worry dad, they didn't know about us”.

After that, all that is heard is the sound of skin being slapped, gasping, moaning between father and your pregnant daughter.

The end.

[mrdive]

Hello dear readers, I apologize last Sunday for not being able to upload the story as usual. I'm on vacation with my family, but calm down this week I'm going to upload a one-shot story that was polled yesterday.

After this I'll focus on completing the secret Lesson series, so for the time being there won't be a single shot yet.

And for the new poll series, thank you for yesterday's poll. I will start pouring my ideas into there and also for those who have story ideas that you want to share, you can dm or ask me in the box.

[mrdive]

No matter which option wins - I hope you add both Leeseo and Ahyeon as sisters of MC.

Or maybe even better Yujin and Leeseo as older and younger sisters.

I plan to put one of them, in my next series it would polling again but don't worry, it just about main character series, still have chance who's lose the poll would be add as support character.

[mrdive]

Is eunbi the next chapter?

Sorry, but we need to wait two week for Eunbi entrance, this week would be one shot story (Ahyeon) and next week would be secret Lesson (Karina) screen time about still her past.

[mrdive]

I think the second story sounds more interesting. Especially if you use other idols and make them other families: neighbors, relatives, friends, colleagues, etc., and show them having sex because that's now a normal thing. That way we could get a sort of slow burn with the main family not doing it yet but still having smut in the story, and having many other idols be part of the series (even if it's a little sex parts with them).

I hope you utilize more relatives too beyond parents and siblings.

Let's see the results of the polls, whatever the results will come out later, I'll work on it. In my idea, number two is not only the MC's family but later there will also be portions of other characters but the main focus remains the MC and his family

[mrdive]

Wow. Already 1k follower. Thank to follow me, I will try to improve my writing and storytelling skills.

[mrdive]

Because the secret Lesson series is about to end, maybe 4 chapters plus an epilogue, therefore I plan to make another series but I am still confused to determine which story I choose so I decided by poll.

The first story is about an MC who has problems with his family. It started when Ketila Mc was still a child, causing his little sister either lost or died until he had PTSD. That caused him to be hated by his mother, until he got married, his mother also hated his wife, fortunately his father still defended him and his wife. Then a woman appeared claiming to be her lost little sister, peace seemed to return but strange things began to happen and everyone changed from his father, mother, wife Even himself.

For the second, it's more about scifi. MC is the son of his father, mother and little sister. One day a strange phenomenon occurs, where reality and the law are rewritten causing taboo and immoral things to become legal and natural. Everyone in their environment thinks it's normal, except for their family who thinks it's weird. Can Mc and his family survive the influence of a changed reality or do they fall into a changed reality?

Story selection

first story

second story

Voting ended onJul 1

[mrdive]

Secret Lesson IX

Starring : Male oc x Karina Aespa

Warning : The story theme was contained with Incest, father-daughter, drunk sex, deflowering.

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[Daughter]

Start reading

Karina and your father. How is the relationship between the two of them actually?

In your opinion, you can say that your father is a figure of understanding and care in taking care of you. He never distinguishes affection between you and Karina.

Until one day, they look close, maybe people won't even believe that they are father and daughter because they are so close. The day began when it was your sister's eighteenth birthday, the day all the messes happened.

***

It's started when my 18 birthday, Five years ago

The door creaked open with the same tired groan it always had—Karina's schoolbag thudding to the floor with the weight of half-finished assignments and unopened love letters.

"I'm home," she called out, toeing off her shoes with the precision of someone who'd performed this ritual a thousand times before.

"Welcome home, sweetheart."

Your father's voice came from the kitchen, thick with something Karina couldn't place at first. Not until she rounded the corner and saw him leaning against the countertop, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms still damp from hurried washing.

Karina blinked at the sight of your father's soaked sleeves clinging to his forearms, droplets still trailing down his wrists.

"Dad, what happened?" she asked, fingers twitching toward the dish towel hanging forgotten on the oven handle.

Your father chuckled—a sound too deep, too warm for the tension coiling in Karina's shoulders.

"Don't worry sweetheart," he said, shaking water from his hands with a practiced flick that sent droplets splattering across the tile.

