روايات وقصص ضمن Please Forgive My Unholy Desire Father

"We are going to buy suits. I can't let my step son disgrace me in public looking like a fucking, cunt." I majestically turned around, leaning my hips back against my table, my heart drumming a frantic jagged rhythm against my ribs. I felt a surge of reckless power. "Why, daddy? Is it too much for you to handle? Does it make it hard for you to play daddy role?" I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You say you hate feminine boys. You call me a freak and worse. But you can't seem to get your hands off me, can you? I felt your hunger. Your burning desire for me."

Frowning, I pulled my phone out to call her and immediately I pressed the phone to my ear, I froze. Her dad had just walked into the living room, shirtless, and holding a glass of wine, and we were both staring at each other in silence. My phone slipped out of my hand at that moment and Stacy answered the call as it fell. “Hey Jenny, what's up?” She chirped excitedly, her voice reverberating through the dead silent living room, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. I was shamelessly staring at her shirtless father and I couldn't even think straight.

“Please… Father… fuck me.” The blasphemy hangs in the air like smoke. He rises. Unbuttons his cassock with shaking hands. It falls open. No undershirt just skin, muscle, old scars, a dark trail of hair leading down. His cock springs free heavy, thick, flushed dark at the tip, already leaking. He grips the base, strokes once, twice. “You want this inside you?” he asks, voice wrecked. “On God’s altar?” “Yes.” “Say it.” “I want your cock inside me, Father. On the altar. While He watches.”

“Damn it… I really want you.” I closed my eyes, the image of his dark gaze filling my mind. I was a sinner, and I was falling for a man who was supposed to be my father-in-law. But in the silence of the bathroom, I knew the truth: I didn't want the son’s ring; I wanted the father’s fire.

He could feel the head pushing out precum already. “Sophia,” he said, voice low and rough. “This is wrong. You need to stop.” “But I can’t,” she whispered. “I want you, Father. I want you so fucking bad. I fantasize about dropping to my knees right here and sucking your cock through this screen. instead of worshipping. I want to choke on it until my throat bulges. I want you to grab my hair and fuck my face until you shoot down my throat. Then I want you to pull me up, bend me over, and ram that priest cock into my dripping hole.”

Her mind went apart with anxiousness enough to break her to pieces and scatter the bits. "You asked for this," he picked her up, forgetting about her wounds. To hell with them. Her legs wrapped his waist in a dangerously tight tangle. "You touched me. You gave me a fuckin' hug, Seraphina. You deserve every evil that comes with it." "I know I do, Father. I do, like madly," Seraphina whispered back when she found her voice. "Make me forget....do whatever you please to my body tonight....." His head went down, going buried between her chest without warning.

His leather shoe came down on my chest as I bit back the pain. He crouched down and looked at me. "You want this back? Sure? Just kneel in front of me, crawl between my legs, then shout loudly that you shouldn't have been a homewrecker." "You—" "What? Don't you want your son back?" He raised the urn as if he were about to smash it onto the ground. The seconds dragged by. My hands trembled as I slowly climbed onto my hands and knees, then crawled between his legs in utter humiliation.

“Let’s remain respectful. Sadie, do you feel any… presence inside you? Voices? Urges you cannot control?” I stepped closer, close enough to catch the clean, masculine scent of him—soap, incense, and something darker underneath. “Only the urge to get properly fucked, Father. Which I handle just fine. Usually.” My voice dropped. “Though I wouldn’t mind some divine assistance right now.” Mom gasped. Dad looked ready to burst a blood vessel. “See, Father? The demon is bold!” Father Francis raised a hand. “Please, wait outside. I’ll speak with Sadie privately and begin the rite.”

“Why?” “You know why.” “I want to hear you say it.” Her breath catches slightly. “This is wrong,” she says. “You’re…….you’re his father.” The word lands heavier than anything else tonight. “And?” “And it’s not something I can just ignore,” she says, her voice tightening. “I’m not that kind of person.” “Neither am I.” But here we are. The silence shifts again. I slow the car again, pulling to the side of the road without really thinking about it.

“What troubles you, my child?” I bit my lip, heart pounding. “It’s me… Sophia. Your stepdaughter.” Silence. Then a sharp intake of breath. “Sophia? What are you doing here at this hour? This is highly inappropriate.” “I can’t stop thinking about you, Father,” I confessed, voice dropping into a filthy whisper. “Every night I touch myself imagining your cock instead of my fingers. I fantasize about you bending me over the altar and fucking me raw while the crucifix watches. I’m so wet right now just telling you… my panties are ruined.”