Unholy Desires: Erotica Collections

Step-Dad's Forbidden Craving: 3

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm on my skin as I stirred awake. My body ached in the best way—thighs sore from being spread wide, p***y tender from Marcus's relentless pounding. c*m still leaked from me, sticky between my legs, a reminder of how he'd filled me up last night. I stretched, sheets tangling around my naked form, and glanced at the clock: 8:17 AM. Mom would be up soon, clattering in the kitchen like she did every Saturday.

The bed felt empty without him. He'd slipped out before dawn, his c**k softening inside me as he kissed my forehead and whispered, “This stays between us, Riley. But f**k, I need more.” His words echoed in my head, making my c**t throb anew. I slid a hand down, fingers dipping into the mess he'd left, circling my swollen folds. One touch, and I was gasping, imagining his thick shaft stretching me again. But footsteps downstairs pulled me back—Mom's voice calling out for coffee. No time.

I showered quick, the hot water rinsing away the evidence but not the heat pooling low in my belly. Dressed in cutoff shorts that hugged my ass and a tank top sans bra—n*****s poking through the thin fabric—I headed down. Marcus was at the table, newspaper in hand, looking every bit the innocent husband in his polo and jeans. His eyes flicked up, dark and hungry, lingering on my chest before dropping to my legs. I smirked, pouring cereal, bending over just enough to flash the curve of my cheeks.

Mom bustled in, hair in a messy bun, robe loose. “Morning, you two. Sleep well?” She pecked Marcus's cheek, oblivious to the tension crackling like static. He grunted a yes, but his foot nudged mine under the table—deliberate, pressing against my bare calf, sliding up slow. I bit my lip, spoon halfway to my mouth, as his toes traced my inner thigh. Heat flushed my face; my p***y clenched, dampening my panties.

“Yeah, Mom. Like a rock.” I shifted, spreading my legs a fraction, inviting him higher. His big toe brushed the edge of my shorts, right over my mound. I nearly dropped the spoon, a soft whimper escaping disguised as a cough. Mom rambled about errands—grocery run, then yoga class downtown. “I'll be gone till afternoon. You kids behave.” She laughed, grabbing her keys. The door clicked shut behind her, engine rumbling to life in the driveway.

Marcus was on me before the sound faded. He shoved back from the table, chair scraping loud, and yanked me up by the waist. “f*****g minx,” he snarled, mouth crashing into mine. His tongue invaded, tasting of coffee and want, hands roaming rough—squeezing my ass, pulling me flush against the hard ridge in his jeans. I ground into him, moaning into the kiss, fingers clawing at his shirt to feel the solid muscle underneath.

He spun me around, bending me over the kitchen island, my t**s pressing cold against the granite. “Been thinking about this tight little cunt all morning.” His palm cracked against my ass cheek—sharp sting blooming hot—then soothed with a knead. I arched back, pushing into his touch. “Spank me harder, Daddy. Make it hurt.” Another smack, louder, my skin reddening under his hand. He unzipped, the rasp echoing, and freed his c**k—already rock-hard, veins pulsing, pre-c*m beading at the slit.

I wiggled my shorts down, kicking them aside, panties following. Bare ass up, p***y exposed and dripping, I spread my feet wider. “f**k me right here. Where Mom eats breakfast.” The taboo of it soaked me more, arousal trickling down my thigh. Marcus gripped my hips, thumbs digging bruises, and lined up. His tip nudged my entrance, fat and insistent, then he rammed in—full length in one savage thrust, balls slapping my c**t.

I screamed, the stretch burning delicious, walls fluttering around his girth. He didn't ease up, pulling out to the head before slamming back, setting a brutal pace. The island rocked with each drive, dishes rattling in the cabinets. “God, you're dripping for me,” he grunted, one hand fisting my hair to yank my head back, arching my spine. His other slid under, fingers finding my c**t, rubbing fast circles that made my knees buckle.

