You would have been completely fine with sneaking small glances whenever you could and leaving it at that. But the small, innocent touches started to feel not so innocent anymore. And not so accidental. A brush of knuckles against your elbow. The graze of his hand down your back. His hands at your hips, finger tips pressing in and moving you out of his way. The tension began to build, threatening to snap whenever you felt his eyes on you. He had a slight smattering of grey hair at his temples, broad shoulders that framed his body perfectly and thick veins that ran down his forearm’s. He just had this certain presence about him that you couldn’t help but be drawn to, raw and magnetic. You really shouldn’t have been so captivated by him. He was your boyfriend’s Dad, after all.
But then it didn’t matter who he was. Because your boyfriend went and cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about. It only seemed fair that you’d get your own bite of the apple. Which is how you found yourself bent over the couch, taking his Dad’s cock. A dirty little fantasy come to life. Because God help you, it had been a fantasy of yours for so long. Longer than you could comfortably admit. You sometimes found yourself day dreaming about him, pretending that it was him stretching you open, imagining him calling you his dirty little girl and not your boyfriend.
Those fantasies were now your current reality. The day you’d found out about your ex, you’d somehow found yourself at his Dads house, hand raised to begin knocking. It wasn’t a conscious thought on your part, your body just knew what it was hungry for. Your mind was just taking a minute to catch up.
The door swings open and there he is. Taller and bigger and so much fucking hotter than your ex. That magnetic energy you were so drawn to is heavy in the air, making your pulse quicken and sweat begins to bead on your brow. You didn’t have a plan, no idea what to do now that you were actually in front of him. Face to face.
His eyes land hard on yours, pausing for a moment, before trailing down your body and then back up. Shifting slightly on your feet, you work hard not to flush under his attention. “I heard what happened. Fucking dumbass.” You just shrug a shoulder as nonchalant as you can, not interested in rehashing the details of how truly idiotic his son was.
Instead, you blurt out the one question that’s been burning at the tip of your tongue since he opened the door. “Can I come in?” Silence permeates the air, anticipation bubbling in your stomach. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls the door open, large hands sweeping towards the entrance. Inviting you in. You take a steadying breath in and as you brush by him you’re hit with the dizzying scent of him, a faint trace of sweat and something smoky.
You find yourself standing in the living room, your eyes brushing over the photos of your ex on the wall. It sent a thrill through your body, just knowing that your ex had no clue what was about to happen. What you needed to happen. This carnal hunger you’d had for his Dad, this aching tensity between you both had been heading towards a precipice and it seemed you had finally reached the cliffs edge. Who would be the first to tip over?
You open your mouth to say something, to try and break the rising tension but he breaks first. He reaches an arm out and roughly yanks you towards him with a firm hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging in sharply. Hauling you into his hard body, his mouth lands on yours, hungry, desperate, and wet.
There’s nothing soft or sweet about this. It’s filthy, so different from what you were used to. But so much better. His tongue tangles with yours, sucking it into his mouth. He withdraws for a second, just long enough to mutter “We shouldn’t be doing this” before latching onto your bottom lip, biting down and then soothing it with a few swipes of his tongue. He was right. You shouldn’t be doing this. Which was precisely why you wanted to so badly.
A small greedy moan slips through your lips and it makes him grin against your mouth. You reach up, twining your fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly in your fists, the soft strands slipping through easily. He eases back a step and you can’t help but make a murmured protest, following the movement, desperate to keep contact with him.
He stops you with a rough hand on your jaw, thumb pushing past your lips to rest on your tongue and the rest of his fingers pressed into your jaw. He tilts your head up, making sure your eyes are on his. His eyes flicker between yours, a silent war waging but he must come to a decision because he says “Are you sure about this? Because once I take you,” He places his other hand on your neck, gently wrapping his fingers around it like a collar, “you become mine. There’s no going back. You understand?” You lose track of your surroundings for a moment, so overwhelmed by him that you’re struck dumb. “Use your words.” Warmth spreads through your limbs and you pull back slightly, but not enough to displace his hands. You keep your eyes on him, blue against brown, and with a soft whisper, you seal your fate. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He sucks in a sharp inhale through his nose and you can feel his fingers tightening ever so slightly. “Wicked little thing. You been thinkin’ about me?” His pupils are blown wide and you can see the pulse in his neck. Thump. Thump. Thump. All of his muscles are clenched. A man on the edge of losing his tightly gripped control. So you decide to tip him right over.
You lean into his grip, and the truth slips out, a teasing grin flirting at the edges of your lips. “I think about you every time I touch myself. It’s your name ringing in my head when I cum.” A choked noise escapes his throat. He tilts your head up, calloused hands cupping your face so that you’re forced to look up at him, his thumbs sweeping across your cheekbones. “Filthy girl. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”
He lets go of you and backs up a few steps, taking a seat on a chair, hands gripping the armrests. “Strip for me. I want to see every inch of you.” You draw in a shaky breath, nerves prickling along your skin. But you obey with little hesitation, wanting to prove to him how badly you’d been wanting this. How badly you wanted him. You reach down to the hem of your little tank top and ease it over your head achingly slow. You drop your arms, letting the tank drift to the floor, now just standing in paper thin panties that were doing nothing to hide the growing slickness between your thighs. An ache was spreading, starting at your cunt and working its way across your body. His eyes were on you, dragging across every exposed inch of skin, greedily taking you in.
