Dec 1 - Stepdad!Toji ₊˚⊹❄
Family Cums First
Stepdad!Toji made it his personal mission to look after you ever since your mother left to play house with some guy she met at the gym.
Mom had been gone less than two weeks when Stepdad!Toji started to leave little notes in your lunchbox—dumb stuff, like “Don’t forget your vitamins!” or “Proud of you, brat.”
He started waking up at ass o’clock to make you breakfast, and you never even got to the stairs anymore before he was there, plucking you up like a misbehaving kitten and carting you off to the kitchen table.
Sometimes you felt like a dog, or maybe a princess in one of those cartoons where the king has only one daughter and is so obsessed with keeping her safe that she’s not even allowed to cut her own meat.
Stepdad!Toji who’d only been in the family three years, but acted like he’d raised you from birth. The first week Mom was gone, he asked for a key to your diary “in case you go full Wednesday Addams on me, kid.”
By the second week, he’d basically hotwired your entire routine. Morning protein shakes, checked your homework, drove you everywhere (“the bus is full of future criminals,” Toji grunted), and made sure you’d never have to walk home alone like one of those dumbass missing kids on the true crime shows he watched after midnight.
Stepdad!Toji who just could not keep his hands to himself.
At first, it was regular parent stuff—a heavy hand ruffling your hair, a pat-pat on your shoulder, his huge knuckle rapping you on the head when you said something dumb.
But then it became a hand at your lower back guiding you up the stairs, a palm on your thigh when he handed you the TV remote, and—at least once a day—a playful but unmistakably hard slap to the ass if you walked too slow ahead of him.
You started to notice how he’d always be within arm’s reach, how his cologne stuck to your hoodie when he wrestled you into a headlock on the couch, how his shadow literally blocked out the sun if you sat at the kitchen table with your laptop. Your friends said you were lucky, but they didn’t see the way Stepdad!Toji’s gaze lingered just a second too long on your legs when you wore shorts, or how his eyes flicked to your lips when you sipped orange juice from a straw.
Stepdad!Toji who believed a man should provide. He made a game of carrying you—sometimes for no reason, like when you were just sitting in your room and he’d burst in, scoop you up and toss you over his shoulder like a rolled-up rug.
You’d laugh and kick, but he wouldn’t put you down until he’d marched all the way to the living room or, if he was in a weird mood, dumped you on his own unmade bed and dared you to “try and escape.” Sometimes, after track practice, he’d piggyback you up the stairs when your calves cramped, his grip uncomfortably tight around your knees.
You liked it. You didn’t say it, but you liked it.
Stepdad!Toji who made a ceremony out of period week.
He’d mark it on the kitchen calendar with a dumb red sticker (“for science!” he claimed), then treat it like a national holiday.
Heating pad, ice cream, movie marathons—you didn’t have to do chores, didn’t even have to get out of bed if you didn’t want to.
The best part was the massages. Stepdad!Toji would knock once, then walk in with a mug of cocoa and ask, “Where’s it hurt, princess?” You'd point to your shoulders, or sometimes your lower back, and he’d rub at the knots with huge, warm hands that smelled like peppermint gum and cigarette smoke.
If he caught you wincing, he’d pull you into his lap and massage your thighs too, which always left you dizzy and a little giggly by the time he finished. You called him a perv; he just grinned and said, “Better me than some loser at your school.”
Stepdad!Toji who always left the bathroom door open when he showered—“in case you set the house on fire,” he claimed—and didn’t bother with a towel on the way out.
The first few times, you freaked out and slammed your door, but then you started peeking.
Stepdad!Toji’s body was all muscle and scars; the heavy line of his jaw, the mean set of his eyes, even the faded tattoos made him look like a bouncer in an illegal nightclub.
You imagined all the stuff he’d done before he met Mom, the kind of fights he must’ve had, the way he probably broke people’s noses for fun. You wondered if anyone ever broke his heart, and if that was why he spoiled you.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t bother to hide his affection, not even when Megumi was around. Megumi, his biological son, was two years older than you and never home, and when he was, he just grunted at the two of you and sulked in his room.