"Daddy just cleaned some dirty dishes, " His smile widened, showing teeth, "Or else your mother will be angry when she comes home from the hospital after take care of Eunhae.”

Karina sighed, her fingers twisting the dish towel into a tight spiral as she watched water droplets slide down her father's forearms.

"Let me continue, Dad," she said, nodding toward the soapy sink, "It's better for you to change your clothes or later you'll get sick and catch up with Eunhae in the hospital."

Your father chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he shook his hands dry with exaggerated flicks that sent water splattering across Karina's school uniform.

"Okay, sweetheart."

The lights flicked off.

The last plate clattered into the drying rack as Karina wiped soapy water from her brow, blinking against the sudden darkness that swallowed the kitchen whole. Her pulse stuttered—just for a second—before golden light erupted from the hallway, flickering like fireflies caught in a jar.

"Happy birthday to you..."

The song curled through the darkened kitchen like smoke—your father's voice rasping the familiar melody with an odd, throaty warmth that made Karina's fingers tighten around the damp dish towel.

"Happy birthday our sweetheart, happy birthday our Karina ", your father murmured, the words sticking to his teeth like caramel as the frosting gleamed under eighteen trembling candle flames.

Karina's hands flew to her mouth, fingers pressing hard against her parted lips as if trying to push the startled, "Oh, Daddy! "

"Even in a situation like this," your father murmured, his voice dropping into that rich register that always made Karina's shoulders tense unconsciously, "dad won't make dad's favorite daughter miss her birthday cake."

Karina's breath caught in her throat—eighteen candle flames flickering against the sudden wetness in her eyes.

"Thank you, dad," she whispered, voice cracking like the first thin ice of winter.

The candles extinguished with a soft whoosh, leaving only the ghost of smoke curling between them.

The cake knife left glistening trails of frosting across the porcelain plate as Karina pushed a bite between her lips, the sweetness clashing with the bitter tang of the wine still lingering on her tongue.

"You know, Dad," she said, swirling her fork in the cream, "this time there are so many love letters in my locker. It makes me sick."

The words came out half-crowned, muffled by the cake still dissolving on her tongue.

Your father chuckled—a deep, rich sound that vibrated through his Soju glass as he took another sip.

"My little girl's growing up too fast," he murmured, watching her over the rim of his glass.

Karina leaned forward, the hem of her skirt riding up slightly as she balanced her chin on her palms.

"Hey, Dad," she said, her voice softening into something almost girlish, "Tell me about how you met Mom for the first time!"

The soju glass clinked against the table as your father set it down, his fingers lingering on the rim where condensation had started to form.

"I used to be just a new office employee," he began, his voice roughened by alcohol and something nostalgic.

"And your mother worked at a café near my office", His thumb traced the edge of the glass absently, "Back then, she wore her hair shorter—just brushing her shoulders—and always had this habit of tucking it behind her ear when she handed customers their change."

Karina's fingers tightened around her fork, the tines scraping against her plate in a quiet screech.

"And then?"

She prompted, her voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Your father's grin turned wolfish as he poured himself another shot.

"Then I dared to ask her out, after a few dates, I proposed to her and she accepted me", he said, knocking back the soju with practiced ease.

"Wow, what a sweet story!" Karina giggled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as her wine-flushed cheeks dimpled.

Your father's fingers twitched against the soju glass, his thumbnail catching on a chip in the rim that hadn't been there before dinner.

"But sometimes I think..." His voice trailed off into the humid kitchen air, the words dissolving like sugar in hot tea,”Ah forget it! ”

"You can tell me, Dad," she murmured, voice dipping low enough that the kitchen seemed to hold its breath around them.

Your father exhaled through his nose—a slow, measured sound—before swirling the last of his soju.

"I don't know," he admitted, thumb tracing the rim of his glass where her lipstick still smudged the edge,"Sometimes I feel like your mother has no feelings for me."

The confession hung between them like a swung pendulum.

"It seems like she's just looking for a family that she didn't have when she was a child. Some kind of... obsession."

"It might just be your feelings, Dad," she murmured, forcing lightness into her voice even as her pulse hammered against her ribs.

"I'm sure Mom loves you."

