omg imagine if jw was super nosey and looked through the readers diary and found out all the secret fantasies the reader had and tried fulfilling them in bed to suprise them
oh my god he DEF would !!!!!
her diary would be filled with a bunch of stickers and doodles that john finds cute, and he really thought her rants and thoughts about school and past boyfriends and girlfriends are all he'd find in her journal.
he didn't expect to see his name there, though. they've been fooling around her mom's back for a few weeks, but the dates of the notes goes way past the day they broke the tension and finally fucked.
there's something about the way dad's hands would always find their way to my thighs and waist. i know he doesn't think much of it, but it means so many different things to me.
they're so huge and rough, almost enough to engulf my whole thigh in one hand. and his fingers... god. this is so wrong - he's my dad! well, my step-dad, but still. he practically raised me, and here i am fantasizing sucking his fingers.
every night, i lay on my mind, thinking about how far his fingers could reach inside my pussy :( i'd cry. i can't even push my own fingers in without tearing up, and dad's fingers are so thick and long.
john raises a brow, a small smirk making its way in his face. he has already grown uncomfortably hard as his cock fattens up immediately in his pants.
i want dad to shove his fingers so deep in my cunt i'd feel it in my stomach. i keep imagining how he'd probably lick my clit at the process :( he's always been so attentive. i bet he'll always place my pleasure before his first.
and god.. when he wears his work clothes? it makes me so damn horny. he looks so big and broad in his suits. i've always had a fantasy about him fucking me while wearing one of his black suit.
he closes the journal before his eyes could even read the next sentence. he'd lose control and nut all over the place like a premature teenage boy if he keeps reading.
that same night, john would probably teasing you about it throughout dinner. he'd play with your hands while watching a movie with your mom, something he's always done ever since you were a kid, but now it has a different meaning. john finally understands just what you meant about his hands; they look absolutely huge in contrast to yours.
he wonders how you'd look like when he has his large hand around your neck as he forces his cock inside your little cunthole. you'd roll your eyes back, squirt all over his fat cock, wet all over your bed and -
when it's finally bedtime, you're not surprised when you see john sitting on your bed as this has always been the same routine with the two of you in the past few weeks. though, you turn red when you see what's in his hands.
“dad! oh my god, why do you have that -” you stutter, feeling yourself stuck in your position as your mind thinks about all the embarrassing stories and thoughts you'd written in that book. or worse, the ones about him.
he turns to you, a familiar glint in his eyes as he stands up and places the journal on the night stand. when he makes his way to you, you can't even form a single coherent words as you try to avoid his faze.
he's still in his work clothes - black suit, black pants, hair slicked up. you thought that after dinner he'd probably change and took a shower, but you can still smell the lingering cologne in his clothes and he smells and look fucking amazing.
he doesn't say anything when he stands in front of you. john raises his right hand, gripping your jaw and forcing you to finally look at him in the eyes.
“there's my good girl,” he whispers, thumb grazing your bottom lip as he watches you with hungry eyes. “my girl has the prettiest eyes.”
a reply is about to leave your mouth but replaced with a gasp when john suddenly pushes his index and middle finger inside your mouth, his left hand snaking up to your neck to keep your head in position, looking up at him with teary eyes from gagging around his fingers and gripping his wrist with your little hands to keep yourself from falling over.
“daddy's really sorry for reading your little diary, baby,” john coos, relishing the sounds of your gagging as you struggle to reply. “but i'm sure you'll forgive me once i give you what you've been fantasizing about for a long time.”