Once, when Toji thought you were asleep on the couch, you heard him tell Megumi, “She’s all I got left, so yeah, I’ll do whatever it takes.” Megumi called him a creep. You secretly agreed, but it made you feel safe.
Stepdad!Toji who bought you a necklace with your name on it, then made a show of clasping it around your neck while you were still in pajamas. You'd never worn jewelry before, but when he pressed the little pendant flat against your collarbone, his finger lingered, tracing the hollow at the base of your throat. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and he laughed—“Cute. No boys are getting near you while I’m alive.”
Stepdad!Toji who got weirdly gentle if you ever cried. When you failed your calculus test, he found you balled up in your closet and didn’t even ask what happened—just sat beside you, silent and patient, until you ran out of tears. Then he wiped your face with the hem of his shirt and held you so tight you could barely breathe, rocking you like you were a little kid again.
“You’re not allowed to be sad, baby,” he said. “Not while I’m here.”
Stepdad!Toji who always called you baby, or princess, or brat, or if you pissed him off, “little monster.”
You pretended to hate it, but there was something about the way he said it—so rough and fond at the same time—that made your stomach drop. You started to notice how he’d say it in a lower voice if you stood too close to him in the kitchen, or if you wore his old t-shirts and nothing else. You noticed that sometimes, when you argued back or tried to “sass” him, his eyes would go dark and his hands would clench like he was holding himself back.
Stepdad!Toji who always bought you stuff, but made you work for it. If you wanted a new hoodie, you had to sit on his lap for twenty minutes while he “interrogated” you about your friends. If you wanted pizza for dinner, you had to arm-wrestle him for it. If you wanted extra allowance, he’d set impossible chores like “clean my room” or “help me shave my chest.”
You complained, but secretly loved it when he wrestled you into submission and called you his “spoiled brat.” You liked the way he held your wrists, the heat of his skin, the hint of danger in every touch.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t believe in boundaries, but made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.
When you got sick, he called off work and tucked you in bed, reading you dumb stories in his deep, slow voice until you fell asleep. When you came home late from a party, he didn’t yell—just pulled you into his chest and muttered, “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” You promised you wouldn’t, even though you don’t really mean it.
Stepdad!Toji who made you feel safe, but also made you want things you didn’t have a name for. You started to notice how your heart sped up when he touched you, how your thighs pressed together when he brushed your hair out of your face, how you caught yourself looking at his hands and wondering what else they could do. You told yourself it was just hormones, or trauma, or maybe both, but the feeling never went away.
Stepdad!Toji who always told you that you were his, like it was a promise and a threat at the same time. When you and Stepdad!Toji watched movies on the couch, he’d pull you into the crook of his arm and hold you tight, whispering dumb commentary in your ear until you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe.
When you baked cookies and messed up the recipe, he ate the entire tray anyway, then licked the batter off your fingers and called you a “dummy” with that crooked, dangerous smile.
Stepdad!Toji who made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one with a secret.
Sometimes you caught him staring at you in the mornings, eyes hooded and hungry, his jaw tight like he was biting back something mean. You wanted to know what he was thinking when he looked at you like that. You wanted to be the only thing on his mind.
Stepdad!Toji who never gave you a second of privacy, not even when you said you needed it. On a lazy Saturday with Megumi out at soccer, you found yourself on all fours, digging under the couch for the remote you dropped. You just about got your fingers on it when Stepdad!Toji’s shadow blotted out the sunlight, heavy and close behind you.
Stepdad!Toji who hovered a little too close, pretending to supervise. “You lose more stuff under this couch than the fucking Bermuda Triangle,” he grumbled, but his voice was way lower than usual.
When you craned your neck to snipe back, you caught the heat in his eyes as he looked you up and down—your ass in gym shorts, the sweaty strip of skin at the small of your back.