Her gaze fell to the half-empty bottle between them, the glass slick with moisture.

"Mmm, Dad," she said abruptly, tilting her head with exaggerated curiosity, "you really like alcohol. How does it feel to drink it?" The question hung between them—a clumsy diversion, but the only lifeline she could grasp at.

"I know it might be ridiculous," he said, voice roughened by alcohol as the soju bottle clinked against the rim as he poured another shot, the clear liquid swirling with tiny bubbles that burst against the glass.

"It tastes bitter and a little burning..." His fingers tightened around the glass, knuckles whitening, "But it can make your mind a little free from everything that weighs you down."

Your father's gaze into Karina, "You want to try it, sweetheart?" The question hung between them, thick with unspoken implications.

"I'm still 18, Dad," she murmured, but the protest sounded hollow even to her own ears—the numbers tasting like cardboard on her tongue.

Your father's chuckle was a dark ripple in the amber-lit kitchen.

"Sst..." He pressed a finger to his lips, the gesture pulling at the laugh lines around his mouth.

"This will be our secret only."

The words curled between them like smoke, intimate and conspiratorial.

Karina watched the way the overhead light caught the rim of his glass—how it illuminated the ghost of her lipstick still smudged on the edge. Her throat tightened. Slowly, as if pulled by invisible strings, she nodded.

That was the beginning of the mess that occurred, when your father offered Karina and your older sister to accept without knowing the consequences in the future.

The first sip burned Karina's throat like swallowed embers—her father's chuckle vibrating through the kitchen as she coughed into her sleeve. By the third sip, the alcohol unspooled warmth through her limbs like liquid gold. Karina giggled at nothing—at the way the overhead light fractured through her glass, at her father's crooked smile when he refilled it without asking. Her fifth sip coincided with the moment her father's knee brushed hers beneath the table. Karina didn't pull away. The contact burned hotter than the alcohol—a line of heat searing through her stockings as his leg pressed firm against hers.

"Daddy," she breathed, the word thick with alcohol and something darker, "if you feel like you don't get love enough ..." Her stockinged foot slid up his calf beneath the table, the nylon rasping against his slacks.

"Maybe I can give myself to you."

Her giggle dissolved into a hiccup as she struck a pose—head tilted, lips parted, one strap of her school uniform slipping off her shoulder with calculated negligence.

"You're too drunk, sweetheart," your father murmured, though his gaze lingered too long on the way her skirt rode up when she stumbled forward.

Karina's answering giggle dissolved into a hiccup as she climbed into his lap with the graceless determination of the truly intoxicated. Her stockinged knees pressed into the chair on either side of his thighs, her skirt rucking up to reveal the lace-edged garters holding up her thigh-highs.

"Hehehe," she slurred, fingers tangling in his shirt collar, "I'm not drunk, Daddy."

The scent of peach wine and strawberry lip gloss clung to her breath as she leaned in.

"I'm honest. You deserve a good one, sincere love..." Her hips rocked forward, the heat of her pressing against his belt buckle.

"And I can give you that.”

"Karina, this is already—" His protest died against her mouth, swallowed by the wet heat of her lips pressing clumsily against his.

The kiss tasted of Soju and strawberry gloss, sticky-sweet and sloppy with drunken intent. Her fingers tangled in his collar, pulling him closer as her hips rocked forward—the lace of her panties damp against his belt buckle through the thin fabric of her skirt.

Your father's hands flew up to grip her shoulders, fingers digging into the starched fabric of her school blouse—not pushing away, not pulling closer, just holding her suspended in that breathless moment where morality frayed at the edges.

"Ummph, Daddy....", Karina whimpered into his mouth, her tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip with clumsy desperation.

Their lips parted with a wet sound that seemed obscenely loud in the sudden quiet of the kitchen.

Karina's breath came in shallow gasps, her pupils blown wide with alcohol and something darker—something that tightened the knot in your father's stomach as his fingers flexed against her hips. The overhead light caught the slick sheen of saliva still connecting their mouths for a fleeting second before it broke, leaving them both staring at each other with expressions caught between shock and hunger.