“Keep going, drag those little panties off.”
You slip your fingers between the thin straps at your hips and ease them down your body, gingerly stepping out of them once they reach the carpet. His gruff voice makes you pause once you stand back up, “Be a good girl for me. Show me how wet your cunt is.”
Your eyes widen and goosebumps spread along your body. It’s such a dirty request, so vulgar, but you can feel the small dribble of wetness slip out at his words, coating your thighs. He pats his thigh, and motions you towards him, indicating that you should rest one of your legs on his thigh. Heat engulfs you, spreading along your face and body, embarrassment and white hot attraction battling for dominance. You step towards him and he spreads his thighs wide, making space for you. You step between them and gingerly place a pretty polished foot on his thigh. You can feel a rush of air hit you between your legs making you excruciatingly aware of how wet and sticky your thighs have become.
“Dirty little slut. Look at you, so obedient. Can you spread that pretty pussy open for Daddy? Let me see how wet you are.” An embarrassingly high pitched whine escapes your throat, the word Daddy ringing inside your head. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Why is that so hot?” He just grins at you, sharp teeth and wicked intent clear on his face, and nudges his chin in your direction.
You realize in that moment that you are desperate to please him, to do whatever it is he asks of you. He has this control over you that is both startling and familiar. Like it was always supposed to be this way. One of your hands begins skimming down your waist, pausing once it reaches the apex of your thighs. You dip your fingers between the slick lips of your cunt, and circle your clit with a soft, teasing brush. You breathe out shakily and with two fingers, you spread yourself open, hips tilting towards him so he can see exactly what it is he asked for.
He lets loose a ragged groan, head lolling back against the chair, keeping his eyes focused on where you’re holding yourself open. “Fuckkkk, look at you. Such a pretty pussy.” He continues looking but circles one of his rough hands around your ankle and pulls you toward him more. You’re now even more spread open, no way to hide the evidence of what his words and presence do to you. You were this wet, this soaked, because of him. You had his attention and now you wanted to keep it.
He lifts his eyes briefly to yours and then flicks back down, as if it’s physically impossible for him to look away. Heat begins building in your stomach, knowing that you’ve caused this reaction in him turning you on more than anything else could.
“Touch yourself. Show me what you like. I want to see you drip down your wrist.” You know how you must look, spread open before this older man, wild and eager to please, so wanton. You just imagine what your ex would think if he knew what you were doing. It makes more wetness coat your fingers at the thought. Your fingers drag up and begin circling your clit with small strokes, and just that brief touch causes your hips to stutter. A whine slips through your lips. You’re throbbing. And you’ve barely been touched.
He brings you back into focus with a sharp swat to your thigh, urging you on. “I didn’t tell you to stop. Fuck yourself. I want you as messy as you can get. You’re gonna need it.” He almost snarls this and you realize how on edge he is. The desperation you feel? He feels it just as much.
You nudge two of your fingers inside and can feel how slippery you are, how tightly your cunt grips your fingers. Your head falls forward and you blink at him, lips parted and skin dewy with sweat. “This is how I do it, Daddy.” The word slips out easily, almost unconsciously. It felt…right. “I pretend it’s your cock filling me up, splitting me open.”
The effect those words have on him is immediate. He grunts and reaches down to palm the hard length between his legs, giving it a few rough strokes over his jeans. “Christ, you keep talking like that, and you’ll find yourself bent over my couch.”
Those words cause the ache to build and build. You can’t help but go faster, push deeper, hips grinding into your hand. Your juices spill down your wrist and coat your thighs. The smell of you drenches the air around you. Your other hand wanders upwards and you roll a nipple between your fingers, pinching and twisting. A whining, desperate cry slips from your lips and a shudder wracks your body, pleasure rolling over you in waves. Your body jerks from the aftershocks and you have to balance against his shoulder for a moment. One of his hands reaches down between your thighs and swipes between your folds, bringing it back up glistening and wet, to then pop into his mouth, a hungry growl leaving his mouth. You watch open mouthed as he sucks on his fingers. “You did so good.” he says while licking off the rest of you from his fingers, “Got messy just like I told you to. But I think you can get messier.”
He says nothing else, just hauls you towards him, and in one swift motion, he stands up with your ass gripped tightly in his hands. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pussy sliding against his stomach, coating him in your wetness. Marking him. You start grinding against him, trying to get a little relief. He takes a few steps forward and then stops. You take a peek over your shoulder and see the back of his couch. He wasn’t joking when he said he wanted to bend you over his couch.