Stepdad!Toji who waited until you were really reaching, your cheek almost pressed to the floor, before dropping the remote just out of your reach and making you scramble for it again.
“C’mon, brat, you got T-Rex arms?” he taunted, but didn’t move to help. Instead, he made a big deal of groaning as he crouched behind you, knees spreading the sides of your hips, his presence gigantic and oppressive.
Stepdad!Toji who made a show of adjusting himself, the bulge in his sweats suddenly way more obvious than before. You pretended not to notice, face burning. “Keep your pants on, perv,” you muttered, swatting back at him.
Stepdad!Toji who did not, in fact, keep his pants on. By the time you surfaced, red-faced and holding the remote like a trophy, he’d hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his waistband and tugged it down enough to let his dick spring free.
And. It. Was. Huge.
You'd never seen it all the way out before—you'd caught glimpses in the laundry or shower, but never up close, never this hard. It was thick and heavy, the color of wet brick, and you stared, slack-jawed, as he wrapped his palm around the shaft and started stroking, slow and shameless.
Stepdad!Toji who grinned like he’d caught you cheating on a test. “You really gonna gawk like that?” he drawled, giving himself a few slow pumps. The tip was angry and red, shiny with precum. “You gonna help Daddy, or just stare with your mouth open?”
Stepdad!Toji who tapped the blunt tip of his cock against your chin, not hard but enough to make you flinch. You jerked back, eyes flicking from his dick to his face and back again, breath coming faster now. “You’re such a creep,” you hissed, but didn’t move away.
Stepdad!Toji who leaned in, his huge hand cradling the back of your skull. “Yeah? But you like it,” he said, voice so deep it made your bones rattle. He let the head of his cock smear a trail across your glossed lips, then pressed it to your mouth, testing you. “Open up, baby. Don’t make Daddy ask twice.”
Stepdad!Toji who had ruined you with his attention. You should’ve spat in his face, or bit him, but your lips parted automatically, tongue flicking out to taste the salty smear of him. He made a noise, almost a growl, and pushed forward until the head forced your jaw wider, the stretch overwhelming but weirdly hot.
Stepdad!Toji who gathered your hair into a loose ponytail, winding it around his fist like he was taking the reins on a misbehaving animal.
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, voice thick. “Knew you’d be good for Daddy.” He fed you more—another inch, then another—until you gagged a little and tried to pull back, but he just stroked your cheek with his free hand and said, “Shh, relax. Let me take care of you.”
Stepdad!Toji who treated you like you were something precious and breakable, but also like you were made just for him. He rocked his hips, not too rough, but enough to make you feel the heaviness, the obscene length of him crowding your mouth. Your eyes watered, spit dripping down your chin, and he moaned like he’d never felt anything better.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around Daddy’s cock,” he groaned. “You want more?”
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t wait for an answer. He eased himself deeper, slow but relentless, holding your hair tight to keep you from escaping. The salt and heat of him filled your mouth, your throat, made your head go dizzy. Every time you gagged, he pulled out a little, but not all the way—just enough to let you breathe, then right back in, making you take a little more each time.
Stepdad!Toji who kept his gaze locked on yours, his eyes dark and wild, every muscle in his body straining not to just slam all the way home. “That’s it, princess. You’re doing so fucking good. Daddy’s proud of you,” he panted, his cock twitching in your mouth.
Stepdad!Tojii who smeared precum across your lips, then thumbed it into the corners of your mouth, like he was painting you with it. “Look at you,” he said, “all drooly and messy for me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” You tried to nod, and he laughed. “Bet you never wanna stop, huh?”
Stepdad!Toji who stroked your hair, gentle now, and pulled you off his cock with a wet pop. You gasped for air, lips swollen and glistening, chin shiny with spit. He wiped your face with his thumb, then cupped your jaw and tilted your head up. “You okay, brat?” he asked, and for a second, he almost looked worried.
Stepdad!Toji who relaxed when you grinned up at him, eyes bright and greedy. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and musk of him, and said, “You gonna let me finish or what?”
