All Chapters of FORBIDDEN LUSTS (Erotica collection): Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

The house had finally gone quiet around one in the morning. Dad’s snoring rumbled through the walls like distant thunder, Mom had turned off the hallway light hours ago, and the last of the party stragglers had stumbled to their cars. I waited another twenty minutes just to be sure, heart hammering so loud I swore it would wake the whole street. Then I slipped out of bed in nothing but the same yellow sundress from earlier—no bra, no panties, skin still tingling from where Jake had wiped his fingers on my thigh like I was already his property.I crept down the stairs barefoot, avoiding the creaky third step, and eased the back door open just enough to slide through. The night air hit me cool and sharp against my overheated skin. My nipples pebbled instantly under the thin cotton. Between my legs I was still soaked—had been since the garage, a slow, constant drip that made every step feel obscene. I could smell myself on the breeze, musky and needy, and it only made me wetter.His blac

I barely slept after the truck. Every time I closed my eyes I felt his fingers stretching me, his cock pulsing on my tongue, the sting of his palm on my ass. My pussy stayed swollen and aching, clit so sensitive that even the sheet brushing against it made me whimper into my pillow. I didn’t touch myself—couldn’t. He’d told me no, and the thought of disobeying him made the throb worse, like my body was already learning who it belonged to.The next night I waited until Dad was in the living room watching a game, Mom already in bed. I slipped into a simple black sundress—short again, thin straps, nothing underneath. The fabric felt like a tease against my bare skin, nipples hard the second the night air hit me outside. I walked the three blocks to his house fast, heart racing, thighs already slick by the time I reached his front door.He opened it before I knocked. Shirtless, jeans low on his hips, muscles shifting under tanned skin scarred here and there from years in the service. His

I couldn’t stop myself. All week I’d been sending him pictures—close-ups of my tits squeezed together in the mirror, my fingers spreading my pussy lips so he could see how wet I was just thinking about him, one shot of me on my knees in the bathroom at home with my tongue out like I was waiting for his cock. Each time I hit send my heart raced, knowing he was probably sitting in his living room or his truck looking at them, getting hard, maybe even stroking himself while he stared at my body. I wanted him obsessed. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to punish me so hard I couldn’t sit tomorrow.Last night at family dinner sealed it. Dad invited him over like always—steaks on the grill, beer in the cooler, Mom’s potato salad everyone pretends to love. I wore a short denim skirt and a cropped tank top that barely covered anything, no bra so my nipples poked through every time the AC kicked on. I sat across from him at the table, bare foot sliding under the tablecloth until my toes found t

Dad invited Jake to the family cabin weekend like it was no big deal. “The more the merrier,” he said, slapping Jake on the back while I stood in the kitchen doorway pretending to scroll my phone. My pulse was already hammering. Sharing a room with him—two twin beds pushed against opposite walls, thin wooden door that didn’t even lock properly—wasn’t an accident. I’d begged Mom to let me take the small bedroom so the “guests” could have the bigger one. She thought I was being sweet. She had no idea I planned to crawl into his bed the second everyone was asleep.The drive up was torture. I sat in the back of Dad’s SUV, Jake in the passenger seat, his broad shoulders filling the space, the faint scent of his cologne drifting back to me every time the AC kicked on. I wore a loose tank top and tiny sleep shorts, legs crossed so the hem rode high. Every bump in the dirt road made my clit rub against the seam of my shorts. By the time we pulled up to the lake house I was soaked, thighs stic

 I woke up in his bed the morning after the cabin weekend with his cum still dried between my thighs and the faint scent of lake water in my hair. He was already up—shirtless, coffee in hand, leaning against the doorframe watching me stretch like a cat under his sheets. The leather bracelet on my wrist felt heavier than ever, the little lock catching the morning light. When our eyes met, something in his expression shifted—darker, hungrier, almost pained. He set the mug down, crossed the room in three strides, and pulled the sheet off me in one slow tug. Naked, marked from the weekend—faint bruises on my hips from his grip, red lines on my ass from the belt—I felt exposed, owned, and so fucking wet already. “She’s ruined me,” he said quietly, almost to himself, voice rough from sleep and something heavier. “I can’t look at your dad without thinking about how deep I’ve b