He drops you and immediately spins you around with his hands on your hips. Your hands grasp the back of the couch and you bend over, arching your back. Your ass meets his jean clad thighs and your chest presses into the soft fabric of the couch.
“Look at you. I can use you however I want. My own little toy.” He smooths a palm up your back and then pushes down, making you arch even further. He grinds his hips into your ass, making you feel every hard inch of him. “Jesus Christ, you’re soaking my jeans.” You hear the clank of a belt buckle and a zipper being drawn down so you twist your body slightly to look back at him. The sight of him makes you whine. He’s still fully clothed, just has his jeans shoved open with his cock in his fist giving it a few slow strokes. Pre-cum beads at the tip, the head flushed and glistening. Your cunt clenches at the thought of it stretching you open.
He catches you looking at his cock and says in gentle mocking tone, “You like watching me fuck my fist? I felt it was only fair after seeing what a beautiful job you did on yourself.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just pushes your face forward and kicks your legs farther apart with his boots. You grip the couch cushions in anticipation, every nerve on fire. His hands spread your ass apart and a lewd spitting sound fills the air. You feel a splash of wetness land on you, slipping down your ass, then lower. Did he just…spit on you?
“You’re such a dirty little whore, knocking on my door, practically begging me to fuck you…” Your face flames at that shameless truth. “So I thought I’d better fuck you like one. Daddy’s little whore.” His fingers spread the spit down, smearing it all over you, dipping inside your pussy before gripping his cock.
He doesn’t give you any warning after that, just notches the head of his cock at your entrance and with a tight roll of his hips, buries himself inside you. A choked groan is dragged from his throat. Your body jerks, tensing from the intrusion, but he just grips you harder, a tight bruising cage. “This is what you wanted. What you asked for. So be a good girl. And fucking. Take. It.”
He doesn’t pause, he doesn’t let you adjust to the size of him, he just moves. He eases his hips back, dragging his cock against your slick walls and then shoves back inside you. Hard, deep, thrusts that jolt your body with every powerful movement. Each slam of his hips against yours ripping panting moans from your lips. You had never been fucked like this before. Your ex liked calm, sweet, under the covers sex. This raw, frantic melding of bodies was almost too much for you.
“Fuck, you’re taking my cock so well.”
He presses his chest against your back, putting the full wait of his body on yours, snapping his hips in a brutal rhythm. One of his hands fists in your hair, forcing your head back and making you arch your back even further. You’re held taut between his fist in your hair and his other hand on your hip, so tight that you know there will be finger shaped bruises later.
Your mouth drops open and noises that you never knew you could make slip past your lips. Strangled whimpers, breathy cries, every noise only seeming to spur him on.
“You like it when I use you, don’t you? My own personal fuck toy.” Each word is punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips. You nod your head as much as you can, too far gone to do much else. “God, I can feel how much I’m stretching you. I’m the only one that can fill your tight fucking cunt this way, huh?“
“Yesyesyes! Only you.” You sob, words spilling out in a garbled, drooling mess. “You fill me so much better than he ever could.” That seems to set him off. He keeps rutting into you, the sound filthy and vulgar. Keeping his hips steady, he lets go of your hair and you flop forward against the couch, cheek pressed onto the edge.
You feel the press of two calloused fingers on your clit, rubbing in fast circles. The pleasure so intense that there was an edge of pain to it, sharp and biting. A strange feeling begins building inside of you, spreading through your limbs. Your cunt clenches, small pulses that were more a warning than anything else.
His hips stutter and his voice grates out, “You gonna make a mess all over me?”
That was all you needed, a broken begging noise dragging out of you. The rush of the climax slams into you, spreading along your entire body in violent shockwaves. Your body shudders and your vision blurs. Your pussy spasms and warmth squirts out in a rush of liquid, soaking the couch, dripping down your thighs and completely drenching his jeans.
“Fuck fuck fuck! Did I just…?” Slurred words tumble out of your mouth. You’re still hazy with shock and pleasure.
He moans, gutteral and low, hips jerking. “Yeah, little girl. You just squirted all over Daddy’s cock.” His hips lose their rhythm, just mindlessly slamming into you, his body plastered over you. His sweat and your release coat the air with a musky scent, intoxicating and heady.
“So perfect. Your tight little hole takin’ me so well. My perfect little plaything, all mine” Every murmured praise causes your cunt to clench, small aftershocks rippling across your body.
He shoves his face into your neck and bites down, hard, a grunt escaping. You feel his cock throb inside you, warm cum spilling out and drenching you. His voice is breathless, but so very satisfied when he speaks, “You feel that? I made a mess of you, just like I said I would.”
You both lay there for moment, chests heaving, his weight still heavy on your back. This moment, right here, when you’re sweaty, breathless and half delirious from pleasure, is when you decide. Dads did it better. Your ex didn’t know it yet, but you’d just been fucked by his Dad. And you planned on doing it again. And again. You’d keep doing it until you weren’t just his ex… you’d have a whole new label. Step-mom.
