My Daddy’s Friend part I

Lila POV I never expected him to be so young.When my dad mentioned that one of his friends would be staying at the house for a few days, I pictured someone closer to his own age. Someone with a slightly receding hairline, maybe a wedding ring, the kind of man who would call me “kiddo” and talk about interest rates or golf. Instead, the man standing in our living room was twenty-five — only five years older than me.His name was Ryan.He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell a little messily over his forehead and a smile that felt far too easy for someone who was supposedly my father’s friend. When he held out his hand, I took it without thinking. His palm was warm and slightly rough, and his eyes stayed on mine a second longer than they should have.“So you’re Lila,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Your dad talks about you all the time.”I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “I didn’t know he had friends this… young.”Ryan laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “We met through

My Daddy’s Friend part ii

The next morning I woke up already restless. Sunlight filtered through the curtains of my childhood bedroom, and the first thought that entered my mind was Ryan — only a few doors down the hall. I lay still for a long moment, listening to the quiet house, wondering if he was already awake. My body still carried the leftover heat from the night before. Every time I shifted under the sheets, the soft fabric of my shorts brushed against sensitive skin and reminded me how easily he had gotten under my skin.I showered, pulled on a simple tank top and a pair of soft shorts that sat low on my hips, and went downstairs. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen. Ryan stood at the counter with his back to me, wearing a plain black T-shirt and dark jeans. His hair was still slightly damp from a shower. When he turned and saw me, his eyes moved over my bare legs and the thin straps of my top before he caught himself.“Morning, Lila.”“Morning.” My voice

My Daddy’s Friend part III

“Lila — I’m close.” Ryan’s voice was rough, almost strained. His hand stayed in my hair, giving me every chance to pull away. I didn’t. I kept him deep in my mouth, working him with my tongue and fist until he came with a low, broken groan. Thick pulses filled my mouth. I stayed with him through every tremor, swallowing everything he gave me. When I finally lifted my head, Ryan was staring at me like the ground had shifted under him. His chest rose and fell hard. Something raw and uncertain sat in his eyes — desire mixed with the clear knowledge of whose daughter I was. I wiped the corner of my mouth and sat back on my heels. The guest room felt too quiet. Afternoon light cut soft stripes across the bed. He reached for me and pulled me up until I straddled his lap. He kissed me deeply, tasting himself on my tongue. One hand settled on my ass; the other cupped the side of my face. “You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured. “I wanted to.” I meant it. The whole time I had been

My uncle secret Part i

Olivia POV The rain began during dessert and only grew heavier. By the time the last of the relatives had driven away, the low roads near the highway were already flooded. My uncle stood at the front door with his phone, checking the radar, then looked at me.“Roads are bad,” he said. “No sense trying to drive home in this. Guest room’s ready. Stay the night.”I was twenty-five. He was forty-two. We had always been close in the easy way family can be—shared jokes, the same taste in bad movies—but something had felt different for months. Looks that lasted a second longer. His hand resting on my back a moment more than necessary. I told myself it was nothing.“Okay,” I answered. “Thanks.”We ended up in the living room after everyone else was gone. He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed me one.“To surviving another family dinner,” he said.I took a sip. “Barely. Aunt Carol asked me again when I’m getting married.”He sat on the opposite end of the couch. “What did you tell her?”

My uncle's secret Part III

He held himself there, the thick head of his cock pressed against my entrance, slick and hot, rolling his hips in those small, deliberate strokes that never quite gave me what I wanted. My breath was already shaky. His forehead rested against mine. Neither of us looked away.“Please,” I whispered again.He didn’t push in right away. He kissed me instead—slow, deep, the kind of kiss that felt like he was still deciding something. One hand stayed on my hip, keeping me from lifting up. The other slid up my side and cupped my breast, thumb brushing the nipple he had sucked earlier until it hardened again under his touch.“I’ve thought about this for months,” he said against my mouth. His voice was low, almost strained. “Every time I watched that video I told myself it was the last time. Then I’d open it again the next night. I hated how much I wanted you. I still do.”“I know,” I answered. My hands moved over his shoulders, feeling the tension there. “I stood in the doorway and watched

My uncle's secret Part II

He stared at me. His hand was still wrapped around himself, frozen mid-stroke. The video kept playing on the laptop—my younger voice moaning while the man on screen kept moving. Neither of us spoke for several seconds. The only sounds were the rain against the windows and the low audio from the recording.I still held the plate of cake. My fingers had gone cold around it.“I brought you this,” I said finally. “You said you always eat a second piece late.”He looked at the plate, then back at my face. Slowly he released himself and pulled his sweatpants up, though the hard outline of him was still obvious. He reached over and closed the laptop. The room went dimmer, lit only by the hallway light behind me.“How long were you standing there?” he asked. His voice was rough, almost careful.“Long enough.”He dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”I stepped fully i