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Twins fucking the father
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2026-01-24 18:36:44
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Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] sex with Professor James pt2
I stopped hiding in the back row after that Friday. From the following Monday onward I claimed the front-center seat—right in his line of sight, legs crossed so the hem of my skirt rode high enough to show the barest hint of thigh when I shifted. I wore thinner blouses now, the kind where the lace of my bra showed through if the light hit just right, buttons left undone one extra so when I leaned forward to “take notes” he got an uninterrupted view down my top. Hard nipples pressing against fabric. No apologies.He noticed.I caught the first real falter during a lecture on Wuthering Heights. He was mid-sentence about Heathcliff’s obsessive hunger when his eyes flicked to me—lingered on the swell of my breasts for two full seconds longer than professional—then snapped back to the board like he’d been burned. His voice cracked. Just a tiny hitch. But I heard it. My pussy clenched so hard I had to press my thighs together under the desk.That night in my dorm I came three times with my
Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] Sex with Professor James
Emily The lecture hall at Eldridge was half-dead that afternoon, same as always on Fridays. Victorian lit droned on like white noise, but I wasn’t hearing a word about Jane Eyre. My eyes were glued to Professor James.God, he looked good today.He stood at the front like he owned the whole damn building—tall, broad-shouldered, sleeves rolled up to show those thick forearms I’d been staring at for weeks. His dark hair was messy in that way that made me think he’d been tugging at it while grading papers late last night. Every time he gestured—sharp, confident movements while he talked about repressed desire in Brontë—I felt my clit throb like it had its own heartbeat.I was soaked already. Had been since the second he walked in.I shifted in my seat at the very back, thighs squeezing together under my tiny plaid skirt. The room was mostly empty—maybe eight people total, most of them zoned out or scrolling. Perfect. No one was paying attention to me. No one would notice.My notebook was
Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] Riding My Step Daddy
The rest of the morning is torture dressed up as normal life.Mom comes downstairs around ten, hair still damp from the shower, humming some old song while she makes smoothies. She kisses my cheek, kisses his cheek, asks if we want strawberries or mango. We both say strawberries like nothing is wrong. Like I didn’t just have his finger tracing my soaked pussy through my shorts twenty minutes earlier. Like he didn’t promise to eat me out on his bed tonight until I cry.I sit at the island in fresh leggings and a cropped tank—nothing scandalous, but the fabric is thin and the top rides up whenever I reach for anything. Every time I stretch, I feel his eyes. Heavy. Patient. Waiting.He’s in a plain black T-shirt now, sleeves rolled to show the corded muscle of his forearms. He’s chopping fruit with slow, deliberate strokes. The knife makes soft thuds against the board. Each one lands somewhere low in my belly.Mom chatters about her book club, about the neighbor’s new dog, about weekend
Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] Riding My Step Daddy
Sunlight slices through the kitchen blinds in sharp gold bars. The coffee maker gurgles its last drops into the pot. The house smells like dark roast and toasted bread and the faint, lingering trace of last night’s humidity. I’m still sore in the best-worst way—muscles loose, skin too sensitive, a dull throb between my legs that hasn’t quite faded since I came apart under my own fingers while he watched.I didn’t sleep much after he left. Every time I closed my eyes I saw his face—dark eyes locked on mine, jaw tight, hand pressed to his thigh like he was physically chaining himself in place. The memory alone was enough to make me slip my hand back between my thighs twice more before dawn. Each time I came quieter, biting my lip until it hurt, imagining it was his mouth instead of my own palm muffling the sound.Now it’s morning. Normal morning. Except nothing feels normal anymore.I’m at the counter in tiny sleep shorts and the same oversized T-shirt I wore last night—his shirt. I did
Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] Riding My Step_, Daddy
Chapter1 Three years since Mom died, and the house still carries her ghost in the quiet corners. The way the floorboards creak in the hallway at night, the faint lavender scent that clings to the linen closet, the kitchen drawer where her favorite spatula still sits untouched. Dad—stepdad, really—never moved any of it. He just kept going. Kept the mortgage paid, kept the grass cut, kept showing up for parent-teacher nights even after I graduated high school. He never tried to be more than what he was. Never asked me to call him anything special.Until the lines started blurring so slowly I almost didn’t notice.It began with glances that lasted a second too long. The way his eyes would catch on the bare skin of my thighs when I wore shorts around the house in summer. The mornings he’d come back from his run, tank soaked dark with sweat, and walk past my open bedroom door without hurrying. I’d pretend to be asleep, lashes lowered, heart hammering while I watched the flex of his back d
Wet Desires [An Erotic Collection] Holy Gang Bang
The sun had barely crested the horizon when I stirred from the pile of exhausted bodies on the chapel floor. My muscles ached from the night's exertions, but my cock stirred at the memory of those four sinful sisters writhing under me, their pussies and mouths claiming every inch of my flesh. Sister Maria's full tits pressed against my chest, her breath warm on my neck. Elena's lithe form curled against my side, one hand idly tracing my thigh. Theresa and Lucia lay tangled at my feet, their asses still marked with faint red handprints from my grips.No regrets clouded my mind—only a hunger for more. The convent's vows meant nothing now; we'd forged a new sacrament in sweat and seed. As the others began to wake, murmuring soft prayers twisted into pleas for pleasure, I sat up, my shaft already half-hard. 'Sisters,' I said, voice rough from hours of growling commands, 'our lessons continue. Rise and prepare the altar for deeper devotions.'They obeyed without question, their eyes gleami
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