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I obey and reach down to play with my clit while he continues to fuck me, rapidly easing in and out of me.
And sure enough, I can't make it for longer than a few thrusts, before I feel my muscles clenching around him. My orgasm rolls over me, encouraged by every shove he forces inside me.
I cum so hard, my vision blurs for a few seconds. Just as the last waves of my climax are rolling over me, I can feel his giant cock pulsating inside me as he finds his release, deeply filling me with his cum while the last few contractions of my own orgasm are clenching around him.
"Fuck," he breathes.
He is sweaty, almost as much as he was when I met him at the door last night. And so fucking handsome.
He leans forward, planting a kiss on my mouth before he withdraws himself, slowly, thank god.
"You dirty little girl," he whispers, his eyes observing my freshly fucked pussy.
My legs are still spread apart and up. I can feel his cum dripping out of me as he spreads my folds apart to have a better look.
He hums with approval. "Good, girl."
"So," I start. "Will you tell on me?"
He looks at me, grinning.
"Oh, no little girl. I am not going to tell anybody anything about what happened this weekend," he says. "You can count on that."
* * *
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Below are a few suggestions for other stories about little brats and their hot stepdads:
The College Step trilogy - FREE in KU!
Educating the Brat (The College Step Book 1)
Teaching the Brat (The College Step Book 2)
Taming the Brat (The College Step Book 3)
10
When Daddy Shared Me
By Saffron Daughter
I could hear Michael making a lot of noise in the kitchen. He was definitely cooking up something special. Mum was away on what she called a “Girl’s Retreat”, whatever that meant. My guess? She would be drinking with her friends, flirting with younger men than her, and though I never really liked to admit it, she was probably bringing them back to her room. She was a bit wild when she was younger, and I don’t think that she ever really lost the spark. I guess I get some of that from her.
What it meant, though, was that I was left behind at the house alone with Michael, her husband… my step-father. Being twenty years old, I certainly didn’t need any supervision, and so Michael didn’t really have any responsibility, as far as I was concerned. Well, not technically, anyway.
You see, Michael had moved in when I was only fifteen, and so in many ways he had been my father figure. He admonished me when I was out of line, supported me when I wasn’t, and was just generally there to help out with things at school, or with university applications, and that kind of parent stuff.
The thing about Michael was that he was good to look at, and certainly fun to have around. He was an attractive man, tall, and he kept in shape. I always admired that about him. Most people didn’t have the dedication. Really, I don’t know what my mother was doing, going off trying to seduce young boys when she had a man like Michael at home.
Trouble with the marriage? I didn’t know. Can’t say I paid them much attention. I paid him attention, and Mum when she demanded it, but I never gave the two of them, as a married unit, much thought at all.
I could smell delicious things coming from the kitchen. Oh, yeah, Michael loved to cook, and more than that, he was a pretty damn fantastic cook. Really, I don’t know what Mum was thinking. I knew he was whipping up something special. It smelled vaguely like pancakes, but with a hint of something sugary. Whatever it was, experimental or not, it was bound to taste good.
