All Chapters of Daddy's Secret: A Collection of Forbidden Stories: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Mom had been dating Victor for six months when he and his son Jamal moved in. Victor was forty-five, tall and thick from years of gym time, dark skin, short beard, always in tight shirts that showed off his broad chest and arms. Jamal was twenty-two, leaner but just as built, dreads loose down his back, easy smile that made girls stare. Living with them turned into pure torture. I'd catch Victor's bulge shifting in his sweatpants when he walked past my room, or Jamal shirtless after a workout, his abs flexing and sweat trickling down. My pussy would throb just looking at them . But Mom was happy, so I kept quiet…. Until she left for her work trip that Friday.She flew out early in the morning and Victor said he'd cook dinner, but I lied and told him I had plans with friends. Instead I locked myself in my room, laptop open, scrolling for something filthy.I soon found a threesome video with a girl sandwiched between two black guys, one older, one younger, taking turns stretching her

Victor ran a hand down my spine, fingers dipping between my ass cheeks to trace the mess dripping from my hole."Look at this cunt," he said quietly. "So full already, but still leaking like it wants more. You really are a greedy little slut, aren't you?"I nodded, voice hoarse. "Yes. I want everything. Don't stop until I'm overflowing."Jamal laughed softly, shifting so his half-hard cock brushed my thigh. "Then get on your knees. We're gonna fill you one more time, both of us, together."They helped me up. My legs shook, but I knelt on the bed, ass high, face down on the pillow. The position made more cum drip out immediately slow and creamy rivulets running down my legs. Victor knelt behind me again, Jamal in front. This time they didn't tease me.Victor rubbed his thick head through the sloppy mess at my entrance. "This pussy's so used and wet. Gonna slide right in." He pushed forward slow, letting me feel the stretch all over again. My walls fluttered around him, still puffy and

The city lights twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Apex Tower, but inside the executive suite on the 45th floor, the only glow came from the desk lamp and the heat building between them.Elena Vargas the sharp and ambitious new junior associate, had stayed late again voluntarily this time. Her boss, Damian Reyes, the ruthless CEO with a reputation for breaking hearts and deals alike, had asked her to review the merger files. But everyone knew the real reason she stayed, the way his dark eyes lingered on her legs when she crossed them in meetings, the low timbre of his voice when he said her name like a command.It was past 10 PM. The office was empty, silent except for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of papers. Damian leaned back in his leather chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms, tie loosened. He watched her bend over the desk to point out a clause, her tight pencil skirt riding up just enough to tease the lace edge of her thigh-

The conference room lights were off except for the soft blue glow of the projector Elena had powered on screen blank but reflective like a giant mirror, throwing their silhouettes across the wall in high definition. The long table gleamed under city lights streaming through the glass walls. Risky as hell anyone in the opposite tower with binoculars could catch a glimpse but that only made her wetter.Damian entered behind her, locking the double doors. In his hand: a sleek, black bullet vibrator he'd pulled from his locked drawer. He didn't speak at first just circled her like prey, eyes devouring the way her short dress clung to every curve, no bra, no panties, nipples already peaked and visible."Face the screen," he commanded, voice rough. "Hands on the table. Ass out. Show the city what a needy little whore you are for your boss."Elena bent forward, palms flat on the cool mahogany, dress riding up to expose her dripping pussy and the curve of her ass. The screen reflected everyt

The rest of that shift felt like torture. Every time I walked past the holding block, I could almost feel Marcus watching me through the bars, that smirk burned into my brain. My thighs were still sticky from him, my uniform wrinkled in places I couldn’t explain away, and every step reminded me how thoroughly he’d wrecked me. I kept telling myself it was a one-off thing stress relief, bad judgment, whatever. But deep down I knew I was lying. My body was already craving the next hit.Around 4 a.m., when the station was basically a ghost town except for the desk sergeant dozing over paperwork, I made my move. I grabbed the evidence-room key from the lockbox I’d “forgotten” to log it earlier, checked the hallway camera feed on my phone to make sure no one was coming, and slipped down the corridor like I was the criminal.The evidence room is this cold, windowless box at the back of the building shelves of tagged bags, boxes of seized weapons, drugs, cash, all kinds of confiscated shit.