100 Nights Of Sin: Erotica Short Stories

Chapter Four: Step-Father’s Poker Night

The cigar smoke hangs thick and sweet in the den, curling around the chandelier like it’s trying to cover for what’s already in the air.

Five of David’s friends sit around the poker table. Cards in their hands, ice clinking in heavy glasses. They’re laughing about some golf swing when I walk in barefoot, carrying a tray of fresh beers.

I’ve been starving for this moment for three straight months.

Three months of tiny shorts riding up when I reached for cereal.

Three months of “accidentally” brushing my t**s against his arm in the hallway.

Three months of hearing him jerk off through the wall at 2 a.m. while I rubbed my c**t and bit my pillow so he wouldn’t hear me moan his name.

Tonight I’m done waiting.

The white cotton shorts are so short the bottom curve of my ass shows when I walk. The tank top is old, thin, and the air-conditioning is cranked all the way up. My n*****s are rock-hard and poking straight through the fabric like they’re begging for his mouth.

Every head snaps to me. The room goes dead quiet except for the low hum of the AC.

David is dealing the next hand. He doesn’t look up at first. Then he does.

His eyes lock on me and the cards freeze in his fingers. I watch his pupils blow wide, watch his throat work as he swallows. His gaze drags down my body, slow, filthy, like he’s already f*****g me in his head. When it comes back up it’s pure fire.

I lean over the table to set the tray down, arching my back just enough that the shorts ride higher and the tank gapes at the neck. My t**s almost spill out. One bottle tips and rolls. Cold beer sloshes across the tip.

“Oops,” I say, soft and sweet.

David’s chair scrapes back so hard it almost tips. “Ava.”

My name in his mouth is raw. Possessive. Nothing fatherly about it.

“Go change,” he says, voice low, dangerous.

I bite my lip, tilt my head. “But I’m comfortable, David.”

His knuckles go white on the edge of the table. “Now.”

I step closer, right up to his side, close enough that my bare thigh brushes his slacks. “Unless there’s another reason you want me out of this room?” I let my voice drop to a whisper only he can hear. “Am i turning you on? Because I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

His friends are frozen, eyes darting between us like they just realized they’re watching something they shouldn’t.

David stands up slow. The bulge in his slacks is impossible to miss. “Gentlemen,” he says, never taking his eyes off me, “patio. Five minutes.”

They scramble. Chairs roll back. Glasses clink. The glass door slides shut behind them and I can see them outside pretending to light cigars while stealing glances through the window.

The second we’re alone the air turns electric.

David takes one step toward me. I back up until my spine hits the wall. He cages me in, hands braced on either side of my head.

“You’ve been walking around this house trying to make me lose my f*****g mind,” he growls, voice rough with three months of restraint. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I lick my lips, feeling the way his eyes track the movement like he’s starving. “You’re not wrong.”

He inhales sharp, like I slapped him. His hand comes up, fingers grazing my jaw, thumb pressing just under my chin to tilt my head back. “Ava, I’m your stepfather. You can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

I press my body into his, feeling the hard line of his c**k against my stomach, the heat of him burning through his slacks. “You’re not my father, David. You’re the man who married my mother for her looks, and she married you for your money. She’s never home anyway. And I’m an adult. I want what I want.”

His thumb digs in a little harder, his breath coming faster. “You’re playing with fire, little girl. You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I want you to stop pretending you don’t want to f**k your stepdaughter,” I breathe, pressing my t**s against his chest so he can feel how hard my n*****s are. “I’m soaked, David. Have been since I put these shorts on knowing you’d see me in them. Touch me and feel how wet I am for you.”

His hand shakes where it’s braced on the wall. “Stop. This isn’t right. I’m supposed to protect you, not…” He trails off, eyes dropping to my mouth, then lower to where my tank top is stretched tight over my breasts.

“Not what?” I whisper, grinding my hips against his c**k just enough to make him hiss. “Not pin me down and f**k me until I scream? Not make me come on your tongue while I call you Daddy? Not fill me up until I’m leaking your c*m?”

His control shatters. He grabs my throat, his fingers wrapping around it with just enough pressure to make my pulse thunder against his palm. “You want to play games with me, little girl? You think you can tease me for months and I won’t snap?”

I moan at the pressure, at the way his fingers flex like he’s barely holding back from squeezing harder. “I’m counting on you snapping. I’m an adult, David. I want this. I want you. And I know you want me too. I’ve heard you at night, jerking off, groaning my name.”

