My Stepdad Is My P**n Partner 5

The crew cleared out faster than I expected.

Lights powered down. Cables coiled. Jess gave us both quick hugs and told me I was a natural. Told Marcus he was, as always, a gentleman on set. She handed us each a printed call sheet for potential future shoots and disappeared down the hallway with the last of the gear bags. The warehouse fell silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the distant echo of the security gate rolling shut outside.

I stayed in my dressing room longer than necessary. Stood under the cold shower spray until my skin pruned. Dried off slowly. Pulled on my regular clothes—jeans, oversized hoodie, sneakers. The mask sat on the counter like evidence I no longer needed. I stared at it for a long minute before shoving it into my bag.

When I finally stepped into the hallway, Marcus was waiting.

No mask now.

Just him.

Dark hair still damp from his own shower. Same stormy eyes I had seen across the breakfast table years ago. Same strong jaw. Same mouth that had just kissed every inch of me on camera.

He looked at me the way he used to look at me when I came home late from parties—part concern, part something darker he never let himself name back then.

Neither of us spoke at first.

Then he jerked his head toward the exit. “Walk with me.”

I followed him out the back door into the parking lot.

The night air was cool after the stuffy warehouse. Sodium lights buzzed overhead, turning everything orange and harsh. My rental car sat under one of the lamps. His black SUV was parked two spaces down.

We stopped between the vehicles.

I hugged my bag to my chest like a shield. “So… we just pretend this never happened?”

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his soap and the faint trace of the cologne he had always worn. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

“No,” he said quietly. “We don’t pretend.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He reached out. Took the bag from my arms. Set it on the hood of my car.

Then he grabbed my wrist.

Not hard. Firm enough that I couldn’t pull away.

He tugged me toward his SUV. Opened the back door. Pushed me gently but insistently inside.

I scrambled across the seat. He followed. Pulled the door shut behind him.

The interior smelled like leather and him.

I pressed my back against the opposite door. “What are you doing? If you’re going to report me to Mom—”

He cut me off with his mouth.

The kiss was brutal. Hungry. Teeth and tongue and three years of unspoken want crashing together. His hand fisted in my hoodie at the back of my neck, holding me exactly where he wanted me. The other slid under my shirt, rough palm skating over my bare stomach, then higher until he cupped my breast through my bra.

I moaned into his mouth.

He broke the kiss only long enough to yank my hoodie over my head. Shirt followed. Bra unhooked in one practiced motion.

Cool air hit my nipples. They were already hard.

Marcus stared down at them like he was starving.

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he rasped. Voice wrecked. “Every time you walked around the house in those little shorts. Every time you bent over to pick something up. Every time you hugged me goodnight and I felt your tits press against my chest. I wanted to drag you to my room and fuck you until you screamed my name.”

He lowered his head. Took one nipple into his mouth.

Sucked hard.

I cried out. Fingers threading into his hair.

He bit down lightly. Then soothed with his tongue. Switched to the other nipple. Sucked. Bit. Licked. Over and over until both were swollen and aching and I was writhing against the seat.

He pulled back just enough to speak against my skin.

“I didn’t know when I’d ever see you on set again. Didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance to touch you. I’m not passing this up.”

His hand slid down my stomach. Popped the button on my jeans. Dragged the zipper down. Slipped inside my panties.

Two fingers found my clit. Circled slowly.

I gasped.

He kissed me again. Deep. Filthy.

Then he pulled his hand free. Unzipped his own jeans.

His cock sprang out—thick, hard, already leaking.

He wrapped his hand around the base. Stroked once. Twice.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did.

“I need your mouth on me,” he said. Voice low. Desperate. “I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Need to come down your throat. Please, baby girl. Please.”

I stared at him.

My stepdad.

Begging me to suck his cock in the back seat of his car.

I licked my lips.

“Are you blackmailing me?” I asked quietly.

He groaned. Head falling back against the seat for a second.

“No,” he said. “God no. I’m begging you. I’ve jerked off thinking about your mouth more times than I can count. I need it. I need you. Please.”

The please broke something inside me.

I leaned forward.

Took him in my hand first. Stroked him slowly. Felt him throb against my palm.

Then I lowered my head.

Licked the head once. Tasted salt and pre-cum.

He hissed through his teeth.

I took him into my mouth.

Slow at first. Just the head. Swirling my tongue around it. Sucking lightly.

His hand came to the back of my head. Not pushing. Just resting there. Trembling.

“Fuck… yes… just like that…”

I took him deeper. Relaxed my throat. Let him slide past my gag reflex until my nose brushed his pubic hair.

He groaned loud enough that it echoed in the confined space.

I bobbed my head. Slow. Deep. Hollowing my cheeks on the upstroke. Tongue pressing against the underside on the way down.

His hips started to rock. Shallow thrusts. Careful not to choke me.

“God… your mouth… so fucking good…”

I hummed around him. The vibration made him curse.

His hand tightened in my hair.

“Gonna come,” he warned. “Gonna come so hard… please… take it… take all of it…”

I sucked harder. Took him deeper.

He thrust once. Twice.

Then he came.

Hot. Thick. Pulse after pulse flooding my mouth.

I swallowed every drop. Kept sucking gently until he shuddered and tugged me off.

He pulled me up. Kissed me hard. Tasted himself on my tongue.

Held me against his chest while we both caught our breath.

“I’ll protect your secret,” he whispered against my hair. “Always. No one will ever know unless you want them to. And I’ll never leave you unless you tell me to go.”

I pressed my face into his neck.

Nodded.

He kissed the top of my head.

We sat like that for a long time.

Two people who should never have touched each other.

Two people who had finally stopped pretending.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel alone.