LOGIN(MY BOYFRIEND'S STEPDAD) 4
JENNA Time seemed to blur, yet sleep eluded me. I tossed back and forth against the bed. My body, hot. Aroused and wet, for a man I wasn't supposed to be even attracted to. I hope Bell would forgive me, tho I was certain he's had his fair share, fucking Maldives cunts. We hadn't spoken to each other after that last call. His phone was always unreachable, and he hadn't called me either. cussing under my breath, I sat up and propped my back against the pillow. My throat felt dry as fuck. I looked around the room, there was no spare table water. I pushed my body off the bed, and headed to the kitchen. My steps faltered to light steps as I reached the door to Tyler's room. It was now shut. I took one last glance at the door and resumed going to the kitchen. The kitchen lights were still on. Just as I entered the kitchen, Tyler's cologne hit me. Fuck! Why was he everywhere? He leaned by the kitchen counter, eating an apple like he owned the house. Which he kinda did. He noticed me, but didn't say anything. I, too, didn't say anything to him, but I felt his gaze on me. Hard, like he was trying to rip the clothes off my body. I poured some water, and brought the glass to my lips, when I heard his voice. "Nice robe," he finally said. "Can't sleep?" I ignored him, and took a large gulp of water, then placed the cup beside me. He moved, now standing behind me. Heat trickled down my core, at his closeness. My heart raced wildly. My skin, extremely sensitive. "You ever wondered what it would feel like?" He whispered close to my ear. His hot breath against my skin. I stilled. My breath caught, then I swallowed hard. "What 'what' would feel like?" I muttered calmly, despite the chaos in my mind. I leaned down. His breath hit my neck again—the same way it did the first time. "To stop pretending." I furrowed my brows and I turned sharply. "Pretending? What are you talking about?" His eyes dropped to my lips, and fuck, I shuddered from the rawness and intensity it carried. "You know what I'm talking about, Jenna." His voice dropped to a hum—pure sin. "Can you stop this, right now." I defended. I know he was right. What I had no idea was why I kept stopping myself whenever he was close. He's temptation, yeah, but I know seduction and I know he was equally attracted to me. I know he also wanted to fuck me, and I could easily seduce him into it. But I always fought myself whenever he was close, maybe it was the guilt of cheating on Bell, with none other person, but his stepdad. But that's also the thrill of it, the thought of it aroused me, more than anything. Or Maybe because I wanted him to take the first step—to chase me. Bell wouldn't satisfy me anyway. I had a feeling Tyler would, the huge bulge between his thighs promised a lot. He stepped closer, and closed the gap between us. His green iris had gotten darker, more sinful and more tempting. His sturdy chest. His abs. His muscles. His skin. I wanted nothing more than to run my hands over it. I needed to feel him. "You can shut me up, Jenna. Just say you haven't thought about it too." My thoughts spiralled to a mess. I was utterly speechless and only stared at him. Because I had. I fucking had thought about it. "Why are you doing this?" I met his lust-clouded gaze. "Bell's your son." His lips carved up, "You tell yourself the small thing, don't you? How did that go?" Fuck. I hate the fact, that he's always right. "I know you're scared of me and how I make you feel. But you can't fight the chemistry, Jenna." I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My skin tingled as his left hand suddenly cupped my chin. His big thumb ran slow circles on my lower lip. It's hard. It's hard to resist him. I pushed his hand off my chin, and stepped back from him. "I can't do this with you." He closed in again, until my back hit the counter, trapping me between the counter and him. "What exactly are we not doing, sweetheart?" He tilted his head, his brows arched. "You know, I've heard you a couple of times," "You heard nothing." I cut him off, and tried to move, but it only made him push into me. He smiled slowly, "No?" "Swear you weren't thinking of me, when you touch yourself. That you didn't call my name, when you came. Lie to me, Jenna." I can't. My breath stuttered, and I looked away. I hated that he knew about it, yet a part of me loved it. "Tyler—" "You're hard to ignore when you moan like that, Jenna." My core clenched its emptiness. I was soaked, I felt it. He reached for my robe and untied it. It slacked off my shoulders, and left me half, if not completely naked, under his sinful eyes. "Christ, Jenna—" He cussed. His expression hard. He looked conflicted, but consumed by