Page 14 of DILF


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I hear my driver cough, "Ahem, excuse me sir, but we're here."

As we step out of the car, Amy looks up at Gracie Mansion. "My, what a big …" and she looks down at the outline of my cock in my pants and back up at the house, and continues with a grin, "house you have."

"One of the perks of being mayor," I smile. "Would you like a tour?"

"I'd like more than just a tour of your mansion," she purrs, and I can feel desire coursing through my veins.

"I can make that happen," I smile back.

9

Amy

Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss, but sometimes … it’s something else.

The moment my lips touch Parker’s lips, I know I’m in for a wild ride. My heart is thumping fast and my mind is wired up, tapping into some inner well of pleasure. I feel the world around me fade away, and all labels vanish into thin air; forget all about stepfathers and stepdaughters, this is about a man and a woman.

I pull back from his kiss and, looking into his eyes, I feel two inevitable words making their way up my throat. I open my mouth and desire speaks through me, the words like rolling thunder.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, my heart feeling like a hand grenade.

“I thought a sweet girl like you didn’t know how to use words like that,” he says, teasing me as his lips curl into an eager grin.

“Oh, you have no idea how sweet I am. You haven’t even had a taste,” I shoot back, holding my breath as I take my hand and press it against his crotch. His eyes widen as he feels my touch, and I waste no time; I curl my fingers around his cock, tightening my grip on the growing shape under his pants.

“No, I haven’t. But just one look at you is enough to know you’re a sweet girl, whether you know it or not,” he tells me, resting both his big hands on my hips, “and I’m going to fuck all that sweetness out of you.”

His words are like honey and fire, and they take over my mind in the blink of an eye. I have no ready response this time, and so all I do is lean into him and surrender to his kiss again. His cock throbs against my fingers as we kiss, our tongues dancing around one another like two long lost lovers.

He takes one hand off my hips, and then I shiver as I feel the touch of his fingertips on the nape of my neck. He tangles his fingers in my hair and then yanks on it, forcing me to throw my head back. I look into his eyes, breathing hard, and he just pushes me against the wall with a growl.

I gasp as my back touches the wall, a sudden urge to feel Parker’s dominance taking over me. I reach for his shirt, hooking them on his collar, and now’s my time to growl. I yank on his shirt from side to side, forcing the buttons to pop off in fast sequence, and then I press my hands on his bare chest. I hold my breath and look at his chest, my eyes widening as I realize that Parker’s so much more than I had imagined; his pectorals are like sculpted muscles, and there’s a wall of bulging 8-pack abs covering his stomach. He has an eight pack, for God’s sake!

“Surprised? I’m not an old man, you know?” he asks me, an amused smile dancing on his lips.

“No,” I breathe out, my lungs suddenly remembering to start working again. “But you’re still my daddy,” I tell him, grabbing his cock so harshly that he groans.

“Yes, I am,” he replies, moving fast and reaching for me with his hand. He places it over the front of my dress, bunching it up between my thighs, and I let out a moan as I feel the pressure of his fingers right on my pussy. “And daddy’s going to take good care of you.”

Insanity. This is pure insanity. Out of all the men in the world, why did I have to succumb to the only one I’m not supposed to have? I’ve never really cared about society’s fake modesty, but fucking my stepfather? That’s a bit too much, even for me. But, the thing is, I can’t stop it. No, this river is going to run its course.

Letting go of his cock, I curl my fingers around his wrist and force him to press his hand harder against my pussy. I throw my head back at the same time, pressing it against the wall, and I moan as the pressure of his fingers on me becomes almost unbearable. I’m so wet right now that I feel lightheaded, both my brain and heart succumbing to the natural high of pleasure and anticipation.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks me, his deep voice sending a shiver up my spine. He takes his hand out from between my thighs, but that’s just so he can slide it under the hemline of my dress. His fingertips trail toward my inner thigh, and then he’s on me again, the palm of his hand pressed tight against my drenched thong.

“Ah… I… I do…” I moan, struggling to get the words out.

Stroking the front of my thong with the tip of his fingers, he teases me mercilessly, drawing moan after moan out of my lips. Then, his fingers flowing from one movement to the other, he pinches the fabric and flicks it to the side. He presses the palm of his hand over my pussy and I gasp, the pressure making my insides clench, a violent urge to have him inside of me taking over my mind.

Reading my thoughts, he caresses my folds with his middle finger, moving it up and down i

n a repetitive motion. He only slides it in when I’m not counting on it, curling it upward like a hook and moving it straight toward that sweet hidden spot inside of me.

“Oh, God,” I pant, feeling his fingertip pressed tight against my G-spot. At the sound of my words, he presses even harder, my eyes rolling in their orbits as he does it. He lowers his thumb over my clit, then, and starts rubbing with the same abandonment with which he’s pressing on my G-spot. “That’s… that’s good,” I whisper, smiling as he handles my body with the expertise of a man who's seen it all.

Most men can’t even find a woman’s clit, let alone her G-spot. And that’s just sad, don’t you think? Thankfully, Parker isn’t like most men, and everything he does makes me believe that every second with him is a gift from the heavens.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, leaning in and brushing his lips against my ear. At the same time, he slides one more finger inside my aching pussy; he flicks his wrist slowly, moving both his fingers in and out of my pussy at a growing rhythm. “I love tight,” he continues, fingering me so hard now that I can’t even think of a response to his words. All I can do is stand there while he works me with his fingers, each movement of his hand like a sweet sting.

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