Stepdad!Toji who threw his head back and laughed, the sound rumbling out of his chest. “Fuck, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, and then he was guiding your mouth back to his cock, holding you just the way he wanted, showing you exactly what Daddy needed.
Stepdad!Toji who held you so tight you couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe right, and that was exactly how he wanted you.
He fisted your hair in one hand, the other cupping the back of your head, guiding you up and down the length of him until your throat burned and your jaw ached. “That’s it,” he panted, hips rolling steady. “Take it all, princess. Show Daddy how hungry you are.”
Stepdad!Toji who watched, fascinated, as his cock bulged your cheeks and stretched your lips wide. You barely had time to adjust before he started pushing deeper, testing how far you could take him. Every time you choked or coughed, he groaned and stroked your hair, telling you that you were his “good girl” and “brave little slut.” You liked those words—liked how they made your skin prickle and your belly twist tight. You clung to his thighs, digging your nails in, trying to hold yourself steady as he fucked your mouth in slow, punishing strokes.
Stepdad!Toji who let out a low whistle when your lips finally met his fist, your nose buried in the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Holy shit,” he said, voice gone shaky. “You’re a natural, baby.” He loosened his grip, and you almost collapsed back, sputtering and gasping for air, spit stringing between your chin and the tip of his dick. He laughed, wiped your face, and pulled your right back down, not letting you rest for more than a heartbeat.
Stepdad!Toji who could’ve spent all day watching you slobber and drool all over him, the messier the better. “You like Daddy’s cock that much?” he teased, bouncing you on the tip of his dick. “Never seen a girl so desperate for it. Gonna suck me dry, huh?” You moaned, the sound muffled and broken, but you nodded, tongue flicking out to lap at the salty smear on his head.
Stepdad!Toji who got so worked up he forgot to play nice. He started moving rougher, shoving your mouth down until your throat spasmed around him. You gagged, eyes streaming, but didn’t stop—didn’t even try to. The more he pushed, the more you wanted it, the more you needed to make him lose control. You opened wider, swallowing around him, letting your lips slide all the way down until your chin was flush against his balls.
Stepdad!Toji who watched your face turn pink, then red, his hand gentling when he realized you were getting light-headed. He pulled you off, cock glistening with spit and precum, and grinned when you gasped for air, eyes wild and greedy. “Fuck, I almost broke you,” he said, pride obvious in his voice. “You okay, brat?” You just blinked up at him, lips shiny and swollen, then dove right back in, eager to finish what you started.
Stepdad!Toji who realized his stepdaughter was a goddamn slut. Even when he tried to let you breathe, you stubbornly swallowed his dick down, taking more and more each time. Your tongue traced every vein, your lips formed a perfect seal, and when he finally lost it and pushed you down hard, you didn’t fight at all. You just moaned, eyes rolling back, happy as could be with your mouth stuffed full.
Stepdad!Toji who nearly came on the spot when he saw your face—nose pressed to his pubes, cheeks hollowed, drool pouring out of the corners of your mouth. He’d never seen anything so fucking hot, and he had to grab the edge of the counter to keep from blowing right then and there. “You’re fucking unreal,” he growled, voice breaking. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”
Stepdad!Toji who yanked you off at the last second, not wanting to ruin the surprise for later. His cock slapped wetly against your face, leaving shiny streaks down your cheek and neck. You coughed, wiped your mouth, then giggled, spit and precum dribbling onto your chest. He stared at you—his perfect, filthy girl—and felt his heart slam in his chest.
Stepdad!Toji who let you kneel there, a mess of drool and lust, while he caught his breath and tried to remember how to talk. “You want more?” he finally said, voice rough and shaking.
Stepdad!Toji who already knew the answer.
