Forbidden Fantasies: A Steamy Erotica Collection.

Wrong Daddy, Right Orgasm(2)💦

Chapter 4

Cat’s POV

The ceiling fan was still spinning slowly in lazy circles when my eyelids fluttered open. My body felt heavy, deliciously used, like I've been railed nonstop till I passed out.

The sunlight slices through the half opened curtains, hitting directly to the damp spot on the duvet right between my legs. I stretched long and slow, with my arms above my head, my back arching off the mattress. A dull ache settled between the lower part of my belly. My p***y throbbed once, hard like it was reminding me that we weren't done yet.

Can't blame me. Three months without real d**k can make a girl ovulate daily.

I rolled onto my side, my thighs pressing together instinctively. Slickness slid between my folds. Still wet. Still needy. f**k.

Shower first.

I needed to wash off last night’s mess before creating a new one again.

The hot water hit my skin like forgiveness. I stood under the spray, letting it pound on my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach. Soap lather ran down my body slowly.

When my hand drifted between my legs, purely to “clean” it obviously; my c**t jumped at the first touch. Swollen. Sensitive.

I bit my lip and circled once, twice. A soft whimper escaped before I forced my hand away.

Not now. Marcus would be home in three days now. I could wait. I had to wait.

I stepped out, wrapping myself in a short, transparent silk robe that barely covered my ass, and padded back to the bedroom. The toys were still scattered on the bed like a crime scene evidence. Phone face-down on the pillow. I smiled to myself upon remembering the video. The way I had moaned for him. The way I'd come so hard the lens had fogged up for a second.

I flopped onto the bed on my stomach, the robe riding up, and grabbed my phone. A new message lit up the screen.

It was Marcus.

“Good morning sexy.”

I tapped it, smiling. The smile faded into confusion.

No video. Nothing sent.

I swiped to the main chat screen and to my horror, I had sent the video to daddy after all.

Not Marcus,

But Sebastian.

My stomach dropped like I'd missed a step on the stairs.

The video thumbnail stared back at me; my legs spread, dildo halfway in, face flush and wrecked. Below it, was my own text.

“I can't wait to have that big d**k of yours inside of me daddy…see you soon.

And below that, he replied:

“I never knew you were this wet for your step daddy.”

Then a video, 0:52.

My thumb hovered, my heart slamming so loud I could feel it in my c**t again.

I pressed play.

The screen filled with Sebastian. Shirtless, in low lighting; probably his study or bedroom after mom went to sleep. Sweat already gleaming on his chest. His hand was wrapped around a thick c**k; darker than I'd imagined, veined with the tip flushed dark pink. He stroked himself slowly, from the base to head, twisting a little at the crown the way guys do when they're really worked up.

His eyes were locked on the camera like he was staring straight at me.

“f**k, kitten…” his voice was low, rougher than our polite chats. “Look at you. Spreading for me. Calling me daddy while you f**k yourself stupid.” A bead of pre-c*m welled at his slit; he smeared it down his shaft with his thumb.

“This what you needed? This is what that greedy little p***y was crying for?”

He sped up just enough to make the wet sounds audible. His abs flexed, his breathing turning ragged.

“Should’ve known… the way you type ‘Daddy’ with that cheeky little emoji. You've been thinking about it haven't you?” He groaned low in his throat. “Here’s a little gift for my hungry kitten.”

He angled the camera lower, showing me his full length, longer than the dildo I had used; even thicker, then stroked faster. His balls drew up tight. A second later, heavy spurts of c*m spilled over his fist, dripping down his knuckles while he kept pumping through it, milking every last drop.

The video ended with his c**k visibly twitching in his hand.

I stared at the frozen frame, unable to breathe.

My robe had fallen open. One breast exposed, my n****e pebbled tight. I could feel the wetness between my legs again; fresh heat already pooling with my c**t pulsing like it had come in contact with the video.

I should delete it. Block him. Call mom. Scream. Cry.

Anything.

Just do something!

Instead, my hand slid down. Fingers finding their way to my c**t; slippery, and started rubbing in the same slow circles he'd used on himself.

I replayed the video and watched his hands move, matching my rhythm to his.

I whimpered when he groaned my nickname.

“Kitten…”

My hips rocked hard against my palm. Two fingers slipped in, easy; way too easily and curled. The heel of my hand grinding hard against my c**t.

I came fast. Too fast with a sharp, guilty burst that left me shaking, I bit the pillow to muffle the cry.

When the aftershocks faded, I just lay there, my robe already tangled with my phone still glowing with his message.

Three days until Marcus arrives.

One dinner with Mom…and him.

And now I had his c*m on video.

And he had mine.

I didn't delete the chat instead, I saved the video.

I typed, erased then typed again thinking of what to actually say. The cycle dragged on for a while before I gave up.

Three dots suddenly appeared.

He was typing.

My chest tightened as the dots moved. Fear crept in slowly but yet, my anticipation refused to leave.

My fingers hovered uselessly on the screen, my patience already thinning out.

Suddenly, the message came in.

“You done squirting kitten? See you at dinner. Wear something short. I want to see how wet you still are when you sit across from me.”

My p***y clenched so hard I gasped.

I wanted to type, to explain that it was a mistake but out of sheer panic and frustration, I flung my phone to the side of my bed not caring if it would break.

I slid my finger into my hair, scattering it as if it could reverse time in any way.

I had made a mistake and tonight was going to ruin me.

And I had begun to count the hours.