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Two.

Author: Aaliyah
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-08 21:58:06

~Olivia~

I couldn’t sleep and it was really late, instead my eyes were wide opened. Even if I did close my eyes I would be fucking him behind my eyelids.

How could I not?

When I was under the same roof with my obsession, the one that was off limits, the one that made me loose it completely. No matter how much I tried to toss and turn hoping that I could finally get my fucking eyes to close.

So instead I got up to the bathroom, Plopped into the bath tup. Legs apart with my hands in between. This has always helped to get me to sleep.

I’d thought I had gotten over masturbating, but it seems old habits die hard. With my phone in my hand I stared at his picture. The one Diane had sent to me last year, he was smiling, shirtless probably laughing at something that was in front of him.

My hands had already travelled under my night gown rubbing my clit as I stared at the picture.

He looked like a fucking demi-god. With his abs and his pretty waistline that led to what I crave for the most.

My breast were already pirky and hard just from staring at him. But rubbing my clit wasn’t enough so I shoved one finger in, grinding on it as I stared at him as if he could see me.

See how he ruined me.

I imagined him standing by the door.

Watching.

Enjoying how I tear myself apart for him.

Obsessing over him.

“Daddy, please. I want you inside of me.” I rasped breathless talking as if he could hear me.“I want you to make me your little slut. I want to to ruin me, Daddy.” I moaned shamelessly not caring how loud my voice might be.

Pulling my finger in and out of my pussy. Faster. Harder. I wanted his big cock inside of me.

I wanted to know how it felt like to be tangled in his sheets.

I want him to suck on my pussy till it’s swollen and red.

I want him to suck my tits. Eat and lick my juice like it was the only food that exists.

I want to choke on his cock.

Take him in my mouth, suck and nibble on his cock cap.

Drink his cum, and swallow it like a professional slut.

I had always imagined my 34-year old stepdad fucking me, kissing the nape of my neck slowly, deliciously, hands gripping on my waist pulling my flush to him.

Always wanted to grind my butt cheeks again his erection. Fuck.

My hips were already up, still finger fucking myself.

My eyes were on the ceiling now. Hair sprawled over the bathtub. Breath in short gasps

With my other hand reached for my nipple, squeezing and pinching until a small moan escaped my lips, slowly my tongue slid down from my neck to my breast.

My body trembled.

Not from fear.

But want.

My whole body was on fire.

My thighs were glistened, stained from sheer arousal. Sticky, gummy liquid spilled from my entrance running down my laps like a small river.

“You like this, don’t you.” I imagined him say. Hands crossed, Chest broad and eyes never leaving mine.

“Letting me watch you gravel for my touch.” His voice dropped to seductive mumur “And. My. Cock”

A small muffled whimper escaped my lips, Biting my lip until it bled.

I collapsed, gasping for air. Fingers still buried inside me.

Hair tousled wildly like I had just fought a storm.

Blood dripping from my lips.

The next morning, I was a total disaster with dark circles under my eyes and lip swollen.

I chuckled.

My fingers were still in my pussy, imagine if someone had come in and met me like this. I got up washing my face so I wouldn’t look like I had just resurrected from the dead.

The living room was lively, Squeals and laughter followed as I climbed down the stairs only to meet Diane and some strangers on the couch talking.

“Oh! Liv. You are awake.” Diane said rushing to me. Lips glossed. Dressed in a light pink bikini that barely covered her large tits that bounced with every movement she made, long legs and hips wide by her side, phone in hand.

“Mom and Dad aren’t around so I invited some friends over.” She whispered.“We are having a pool party. You are going to love it. The pool is amazing”

Typical Diane.

“You must come, There will be hot guys to make out with. The one’s who know how to fuck even with a gun to their head.” Diane purred with a wink.

Maybe that was what I needed, some party to help me get over my insanity. Over my obsession for a bit.

Before I knew it I was already rummaging in my closet and decided to go with a red bikini, that clinged to me like a second skin so I tied a scarf by my waist to cover up a bit.

Heading out to the backyard I collided into something hard. I was at the edge of falling when a hand snaked me by the waist griping me firmly. The scarf falling lose exposing me entirely to him.

“Daddy?”

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  • Sinfully yours   Thirty- three.

    ~Olivia~ Diane insisted I get out of the house. “You’ve been cooped up all day,” she said, standing in my doorway with her arms crossed, already dressed like she’d made the decision for both of us. “You need air. And I need company.” I wanted to say no. My body still felt wrong—heavy, sensitive, like it hadn’t caught up with time yet. Walking was easier than it had been in the morning, but not effortless. Every movement reminded me of yesterday in ways I didn’t want to unpack. Still, staying inside felt worse. “Fine,” I said finally. “But nothing crowded.” Diane smiled like she’d won something. “Deal.” We ended up a few streets away, at a small open café near the edge of town. It wasn’t busy—just a handful of tables, the hum of distant traffic, music playing low enough to be ignored. The sun was warm but not harsh, and for the first time all day, my shoulders loosened a fraction. Diane talked. About school. About people I barely knew. About nothing that mattered. I let her.