Stepdad!Toji who grabbed you by the ponytail, hauled you up off your knees, and dropped you into his lap like you weighed nothing. You squealed, giggling, still wiping spit from your lips, but he didn’t wait—just splayed your thighs over his, pushing your shorts aside until your soaked panties were all that separated you from him. “Can’t believe you’re this wet for me already,” he said, voice thick with pride. He pawed at you, fingers finding the sticky patch at the crotch and pressing hard enough to make your hips buck. “Fucking hell, baby. Daddy’s got you trained, huh?”
Stepdad!Toji who hooked his thumbs in your waistband and tore your shorts and panties off in one brutal motion, leaving you bare and shivery in his lap. He let his cock slap against your slit, rubbing the length up and down, painting you with precum until you were glossy and slick. “So fucking pretty,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and then he grabbed your ass and ground you down against his dick, teasing your clit with every roll of his hips.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t wait for permission. He lined himself up, spit in his hand for good measure, and spread you open with his fingers. “Ready?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. Then he pushed in—just the tip at first, stretching you open, making you gasp and shudder. He watched your face, searching for pain or fear, but all he saw was hunger.
Stepdad!Toji who realized in that second that he didn’t know if you’d ever done this before. You were tight as hell, and every inch he fed you made you tremble and clutch his shoulders. He slowed down, cupped your cheek, and whispered, “You okay, princess?” When you bit your lip and nodded, he smiled—proud, smug, and a little in love. “That’s my girl. Take it slow, yeah? Let Daddy in.”
Stepdad!Toji who rocked you back and forth, easing his cock deeper by fractions, letting you get used to the stretch. You whined, buried your face in his neck, and dug your nails into his arms, but you didn’t tell him to stop. He kissed your temple, your cheek, your eyelids—gentle, almost sweet, even as he split you open. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he whispered. “Just a little more.”
Stepdad!Toji who almost lost it when he bottomed out, your cunt clamping down hard around him. He held you there, buried deep, savoring how small you felt in his lap, how completely you belonged to him. You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes, so he wiped them away and kissed you hard, tongue pushing into your mouth like he owned it.
Stepdad!Toji who hated to see you cry, even if it was from something he did. “You okay?” he asked again, this time softer, like a secret. You nodded, but your whole body was shaking, your breath coming in desperate little sobs. He rubbed your back, kissed your neck, did everything he could to distract you from the ache. “Shh, shh, Daddy’s got you,” he crooned. “You’re safe with me, baby. Always.”
Stepdad!Toji who let you adjust, cradling you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you stopped shaking. He felt every little spasm, every clench of your cunt around his cock, and it drove him fucking wild, but he waited—let you be the one to move first. When you finally did, rocking your hips in tiny circles, he almost cried with relief. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re perfect. You’re fucking perfect.”
Stepdad!Toji who started slow, just rocking you gently, letting you ride him at your own pace. He guided your hips, hands huge and steady, but didn’t force anything. Every time you whimpered or cried out, he kissed you and told you how proud he was. “You’re making Daddy so happy,” he growled, biting at your ear. “Taking me so good, baby. Didn’t know you could be such a slut for me.”
Stepdad!Toji who never stopped touching you, stroking your thighs, your back, your hair. He wanted you to feel loved, even as he ruined you for anyone else. You clung to him, whimpering into his neck, but every minute you got bolder, grinding down harder, chasing the feeling that had your thighs trembling and your toes curling.
Stepdad!Toji who held your ass, squeezing and spreading you open as he bounced you on his cock. He fucked up into you, just a little at first, but then more as you started begging for it. “Please, Daddy,” you whined, tears forgotten, eyes wild and shining. “Harder, please—need it so bad—”
Stepdad!Toji who couldn’t say no to you, not ever. He grabbed your hips and slammed you down, bottoming out so hard the slap echoed off the walls. You screamed, clinging to him like a lifeline, and he felt your cunt spasm around his cock, milking him for everything he had.
Stepdad!Toji who smothered you in kisses, leaving a constellation of hickeys blooming down your neck and collarbone. He sucked and bit at your skin, lavishing you with attention every time you gasped or whimpered from the stretch of his cock inside you. “Shh, you’re okay, baby,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your ear. “Daddy’s gonna make it feel so good.”
