Ruined By The Coby Twins

Free Use Zip Code 5

GARNET'S POV

The impact consumed everything!

Pain and pleasure arriving simultaneously. The stretch of his c**k filling me so completely that my vision went white at the edges and my hands slapped flat on the counter. And I, for the life of me, couldn't tell where one sensation ended and the other began.

He was huge. Bigger than anything I had been prepared for.

My walls clenched around him in shock and he groaned at the tightness.

I just wish I could explain to someone, anyone, what that sinful combination of sensations felt like.

The fullness. The burn. The way my p***y was gripping his c**k like it never wanted him to leave even while my mouth was still trying to form words.

I literally need every one of my readers to feel this.

Truly!

I hope you never… and also always get railed like this in a kitchen at seven in the morning.

Fuck!

"Scream for Daddy," my stepdad said. Hands gripping my hips. "Go on… tell me you hate me, you little brat."

"I hate you!" I screamed. And he thrust forward and I screamed again and it came out entirely as pleasure.

I knew I'd never be able to pretend again.

He set a pace that was meant to destroy me and he was succeeding.

He thrust into my p***y with deep rolling strokes that dragged every nerve ending I had on the way out and obliterated them on the way back in.

My c**t kept grinding against the edge of the counter with every thrust and the friction was going to kill me.

I was burning.

The bacon was burning.

I did not care about the bacon.

Then my orgasm arrived like a collapsing building.

My walls clenched around my stepdad's massive c**k and I came with both hands gripping the counter and my whole body shaking.

And the sound I made echoed off the kitchen tiles while he kept going.

Kept thrusting through every wave.

His hands squeezing my bare breasts from behind. Fingers finding my n*****s and twisting while I was still mid-orgasm and convulsing through something that had no decent name.

In my desperation, I reached for my c**t again.

And he spanked my creaming p***y… again.

The wet smack of it sent a fresh wave crashing through me and my hips snapped forward.

"Cook!" he demanded. His c**k still buried in my p***y while I soaked the both of us.

I had no choice.

I picked up the spatula with a trembling hand and burned myself slightly on the pan edge. And I didn't even feel it because his c**k was still moving inside me and his thumb had replaced his hand on my c**t while I built toward something again already which shouldn't be physically possible.

Then he pulled back his c**k. Almost all the way out, just the tip of him at my entrance.

And I felt the devastating vacuum in my p***y for just a moment before he slammed back in and my whole body lurched forward. Causing the pan to slid sideways, and eggs went everywhere.

Yet, he did it again.

And again!

Each withdrawal leaving me empty and frantic. Each return filling me so completely my toes curled against the kitchen floor.

His c*m came without announcement. Flooding me in hot pulses while he buried himself deep and held there, groaning against the back of my neck.

I felt every throb of it inside me while my c**t jammed against the counter edge one final time and I came apart again.

Gushing shamelessly down his shaft. Both of us wrecked and panting over the messed up remnants of what was supposed to be breakfast.

He stayed inside me until the very last drop was drained out his c**k.

Then he pulled out slowly and I felt everything he had filled my cunt with begin to leak down my inner thighs.

His mouth found the back of my neck.

"Clean up this mess you made," he said quietly. "I'll punish you for ruining my breakfast.”

What?

This man was sick!

How was any of this my fault?

He didn't care. He just walked out of the kitchen. Rightfully obligated by Free Use week.

I stood there holding the spatula with ruined eggs on the floor and his c*m running down my legs.

My torn nightwear hanging open and my flushed breasts still out and the full scary knowledge that it was only Monday.

Six more days to go.

And deep down I'd loved every filthy, sinful thing my stepdad had done to me.

The bacon began to burn.