Story 5: Best Friend’s Forbidden Father

I couldn’t sleep. The guest room bed felt too warm, the sheets too soft, and my mind kept racing even after Sarah had fallen asleep beside me, snoring softly like she always did during sleepovers. Thirst finally forced me out of bed. I didn’t bother putting on shorts or a robe. It was the middle of the night, and I assumed everyone else was asleep.

Barefoot, wearing only a thin white tank top that barely reached my hips and a pair of tiny pink lace panties, I tiptoed down the stairs. The house was dark except for the soft glow coming from the kitchen.

I stepped inside and froze.

Marcus stood at the counter, completely shirtless, his muscular back flexing as he poured water into a glass. At forty-five, Sarah’s father looked nothing like the typical divorced dad. Broad shoulders, defined abs, strong arms covered in light veins, years of working out had kept him in incredible shape. The gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips.

“Mr. Marcus…” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He turned slowly. His eyes immediately dropped, scanning my barely covered body. The thin tank top did nothing to hide how hard my nipples had become in the cool kitchen air. His gaze lingered on my breasts, then moved down to my tiny panties.

“Ava,” he said, his deep voice low and rough. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling very exposed. “I was just getting some water. I’ll go back upstairs right now.”

But my feet didn’t move. I stayed there, heart pounding, as he took a slow step closer. The tension in the air became thick, heavy, almost electric.

“You don’t have to run off,” Marcus murmured, setting his glass down. His eyes were dark, hungry. “Sarah’s asleep?”

“Yeah… she passed out hours ago.” My voice came out breathy. I knew I should turn around. I knew this was dangerous. He was my best friend’s father. But the way he was looking at me made heat flood between my legs.

Marcus stepped even closer, towering over me. “You’ve really grown up these past couple of years, Ava. Those little tank tops and tiny panties you wear when you stay over… you know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

My cheeks burned. “I… I don’t mean to. I just…”

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.” His large hand reached out and brushed my hip, fingers tracing the edge of my panties. “You’re walking around my house dressed like this on purpose. Teasing your best friend’s father.”

I shivered at his touch. “Marcus… we can’t. Sarah’s right upstairs. This is wrong.”

“Wrong?” He suddenly grabbed my waist with both strong hands and lifted me effortlessly onto the cold marble kitchen counter. I gasped as my ass hit the surface, my legs automatically spreading around his hips.

“Marcus, please…” I whispered, but my body was already betraying me. My pussy was getting wetter by the second.

He dropped to his knees right there in the kitchen, spreading my thighs wide open. “Look at you. Already soaked through these little panties.” He yanked them down my legs in one rough motion and tossed them aside.

Before I could protest again, his mouth was on me.

“Oh my god!” I cried out, gripping the edge of the counter hard as his hot tongue dragged slowly up my slit.

Marcus groaned deeply against my pussy, the vibration making me tremble. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined, Ava. So sweet and wet for me.” He licked me hungrily, devouring every inch of my pussy like a starving man. His tongue circled my clit before pushing inside me, fucking me with it.

“Marcus… we have to be quiet,” I moaned, one hand flying to his thick hair. “Sarah might wake up… this is so wrong…”

He sucked my clit hard, sliding two thick fingers deep into my pussy and curling them perfectly. “Then be a good girl and stay quiet while I eat this pretty pussy,” he growled, pumping his fingers faster. “Your best friend’s dad is tongue-fucking you on his kitchen counter. Does that turn you on, baby?”

“Yes… fuck, yes it does,” I whimpered, biting my lip hard. My hips rocked against his face shamelessly as he ate me out with loud, wet, filthy sounds that filled the quiet kitchen.

He looked up at me, mouth shiny with my juices. “Such a naughty little slut. Coming downstairs dressed like this, knowing I’d see you. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

“I… I don’t know,” I gasped, thighs shaking around his head. “I shouldn’t want it… but it feels so good.”

Marcus attacked my clit again, sucking and flicking his tongue rapidly while his fingers drove deep and fast. The pleasure built higher and higher until I couldn’t hold back.

“I’m gonna come… Marcus, I’m so close! Please don’t stop!”

“Come on my tongue, sweetheart,” he growled, sucking harder. “Let me taste how much you want your best friend’s father.”

The orgasm slammed into me hard. I gripped the counter so tightly my knuckles turned white as waves of intense pleasure ripped through my body. I had to bite down on my arm to stop myself from screaming his name, my pussy gushing on his tongue while my legs shook violently around his head.

Marcus kept licking me through every pulse, groaning with satisfaction, until I was a trembling, oversensitive, whimpering mess.

He finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were dark with raw hunger as he stood up between my spread legs.

“Sarah’s room is right upstairs,” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “If you want more, come to my bedroom in five minutes… but stay very, very quiet.”