Stepdad!Toji who cradled you in his arms, holding you tight even as he fucked you open, but didn’t notice at first when you started to move on your own. The initial pain faded to a dull throb, and you rocked your hips in tiny circles, rolling your clit against the base of his dick until your moans turned desperate and hungry. You clung to him, nails digging crescents into his back, moving faster and bolder with every thrust.
Stepdad!Toji who suddenly realized he’d lost control. “Whoa,” he laughed, voice breathless. “Getting greedy, princess?” He tried to hold you still, but you just writhed harder, chasing your own pleasure. He groaned, fingers sinking into your hips, but it wasn’t enough—you were riding him like you owned him.
Stepdad!Toji who leaned back on the couch, knuckles white on the cushion as you bounced in his lap. Every slap of skin on skin sent a shock through his body, and he watched, mesmerized, as your tits jiggled with every bounce. “Look at you,” he growled, half in awe. “Didn’t know you had it in you, brat.”
Stepdad!Toji who let you use him, helpless and a little proud. He watched your face—eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a needy O—and felt his cock throb at the sight. “You want it rough, huh?” he taunted, but you just moaned, grinding down so hard he saw stars.
Stepdad!Toji who finally broke, grabbing your ass with both hands and fucking up into you with everything he had. You squealed, clinging to him for dear life, but then you lunged for his neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. He roared, head thrown back, as you left hickeys and scratches all down his shoulders.
Stepdad!Toji who had never, in his whole fucked-up life, wanted anyone as bad as he wanted you.
Stepdad!Toji who almost lost it when you leaned in, licking the sweat from his throat, your nails raking trails down his chest. “Mine,” you breathed, voice shaking. “You’re mine now, Daddy.”
Stepdad!Toji who was so deep in you, so lost in the feeling, that when you yanked his head down and crushed your mouths together, he lost it instantly. He groaned into the kiss, cock pulsing as he filled you up, hips jerking helplessly even as you kept grinding, milking every last drop from him. You moaned, the sound low and guttural, your own climax shuddering through your body in waves.
Stepdad!Toji who held you tight while you both came, your thighs locked around his waist, his arms wrapped like steel bands around your back. He kissed you like he was starving, like you were the only air in the room, and didn’t stop until your shaking slowed and you melted against him, boneless and blissed out.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t pull out, not even when you finally slumped limp against his chest. Instead, he scooped you up—still full of his cum, his cock still buried deep—and carried you through the apartment to the bathroom. You giggled, weak and floaty, as he set you down on the edge of the tub.
Stepdad!Toji who ran the bath, warm and perfect, then settled behind you in the water, pulling your back to his chest. He washed your hair, massaged your scalp, kissed your shoulder with every rinse. “You’re such a mess, brat,” he teased, but his hands were soft, careful, reverent. He soaped you up, made sure every inch was clean, then pulled you onto his lap all over again, sliding his cock inside like it belonged there.
Stepdad!Toji who couldn’t get enough, not even after he’d already ruined you once. He fucked you in the tub, slow and lazy, water sloshing over the sides while you rode him in sleepy little thrusts. You whined every time his cock slipped out, so he held your hips steady, making sure you were always full, always his.
Stepdad!Toji who carried you to your room after, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. He dropped you on the bed, then bent you over the mattress, spreading you open and filling you up again, this time even deeper, even rougher. You screamed into the sheets, begging him not to stop, and he didn’t—not until they’d both come again, and again, and again.
Stepdad!Toji who finally let you rest, both of you collapsed in a tangle of limbs and sweat, his cum still leaking out of you and down your thighs. He pulled you close, tucked your head under his chin, and stroked your hair while your breathing slowed.
Stepdad!Toji who, just before you drifted off, whispered, “You’re mine forever, brat. Never letting you go.”
Stepdad!Toji who meant it.
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