All Chapters of Watch Me Explode, Daddy: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Every day was the same for Alex. He would wake up and lie still in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to put it off for as long as he possibly could. Eventually he would sigh to himself and get up, knowing he simply could not delay any longer.It was a boring job, but he told himself it was only a means to an end. He kept looking toward the future—which, if he was honest, was not that far away—and reminding himself that it would all be worth it. One day.Sometimes he wondered whether taking a year out before college had been a mistake. He had watched all of his friends leave for new cities and new lives while he stayed stuck in the same old rut at home. It had seemed like a good idea at the time: earn some money, do a bit of traveling, meet new people, and arrive at college with a wealth of real-world experience under his belt. In the end it had not worked out that way at all.Instead of an adventure it had turned into a grind. He had managed to save a little money, but nowhere near

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He felt like he must look ridiculous, so he settled on keeping it shut.She laughed once more.“I’m just kidding! Come on, I don’t mean to put you on the spot like that. Really. So, what have you got for me?”Alex remembered the package in his hands.“Oh—yeah. Here you go.”He handed it over. She took it, glanced at it quickly, then looked back at him as though she were sizing him up.She studied him more closely.“I’m Jane, by the way.”“Pleased to meet you. I’m Alex.”“Do I have to sign anything for this, Alex?”“Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”Somehow his mind had gone completely blank for a few seconds. He suspected it had everything to do with the sudden appearance of this stunning woman from the car.“Okay, well come on inside and I’ll sign that for you.”Alex stayed frozen in place for a moment, uncertain what he should do. He had been ready to drop the package and head straight to lunch. Now the entire situation felt di

He brought the fingers that had been inside her to his mouth. She watched with a smile as he licked them clean, finally tasting her. The flavor only made the hunger sharper.Satisfied that he liked it, she decided to give him more.She climbed off the bed. He watched, waiting to see what she would do next.She pushed the leather skirt down her legs, then hooked her thumbs in her panties and slid them off as well. She stood completely naked in front of him. She looked at him expectantly. It took him a few seconds to understand—he was too busy staring at the perfect curves, the toned legs, the heavy breasts, the glistening wetness between her thighs.Then he got it. He shoved his own pants the rest of the way off so he was as naked as she was. She eyed his cock greedily.She climbed back onto the bed, moving up toward his head. He reached for her, one hand sliding up to cup a breast again. She turned and straddled him once more—this time facing the opposite direction, her knees on eithe

There was no more teasing. This was raw, primal fucking. He drove into her without restraint, the heavy bed slamming against the wall with every powerful snap of his hips. The ropes bit into her wrists, anchoring her completely to the storm of his need. She met every thrust, her own long-buried desires finally unleashed, lost entirely to the taboo and the overwhelming power of him.She felt his rhythm falter. A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat as the hot, sudden rush of his release flooded deep inside her. He collapsed on top of her, his solid weight a comforting, possessive anchor.For a long moment the only sound in the room was their ragged, shared breathing. Slowly he pushed himself up and began untying her wrists, his fingers gentle as they massaged the faint red marks left by the rope. The unexpected tenderness was almost more shocking than the intensity of the sex itself.He dressed with the same quiet efficiency he had shown earlier, then looked down at her still spla

The thin motel-room walls did little to muffle the constant drone of interstate traffic—a low, relentless hum that matched the vibration of Jason’s shame. He sat on the edge of the bed, the cheap floral spread scratching at the backs of his legs, head buried in his hands. The air reeked of stale cigarettes and industrial disinfectant. Monica’s furious, betrayed scream still rang inside his skull. You sick pervert! My own mother! He had tried to explain, to apologize, but the nude photos of his mother-in-law tucked inside his accounting ledger had been impossible to deny.A sharp knock on the door jolted him upright. His heart slammed against his ribs. Monica? Had she come back to scream some more? To finally shove divorce papers into his hands? He wasn’t ready. He dragged himself to the door and peered through the fisheye lens.His blood ran cold. It wasn’t Monica.Standing in the flickering fluorescent light of the outdoor walkway was Sandra. His mother-in-law. Arms crossed, expressi