All Chapters of On My Knees, Daddy: A Steamy Compilation of Erotic Stories : Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

 Chapter One: Fingers Wrapped Around His Cóck   I sat in the last pew. Shadows clung to me like lovers. The church smelled of old wood, candle wax, and faint incense. Moonlight sliced through stained glass. Red and blue fragments painted the stone floor. I wore black lace under a thin dress. The fabric clung to my curves. My skin felt hot. Hungry.   I started humm   ing. The melody curled through the empty nave. Ancient. Sinful. It wrapped around the air. Pulled at hidden wants. I watched the door behind the altar. He appeared moments later. Assistant Pastor Elias. Tall. Lean. Dark hair falling over his forehead. His eyes were wide and he looked confused, like he was already lost.   He walked toward me, steps slow. Mechanical. Like strings tugged his limbs. Possession looked goo

Chapter One: Hard Cóck   The dust rose in thick clouds behind us, red and choking, as the motorcycle tore along the unpaved village track. The engine snarled, deep and hungry, drowning out everything except the rush of wind and the thud of my own heartbeat.   I swung my leg over the back seat, skirt already riding high on my thighs, bare skin sticking slightly to the still-warm leather. My knees settled on either side of the driver’s hips, and I pressed forward just enough to steady myself.   He threw one quick glance over his shoulder—dark eyes catching mine for half a second—then nodded once, silent. No introductions, no questions.   He simply kicked the starter, and the bike lunged forward like something alive.   We shot dow

Chapter 1: Leaking Nípples   I sat alone in the dim office. The clock showed past ten and papers spread across my desk. My bréasts ached heavy, full, straining against the thin blouse. Damp patches darkened the fabric over both nípples. Milk leaked steadily. Warm trickles slid down my skin. I shifted in the chair. Thighs pressed together. Heat pooled low in my belly. I felt hórny and desperate. Work kept me late again and no one else stayed.   I glanced at the door. Locked. Quiet hallway beyond. I picked up my phone. Dialed my husband. He answered quickly with his voice low, probably rough from sleep.   “Lillian. You okay?”   “No,” I whispered. “They’re so full. Leaking everywhere. I can’t focus.”  

Chapter One: The Wash   They dragged me into the wash room. Two women gripped my arms hard. Their fingers dug in like claws. My bare feet scraped the cold stone floor. I stumbled forward. The air felt thick with steam and musk. My heart pounded loud in my ears.   Women filled the long, low room. Some soaked in pools. Some scrubbed their skin. All of them turned to stare at me. Their eyes gleamed bright and curious. One tall woman with wet dark hair stepped close. She grabbed my shirt at the neck. She yanked hard. The fabric tore open. Cool air hit my chest. I twisted away. The women holding me did not let go.   Another woman laughed low. She reached out. Her palms covered my bréasts through the thin bra. She squeezed. Her thumbs brushed my nípples. They hardened fast. I gasped. I jerked back. More hands joined in. They tore the re

Chapter One: Big Cucumber in My PússyI stood alone in the massive kitchen, palms pressed flat against the cold marble counter. The lights were dimmed low, casting long shadows across the polished surfaces. The house stayed unnaturally quiet except for the steady, low hum of the fridge and the faint tick of the wall clock. My husband was away again—another business trip, another week of silence stretching into the distance. My body screamed for touch. Any touch. Months without him inside me. Months of nothing but my own fingers sliding desperately between my thighs—not enough, never enough to quiet the ache.The cucumber waited on the counter like it had been placed there on purpose. Thick. Long. Fresh from the fridge, skin still slick with condensation that beaded and dripped slowly. I picked it up; the chill bit sharp into my fingers, almost painful. Perfect. I hiked my silk robe open with trembling hands. Let the fabric slide down to my elbows and pool there. Bréasts spilled free i