Chapter five: First risky encounter as step daddy

Bronte’s POV

The next morning at breakfast was pure torture.

Mom sat at the table between us, sipping her coffee and chatting about her plans for the day.

She looked normal, happy, relaxed, and completely unaware that her new husband had fucked her daughter senseless in the back seat of his car the night before.

But there was something in the way she kept looking at me.

There was a furrow in her brow and a curious tilt of her head.

“You look tired, sweetie,” she said, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from my face.

“Did you not sleep well?”

My cheeks burned. I could still feel Rufus’s cum dried on my thighs from last night.

The sticky reminder of what we had done made my pussy throb again.

“Just stayed up late studying,” I lied, forcing a smile.

Rufus sat across from me, calm and composed in his button-down shirt, but his eyes told a different story.

They kept flicking to me with dark hunger.

Under the table, his foot moved against mine — it felt like a silent promise.

Mom stood up to refill her coffee.

The moment her back was turned, Rufus’s hand slid under the table and gripped my thigh, squeezing hard.

I bit my lip to stop a gasp. His fingers were so close to my pussy that I could feel the heat.

When Mom left for work twenty minutes later, the house became silent.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the air immediately changed.

Rufus stood up slowly, his eyes locked on mine.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I walked over to him, my heart pounding.

He pulled me against his chest, one hand cupping my ass, the other raising my chin up.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” he murmured, against my ear.

“You teased me at my own wedding, coming on my cock in the car while your mother was home. What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you want, Daddy,” I whispered, with my voice trembling with need.

He kissed me then — deep, hungry, claiming.

His tongue tangled with mine as he lifted me onto the kitchen counter.

My legs wrapped around his waist instantly.

I could feel how hard he already was, pressing against my soaked panties.

He pulled my dress up, ripping my panties down my legs in a swift motion.

The cool air hit my dripping pussy, making me shiver.

“Look at you,” he growled, dropping to his knees.

“So fucking wet for your stepdaddy.”

His mouth was on me before I could respond.

His tongue licked a long, slow stripe up my slit, tasting me.

I moaned loudly, my hands gripping his hair as he devoured me.

He sucked on my clit, flicked it with his tongue, then pushed two thick fingers inside me, curling them perfectly against that spot that made me see stars.

“Oh God, Daddy… yes,” I cried out, my hips bucking against his face.

The wet, obscene sounds of him eating my pussy filled the kitchen.

He groaned against me, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through my body.

I came hard on his tongue, my thighs shaking around his head, juices coating his chin.

But he didn’t stop. He kept licking me through the orgasm, drawing it out until I was whimpering and oversensitive.

He stood up, unzipping his pants.

His thick cock sprang free, hard and leaking precum.

He rubbed the head against my swollen clit, teasing me.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

“Please, Daddy,” I begged, my voice desperate. “Fuck me. I need your cock inside me.”

He thrust into me in one powerful stroke, filling me completely.

I cried out, the stretch burning so perfectly.

He fucked me hard on the kitchen counter, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the house.

My legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips. “So tight. So wet for me.”

He fucked me faster, deeper, his balls slapping against my ass.

I came again, my pussy clenching around him, milking his cock.

He pulled out suddenly, flipping me over so I was bent over the counter.

He entered me from behind, even deeper this time.

One hand reached around to rub my clit while the other gripped my hair, pulling my head back.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled.

“You, Daddy,” I moaned. “I belong to you.”

He fucked me relentlessly, the angle hitting that perfect spot over and over.

I came a third time, screaming his name.

He followed soon after, burying himself deep and flooding me with hot, thick cum.

We stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily, his cock still twitching inside me.

He kissed the back of my neck softly.

“This is so wrong,” he whispered. “But I can’t stop.”

“Me neither,” I admitted, smiling.

He pulled out slowly, cum dripping down my thighs.

I turned around and kissed him again, tasting myself on his lips.

As we cleaned up quickly before Mom could come home unexpectedly, I couldn’t stop smiling.

This was my new reality.

My stepdaddy is now my addiction.

And I never wanted it to end.

Later that afternoon, when Mom comes home early from work, she finds us both in the kitchen looking drained and asks why the counter is so clean when she left it messy this morning.

Was she trying to feed her curiosity because she had already suspected something