LOGINDon't you ask that shit like you don't know, a small voice whispered in the back of his head. Wren happened. His baby girl was all about him. Wren was clearly lovestruck. No two ways about it. Willing to give herself to him even under the shittiest of circumstances. Always looking at him and just him. No one else mattered. Not even the shithead she let eat her cunt because Victor wouldn't fuck her. The same Wren that said, "How was your day, daddy?" without fail, every time she saw him. Desperate for his dick Wren. Probably crying her eyes out for him Wren. His Wren. She might only be eighteen, but to him she was all woman. Wren showed Victor what it meant to truly be desired. Wanted. Needed. In every way. He made her fucking day just by existing. And what did he do? He fucking let her move. “Victor, I’m trying—” Helen finally said with trembling lips, at her wit's end, not knowing how to get her husband back. Though which husband she truly wanted back, it wa
Willing cunt was available in his bed every night, begging for his aching dick and yet, without fail, he shut that shit down. Then proceeded to jack off to memories of an idealised version of Wren. No feelings. No annoying sobbing, like with Helen. Just fucking. Only she had cried when she left him, hadn't she? Unlike with Helen, he held her close. Soothed her with promises he was now breaking. Even liked how she cried for him. "You're not crying without daddy there to hold you, are you, baby girl?" Victor let slip as his dick shot ropes one night in the shower, now several weeks after Wren's departure. A pang went through his chest. The dull ache that turned his colorful life grey deepened. No way. He couldn't be in this state because Wren left. He hadn't been to see her because he didn't need her. He didn't fucking need anyone. He stayed with Helen because he wanted to. Breaking his promises to Wren had nothing to do with his paranoia of losing his marriage and Wre
(A few weeks ago, the night after Wren left for college) Victor came hard against the shower wall, his fist tight around his cock as he watched his cum run down the shower drain, "Fuck, baby girl. Daddy needs it so badly," he groaned with a heavy sigh. He was a pathetic cliché, stuck taking care of himself even though he was married. Except it wasn't his wife that was the problem. She would readily fuck him tonight. He just couldn't quite get into it. This shit had never happened to him before. Was his dick broken? Had Wren's young cunt done it? Was it his penance for fucking around? The memory of the last time he was inside Wren played behind his eyes in perfect, vivid detail. Her broken moans when he pounded her silly. The faces she made while her pussy fluttered as she came on his cock. Then there was the real aftermath. She had looked at him like he was the only thing in the world while he held her gasping frame. That was only this morning. And now? She was hu
“Don’t stop,” Wren gasped, her hips rolling against Orin’s hand. “God, please don’t stop. I can’t stand it anymore. I miss him so much.”Orin’s fingers curled inside her, two becoming three, stretching her open while his thumb kept steady pressure on her clit.He had heard it all before. How they were soulmates. Or he cheated. Or never even noticed her. It was all music to his ears.Meant he had chosen well and was getting his married dick wet by some or other young pussy tonight. His wife was lovely, but her pussy just didn't grip his dick as tightly as it once did. His free hand stayed locked around her throat, not squeezing hard, just holding her in place so she had to look at him.It was between Wren and Marissa, his lovesick assistant. Marissa's eager cunt could clearly wait though. Wren's reluctant one would be so much sweeter to fuck tonight. “That’s it,” he murmured, pleased with himself as he w
“What the hell is wrong with me? Get it together, Wren. NOT fucking my professor. He doesn't want your pussy. No one does," she convinced herself, crying herself to sleep again. The next time she walked into Orin’s office in the middle of the night, Wren squared her shoulders again, determined to act like the adult that society said she was. But seconds after she sat down, that bravado went up in smoke. Their eyes met as they exchanged greetings and the air instantly felt different. Sizzling sparks flew. Her throat closed up as her professor closed the door behind her, locked it, and led her to his desk.But unlike every other time she had been here over the last few weeks, he didn't go straight to reaching for the notes. Instead, he locked his fingers on the desk. That same eerie feeling of being watched came over her until she felt compelled to look him in the eye. The dark, almost possessive way his gaze had lingered on her in the lecture hall that first day, greeted her, only
“You can’t just say shit like that to students,” she muttered, voice tight, as her mind raced with possibilities. “It’s inappropriate as hell. I don't think we should—" she told him, bravely trying to rise. “Why not?” he asked, his fingers brushing the side of her neck again, slower this time. “It’s true. And you’re still sitting here letting me say it. You like hearing it. Bet your cunt even got a little damp for it." “I need the grade,” she said, her voice thinner than she wanted, defensive but meek, her shoulders stiff as her ass plummeted back into her chair. “That’s the only reason I’m still in this chair. Don’t read into it and stop touching me." “Is it?” he asked quietly. “You're an A student, Wren. You certainly don't look like you're here just to overachieve. You look like a horny whore who likes being touched by older men," he said, the heat of his breath on her skin making her neck tingle. She didn’t answer. The silence stretched. She could feel him looking at the side