“Yes, Harder” I pushed back, meeting his hips, the wet slap of flesh filling the kitchen. His c**k dragged along my inner walls, hitting that deep spot over and over, building pressure like a coil ready to snap. Sweat beaded on my skin, mixing with the scent of s*x—musky, raw. He released my hair, both hands now on my ass, spreading my cheeks wide. A thumb circled my tight hole, pressing just enough to tease, making me clench around him.

“One day, I'll claim this too,” he promised, voice gravelly. The thought sent sparks through me—his thick d**k forcing into my ass, stretching me there. I moaned louder, grinding down, chasing the edge. He pinched my c**t, rolling it between fingers slick with my cream, and I shattered—orgasm ripping through, p***y gushing around his shaft, milking him deep. Legs shaking, I collapsed forward, but he held me up, pounding relentlessly.

“Not done yet.” He pulled out sudden, c**k glistening with my juices, and flipped me onto my back atop the counter. Legs over his shoulders, he plunged back in, folding me nearly in half. This angle let him go deeper, tip battering my cervix with every thrust. I clawed his arms, nails leaving red trails, t**s bouncing wild as he f****d me like a man possessed. “Look at you, taking Daddy's c**k so good. Gonna breed this pussy.”

His words ignited another wave, but he was close—thrusts shortening, hips stuttering. I reached down, fingers spreading my lips wider, giving him a view of his d**k disappearing into me. “c*m in me. Fill your little girl up.” With a roar, he buried deep, c**k pulsing as ropes of hot seed erupted, coating my insides. He ground against me, prolonging it, until it overflowed, dripping onto the counter beneath my ass.

We panted, bodies slick and spent, his weight pinning me as he softened inside. He kissed me slow this time, tongue lazy, but his eyes held that fire. “We can't keep this up. Too risky.” Yet his hand stroked my thigh, possessive. I knew he was wrong—we'd only crave more.

After cleaning up—wiping the counter with a rag that now smelled of us— we pretended normalcy. But as I lounged on the couch later, scrolling my phone, Marcus's gaze burned from across the room. Mom texted she'd be late—traffic. Opportunity knocked again. I stood, sauntering to the laundry room under pretense of folding clothes. He followed, door shutting soft behind him.

Inside the dim space, dryer humming low, I dropped to my knees on the tile. “Let me taste you.” His jeans hit the floor, c**k semi-hard and sticky from our earlier f**k. I licked from base to tip, savoring the mix of c*m and my own tang, then sucked the head into my mouth. Tongue swirling, I took him deeper, throat relaxing to swallow half his length. He groaned, hand in my hair, guiding but not forcing—yet.

“f**k, that mouth.” I bobbed faster, cheeks hollowing, saliva dripping down my chin. One hand cupped his balls, rolling them gentle, the other stroking what I couldn't fit. He hardened fully, stretching my jaw, pre-c*m leaking salty on my tongue. I hummed around him, vibrations making his thighs tense. “Gonna swallow every drop?”

I nodded, eyes watering as I deepthroated, nose brushing his pubes. He thrust shallow, f*****g my face now, grunts building. Hot spurts hit my throat sudden—he came hard, flooding my mouth. I gulped it down, not spilling a bit, licking him clean after. Rising, I kissed him, sharing the flavor. “Your turn to eat me.”

He lifted me onto the washer, spreading my legs wide. Face between my thighs, beard scraping sensitive skin, he dove in. Tongue flat and broad, lapping my folds, sucking my c**t with wet pops. Fingers joined—two plunging deep, curling to stroke my g-spot while his mouth worked magic. I gripped the machine, hips bucking, moaning his name. Orgasm built fast, crashing over me in shudders, cream smearing his chin as I squirted light, soaking his shirt.

By the time Mom's car pulled in hours later, we were composed—dinner prepped, smiles easy. But under the table, his hand squeezed my knee, promising the night held more secrets. The craving gnawed deeper, pulling us toward edges we couldn't turn back from. What if she caught us? The thought thrilled as much as it terrified, and I knew tomorrow's risks would only heighten the f**k.