Riding My Stepdaddy [ 2 ]

I finally climbed into the passenger side, heart hammering so loud I was sure Mom could hear it over the engine. 

Daddy had already settled into the seat, legs spread just enough to make room, his dark eyes tracking every awkward move I made.

The door thudded shut behind me. Mom shifted into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, humming along to whatever pop playlist she’d queued up. And there I was, lowering myself onto my stepdad’s lap like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The second my weight settled, heat exploded across my cheeks. I was living one of my dirtiest late night fantasies. All perched right on Alex Reed, my daddy, the man I’d touched myself thinking about for longer than I cared to admit. 

His hard thighs under mine, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around me, the way his broad chest rose and fell against my back.

I swallowed hard and shifted, trying to get comfortable for what Mom had warned would be a three hour drive. My short skirt rode up instantly. The thin lace of my black panties, the similar pair he’d held in my dorm room, met the cool fabric of his dark slacks, and I felt everything. Every ridge, every shift of muscle.

A shaky breath slipped out of me. The feeling was different and burning. Then his hand settled on my waist, big and warm, thumb stroking the strip of bare skin where my crop top didn’t quite meet my skirt.

I froze. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, voice so low only I could hear.

“You’re so soaked it’s already dripping through, doll.”

My eyes went wide. Mortification and pure heat crashed over me at once. He could feel it- my arousal seeping through the lace, marking his pants. I wanted to disappear and grind down harder at the same time.

I did not know how I would meet his gaze later when this ride was over.  Mom started singing along to the chorus, oblivious, glancing at the road and then at her phone for directions.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening.

Minutes dragged by in silence, well, silence between us. Mom kept singing, the highway hummed under the tires, and all I could focus on was the thick length of him nestled right beneath me. 

Not fully hard yet, but heavy, warm, impossible to ignore. Every little bump in the road made me slide against it, and my body responded like it had been waiting years for this exact moment.

“Isa, can you pass the blanket?” Alex asked, voice perfectly casual.

Mom reached into the passenger footwell, grabbed the soft throw she’d packed “just in case,” and handed it back.

I took it, started to pass it to him, but he stopped me.

“Put it over yourself, doll. That way I stay warm too.”

I bit my lip and spread the blanket over my lap, tucking it around us both. The soft weight hid everything from the waist down.

I pulled out my phone, thumbing through reels, desperate for distraction. That’s when his hand moved.

Slowly, deliberately, he slid from my waist down the outside of my bare thigh. My skirt was already bunched high; and there was nothing stopping him. Cool fingers traced my burning skin, thumb drawing lazy circles that made my breath catch.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, trapping a whimper behind my teeth. Was this real? My stepdad touching me like this, like he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him?

I couldn’t help it. I shifted again, rolling my hips the tiniest bit. 

The friction dragged my soaked panties over the growing bulge beneath me, and I felt him harden instantly. A soft, helpless moan escaped before I could stop it.

“What happened, Lila?” Mom asked, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.

“N-nothing,” I managed, voice too high. “Just… tired.”

“Aww, my baby,” she cooed, smiling. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon.” She turned back to the road. Her shades were off now as she relaxed on her seat, driving comfortably. 

The blanket shifted. His hand slipped between my thighs, nudging them apart like they already belonged to him. My legs opened on their own, trembling, giving him everything.

One thick finger pressed right against my aching pussy, the lace barrier doing nothing to hide how drenched I was. Electricity shot up my spine. I gripped the edge of the seat so hard my knuckles went white.

He found my clit instantly, swollen, sensitive, begging, and started circling it slowly, perfectly. His finger pressed lightly against my hardened pearl and my legs quivered hard. 

I was leaking even more now, the wet spot on his pants growing under me. He leaned in again, lips barely grazing my ear, voice a dark rumble.

“Such a good girl, dripping all over Daddy’s pants just the way daddy likes it.”