LOGINI woke up with his cum dried on my thighs and a deep ache between my legs that made me smile into the pillow. Mom was already downstairs making coffee when I came out of the shower. Alex sat at the kitchen island in a fresh white shirt and dark slacks, reading something on his tablet. He didn’t look up when I entered, but the second Mom turned to pour more coffee he lifted his eyes and dragged them slowly from my bare legs up to my face. I was wearing another short skirt. No panties this time. Just to see what he’d do. His jaw tightened. That was it. Then Mom turned back and he was the perfect husband again. “Sleep well, honey?” she asked. “Really well.” I poured myself coffee and leaned against the counter across from him. My pussy was still sore. Every shift of my hips reminded me how hard he’d fucked me over that desk. I could still feel the ghost of his hand over my mouth. Alex’s voice was calm. “You have my class first thing. Don’t be late.” Mom laughed. “Listen to him. Al
I still couldn’t believe Mom actually went through with it. One minute she’s crying over Dad’s old photos, the next she’s marrying some literature professor she met at a faculty dinner three months ago. Whirlwind didn’t even cover it. I got the call two weeks ago: “Honey, pack your things. You’re moving in with us for senior year. It’ll be good for you.” Like I was twelve again. So here I was, hauling the last box up the stairs of this big old colonial in the hills outside campus. Hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the smell of coffee and old paper. My new bedroom was at the end of the hall, right across from the master. Convenient. He was downstairs when I came back for the final bag. Alexander Kane. Alex. My stepfather as of last Saturday. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Dark hair with a little gray at the temples. He wore a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that fit like they were made for him. No tie. Glasses pushed up on his head.
You locked the bedroom door and pointed at the mattress. “Maria. On your back. Legs spread. Hold them open.” She climbed up and pulled her knees back. The light from the hallway cut across her body—red marks on her thighs, nipples tight, cunt still glossy from earlier. Carl stood at the foot of the bed, cock already thick. “Carl. Between her legs. Slow. I want to watch every inch.” He climbed on and pushed into her cunt in one long stroke. She sucked in a breath. You walked to the side of the bed, stroked yourself once, and fed your cock into her mouth. She took it deep right away. The two of you moved together—Carl fucking her steady, you sliding in and out of her throat. Spit ran down her chin. The wet sound of her cunt filled the room. You kept her like that until her eyes watered. Then you pulled free and wiped the mess across her face. “Ass,” you told Carl. He pulled out, spit on her hole, and shoved in. You went back into her mouth. The stretch made her moan around you.
Late afternoon light cut across the hallway when they finished the last of the baseboards. Maria’s knees were red. Carl’s back was marked with dried streaks from earlier. You were still hard, leaning against the wall, watching them wipe the last smudges off the floorboards. “Guest room. Now.” They went in ahead of you. The bed was still made from the morning. You pointed at it. “Maria. On your back. Legs open. Hold them.” She climbed up and pulled her knees back. Cum from earlier still glistened between her thighs. You nodded at Carl. “Eat her clean. Every drop. Then fuck her.” He dropped between her legs without a word. Tongue flat, slow, working through the mess until she was shiny and twitching. When he finally pushed his cock into her she was already moaning. You stood at the side of the bed, stroked yourself once, and shoved into her mouth. She took it deep, gagging on the first thrust, then settling into the rhythm while Carl pounded her cunt. The bedframe knocked agains
The cleaning went slow on purpose. Every time Maria bent over to wipe a baseboard, you called her over. She’d crawl the last few feet on her knees, take your cock into her mouth, and hold it while you checked your phone or just watched Carl scrub the floor. When you got bored you’d nod at him and he’d walk over, cock already hard, and stand there while she switched from you to him without being told. By the time they finished the living room both of them were marked—fingerprints on Maria’s ass, spit on her chin, a thin trail of cum still drying on Carl’s stomach from earlier. You pointed upstairs. “Bedrooms next. Start with mine.” They went ahead of you. Maria on her hands and knees wiping the hardwood, Carl stripping the sheets. You leaned in the doorway and watched for a while. Then you walked in, sat on the edge of the mattress, and patted your thigh. “Maria. Here.” She crawled over. You pulled her up so she was straddling your lap facing away from you, then reached around an
By mid-morning the house smelled like coffee and sex. Maria stood at the stove naked, frying eggs, her ass still marked from the night before. Carl leaned against the counter, also bare, watching her with that same quiet focus. His cock hung heavy between his legs, half-interested already. You sat at the table in just a pair of shorts, scrolling through your phone like nothing unusual was happening. When Maria set the plate in front of you, you pointed at the floor beside your chair. “Kneel.” She dropped down. You spread your legs and pulled your cock out through the open fly. Still soft from the morning round, but she knew what you wanted. She took it into her mouth and held it there, warm and wet, while you ate. Carl watched from across the kitchen. Every time you shifted, she adjusted, keeping you comfortable. When you finished the eggs you rested a hand on the back of her head and pushed a little deeper. She gagged once, then settled again. You looked at Carl. “Come here.”