  • Sinfully yours   Thirty-three.

    ~Olivia~I noticed it the moment I tried to stand.Not pain exactly—nothing sharp or dramatic—but a deep, persistent soreness that lived along my thighs, inside my hips, like my body had been pushed past something it hadn’t been ready for. The friction of movement made me wince. My legs felt heavy, overused, sensitive in a way that made every step deliberate.I stayed still for a moment, sitting on the edge of my bed, letting the room breathe around me.Morning hadn’t fully decided what it wanted to be yet. The light filtering through the curtains was thin, pale, almost apologetic. Dust hung in the air like it had secrets of its own. My room looked exactly the same as it always did—posters slightly crooked, books stacked in uneven piles, the chair by the desk still holding yesterday’s clothes—but it didn’t feel the same.It felt watched.I flexed my toes, then my calves. The soreness answered back immediately, a quiet reminder I didn’t ask for. I swallowed and stood anyway, gripping t

  • Sinfully yours   Thirty-one.

    ~Olivia~ “It's your turn.” I gluped nothing, just staring—staring at the juicy head of his cock...mouth watering and pussy stinging with need. Slowly I got on my knees, and leaned in forward covering my mouth on his cock. I could hear Rowan curse, a very long one at that. “Come on, Olivia. Show me what you've got” he groaned. I smiled with slowly bobbing my head forward and backward, gagging as his cock hit my throat but I kept going...seeing how Rowan easily melted under my touch, how his hands racked around my head steadying me for support. “That's it.. Am going to cum in this sweet mouth of yours.” he grunted, moving his hips forward... slamming harder into my mouth. Tears prickled the corner of my eyes, saliva slipping down from my lips—he looked at me, eyes burning with undeniable hunger. Still fucking my mouth. I wanted him now. Buried fucking deep in me. I tried to pull away but he held me tighter. “Am not letting go of your fucking mouth without filling it with my

  • Sinfully yours   Thirty.

    ~Olivia~That was the first thing I noticed when the sky began to lighten—not exhaustion, not dreams, but the way my thoughts had been pacing all night like something trapped.Lucian’s words still clung to me.The letter.The silence.My room felt unfamiliar, like it had shifted slightly when I wasn’t looking. The curtains stirred with the breeze from the open window, moonlight thinning into early dawn.I should have closed it.I knew that the moment I heard it.A sound—not loud, not sudden. Just… wrong.Fabric brushing against brick.A careful inhale that wasn’t mine.My body froze before my mind caught up.Someone was in my room.I sat up slowly, heart slamming so hard it hurt, my gaze snapping to the window just as a shadow detached itself from the dark.“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered.I sucked in a breath anyway.Rowan.He crouched on the windowsill like he’d done this a hundred times before, one hand gripping the frame, the other raised in a placating gesture. His hair was mes

  • Sinfully yours   Chapter-Nine.

    ~Olivia~The house doesn’t settle after truths come out.I go out after sunset.Not to escape—but to remember.The air is cooler near the old café by the river. It’s where I used to come before everything became layered and sharp and complicated. Before I learned that silence could bruise worse than words.I don’t expect to see Rowan.That’s a lie.I always expect him.He’s leaning against his car like he hasn’t aged a day—hands in pockets, posture casual, smile already forming like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. Like time paused just long enough for him to step back into my life without consequence.“Still walk like you’re arguing with the ground,” he says.I stop short. “Still talk like you’re entitled to my attention?”He grins. Same grin. Dangerous because it knows me.“Missed you too.”I should leave.Instead, I cross my arms. “What do you want, Rowan?”He straightens, expression shifting—not serious, but quieter. “To see if you’re real.”I scoff. “That’s pathetic.”“Ye

  • Sinfully yours   Twenty-Eight.

    ~Lucian~There are some silences that rot.They don’t scream, don’t shatter glass or slam doors. They sit. They breathe. They wait—until you forget they’re there, until one day you realize they’ve eaten through everything you were trying to protect.That was how the house felt after the letter went missing.Quiet in a way that was wrong.I noticed it the morning after Olivia had been in my study.Not because anything was disturbed—she was careful, she always had been—but because the drawer didn’t feel right when I opened it. There’s a difference between a drawer opened by time and one searched by intent.The folder was still there.The envelope was still there.But it had been touched.My chest tightened, sharp and irrational, the way it always did when I realized she’d been closer to the truth than I’d allowed. Closer to me.I stood there longer than necessary, fingers resting against the edge of the desk, eyes fixed on the cream-colored envelope as if it might open itself and confes

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