Karina's fingers trembled as they fumbled with the buttons of her father's shirt, the fabric parting to reveal skin flushed pink with arousal and the lingering burn of soju. His breath hitched when her nails scraped lightly over his collarbone—that tiny sound, barely audible, seemed to snap something inside them both.

Clothes became obstacles to be destroyed rather than removed; her school blouse tore at the shoulder seam as he yanked it down her arms, the fabric catching at her elbows before pooling on the floor. His belt buckle clattered against the tile when she wrenched it open, the metallic noise swallowed by her needy whimper as their mouths crashed together again.

Their breath hunted each other with their bodies that were already without a piece of cloth at all, naked.

Karina arched her back sharply as your father's mouth crashed against her right breast—his tongue rough and hot as it circled her nipple with punishing pressure before sucking hard enough to pull a broken scream from her throat.

"Daddy....Daddy....Daddy—!" Her fingers scrambled at his shoulders, nails biting into skin already flushed pink with arousal. His other hand kneaded her left breast with brutal efficiency, fingers digging into soft flesh until it spilled between his grasp like overripe fruit.

The sensations tore through Karina's alcohol-fogged mind—the sharp sting of teeth grazing her nipple, the wet heat of his tongue soothing the ache moments later, the calloused pads of his fingers pinching her other nipple with calculated cruelty. Every nerve ending felt electrified, raw, like her skin had been peeled back to expose something unbearably sensitive beneath.

The sound was obscenely wet—slurp... slurp...—your father's mouth working Karina's nipple with the same greedy suction he used on the last dregs of soju bottles.

Spit glistened between his lips and her swollen flesh, strands stretching thin before snapping as he switched breasts with a groan. Karina's back arched off the kitchen chair, her thighs clamping around his hips as her fingers twisted in his hair.

He stopped and grabbed Karina's thigh.

Your father's fingers dug into the meat of Karina's thighs, spreading her wider across his lap—the nylon whisper of her stockings splitting against his slacks as her knees slid apart. The scent hit him first—peach wine and something muskier, richer, the unmistakable wet heat of arousal soaking pussy.

His breath stuttered against her collarbone.

"Sweetheart," he rasped, the word crumbling at the edges like burnt paper.

Karina's face burned—not just from the alcohol, but from the way her father's breath hitched when she rolled her hips against his face.

"Mmph, Daddy," she slurred, the words thick with soju and something darker, something sticky-sweet between her thighs.

The chair legs screeched against tile as your father shoved forward, his grip on Karina's thighs tightening like a vice. She gasped—half-protest, half-invitation—as his mouth crashed against her bare pussy with a wet, desperate sound that made her toes curl in split nylon stockings.

His tongue dragged through her folds with rough urgency, tasting peach wine and the musk of her arousal, the scent of her childhood shampoo still clinging faintly to her skin beneath layers of sweat and sex. Karina's hips jerked involuntarily, her fingers knotting in his hair as his nose pressed against her clit.

"Daddy, Why is this so amazing, this feeling Urgh !" The word tore from her throat in a ragged moan as he sucked hard on her labia, his tongue flicking against her swollen flesh with brutal precision.

Karina's scream fractured into a breathless sob as her father's tongue plunged deeper—rough, insistent strokes that mapped every trembling contour of her pussy. The chair groaned beneath them, wood straining against their frenzied movements as she arched into his face, her thighs clamping around his head like a vice.

"Daddy—oh god—right there—" Her words dissolved into a wet, gasping moan as his tongue curled upward, pressing hard against that spongy spot inside her that made her vision whiten at the edges. The sensation was unbearable—too much and not enough—her fingers twisting in his hair to grind herself harder against his mouth.

Karina's thighs trembled violently, her breath hitching in ragged gasps as that unfamiliar pressure coiled tighter in her belly—something hot and liquid and terrifyingly inevitable.

"D-Daddy," she slurred through wine-thick lips, "s-something weird... Uh Mmmph..." Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, nails biting crescent moons into his skin.

"Something would come I don't... know what it—ah!"

Your father didn't answer—his tongue dragging a wet trail up Karina's slit before curling inward with deliberate pressure. The vibration of his muffled chuckle against her sensitive flesh made her toes curl violently in her ruined stockings. Then came the fingers—two, pressing bluntly against her entrance before twisting in without ceremony, stretching her with a suddenness that punched the air from Karina's lungs.