His face twists, a mix of lust and agony. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m your stepfather. This would ruin everything.”

“Ruin what?” I challenge, sliding my hand down between us to palm his c**k through his slacks. He’s so hard it twitches under my fingers. “I know what I want. I want you inside me. Right now.”

But his body betrays him. He’s still caging me in, his free hand sliding down to my hip, fingers digging in like he can’t decide if he wants to push me away or pull me closer. His c**k presses against my stomach, throbbing, and I can feel how close he is to breaking.

I lean in, lips brushing his ear. “Then why are you so hard for your stepdaughter? Why do you look at me like you want to bend me over this table and f**k me until I can’t walk?”

His hand tightens on my throat. “Because you’ve been teasing me like a little slut for three months,” he snaps, voice cracking. “Walking around in next to nothing. Bending over. Leaving your door open when you change. You think I haven’t noticed? You think I haven’t wanted to storm in there and teach you a lesson?”

“Then do it,” I taunt, grinding against him. “Teach me, Daddy. Show me what happens to bad girls who tease their stepfathers.”

That does it.

He makes a sound like he’s in pain and his mouth crashes into mine. It’s not gentle. It’s three months of denied lust exploding—teeth clashing, tongues fighting, his hand on my throat holding me in place while he devours me like he’s been dying for this. I kiss him back just as hard, moaning into his mouth, my hands fisting his shirt, pulling him closer.

He breaks the kiss first, breathing ragged, forehead against mine. “f**k, Ava.”

“Yes Daddy,” I whisper, sliding my hand down to stroke him through his slacks. “you know you want to.”

His hips buck into my touch before he can stop himself. “God help me,” he mutters, and then he’s kissing me again, hungrier, one hand shoving under my tank top to palm my breast rough, thumb flicking my n****e until I’m whining into his mouth.

“f**k,” he groans against my lips. “You have any idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about these t**s?”

“Show me,” I pant, grabbing his wrist and shoving his hand lower, under my shorts. “Feel how wet I am for you.”

His fingers slide through my slit and he actually growls when he feels how drenched I am. Two fingers push inside me without warning and I cry out, legs shaking.

“Jesus Christ, Ava.” He pumps them slow, curling, watching my face. “This tight little p***y has been waiting for me?”

“Only you,” I whimper, riding his hand. “Every night I touched myself listening to you on the other side of the wall. I wanted your c**k so bad I cried.”

His control snaps.

He yanks my tank top up and over my head in one motion, mouth latching onto my n****e, sucking hard. I arch into him, fingers tangled in his hair, moaning his name over and over.

He spins me, pushes me chest-down over the poker table. Chips scatter. My cheek presses into the felt, ass in the air. He rips my shorts down my thighs and they pool at my ankles.

“Look at this perfect f*****g ass,” he mutters, palming both cheeks, spreading me open. Cool air hits my p***y and I whine. “Been teasing me with it for months.”

His belt clinks. Zipper down. Then the thick, hot head of his c**k is sliding through my folds, coating himself in me.

“David, please...” I push back, desperate. “f**k me. I need it. Need my stepfather’s c**k inside me.”

He slams in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

I scream, loud enough the guys on the patio probably hear it. He doesn’t care. He grabs my hips and starts pounding into me, hard, punishing, perfect. The table rocks under us. Chips bounce to the floor.

“Take it,” he growls, leaning over me, one hand fisted in my hair, the other reaching around to rub my c**t. “Take every inch of the c**k you’ve been begging for.”

I come instantly, clenching around him so hard my vision blacks out. He doesn’t stop, just f***s me through it, dragging it out until I’m sobbing and shaking and coming again.

He pulls out sudden, spins me around, lifts me onto the table. My legs wrap around his waist automatically.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I do. His eyes are wild, dark, completely lost in me.

“I’m not pulling out,” he says, voice raw. “You want this, you take all of me.”

“Yes,” I moan, pulling him closer. “Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me tomorrow while I sit at breakfast and pretend I’m still your good little stepdaughter.”

He groans and slams back in, f*****g me deep and dirty, mouth on mine, swallowing every moan, every scream, every “David...harder. please!”

When he comes it’s with my name on his tongue and his c**k buried as deep as it will go, pulsing, flooding me with heat.

We stay like that, panting, sweaty, wrecked.

After a minute he pulls back just enough to look at me, thumb brushing my swollen lip.

“This isn’t over,” he says.

I smile, slow and filthy, clenching around him where he’s still inside me.

“Good,” I whisper. “Because I’m just getting started.”