CUM FOR ME, VIRGIN: Forbidden Daddy’s Filthy Sex Stories

CUM FOR ME, VIRGIN: Forbidden Daddy’s Filthy Sex Stories

last updateآخر تحديث : 2026-06-01
بواسطة:  Manie Dمستمر
لغة: English
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“Deeper, Daddy… please I want you to fuck my wet pussy so hard.” She begged, her breathless moans filling the room. “I know I shouldn’t want your cock this bad… but you fuck so good and I’m fucking soaked, I can’t stop begging.” Her tight little hole clenched around his thick cock as he slammed in harder, flooding her womb with his hot, sticky cum. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably. She was gasping and crying from too many orgasms one at a time. This isn’t love. This isn’t gentle. This is CUM FOR ME, VIRGIN: Forbidden Daddy’s Filthy Sex Stories — a filthy collection of raw taboo stories where dominant older men claim innocent young virgins who were never meant to be touched. Stepbrothers, landlords, therapists, uncles they don’t ask. They take. They choke, spank, throat-fuck, and break good girls open until their tight pussies throb for more. Ruthless hands gripping thighs tight till the good girls in them break. Whispered degradation mixed with filthy praise. And just trembling, dripping, addicted sluts who crave their next forbidden making out. Warning: EXTREMELY EXPLICIT. TABOO. OVERSTIMULATION. ROUGH. If you’re under 18 or want sweet romance, this is not for you. But if you need your panties ruined, your clit aching, and your mind flooded with dirty thoughts you can’t admit… dive in. One hand on your phone. The other sliding between your legs. Ready to sin?

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BOOK ONE: TAKING MY UNCLE’S COCK

Lara’s POV

I had a simple list planned out for this holiday.

Not a written one, because even I know that’s a little too much. But a mental one, which honestly is worse because it means I’d been rehearsing this holiday in my head since Tuesday.

Day one: settle in, claim the good reading spot on the porch before Aunty Clara’s kids destroyed everything. Day two: remind Uncle David about the swimming lessons he casually promised back in March like it was nothing. Day three: go home slightly less predictable than I arrived.

Simple. Controlled. Completely me.

I even had two playlists ready. One for reading. One for the water. Because I’m thorough like that.

My friends would say I was boring. They repeated it constantly, with that particular brand of affection that somehow still managed to sting every single time.

They think it’s funny. They have no idea of last semester, when the guy that I liked in my economics class ghosted me at the party saying I was too stiff and boring to bother with. I didn't want to be the invisible girl just left out there, everyone trying to figure it out.

I don’t know how to say this, but I never knew how to explain that I wasn’t afraid of wild. I just preferred to do things quietly and let the results speak for themselves. There’s a difference. Just that no-one had waited long enough to see it.

The island was beautiful in that aggressively obvious way that made you feel guilty for not being happier about it. Turquoise water. White sand. Air that was so dense and hot and tangible. I was sitting on the porch with my novel open, listening to my music, and telling myself I was just fine.

I was basically lying to myself.

The cabin behind me was noisy, with the family bustling around. Aunty Clara giving directions about luggage. Mom leaving a list for a two day hike – as if she was preparing for a moon landing. Dad's laughter, like always when he was excited. All of it had not disturbed my younger brother, Baby Max, who was already to sleep in his travel cot in the corner of the main room having previously been fed.

I pretended to read a page I hadn't yet turned, and acted like that it was my business.

So Uncle David came out of the water.

He lived his life as if he knew that things were going to be fine, and he was just waiting for others to finally get the message.

Water rolled off his broad shoulders, glistening down his solid chest dusted with dark hair. He wore a low-cut swim trunks, and the sharp V-line was no longer covered by the trunks. There was something real about him, something made of real labor, not gym mirrors. He was in his mid-thirties, sun-tanned, with that soft strength around his middle that made him feel solid enough to lift me without effort.

The sensation was between my legs, it was just like the scenes I would read in those secret erotic novels I had at home on the e-reader. How my clit got hard and pulsed each beat; the slow growing pain, the weightiness of my breasts. It was a feeling I never had in real-life. Until now. With my flirty uncle.

He looked and he saw me on the porch. He seemed to be smiling, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling into a big smile. “Hey, kitty! Water’s so cool. Come join me!”