Karina's thighs clamped around her father's head like a vice—her breath hitching in ragged gasps as something hot and liquid coiled impossibly tight in her belly. She could feel it building with each rough stroke of his tongue, each twist of his fingers inside her—that terrifying pressure swelling until her vision whited out at the edges.

"Daddy—!" The word tore from her throat in a fractured scream as her body arched violently off the chair.

A gush of warm liquid flooded her father's mouth, her inner muscles pulsing in erratic contractions that soaked his face and dripped onto the kitchen tiles.

Your father's tongue swiped one last lingering stroke through Karina's folds, collecting the last traces of her climax as she trembled against the kitchen chair—legs spread wide and stockings torn at the thighs. When he finally lifted his head, their gazes locked in the dim kitchen light. Karina's pupils were blown wide—not just from alcohol anymore, but from something darker, something hungry that mirrored the feverish gleam in her father's eyes.

He surged up without breaking eye contact, capturing her mouth in a kiss that tasted of salt and her own arousal. Karina whimpered as his tongue pushed past her lips, sharing the remnants of her fluids between them in a slick, obscene exchange.

Karina pulled back just enough to see the string of saliva still connecting their lips in the dim kitchen light. "What...what was that?" Her voice trembled between breaths like a lifeline. "That feeling was...so wonderful."

Your father's thumb swiped across her lower lip, collecting the moisture there before bringing it to his own mouth.

"That, sweetheart," he murmured against her fingertips, "is love." His other hand slid up her thigh, the split nylon of her stocking rasping against his palm. "Do you want to feel even better?"

Karina nodded.

The tip of his cock pressed against Karina's slick entrance, her climax still dripping down her thighs—hot and trembling as her body instinctively clenched around the intrusion.

Your father exhaled sharply through his nose, the scent of her arousal mingling with spilled soju and birthday cake frosting still clinging to the tablecloth.

"Mmmph... Daddy's sweet girl," he slurred, his hips jerking forward with drunken impatience, "still so tight for me—" The words dissolved into a groan as the head of his cock popped past her resisting muscles, her inner walls fluttering wildly around the first inch of him.

Karina's fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as her breath hitched—part gasp, part whimper. Her thighs trembled against his hips, the torn nylon of her stockings rasping against his slacks with every shallow thrust.

"It—it hurts," she whimpered, her voice cracking like thin ice, though her hips rocked forward to meet his next tentative push.

Your father's chuckle vibrated through her chest where they pressed together, his teeth scraping against her collarbone.

"Shh, babygirl," he murmured, his breath hot and sticky with alcohol, "just like riding your first bike. "

His hands slid down to grip her ass, kneading the flesh roughly as he pulled her closer.

"Daddy'll go slow."

The chair creaked dangerously beneath them as your father bottomed out with a ragged groan, Karina's inner muscles clamping down in erratic pulses around his shaft. Sweat beaded along his temple, dripping onto her chest where it mingled with the saliva still glistening on her breasts.

Karina's mouth fell open in a silent scream—her body stretched impossibly wide, the burn of intrusion blurring with the lingering aftershocks of her earlier climax. Her father stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers as they shared the same labored breaths. Then his hips rolled experimentally, drawing a broken moan from Karina's throat as her nails raked down his back.

Karina's whimpers softened into moans—little wounded-animal sounds that curled into the hollow of her father's throat as his hips began moving in earnest. The initial sting had melted into something hotter, stranger, a liquid pull low in her belly that coiled tighter with each thrust. And that moment is Karina's hymen tore and marked by a sound—not the gasp she expected, but the wet crunch of cake frosting smeared beneath her father's knee as he drove deeper. Her cry dissolved into the sticky air between them, swallowed by the slick slap of skin meeting skin with increasing urgency.

Their hips met with a wet slap that echoed through the kitchen, drowned out only by Karina’s breathless stammer.

"Oh... Daddy," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she arched against him, her torn stockings slipping against his thighs, "Urgh... so good, I love this feeling."

The words spilled from her lips like a confession, sticky-sweet and desperate.