pure lust. His voice, a sinful promise. His knee widened my leg, as he bucked his hips into me. His hard length pressed against my belly. He was so hard and warm. My breath turned messy. My eye lids, heavy. I caught my lower lip, to stop myself from moaning. "Just say the word, Jenna. And I'll stop pretending I haven't already fucked you in my head a million times." My head nodded, even before I could speak. "Say the word, Jenna. Say, you want me to fuck you. You want to feel my dick inside you, fuckin you so hard." Fuck! "I want you fuck me, Tyler." His smirk widened, "Say, Daddy... I want you to fuck me." His finger slowly slid into my pussy, as he ran slow circles around my cleft. "Daddy... Oh fuck— " I shuddered and tried to close my thighs, but he gripped it, and yanked it open for him. "You're soaked, sweetheart," he murmured against my neck. "Tell me what you want, I'll give it to you." "I want you to fuck me," He nibbed the flesh on my neck. My knees nearly gave out as he circled my clit, slow and intentional, like he wanted to learn me by memory. “Say it, Jenna.” I swallowed hard. “D-Daddy… I want you to fuck me, daddy." He groaned like it broke him. "Yes, that's my girl." His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he pressed his head against mine. "You look ravishing, and totally fuckable, when you're not pretending." His fingers slid deeper into me, curling just right — like he already knew my body, knew exactly where to touch. I gasped, my thighs twitching. "God, you're dripping for me," he groaned against my neck. "So fuckin' wet, Jenna... what would Bell say, hmm? Knowing his girl melts the second I touch her?" I whimpered, biting down a moan, my eyes fluttered shut as he added another finger. His thick fingers pushed in slow, then out, coated in my slick. Every stroke made that sloppy, wet sound like he was knuckle-deep in sin. He pulled them out — a string of wetness clinging between my folds and his fingers. Then, he brought them to his mouth. Maintaining eye contact, he sucked them clean, slow and deliberate. "Fuck, you taste like sin," he growled. "Like you were made just for me to ruin." I trembled. My throat completely dried. Before I could answer, he crashed his mouth against mine— tasting me, feeding me my own desire, devouring me. The kiss was filthy, wet, and possessive. My moan vibrated against his tongue. Without warning, his hand slid down again, and this time, he thrust his fingers back in — harder, deeper, his palm grinding against my clit with every move. I jolted, moaning into his mouth. "You like that, sweetheart?" he whispered darkly against my lips. "You want Daddy’s fingers stuffed in your greedy little pussy?" "Fuck—yes," I choked out, my hips rolling shamelessly into his hand. He grinned against my skin. "You're gonna cum on my fingers, right here in the kitchen, aren’t you?" His fingers curled again, rougher now, rubbing my clit just right, slick sounds echoing obscenely. "Say it," he rasped, his breath heavy. "Say you want Daddy to make you cum." AUTHOR'S NOTE: HEY LOVE BUGS😚😍 Thank you so much for reading this story! 💖 Your support really means the world to me. I’d also love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, or even the kinds of fantasies you’d like me to bring to life in future one-shots. Don’t hesitate to share your deepest fantasies—I’ll be checking them and doing my best to make this collection even more exciting for you! Love y'all!ARTISTIC PORN 3Elara entered the studio at exactly nine the next morning.The vibrator was gone, Vincent had removed it himself at dawn, his fingers slow and deliberate as he slid it free, watching her flinch and clench around nothing. He’d licked it clean in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers, then he kissed her once, soft, and almost tender, before telling her to shower, eat, and return.Now she stood naked in the doorway, her skin still flushed from the hot water, her hair damp and loose down her back. The gold paint was gone, but faint red streaks from yesterday’s crimson remained in the creases of her elbows and the hollow of her throat, like faint bruises from a lover’s mouth.Vincent waited on the platform.He wore only black linen trousers today, bare-chested, silver hair swept back, his forearms corded as he mixed oils on a glass palette. The spotlights were already on, bathing the black velvet chaise in harsh white light. A new set of restraints waited at each corner
