로그인“How do you feel, my ex-stepson?” Adrian asked, his voice raspy.
“Ah- uhm- good?” I stuttered, my body still shaking from the intrusion. Next thing I felt was a hard blocking sensation from a tight slap on my left cheek. My ass bounced before I crashed down into the bed, his finger sliding out of my hole. “How dare you get my finger out of my filthy hole?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m sorry.” I begged, almost shaking from the loss of his finger. “Please—” “Are you begging me?” “Pl- please…” I moaned. “Ahh, fuck.” My thighs clenched together. "Then take it.” He said, very coldly. And before I knew it, his finger dived deep back into me and a whimper escaped my lips. “Arhhh… D-daddy…” The finger stayed buried inside me as my filthy hole clenched and fluttered around the second arrival of the invasion. My forehead pressed hard into the sheets. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. Every breath came out shaky and wet. “Feel that?” he asked, his voice low and rough right against my ear. “That’s just one finger, Kai. You’re already shaking.” I couldn’t answer. My throat was too tight. He started to move slowly. The finger dragged out until only the tip stayed inside, then pushed back in with deliberate pressure, twisting as it went. The stretch burned again, but underneath the pain something else began to build—heat, pressure, a strange aching fullness that made my cock twitch against the mattress. He did it again. Out. In. The wet sound of my hole taking him was filthy and quiet. “Breathe,” he ordered. “Don’t you dare hold your breath.” The next slow thrust forced a broken sound out of me. His knuckle dragged over something inside that made my whole body jolt. My hips jerked back without permission, chasing the sensation even as my mind screamed that this was wrong. Adrian chuckled darkly. “There it is. You felt that, didn’t you? That little spot that makes your cock leak.” He kept the pace glacial. Every stroke was measured, deep, and twisting just enough to stretch me wider. Spit and whatever slick my body was producing made the slide wetter. My thighs trembled and sweat broke out across my back. I could feel every ridge of his finger, every slow drag against walls that had never been touched. He added a second finger without warning. The stretch punched the air out of my lungs. I cried out, my body locking up again. Two thick fingers forced their way inside, pushing deeper until I felt impossibly full. “Fuck—Adrian—” “Say it properly.” His free hand cracked across my already-stinging ass. “Say ‘please, Daddy, stretch my hole.’” I shook my head, but the words still came out broken. “Please… Daddy… stretch my hole—” He rewarded me by pumping both fingers faster. The slow torture turned into a steady, relentless fuck. His fingers drove in and out, curling, spreading, and hitting that my prostate gland over and over until my vision blurred. The wet sounds grew louder—obscene, filthy squelches with every thrust. My cock was trapped under me, leaking a steady stream into the sheets. I couldn’t catch my breath. Every time I tried to inhale he punched those fingers deeper and the air punched right back out of me in a moan. “You’re dripping for it,” he growled. “Look at this greedy little hole sucking my fingers. You were made to be opened up like this.” I was gasping now, almost hyperventilating. The dual burn and pleasure twisted together until I couldn’t tell them apart. My hips were moving on their own, fucking back onto his hand. Tears streaked my face. I felt like I was running out of air, like the only thing that existed was the thick stretch of his fingers and the filthy praise pouring out of his mouth. He pulled them out suddenly. The emptiness made me sob. “On your knees,” he ordered. I scrambled to obey, my legs shaking so hard I almost collapsed. He grabbed my belt from the bedside drawer—my own fucking belt—and doubled it in his fist. The leather creaked. “W-What’s that for?” I asked, stuttering. I’ve seen that in one of the p**n I watched—it was only pain for those small boys. “Pitch your ass up. Your head down. Count every one.” “I can’t—” I couldn’t finish begging before he dragged me to the position he wanted, my palm and chest digging into the sheet as my ass remained in the air. The first strike landed across both cheeks with a sharp crack. Fire exploded across my skin. I jerked forward with a cry. “One—” The second came harder. The third even harder. Each strike left a burning welt. By the fifth I was openly crying, shoulders shaking, and voice cracking on every number. The pain was sharp and mean and it made my cock throb even harder against my stomach. He didn’t stop at ten. He kept going until my ass felt raw and hot and I was sobbing into the mattress, still counting because he had told me to. When he finally dropped the belt I