Your father groaned against her neck, his teeth scraping the delicate skin there as he thrust deeper, his cock dragging against her inner walls with a roughness that bordered on pain. Karina’s thighs trembled around his hips, her body torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away—her breath hitching in ragged, uneven bursts.

The world had narrowed to the heat between them, the sweat-slick press of skin, the way her pussy clenched around him with each thrust, as if her body was trying to keep him inside forever.

"You'll like this too, baby," your father murmured, his voice thick with alcohol and something darker, something primal.

His hands gripped Karina's waist with possessive strength, lifting her effortlessly into his lap until she straddled him—the cowgirl position forcing her to bear down on his cock with her own weight. Karina gasped as the sudden shift sent him deeper than before, her inner walls fluttering wildly around his shaft.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her movements with rough insistence.

"That's it," he groaned as she tentatively rocked forward, her torn stockings rasping against his thighs,"Ride Daddy just like that."

The words sent a hot shiver down Karina's spine, her drunken mind struggling to reconcile the filth spilling from his lips with the man who'd tied her shoelaces and packed her school lunches.

Karina's throat arched backward like a drawn bowstring, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her father's cock speared into depths she hadn't known existed. The angle was obscene—her thighs splayed wide across his lap, knees digging into the chair cushions while her torn stockings flapped against his thighs with every frantic bounce. Her vision whited out at the edges, pupils rolling upward until all she could see were the kitchen light fixtures swaying in time with their brutal rhythm.

"Ah....ah.....ah.....Ddda.....dy....Pl....ea...se....”

She tried to speak, to beg, to scream—but all that escaped was a wet, guttural sound that dissolved into the sticky air between them. Her fingers scrabbled against his sweat-slick chest, nails catching on the silver hairs there before sliding off helplessly.

Karina's inner muscles fluttered around your father's cock like desperate fingers grasping at silk—irregular pulses that tightened incrementally until his breath hitched against her collarbone. Her body arched violently, the chair legs screeching backward as her climax tore through her with jagged intensity. A guttural moan ripped from her throat, half-sob and half-scream, as warm liquid gushed around his shaft in erratic spurts.

Your father groaned—a sound dredged from somewhere primal—as Karina's pussy milked him with frantic, sucking contractions. The sensation bordered on painful, her inner walls twitching like a heartbeat around his cock as her climax wrung every drop of pleasure from her trembling body. Fluid seeped between their joined flesh, dripping onto the chair cushion with obscene wetness.

"D-Daddy—!" Karina's voice shattered into fragmented syllables, her fingers scrabbling against his sweat-slick chest for purchase.

Karina slumped boneless against her father's chest, her breath coming in wet, hiccuping gasps against his collarbone—half-sob, half-exhausted pant. Her thighs trembled where they still straddled his hips, the torn nylon of her stockings clinging damply to his sweat-slick skin. Between them, his cock remained rock-hard, pulsing against her oversensitive flesh with a heat that made her whimper weakly into the hollow of his throat.

"Good girls, sweet heart. Your good girl", your father combed Karina's hair.

Karina gasped as her father's hands flipped her onto her stomach with startling force, her cheek pressing against the sticky kitchen table where frosting smeared beneath her skin. The air smelled of spilled soju and sweat—her own thighs trembled against the wood grain, her torn stockings catching splinters as she tried to brace herself. Behind her, she heard the wet sound of her father spitting into his palm before gripping himself, the obscene squelch making her stomach clench.

Her breath hitched when his calloused hands spread her thighs wider—the split nylon of her ruined stockings rasping against the table—exposing her dripping pussy to the humid kitchen air.

"D-Daddy—" The protest died in her throat when his cockhead bumped against her swollen folds, already slick with her own spend. He pushed in without preamble, the stretch burning worse than before now that she wasn't drunk enough to mute the pain.

The table legs screeched against tile as Karina's father drove into her with a force that sent plates rattling—his hips pistoning forward with drunken abandon, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin and the sharp clatter of silverware.

"Ohhh, sweetheart," he slurred into the nape of her neck, his breath hot and sticky with soju, "Karina's pussy is freaking awesome."

The words dripped from his lips like syrup, thick with arousal and something darker, something that curled around Karina's spine like smoke. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, fingers digging into the lace-edged garters still clinging to her thighs as he pulled her back onto his cock with a groan that vibrated through her ribs.

