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PROLOGUE
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2026-07-13 16:18:40“Ouch…Daddy” I breathed out, as he clashed my mouth with his tongue. His scent was so irresistible. His hands moved gently against my skin. He was caressing my neck bone and arms, I felt his hands cupping my breast, squeezing them gently and ignoring me with a soft burning sweet sensation. He roamed his hands towards my nipples and pinched my nipples like he wanted suck on them.
His lips came down to my neck slowly, licking and leaving love bites. The adrenaline in me was becoming pleasurable. As my fingers scratched against his hair. Pulling him closer. I didn't know what I wanted.
“D…Daddy…”
“Shhh… baby girl… just get ready for what I'm about to do to you,” his voice sent chills against ear.
His hands slid to my thighs as he pushed them up and spread them apart. My skirt was hiked up to my waist, and my breast danced in the rhythm. He lowered his head slightly forward and licked my nipple, playing with it with his tongue and soon started to suck it like his favorite lollipop while his other hand slowly slid into my panties. He allowed his other finger to undress me while he played naughty with my nipples. I let out a soft moan and my back arched.
I started to feel different at every touch. Something wet was slippery between my thighs. Daddy saw it and said. “You're so wet… I want to see what they taste like.”
He left my nipples and started to kiss down my body, over my stomach, and around my inner thighs, till he reached closer and closer to my vigina. He let out a kind of wicked smile and took a deep inhale of my wet pussy.
“You smell so good…,” his breath lingered against my wet pussy, making me wetter, “I bet you taste great.”
And with those statements, he licked my clit with his tongue repeatedly, in different angles, making me moan in desire, before finally using his fingers to open up my thigh the more. And immersed his face in between my legs and sucked on my clit. ‘D…D…Daddy!!!” I cried out his name, my fingers digging deep in his hair. He increased his speed on my clit, sucking every bit of what he wanted. Giving me the vibration that I needed. It felt so good and astonishing. I closed my eyes, seeing butterflies behind them, colors flying every time his tongue and mouth flicker over my clit, down across my slit and back up again.
“Call me by my name… baby girl…,” he muttered beneath my pussy, while sucking on every bit of my juices that poured out.
He sucks his tongue in and out and up again to suck hard on my clit.
“Ahhh fuck! Yes…oh yes… fuck…” I moaned. He was sucking inside me hard and fast, his face against my pussy. His grip tightening on my hips, he was hitting that perfect spot with his lips and I was seconds away from losing my mind.
“Ohhhhh ohhhh ohhhh yes… faster Richard ahhh yesss… I think I'm gonna cum…ohhh…”
My eyes were squeezed shut, my fingers clawing deep into his smooth skin. I was already feeling the waves of release coming at me, as I embraced all the dirty pleasures washing through me.
Latest chapter
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(Millie POV)Night has fallen, and the house relaxed in the way it always did here slowly, completely, without the residual noise of a city that never fully slept. I remained on the porch long after the call with Henrietta ended. Richard had gone inside to give me space, but I could feel him moving through the rooms behind me, the low sounds of a man trying not to hover. When the air grew too cool to ignore, I finally stood and went in. He was in the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch with a book open in his hands that he clearly hadn’t been reading. The moment I appeared he set it aside.“You were out there a long time,” he said.“I needed the air.”I sat beside him. For a while neither of us spoke. The environment felt quiet, and calm. The only light came from the lamp in the corner, soft and yellow. Shadows stretched across the floorboards in familiar shapes I was only beginning to recognize as ours.“She sounded better by the end,” I said eventually. “Still hurt. And st
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(Millie POV)The second message from Henrietta arrived just after dusk. I was standing in the kitchen of the Vermont house rinsing the mug Richard had used earlier when the phone lit up on the counter. For a split second my body tensed the way it still did with every unknown vibration. Then I saw her name and the tension changed shape.Henrietta:Can you talk? Really talk. Not just text.I dried my hands and carried the phone out to the porch. The air had turned cooler in the evening. Trees moved in dark shapes beyond the railing. Richard was upstairs checking something with the heating; and I could hear faint footsteps through the open window. I sat on the wooden steps, pulled my sweater tighter around myself, and called her.She answered on the second ring.“Millie?”Her voice sounded thinner than I remembered, like she had been using it carefully all day.“I’m here,” I said. “I hope you're well.”There was a short silence filled with the soft static of distance. Then she exhaled.“
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(Henry POV)The first unanswered message that I sent, was an annoyance. The second became something colder.I sat in the parked car across from her building with the engine off and watched the windows. Her floor stayed dark longer than usual. No shadow moved behind the curtains. There was no light that flicked on in the kitchen the way it usually did when she came home and dropped her keys on the counter. I had memorized those small patterns without ever deciding to. They were simply there, filed away like everything else I kept about her.I sent another message.Henry:You’re making this harder than it needs to be.No reply came through. I stared at the screen until the text dimmed, then locked the phone and set it in the passenger seat. My hands were steady. That fact mattered to me. Anger that shook was useless. And anger that stayed quiet could be shaped.She had told me not to come over. She had used the word space as if it were something I was required to respect.I replayed the
Step Daddy's Lakeside Sin The Message That Reached Me
(Millie POV)The morning in Vermont had been quiet in the way I was still learning to trust and adapt too.Richard had gone into town for groceries and to check on a few practical things for the house. I had stayed behind, wrapped in one of his sweaters, sitting on the porch with a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. The trees moved in slow waves beyond the railing. Somewhere farther off, a bird kept repeating the same short call. It should have been peaceful. Mostly it was.My phone buzzed against the wooden armrest. I almost didn’t look. Because art of me still expected unknown numbers or worse. When I picked it up and saw Henrietta’s name, the relief was immediate, and then it turned into something heavier the moment I opened the message. It was long. I read the first lines and felt my stomach drop.“I don’t know where you are. I don’t need to know yet. I just need you to know that something happened with Henry and I can’t stop replaying it. He took me into a restroom at a res
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(Henrietta POV)The morning light came too early.I had slept in broken pieces, waking every hour with the same tight feeling in my chest. The mark on my hip had darkened overnight into a clear bruise in the shape of his fingers. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time, staring at it, before I pulled a loose sweater over my head and made the bruise disappear.My phone was already waiting with messages.Henry:Did you get home alright?Henry:You’re quiet again.Henry:Henrietta. Answer me.I left them unread.The old version of me would have replied within minutes. She would have softened the silence with a soft excuse, a soft emoji, something to keep the peace. That version felt very far away this morning. I made coffee I didn’t drink and sat at the window with my knees pulled up, watching the street below without really seeing it. The restroom kept replaying whether I wanted it to or not. It wasn't just the act itself, but the cold marble, the force, the way he had s
Step Daddy's Lakeside Sin The Weight of After
(Henrietta POV)I sat through the rest of dinner like a person watching herself from across the room. Henry ordered dessert. He spoke about ordinary things. A project he was considering, a place he wanted to take me next week, the way the lighting in the restaurant made my skin look soft. His voice was calm again. The same polite manner, almost warm. Every so often his foot brushed mine under the table, and each time it happened I felt my body pull inward, as if my skin itself was trying to get away from the contact. I smiled when I was supposed to smile. I answered when he asked questions. The words came out of my mouth in the right shapes, but they didn’t belong to me anymore. Inside, everything had gone quiet and cold.Yet I could still feel him.The memory of the restroom sat in my body like a bruise that hadn’t finished forming. The cold marble under my palms. The force of his hand between my shoulder blades. The way he had told me I could take it while he took what he wanted. Wo
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