was a mess—tears, spit, and precum smeared under me. Adrian dropped to his knees behind me, grabbed one of my feet, and brought it to his mouth. I froze. His wet tongue dragged slowly over the sole. Then he sucked my toes into his mouth one by one, his tongue swirling between the as his teeth grazed them lightly. The sensation was so unexpected, so intimate and filthy, that a broken moan tore out of me. He sucked harder, spit running down my ankle, while his free hand squeezed the other foot and forced me to flex for him. “Even your feet taste good,” he muttered against my skin. “Dirty little stepson… getting his toes sucked after taking a belt to that pretty ass.” He spent minutes on both feet—licking, sucking, and biting gently—until I was trembling again and my cock was leaking steadily onto the floor. Then he stood, flipped me onto my back like I weighed nothing, and straddled my hips. Our cocks touched. The first contact made us both groan. His was thicker, heavier, and already slick with precum. He wrapped one big hand around both of us and started stroking—slow at first, just the gentle slide of skin on skin, the heads bumping together. Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and hungry. “Feel that?” he rasped. “Our cocks kissing. Look how hard you are for your ex-stepdaddy.” He tightened his grip and stroked faster. The friction turned sharp and perfect. Precum from both of us mixed, making everything wet and filthy. He spit into his palm and added it, the wet sound of our cocks sliding together filling the room. His hips rolled, grinding us harder. Sweat ran down his abs and dripped onto my stomach. He was moaning low, rough sounds that made my balls tighten. “Fuck, Kai… your cock feels so good against mine.” He focused on the heads, rubbing the slits together in tight, filthy circles. Precum welled up and smeared between us. “You want me to keep doing this? Want me to make you cum just from rubbing our cocks together like this?” “Ah… Yes, Daddy…” I was going crazy already. The dual heat, the wet slide, the way he kept grinding our slits together until sparks shot up my spine. My hips bucked helplessly. “Please—please, I need—” “Need what? Say it. Tell me where you want me to touch you.” “My cock— my hole— everywhere— fuck, please—” He grinned satisfactorily, and kept stroking us harder, faster, until I was babbling and shaking and right on the edge. “I need to cum,” I begged with a wrecked voice. “Please, Daddy, let me cum—” Adrian shifted down, swallowed my cock to the root in one greedy slide, and at the same time shoved two fingers back into my still-open hole. With his hot, tight throat around my cock and thick fingers punching into my prostate with every suction, I gasped for air. He sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing, his tongue sliding below the underside while his fingers fucked me deep and fast. The wet sounds were obscene—slurping around my cock, squelching from my hole. I screamed, my back arching off the bed. My hands flew to his hair and held on as the orgasm ripped through me. I came hard, flooding his mouth in thick pulses. He swallowed every drop, still sucking, still fingering me through it until I was shaking and oversensitive and crying again from the intensity. “Please, stop— ah, uhmmm, fuck—” Only when the last tremor faded did he pull off. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looked down at my wrecked body, and asked, his voice rough and low, “What do you want next, Kai?” I stared up at him, my chest heaving, ass still clenching around the memory of his fingers, cock still twitching against my stomach. The words came out broken and desperate, no pride left. “Please… fuck me. Please, Daddy. I need your cock inside me. I need you to finally fuck me.”NICHOLAS’ POV. The kitchen tap ran hot over my hands as I scrubbed the last of the tomato sauce off my plate.It was almost ten. I had eaten alone, the way I always did, and the house had been quiet all evening. No knock on my door. No session. No Marshall. Every time a floorboard creaked, my whole body tensed, and every time nothing happened, I felt stupid for tensing.So much for his session. Maybe it had all been a joke. Maybe he just liked watching me squirm.Then the front door burst open.Laughter spilled into the house, high and giggly and drunk. Female laughter. Two voices.I turned off the tap and leaned toward the kitchen doorway.Marshall stumbled into the hallway with a girl under each arm. One had long red braids and a tiny black dress that barely covered her ass. The other was a curvy brunette in a crop top and skin-tight jeans, already tugging at the hem of his shirt. Their heels clacked across the floor. Their sweet but cheap perfume rolled all the way into the kitch