ARTISTIC PORN 2 Elara woke to the low, insistent hum still vibrating inside her.The tiny device Vincent had placed, curved, unyielding, hadn’t stopped all night. It was low. Relentless. Never enough to push her over the edge, only enough to keep her wet, swollen, aching. She’d thrashed in the silk sheets for hours, her thighs clenched, fingers digging into the mattress, whispering curses into the pillow. Every time she came close, every time her hips started to roll helplessly, the buzz would drop to almost nothing, as though the remote were wired directly to her desperation.She hadn’t come.Not once.Dawn light filtered through the skylights in soft gray ribbons. She was still painted in gold filigree dried across her skin in delicate, curling patterns. The pigment had cracked slightly where her body had twisted in frustration, tiny fractures like old master canvases. She looked down at herself, her breasts heaving, her nipples dark and painfully erect, the gold lines between her
ARTISTIC PORNELARA MOREAU - FL - 19 YRSVINCENT CALVER - ML- 51 YRSElara Moreau arrived at the chalet just as the last light bled from the sky over the Alps. The private helicopter had dropped her on a snow-dusted landing pad behind the house, rotors whipping powder into her face like frozen needles. She stepped down in thigh-high boots and a black wool coat that barely reached mid-thigh, clutching the single leather portfolio that held her grandfather’s forged passport, the key to his hidden studio, and the one painting she’d never sold—the one that proved she was better than him.The pilot didn’t speak. He simply pointed toward the massive timber-and-glass structure that seemed carved out of the mountain itself. Floor-to-ceiling windows glowed amber against the darkening peaks. No doorbell. No intercom. Just a heavy iron door that opened the moment her boot touched the top step.He was waiting inside.Vincent Calder stood in the center of the great room like a statue that had deci
TASTING MY STEPBROTHER'S COCK 3The next few days were torture in the sweetest way.Dinner with their parents every night, with Julian sitting across from her, looking perfectly composed in a crisp shirt, while his bare foot slid up her calf under the table. His toes tracing slow circles on her inner thigh, stopping just short of where she ached most. Sophia would grip her fork tighter, forcing smiles at her mother’s questions, all while her panties grew soaked and her clit throbbed in time with her heartbeat.He’d catch her eye and smirk, his green eyes promising retribution.Texts late at night:Julian: Thinking about how wet you get for me.Julian: Touch yourself but don’t come. Save it for my cock.She obeyed. Every time. Every fucking time. Her fingers circling her clit until she was shaking, then stopping, her thighs slick, her pussy clenching around nothing.By Thursday night, she was desperate, her body humming with denied release, her nipples perpetually hard, her mind filthy
TASTING MY STEP-BROTHER'S COCK 2Sophia woke to sunlight pouring through sheer curtains and the low thrum of need still coiled tight in her belly. Every inch of her body remembered Julian’s hands, his rough palms sliding up her thighs, thick fingers buried deep inside her, the way he’d watched her fall apart with dark, possessive eyes. She could still taste him on her lips, feel the phantom press of his hard cock against her stomach.She rolled onto her back, her thighs squeezing together. The ache between them was relentless. One hand drifted down, slipping beneath the thin silk of her sleep shorts. She was already soaked, swollen, her clit throbbing. It took only a few slow circles to bring herself off as her quiet gasps muffled into her pillow, her hips lifting as she imagined it was his tongue instead of her fingers.Afterward, she lay there flushed and unsatisfied. A quick release wasn’t enough. She needed more. Needed him.Just then, a text buzzed on her phone.Julian: Meet me a
TASTING STEP-BROTHER'S COCKSOPHIE MURPHY (FL) - 20 YRS JULIAN HOWELL (ML) - 32 YRSSophia stepped out of the taxi and onto the sun-warmed gravel driveway, the late July heat pressing against her skin like a lover’s breath. At twenty, she was home from college for the summer, her second year behind her, and everything about this place felt both familiar and strangely new. The sprawling modern house loomed ahead, glass walls, clean lines, a sparkling infinity pool glinting in the distance. Her mother’s new husband, Victor, had excellent taste. And money. Lots of it.But Sophia’s pulse wasn’t racing because of the house.It was racing because of him.Victor’s son. Her new stepfather’s son. Her stepbrother.Julian.She hadn’t seen him in person since the wedding three months ago, when he’d flown in for forty-eight hours, looking devastating in a charcoal suit that hugged his broad shoulders. At thirty-two, Julian was twelve years older—tall, dark-haired, with sharp features and storm-gr







