His fingers dipped down to my sex and as his lips met with mine he slid them deep into my sex.  I gasped as he fingered me with his rough, calloused hands.  His touch was not gentle, yet the pleasure seemed to outweigh the shooting pain that traced the places he violated.  I felt his tongue slide along my lips, parting them as his tongue pressed into my mouth.

It should have been strange, kissing a man that I had practically seen as a father, but it wasn’t.  In fact, it felt more erotic than I’d expected.  I closed my eyes and twisted my tongue against his, pressing my nipples against his chest.  His breaths were so heavy and labored, as if he were running a marathon.  He was holding back, though it sounded as if he would lose control at any second.

I reached my hands between us and traced my nails along his cock, wrapping my fingers tightly at the head and giving a slow tug.  Luke drove his tongue harder into my mouth, encouraging me.  I slid my fingers along my own wet sex, taking the slick fingers and wrapping them a second time at the head of his stiffness.

“Mm-mmm,” I innocently moaned as I tugged against the rigid hard-on.

Being curvy, I wasn’t used to begin manhandled, but Luke was strong.  His hand wrapped around my lower back and lifted me, meanwhile he kept right on fingering me.  My belly tightened with lust as he carried me, caveman style down the hall and to his bedroom.  I liked the way he handled me, it made me feel small, sexy, vulnerable.

When we got into his room he laid me down softly on my back and hooked his arms through my legs.  His lips met mine as he twisted my body up into a pretzel.  I was flexible, and daddy groaned with pleasure as he felt my body spread wide open for him.   I could feel his hardness pressing at the base of my wetness now.

“Yes,” I breathed, as his cock began its descent.

My tight little pink hole spread wide, struggling to accommodate his shaft.  He was breathing loudly and I was panting as the head finally submerged into my belly.  I knew that was the hard part, but I waited with bated breath for him to sink deeper.

Luke’s hips rocked hard, one powerful, deliberate thrust blasting down into my core.  My breath came out in a whoosh as his weight compressed my hips, belly, and ribs.  He pulled back, my body gripping him like a tight glove.  Every inch of him leaving was torture, but when his hips rocked forward again, pure bliss.

Once I had stopped gasping and whimpering, slow and steady morphed into something much hotter.  His hands gripped at my curves and his hips drilled harder and faster with each passing moment.  My pussy ached and quivered around his shaft and a familiar sensation began to build.  I had never cum during sex.  In fact, I had begun to think it an impossibility.  Yet here was my body, slowly growing desperate.  My hips rocked and grinded against his, searching out the release.  I pant-moaned with every dive of his cock, which was coming now so rapidly that I could feel my tits bouncing rhythmically on my chest.

Holding my breath I swiveled my hips for the last time, bucking hard against him.  Release flooded my body as a heavy contraction pulsed through my core.  Luke held himself hard against me, his body also finding the release he had so desperately been searching for.  The sound of him cumming, a low, long rumbling growl, made my body convulse again, and again.

Spent, Luke rolled beside me on his back, staring up at the ceiling and breathing hard.  I rolled onto my side and slung my leg across his hips, tracing my fingers down the sinews of his muscular chest.  His arm wrapped my shoulders and he drew me in close.  I had been held by him before, but never like this.  It was something I’d never known was missing in my life, but now that I felt it, I didn’t want it to end.  Luke stroked my wild locks back behind my ear, his eyes staring down into mine.

“There’s no way in hell I am letting you stay out late again tonight,” he chuckled.  “But seriously Luliana, I want you here, with me.”

His eyes were so genuine, so kind and warm.  It was all I could do not to melt right then and there.  I smiled and leaned forward kissing him on the mouth.  “I want that too daddy!  Tonight, and forever.”

What My Step-Daddy Deserves

“We are fucking through!” I heard my stepfather’s voice boom, startling me from my slumber.

I looked at the clock, rubbing my eyes; it was after two in the morning.

“We’ve been through for months, Liam!  It shouldn’t be any surprise that I fucked him.  Just sign the goddamn divorce papers,” my mother’s voice shrilled as her footsteps stomped down the hall.

“You want me to sign them? Fine, here’s your goddamn signature! Now get the hell out of my house! Go run to your pathetic, alcoholic loser-of-a-boyfriend. The two of you deserve each other,” Liam’s voice thundered behind her.

I sat up in my bed, pulling my covers up and wrapping my arms around my chest.  ‘Damn it mom,’ I thought, ‘not again.’  I chewed at my thumbnails as the screaming continued.

This wasn’t the first time I had dealt with this.  My mom had run through men, finding the new love-of-her-life every few months, since I was fourteen.  I compared her style of dating to a monkey: swinging from one branch to another, never letting go of the last one until she had a firm grip on the next.

She would probably be in my room any moment now, telling me that I needed to pack my things.  The only problem for her was, I wasn't going anywhere.  This time, I had already decided, was going to be different.  I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I was nineteen-years-old for god sakes; and honestly, I was starting to feel as pathetic as she was.  Even if it meant taking the leap and moving out on my own, it was worth it not to have to put up with any more of her insanity.

I heard the footsteps as they came down the hall and towards my room.  Mom tore my door open, her eyes wild, and with a bag strung over her shoulder.

“Get your things, Lily!  We’re leaving!” she wailed as she tore open my closet and began pulling my clothes off the hangers.”

“Stop it,” I yelled, getting up and forcing myself between her and the rest of my things.  “I’m not coming with you, not this time,” I proclaimed, crossing my arms over my chest with determination.

“What?  You think Liam is going to support your sorry ass?" my mother balked. “Get your shit together.  We're going now!”  She pushed past me and started in on my clothes again.

“No,” I screamed.  “I’m not weak like you, mom. I’ll manage just fine on my own.  I don’t need you, or Liam, or anyone else to take care of me.  I said I am not going, now get the hell out of my closet!” I said harshly.

My mother's eyes predictably welled-up with crocodile tears as her face contorted with anger.  I almost felt bad for what I had just said, but part of me knew she needed to hear it, and the other part of me knew her tears were mostly false anyway; she never much cared for anyone but herself.  Besides, she needed to understand that even her own daughter thought of her as weak.

“Fine.  We’ll see just how well you fare on your own you ungrateful little shit,” she snarled. “We’ll see how fast you come running back to mommy once you get a taste of the real world.”  She turned around and marched out, slamming the door behind her.

My body shivered nervously under my thin silk night shorts and tank top.  I sat back on the edge of the bed and hugged my knees into my chest.  I wanted to be sad, but the tears just wouldn’t come.  My mother had done this too many times for me to feel sympathy; and if anyone deserved to be pitied, it was Liam.

When my mother first met Liam I honestly thought maybe things would finally change.  Liam was good-looking, charming, and filthy, filthy rich.  He was the first man my mother ever dated that I actually approved of, and he honestly seemed to care about her and me.