Father In Law Erotica Novels & Stories

"Did he take advantage of you?" "No." Dad exhales slowly, rubbing a hand across his face. "You answered those too quickly." "Because they're true." His eyes narrow slightly. "Sandra…...." "No." I shake my head before he can finish. "You asked for the truth, and that's exactly what I'm giving you." He leans back in his chair. "I need to know." "I know." "Then help me understand." His voice finally breaks. "Because from where I'm standing, this looks like a forty-three-year-old man falling in love with my daughter."

“Don’t stop, Daddy.” I whimpered, the name a blasphemy on my lips. I felt myself get impossibly wetter, the slickness coating my fingers, a response to calling my father-in-law “Daddy” that Paul’s name had never once elicited. I kept rubbing my aching, filthy clit with my fingers, moaning the word into the steamy air, just like I always did when my husband’s gentle snores filled the darkness of our bedroom. Dominic Matthews. My fucking father-in-law was the only man whose name could make my cunt clench with a desperate, needy spasm. He was the only one who could make me feel this alive, even if it was only in the twisted, secret theatre of my own mind.

He let go of her hair and walked around her, circling her like a predator examining a trapped animal. "I've been in London for five years," Julian continued, his voice echoing off the book-lined walls. "I stayed away because I couldn't stand the sight of my father’s greed. But then I get a call. He’s in a coma. And he’s married to a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. A girl from the Vance family—a family of bankrupt liars." He stopped in front of her again. "My father’s lawyers want to throw you out on the street. They want to call the police and have you investigated for elder abuse. For murder."

She pushed them together, "I don't think you can fuck them, father." I pressed a little harder, forcing fabric up into her crease, "No, maybe not. But I can cum all over them." She groaned again. "Do you have an erection, father?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because touching my daughter's soaking wet pussy through her panties and looking at her amazing breasts excites me beyond words." "Show me. I've never seen your hard cock." I flipped the sheet off my body. My cock was so hard, it was nearly purple.

“But don’t you dare come. Not yet.” I wrapped a hand around my shaft, the touch a welcome relief. I stroked myself in time with the thrusts of the dildo, my mind a haze of pleasure and submission. I was on my knees in my stepfather’s kitchen, naked and collared, while he fucked my face with a replica of his own cock and told me to touch myself. It was so depraved, so wrong, and it was the most erotic moment of my life. “Look at me,” he ordered.

“I need your cock, Father. Fill me. Please.” He kissed me again to muffle our sounds, thrusting faster, deeper. His balls slapped against me as he railed me relentlessly. I came again, clenching around his thick shaft, and that pushed him over the edge. With a deep, broken groan, Father Elias buried himself as deep as possible and came hard, flooding my pussy with thick, hot ropes of forbidden cum. So much it leaked out around his cock and ran down my thighs. We stayed locked together, panting. His forehead rested against mine, guilt already creeping back into his eyes.

“Unless you want your husband and all your nice little friends to come upstairs and see what I'm doing to your sweet cunt." This was my husband’s father, Vincent, saying these things to me. My body shivered at his words, but to my shock, it was not in disgust. I felt more horny and more fucking turned on than I had ever been in my life. The thought of my husband Ryan walking in, and catching his father with his fingers buried inside me, was so delicious that it made me buck my hips, pressing harder against his hand. "Oh, you like that, don’t you?," Vincent purred. "You like the idea of your husband catching me finger-fucking you, you dirty little girl.” He chuckled. “Tell me, has my son ever

I prayed it wasn't my father, but my prayers weren't answered as I heard him, his voice now right above me, say, "Shit, this is the first fresh cunt I've had in thirty years." I couldn't believe it! I was getting fucked by my father! I also couldn't believe that even though I was mortified by the reality of it, my cunt was heating up again, the taboo of this act somehow turning me on. My body, acting on its own, began bouncing back to meet the strokes of my father's surprisingly long cock before deep-throating my father-in-law's much smaller cock. Deciding to ignore whose cocks I had in me, I focused on the task at hand, getting them to come.

Every sensible thought immediately abandoned me, leaving behind nothing but silence and the terrifying awareness that I had been staring far longer than I should have. He walked into the bathroom standing right in front of me as he grabbed me harshly, holding me firmly. “Have you been staring at daddy’s cock?” His thick voice filled my head. I shaked my head as fear gripped me and before I could open my mouth he pulled me closer turning me back wards and next thing I felt was his fingers pulling my panties to the side as he slide in one of his fingers tugging my clits softly every path of me lost it.

When the knock came, it was light—teasing, as a hunter with its prey. She opened the door. Victor stood there in black tailored, hair silvered at the edges, eyes unreadable. He looked at her as if she were art—and his property. Ishaundra did not blink. "I'm not her." "No," he said, advancing uninvited. "You're much more deadly. You have her beauty… and your father's fires." The door closed behind him. "My real father," Isla said, "is not you.". Victor laughed. "Ah. You discovered the journal."