He Shouldn’t Know How Wet I Get for Him (part 3)

The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:17 a.m.  

Felix was still inside me.

He had flipped me onto my back again, knees shoved high against my chest, and was fucking me with long, punishing strokes that made the headboard knock softly against the wall. Every time his thick cock bottomed out I felt it in my stomach. Wet, filthy squelching filled the room—the sound of his cock slamming into a cunt that was already overflowing with his earlier loads.

“Listen to that,” he growled, voice rough with lust. “Listen to how wet this greedy little cunt is for me. You’re soaking the sheets, baby. Making a fucking mess.”

I could only moan—high, broken, desperate.  

“Ahh—fuck—Daddy… your cock… it’s so deep…”

“That’s right. Say it louder. Tell me what this cock is doing to you.”

“It’s stretching me… filling me… ohh god, it’s hitting so deep I can feel it in my throat—nnngh—”

He slammed harder. The wet slap of his hips against my ass grew louder, nastier. Every thrust forced more of his cum out of me, the mixture of our juices dripping down my crack and onto the bed. I was dripping for him, aching, throbbing, still so fucking hungry even after two loads.

Felix leaned down, sucked one of my nipples into his mouth hard enough to make me cry out, then bit it.  

“You love this, don’t you? Love taking your mother’s fiancé’s cock like a filthy little slut. Love how I ruin this tight pussy.”

“Yes—yes I love it—I love your cock—please don’t stop, please fuck me harder—”

He did.  

He hooked my legs over his shoulders and drove into me like he was trying to breed me through the mattress. The bed creaked. My tits bounced with every brutal thrust. I was moaning constantly now, unable to stay quiet—high, needy, almost sobbing sounds that mixed with the wet slap of skin and the filthy squelch of his cock churning my cunt.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m gonna come again—Daddy I’m coming—”

“Come on it. Milk my cock with that greedy hole. Let me feel it.”

I shattered.  

My pussy clamped down hard, pulsing, squirting around him in messy spasms. I cried out into his neck, nails digging into his back, hips jerking uncontrollably as the orgasm ripped through me. Felix groaned like the feeling of me coming on his cock was almost too much.

But he didn’t stop.  

He fucked me straight through it, slower now but still deep, grinding against my oversensitive clit until I was whimpering and twitching.

“Still so fucking tight,” he muttered. “Still sucking me in like you can’t get enough. You’ve been starving for this cock, haven’t you? Walking around this house for months with a dripping cunt, touching yourself and wishing it was me.”

“Yes… I wanted you so bad… I used to come thinking about you fucking me just like this… using me… filling me up…”

“And now you have it.” He pulled almost all the way out until only the swollen head was stretching my entrance, then slammed back in to the hilt. “Now you get every thick inch. Every load. Every time I want to use this pretty cunt.”

He flipped us again so I was on top.  

“Ride it. Show me how much you still need it.”

I sank down onto his cock with a long, broken moan, taking him to the root. My hands braced on his chest as I started bouncing, rolling my hips, fucking myself on him. The wet, obscene sound of my pussy sliding up and down his shaft filled the dark room. My juices and his cum were everywhere—coating his balls, running down my thighs, making everything slick and filthy.

Felix watched me with dark, hungry eyes, hands gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks.  

“Look at you. Riding your future stepfather’s cock like a desperate little whore. Tits bouncing, cunt dripping, moaning like you can’t live without it.”

“I can’t—ahh fuck—I need it—I need your cock so bad—”

“Then take it deeper. Fuck yourself harder on it.”

I did. I slammed down harder, grinding my clit against him on every downward stroke, chasing another orgasm that was already building like fire in my belly. Felix thrust up to meet me, the impact making wet, meaty sounds that only made me wetter.

“I’m close again,” he warned, voice strained. “I’m gonna flood this cunt one more time. You want it?”

“Yes—please—fill me up—breed this pussy—I want every drop—”

He sat up suddenly, wrapped an arm around my waist, and started fucking up into me with short, brutal strokes while I bounced. The new angle made his cock drag perfectly against that sensitive spot inside me. I came hard—screaming into his shoulder, pussy spasming and gushing around him.

Felix followed with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself as deep as he could and pumping thick, hot ropes of cum straight into my cervix. Pulse after pulse. So much that it started leaking out around his cock even while he was still coming. He kept grinding, locking himself inside me, making sure every drop stayed buried.

We stayed like that for a long time, breathing hard, bodies sticky and trembling. His cock twitched inside me with aftershocks. One of his hands stroked up and down my back, almost gentle, while the other stayed locked on my ass.

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he murmured against my neck. “Watching you. Wanting to bend you over every surface in this house. Wanting to taste that sweet cunt every time you walked past me. Now I’ve had it… and I’m not giving it up.”

I kissed him, slow and filthy, still tasting both of us on his tongue.  

“I still want more,” I whispered. “Even after all this… I still ache for you.”

A dark, satisfied smile curved his mouth.  

“Good. Because this isn’t the last time. Every chance we get, I’m going to fuck this pussy until you can’t walk straight. I’m going to keep you full of my cum. And every time your mother looks at me with those happy eyes, you’ll know exactly whose cock owns you.”

He finally softened enough to slip free. A thick rush of cum poured out of me onto his thighs. Felix watched it for a long, hungry moment, then scooped some up with two fingers and pushed them into my mouth.

“Swallow it. Taste how thoroughly I just claimed you.”

I did, sucking his fingers clean while he watched.

Outside the locked door the house remained silent.  

Inside, I lay tangled with my mother’s fiancé, body sore, thighs sticky, cunt still twitching with the memory of his cock—and already, even as exhaustion pulled at me, the yearning was starting to build again.

I wanted him.  

I would always want him.

And from the way he held me, still hard enough to press against my hip, I knew he felt exactly the same.