Dad Son Erotica Novels & Stories

He bit back his grunts, knowing his father would kick him out if he made a sound, but his face was a mask of pure lust. I grabbed onto Preston's blond hair, grinding my crotch into his mouth as I looked over his shoulder at Jason. I watched his hand move over his cock, and when he saw me looking, he smirked, shaking his dick at me. My pussy flooded. I was being worshipped by the father while the sons watched in agony.

His breath was warm against the back of my neck. “You almost came with my tongue on your clit while my daughter stood right outside the door,” he whispered, voice dark and rough. His fingers pinched my nipple, rolling it slowly. “Such a filthy little secret you are. My best friend’s daughter dripping for Daddy’s cock, begging to be filled.” I shivered, my core clenching at his filthy words. Even after everything, the taboo of it all made me wet again. He slid his hand down between my legs, two thick fingers pushing through the slick mess he had left inside me. “Still so full of me. I love breeding this tight pussy. Love knowing my cum is deep inside you while we pretend everything is normal.

Alexander Rossi. He was my best friend’s father. The man I’d known since I was sixteen, the one who’d driven us to soccer practice and always treated me like an extra daughter. The same man whose deep voice I’d secretly listened to whenever he spoke on the phone with his daughter in our dorm room. The same man I secretly fantasized about. The same man I touched myself to whenever I was alone. It was crazy really because what were the fucking odds? And now he was standing in front of me in a BDSM club, wearing a mask, looking at me like he was seeing me for the very first time. The shock was obvious in his voice as he said. “Abby?”

He flips me onto my stomach, grabs my hips, and fucks into me from behind, one hand wrapped in my hair. “You want to be destroyed, Zariah?” “Yes, Daddy—” “Then take it.” He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He fucks me until I’m sobbing, drooling into the pillow, my legs shaking. Until my skin’s red and raw and used. Until I don’t know where I end and he begins. And when he cums—deep inside me this time—it’s not a moan he lets out. It’s a fucking growl. Like an animal marking territory.

"Then be quiet. And don't move." She freed my cock. It sprang out, fully erect, painfully hard. She looked at it, her expression one of clinical appreciation. "My daughter has good taste, I'll give her that." Then, to my utter, world-shattering astonishment, she sank to her knees on the Persian rug. She didn't take me in her mouth like Rebecca had. She leaned in and licked me, one long, slow, flat stroke from base to tip. She was tasting her daughter on me. The depravity of it, the sheer forbidden heat, made my head spin.

said Keatton erotically. Damon stroked his dick and spat on his hands. He scattered his drool by masturbating his cock fast. “See this dick? This can ruin your ass, pussy, and mouth. But you still love it, don’t you? Daddy’s dick is all my boy wanted. Because my son is a slut for Daddy’s big chocolate dick,” said Damon

Watching her was his obsession, plain and simple. Teresa, the young woman the world thought was his daughter, stood under the hot spray, her lithe, twenty two year old body glistening with water. Her long, dark hair clung to her olive skin, cascading down her back like a waterfall. She leaned against the tiled wall, one hand braced for support while her other hand dipped between her thighs. Her fingers circled her swollen clit slowly at first, then faster, her full breasts heaving with each breath. "Daddy, oh God, Don Moretti, please. I need your dick so badly. God daddy, I'm so fucked up. Your little girl wants your dick wrecking this pussy," she moaned, her voice echoing off the walls, cap