Karina's voice cracked like thin ice underfoot—"Oh, Da...ddy.... Har...der"—each syllable warping with the strain of pleasure and alcohol. The words slithered from her lips without conscious thought, morality dissolving like sugar in soju.

The sound of their skin colliding filled the kitchen—a wet, rhythmic slap that drowned out the dripping faucet and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Each impact sent Karina's breasts jolting against the sticky tabletop, her nipples rasping over frosting-smeared wood grain as her father's hips pistoned with brutal precision. Her thighs trembled violently, the split nylon of her ruined stockings catching on splinters with every forward thrust.

Karina's father groaned—a low, guttural sound that vibrated through her spine as his thrusts turned erratic, his hips stuttering against her bruised flesh. His breath came in ragged bursts against her ear, the scent of soju and sweat clinging to his lips as they brushed her earlobe.

"Oh my sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with arousal, "Daddy will leave a mark of love for you—will you accept it?"

His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her tighter against him as his cock twitched inside her, already pulsing with the first waves of his climax.

Karina nodded frantically, her damp hair sticking to the sticky tabletop as she gasped, "Y-yes, Daddy—please—!" The words dissolved into a whimper as his teeth scraped the nape of her neck, the sharp sting blending with the overwhelming fullness of his cock buried deep inside her.

“Urgh… I'm cumming “.

The first hot spurt hit Karina's inner walls like molten wax—a scalding rush that made her thighs jerk violently against the sticky table. Her father groaned through clenched teeth, his fingers biting into her hips hard enough to leave crescent-shaped bruises as his cock twitched inside her.

"Take it all, sweetheart," he gasped, hips stuttering forward with each thick pulse. Karina whimpered as warmth flooded her womb—each throb of his shaft pressing deeper, spreading his seed where no father's should ever reach.

***

"So you had sex with Dad?" you asked.

Karina looked at you—embarrassed, guilty, the ghost of her strawberry lip gloss still clinging to her bitten lower lip—and nodded. The movement was almost imperceptible, her chin dipping just enough to send a strand of sweat-damp hair sliding across her forehead.

You didn't have point to judge Karina and your father for having a taboo relationship, because you're also fucking with your own mother behind their backs.

"After that we tried to forget about it but we lost," Karina's voice cracked, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt where a loose thread unraveled like her composure. "We did it again and again until..."

TBC.

[mrdive]

I'm almost done writing Secret Lesson part 9 and maybe I can upload it in time, so for next week I decided to write, one shot.

Background of the story :

You and your daughter moved in with a new identity, the people around didn't know your true status, you claimed to be engaged. Until you invite the people in the neighborhood to attend, the wedding between you and your daughter.

Polling time

hyein

ahyeon

Voting ended onJun 22

[mrdive]

what if eunhae and his father give the 3 of them dp in the future chapters...hmm

Let's see if the "what if" will happen or not. It can be worse or better.

😈😈😈

[mrdive]

Any idol your looking forward to comeback this summer?

Most have come back earlier, such as lesserafim, Ive, aespa and baby monsters but I'm still waiting for Kwon Eunbi, I hope there is a comeback with new songs and also a waterbomb festival. Until now, there has been no news on whether Eunbi participated in the waterbomb festival or not.

[mrdive]

Announcement

After yesterday I took a hiatus due to health problems, I have somewhat improved not fully but I can still do activities as usual.

The good news is, next week I will update the Secret Lesson story as usual.

I hope you can wait it.

Little spoiler

[mrdive]

Meh, Bull POV for cuckold smut is BORING.

Because how is it any different from every other M.reader smut where OC the one doing the fucking.

Don't worry this is just for polls. I'm trying to find a new genre in the future for my stories related to Taboo, one of which is cucklod or something else, I don't know.

For now, I still use the Incest genre in the story.

[mrdive]

do you think Leeseo likes getting her ass cheeks spanked?

Isn't it obvious, Leeseo always shows his lewd ass to ask to be slapped, spank dan knead. She liked it when the hands of older men did it. For example, his father or grandfather he he he.

I'm too perverted 😈😈😈