NICHOLAS’ POV. I sat at my desk trying to study for the forthcoming exams. But I do not seem to be assimilating anything. And if I’m right… or maybe wrong, I must have read the same paragraph more than twenty times.What a waste of my evening already! My pharmacology textbook lay open on my desk, half the page drowned in yellow highlighter, and not one word had stuck. Every time I tried to focus, my brain dragged me back to Marshall’s bathroom as I watched water pour over his shoulders and his fist sliding over that thick, dark veiny cock with a swollen and glistening head. His low and wretched voice, moaning my name while he stroked himself.And then the laundry room. His nose at my throat. That slow, deliberate breath. The way the towel had clung to the outline of his damp dickA session. With your followers.I slammed the textbook shut and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until colors burst behind my lids.My phone buzzed against the desk.Mom.I sat up straight and cl
NICHOLAS’ POV. I pressed my back against the washing machine and slid down until I hit the floor.What the hell just happened?My shorts were soaked and sticky, clinging to my thighs, the fabric cooled with my own cum. My heart was still slamming against my ribs. And my nose was still full of him—salt and musk and cotton—like the smell had crawled inside my skull and refused to leave. Every time I breathed, I tasted the inside of those black boxers again.I had just stood in my housemate's bedroom and watched him jerk off. I had filmed him. And then I had shoved my hand down my shorts and came right there on the spot, sniffing his dirty boxers like a starving dog while he stroked that thick, dark cock under the water and groaned my name.Was I losing my mind?And why the hell was he moaning my name?Nicholas. Then Nicky. Twice. I hadn't imagined it. I had heard it with my own ears, rough and breathless, while his fist was wrapped around that heavy ten-inch cock, the head swollen and
NICHOLAS’ POV. Marshall’s cock was incredibly huge. Like… it was the biggest dick I’ve ever seen my whole life—on the screen while watching porn or physically. And no doubt it was easily ten inches. Damn. It was long and thick, so dark it was almost black against his palm, the shaft thick enough that his fingers couldn't fully close around it. The head was swollen and glistening under the water, flared and pink, the slit already wet. Thick veins ran along the monster length like cords under the skin, pulsing faintly with every slow stroke. His fist glided over it in restrained pulls, twisting gently at the top, dragging the foreskin down and then up again until the head emerged shiny and full. As his hand slid back down his cock, the weight made the whole length sway. It looked like something carved for sin or built to ruin someone.I couldn't look away.Then an idea struck me so hard it almost knocked me over.Leverage.He had my mother's number. He had my secret. And now, rig
NICHOLAS’ POV. The washing machine rattled against the wall as I dumped another load of towels into it and slammed the lid harder than necessary. Two days. That was how long it had been since Marshall walked into my room and turned my whole life upside down. And for two days, I had been his personal maid. I scrubbed the kitchen until the countertops squeaked, mopped the hallway until the floorboards shone, scraped his crusted egg pan until my wrists ached, and took out the trash before he even woke up. Every time I passed him in the hallway, he looked at me with that accomplished satisfied smirk, like a landlord inspecting his property, and said absolutely nothing. Nothing about the stream. Nothing about my mother. Nothing about what he had done to me—how he had sat two feet away and made me finger myself, made me beg, and made me cum so hard I screamed. And I hadn't opened my account since. Not once. The app was on my phone like a loaded grenade. Every time my thumb hovered
NICHOLAS’ POV. “Yes, D-daddy—” The words rolled out of my mouth before I could think of stopping it. “Now, you're calling me Daddy, huh?” He grinned, his tone dark and amused.“No… I…” He cut me off. “I think you need to beg me more, slut.” My throat closed up."Beg for what?" I whispered."To cum." Marshall leaned back in the chair, spreading his knees wider, like a king who had just been handed a new toy. "Beg me to let you cum. Two thousand dollars is waiting on it. Or have you suddenly stopped needing money?"I hated him. I hated him so much my teeth ached. And my cock was rock-hard against my stomach, leaking onto my skin, a clear string already connecting the flushed head to my abs, as if it hadn't heard a single word of that hatred."Please," I forced out."Please what?""Please let me cum."He tilted his head. "Who are you asking?"The words got stuck. My lips trembled. On the screen, the chat was a waterfall of crying emojis and capital letters."…You," I breathed. "Pleas







