บททั้งหมดของ All Yours: Short Romantic Stories: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

I still couldn’t believe Mom actually went through with it. One minute she’s crying over Dad’s old photos, the next she’s marrying some literature professor she met at a faculty dinner three months ago. Whirlwind didn’t even cover it. I got the call two weeks ago: “Honey, pack your things. You’re moving in with us for senior year. It’ll be good for you.” Like I was twelve again. So here I was, hauling the last box up the stairs of this big old colonial in the hills outside campus. Hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the smell of coffee and old paper. My new bedroom was at the end of the hall, right across from the master. Convenient. He was downstairs when I came back for the final bag. Alexander Kane. Alex. My stepfather as of last Saturday. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Dark hair with a little gray at the temples. He wore a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that fit like they were made for him. No tie. Glasses pushed up on his head.

The next morning I woke up with fingerprints still faintly visible on my hips and a deep, satisfying throb between my legs. Mom was humming in the kitchen when I came down. Alex stood at the counter in gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt that clung to his chest. No glasses. Hair messy. He looked dangerous like that—less professor, more the man who’d bent me over furniture and filled me until I couldn’t think. He handed Mom a mug of coffee, then looked at me over her shoulder. His eyes dropped to the thin tank top I’d slept in. My nipples were already hard. He didn’t smile. Just stared for a second too long before turning away. “I’m heading to campus early,” he said. “Office hours.” Mom kissed his cheek. “Don’t work too hard.” I waited until she left the room, then stepped close enough that my breast brushed his arm. “Should I come by during office hours… Professor?” His hand shot out under the counter, gripped the inside of my thigh hard, and slid up until his fingers pressed a

I woke up to the sound of Mom’s voice in the hallway, soft and confused. “Alex? Why is there a blue button on the stairs?” My stomach dropped. I sat up too fast. The dress from yesterday was still on the floor where he’d left it, two buttons missing. One of them must have fallen when he shoved me against the banister the day before. I heard him answer, calm as ever. “Must’ve come off one of your blouses. I’ll check later.” A pause. Then her footsteps moved toward their room. I stayed frozen until the house went quiet again. Downstairs, the kitchen felt too bright. Mom was already dressed for work, scrolling through her phone. Alex stood at the counter in a dark suit, pouring coffee. When I walked in he didn’t look at me. Not even a glance. “Morning, honey,” Mom said. “You look tired. Late night?” “Couldn’t sleep.” My voice came out rough. I could still feel him between my legs. The ache was deeper today. Permanent. Alex set a mug down in front of me without meeting my eyes. H

I never heard the front door. Jake had me bent over the side of Daddy’s bed, skirt shoved up around my waist, panties yanked to the side and stretched tight across one thigh. His cock was buried deep, slamming into me hard enough that the headboard kept tapping the wall in a steady rhythm. One of his hands was twisted in my hair, the other locked on my hip hard enough to bruise. I was moaning into the mattress, legs shaking, already close. The wet sound of him fucking me filled the room. That’s when the bedroom door opened. Jake froze mid-thrust. I lifted my head and looked straight into Daddy’s eyes. He didn’t yell. He didn’t even look surprised. He just stood there in the doorway still wearing his jacket, staring at the exact place Jake’s cock disappeared inside me. His jaw was tight. His eyes were flat and cold the way they got when someone had really fucked up. Jake scrambled backward so fast his dick slapped against his stomach, shiny with me. “Shit—Mr. Hale, I didn’t—we we

I woke up still sticky. The sheets under me were cold and damp where his cum had dried on my thighs and between my cheeks. My ass felt swollen. My cunt was sore every time I shifted. The taste of him was still faint on the back of my tongue. I hadn’t moved much during the night. I was too tired and too sore and too scared of what would happen if I disobeyed. The door opened just after the light started coming through the curtains. Daddy walked in already dressed for the day—dark jeans, black shirt, sleeves rolled. He looked at me like he was checking a piece of property he’d left overnight. No smile. No soft word. “Sit up.” I pushed myself up. My arms were still stiff from the cuffs the night before. He watched the way my thighs stuck together when I moved. A thin string of dried cum stretched and broke. “Show me.” I spread my legs. He stepped closer, reached down, and pushed two fingers into my cunt without warning. I winced. He felt around inside me, then pulled them free an