I shook my head rapidly, and my face got redder and redder. “No, I'm fine just sitting here. My voice was higher than normal.

He laughed, big and deep, that laugh that brought me joy each time. Then he scooped up some seawater in his big hands and splashed it amusingly towards the porch. These cold droplets fell on my legs and my thighs and I jumped back and yelled.

I laughed in the midst of the storm stirring in my body. “Heyyy! Uncle David! That’s not fair!”

A towel over his broad shoulder, he came out of the water and walked from the shore. But when he was near, he smelled like ocean salt, warm skin and something definitely manly. The aroma made my tummy jangle and my pussy clench without me even realizing it. My eyes were mostly down, crawling with the fingers of my hands over the wood of a porch, watching the way water rolled down his chest and over the flat round discs of his nipples and down the ridges of his belly, toward that thick bulge in his trunks.

“What would it feel like in my hand?” My thighs were too exposed under my oversized t-shirt and my baggy shorts, I was squeezing my thighs together now.

The wooden cabin felt smaller than usual with everyone in a hurry to make sure everything was packed up and get some reminders. Mom gave me a peck on the cheek, her perfume cutting through the salty ocean breeze. “We’ll not be around for two days, Lara. We made the forest hike strictly for couples this time, but Aunty Clara children insisted to join. You and Uncle David can watch little Max, okay? He’s napping right now and should stay down for a while. He had a big morning.”

“ Yeah… Mom,” I whispered in the tone I reserved specifically for promises I wasn’t making. My mind was already wandering somewhere far less innocent.. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Dad slapped Uncle David on the back with a hearty laugh. “Take care of them, Dave. Don’t let Lara trap herself behind her books all the time. Make her have some fun for once.” Uncle David just gave me a smirk as they all chuckled grabbing their hiking packs, heading down the sandy path toward the thick line of trees. Their voices faded gradually, swallowed by the steady crash of ocean waves against the shore. Just like that, the island felt quieter.

I stepped out onto the creaky wooden porch again, fanning my face with my hand. The heat was oppressive, wrapping around my body like invisible hands. My t-shirt clung damply to my back, and my shorts rode up slightly as I moved. I always dressed like this on trips — baggy, safe, comfortable.

“So, they just left us here, huh?” he smirked, rubbing his damp hair with the towel again, flexing his biceps once more. “Two full days with me and a little one. You sure you’re good with that, Lara?”

My heart pounded, but I tried to appear casual. “It’s okay. Max is easy when he’s sleeping. You’re… you. Not like some stranger guy or anything.”

That bit of playfulness in his smile was still there, his eyebrow raised. “Not like some stranger? I’ll take it, wow that is high praise.”

We laughed and then for a split second it was easy, like all the times before when we went on vacation as a family. Uncle David had always been the fun one, the one who took me out for a horse ride when I was little, who taught me to shoot targets with a rifle in the summers, who never treated me like a little baby.

He flirted with waitresses and tourists wherever we went and didn’t bring anyone serious around the family. Once I thought that it was his cool, bachelor style. Now I thought about things I should not .

We went inside the cabin. The wooden floors were warm under my bare feet. I checked on baby Max … still sleeping peacefully. David handed me a cold soda from the little fridge, his fingers brushing mine. Sparks shot up my arm. We settled on the big old couch, him still shirtless, long legs stretched out.

“So,” he said, sipping his drink. “What’s the plan for two days, kitty? Do you think you’ll read the whole time, or do you think you’re going to relax for once?”

I couldn’t help a smile, despite rolling my eyes. “I don’t read all the time. I just… like quiet things.”

“Quiet things, huh?” He looked at me from the side, longer than normal. “You’ve never been this quiet. Everything okay at school? Any boys I need to scare off for you?”

My face burned. My friends’ teasing echoed again. I looked down at my soda can, picking at the label. “No boys. Well… that’s part of the issue.”

David lowered his drink slowly. “What do you mean?”

The words hung there, heavy with the thick island air and the distant waves. My mental list was crumbling. This wasn’t the controlled trip I’d planned. My gaze dropped once more to the prominent bulge in his trunks, the way it strained against the fabric as he shifted closer on the couch. My mind suddenly craved for something different. The naughty thought settled deep, making me bold in a way I’d never been.

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