Todos os capítulos de Stepfamily Stories: Capítulo 121 - Capítulo 130

Mom’s voice was still in the hallway, low and professional, phone pressed to her ear. She hadn’t gone far. Just far enough that the kitchen felt dangerous.David hadn’t moved. He still stood on the other side of the island, eyes dark, jaw tight, the same hungry look he had given my chest only moments ago. The air between us felt thick enough to choke on.I set the glass down and didn’t step back.“She’s right there,” he said, voice low.“I know.”He came around the island in three slow steps. One hand gripped the edge of the counter beside my hip. The other lifted and brushed the hem of my shirt, pushing it higher until cool air touched bare skin. His fingers traced the soft curve of my waist, then higher, until his palm covered my breast and his thumb dragged over the hard peak of my nipple.A soft sound left my throat.His hand clamped over my mouth instantly.“Silent,” he ordered against my ear, voice rough and controlled. “She’s in the hallway. If you make a sound, this stops. Do

I was bent over my own passenger seat with a cop behind me, and my thong was not covering what the breakup had already made a mess of.That was the whole night.Four years. Anniversary dinner. A ring I had already pictured on my hand. I came home early because the restaurant had mixed up the reservation, and I found my boyfriend on his back in our bed with my younger brother’s cock in his mouth.Not a kiss. Not a maybe. Julian was fucking his throat the way he had never fucked me. Deep. Greedy. A hand in his hair. My brother looked at me over Julian’s head and did not even pull out.Julian wiped his mouth and said he was sorry and that he had been gay the whole time. The girlfriend was a profile. The sex had been a chore. Four years of two-minute thrusts and me finishing in the bathroom, and the man who could take a cock like that had been saving it for my brother.I did not scream. I took the keys.The road I picked was the old one. No lights. No cameras. No one who would care if I m

He did not write the ticket.He fucked me again with Julian’s text still lighting the floor mat.Vance pulled out just long enough to watch his cum leak out of me onto the passenger seat, then shoved back in while I was still open and twitching. The second stroke was meaner. No speech. His hand on my throat, not to hurt, to hold my face where he could see it. I locked my legs around his hips and took it. The car smelled like sex and leather and the night I had meant to drive until I went quiet.“Again,” I said, because he had told me to say it.He gave it to me. Deep, grinding thrusts that knocked my head against the door panel. My tits had come out of the dress somewhere between the first orgasm and this one. He sucked one, bit the other, and kept his cock buried so I could feel how much bigger he was than the man who had spent four years pretending. I came with my nails in his vest. He didn’t stop. He turned me onto my stomach across the console, one knee on the seat, one foot brace

I wore the dress I could take off without a speech.Black. No bra. A slip of a thing that showed the curve of my ass when I walked and did nothing to hide how hard my nipples were in the back of the cab. I had spent the night with two fingers in the ass Andre had opened and his address burning a hole in my phone. Camille’s smile from the table would not leave me. I still went.The house was quiet money. He opened the door in a black shirt, sleeves up, the ring still on. Camille was in the kitchen in silk again, pouring wine like I was a guest and not the girl her husband had bent over a sink.“You came,” she said, and kissed my cheek. Her mouth was warm. Her hand stayed on my waist a second too long. “Good. He hates when I pick someone and they get shy.”Dinner was a performance. Andre sat beside me, not across. Camille talked about the restaurant, about my section, about how I had looked at him. Under the table his hand found my thigh and didn’t stop. He pushed the dress up. No panti

Andre drove me to the apartment at nine, and I packed like a girl who had already been fucked out of her old life.Two bags. The dress from last night, still smelling like them. I left the rest. Camille was in the kitchen when we got back, coffee, bare legs, his shirt. She took the bags out of my hands and put them in their closet, not the guest room.“Key,” she said, and pressed a warm metal tooth into my palm. “Front door. Bedroom is not a place you knock. If we’re using you, you get used. If you want out, you leave the key on the counter. You don’t get a speech.”I closed my fist around it.They didn’t wait for night.Camille bent me over the kitchen island before the coffee went cold. Andre watched, cock out, while she ate my cunt from behind and pushed two fingers into my ass, still tender, still theirs. I came on her mouth with my cheek on the stone. Andre stepped in, dragged his cock through the mess, and shoved into my pussy in one mean slide. Camille stayed underneath, lickin