MILES;
“Thank you, Daddy,”
The words followed me upstairs. I didn't know what was worse; the word she mumbled on, or the sexy way she had let it out between clenched teeth.
I slammed my bedroom door behind me and twisted the lock with shaking fingers. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest. I could still see her… Michela, my sweet stepdaughter, the girl I wasn’t supposed to want, standing there in nothing but delicate white lace.
Her full breasts spilling over the cups, her soft belly curving gently, those thick thighs pressed together, lace panties disappearing into only god-knows-where. The image burned behind my eyelids.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I staggered into the bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was flushed, eyes dark with lust, jaw clenched tight.
Sweat beaded on my forehead. At forty-two, I was supposed to be the responsible one. The man who promised her mother I would protect her before cancer took her away.
I had promised to raise her like my own. Not this. Not the man who got rock hard at the sight of her nearly naked body. Not the man who couldn't handle the thought of handling her heavy breasts. I wanted to be her daddy, not in this forbidden way.
“f**k,” I growled under my breath.
Would you blame me? I had wanted to send her out to a college far away from home. Where she would be out of my sight, and maybe only visit home during holidays. But Michela had cried and pleaded it was Rockville College or nothing, she had talked about missing the Wills and Words, and when I thought about it, that bookstore had become better with her help.
It now had a coffee section too, all thanks to her thoughtful ideas. Letting her go wasn't easy, just like letting her stay. I twitched on the shower faucet and stood under the angry water.
My c**k throbbed painfully as I grabbed it in my hand, the tip looked swollen, ready to devour the mound of flesh he found between her thick thighs.
I could still hear her soft voice calling me “Daddy.” The way it rolled off her tongue, innocent yet loaded with something more. Something dangerous. I had tried so hard to fight this…
I had called Tracey to come over the moment Michela got back from school, that was the only way I was going to avoid this temptation.
I even threw myself into work at the bookstore, reminding myself every single day that she was off-limits. She was my responsibility. My little girl.
But she wasn’t a little girl anymore. No little girl had that heavy size of hips. Little girls do not possess such delicate sweet skin that I want to grab.
The memory flashed again: her curves on full display, the way her n*****s had hardened under my gaze, the shy but hungry look in her eyes when I called her “Kitten.”
My hand moved almost on its own, tightening harder around my c**k. It stood strong and aching, for only her, already leaking at the tip.
I wrapped my fist even tighter around it and groaned. “Michela…”
I stroked slowly at first, picturing her turning toward me instead of covering herself. Imagining her dropping her arms, letting me see every inch of her beautiful, soft body.
Those heavy breasts I wanted to worship with my mouth. That round ass I wanted to grip while I pulled her against me. I pumped faster, my breath coming in harsh pants. The sound of skin on skin filled the bathroom, water cascading all over me as I stroked faster.
“f**k, baby… so perfect,” I whispered to the empty room, eyes squeezed shut.
In my mind, she was stepping closer, whispering “Daddy” again while she reached for me. The fantasy was so vivid I could almost smell her skin, feel the warmth of her curves pressing against me.
My strokes turned rough and desperate. Veins stood out on my forearm as I worked myself harder, chasing the release I knew I shouldn’t want. Guilt twisted in my gut even as pleasure built like fire in my spine. She was nineteen, she was my stepdaughter. I was supposed to take care of her, not crave her like this.
But God, I did crave her.
With a low, guttural groan, I came hard. Thick ropes of c*m spilled across the bathroom wall as my c**k pulsed in my fist. My knees nearly buckled but I kept stroking through it, milking every last drop while her name fell from my lips like a prayer and a curse.
I sat slowly in the tub, the nape of my neck resting at the edge of the bathtub, legs outstretched while my d**k still stood. I breathed heavily, trying to catch my breath. Shame washed over me immediately, but it couldn’t completely drown the satisfaction.
Then I heard it.
“Miles!” A familiar, high-pitched female voice called from downstairs. “Miles, honey, are you home?”
Tracey.
The loud click of her heels echoed through the living room as she moved around like she owned the place. “Miles? I brought wine!”
I cursed under my breath and quickly washed myself splashing enough water on my face to wash away the evidence of what I’d just done. My hands were still shaking as I tried to compose myself.
This has to stop, I told myself. But even as I thought it, the image of Michela in her room refused to leave my mind.
And with Tracey around, I was bound to witness yet another drama. Michela never liked the idea of me bringing any woman to the house, and when I told her Tracey was coming, I hadn't waited to hear what she had to say.
But dating other women was the only way I was going to stay away from this temptation. I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist as I awaited the dinner drama for tonight.