:’)

He's been living with you and your mother for 2 years and as time went by it got more difficult to contain yourself around him, especially since he openly flirts with you and you swear that one of these days you're going to jump on his cock the second you find a chance.

One particular day your mother left for the weekend on a business trip. You were more than sure that she'd been cheating on Billy with his best friend, Stu Macher. They've worked together for years and it's so obvious that they've got something going on.

To be completely honest, you wouldn't mind having Stu as your next step father. He's just as hot as Billy and you never miss the way that he checks you out whenever you're around him. Gosh, if you could have both of them at the same time you know you'd cum the second they both lay hands on you.

Being alone with Billy for the weekend was going to be difficult. You haven't hooked up with anyone in so long and touching yourself isn't satisfying anymore. The way he shamelessly walks around shirtless with sweatpants that highlight his cock drives you crazy and you don't know how you'll survive around him.

Because of that you were feeling bold. You wanted to risk it all, and you did.

It was a Saturday morning and you wake up ready to take the day off to relax after a long week. After you brushed your teeth and showered, you went to the kitchen in just a thong, a thin cotton crop and knee high socks. You knew Billy would walk in the kitchen any second after hearing the water turn off in the shower and were ready to pounce at any moment.

"Well good morning to you too." The sound of his deep voice instantly sent shivers down your spine.

Billy was standing against the countertop behind you shamelessly looking at your exposed ass and gorgeous legs. His hair was damp from the shower and slicked back. No shirt on. Grey sweatpants. He was out to hunt and you were his easy prey.

Turning around, you smiled innocently at him and pointed at the stove, "You want pancakes? I'm making myself some."

Billy could see right through you and he wasn't playing your games.

At your question he chuckled and walked towards you. His hands instantly found your waist and his eyes captured yours, "I'm hungry for something else," he said and squeezed your flesh slightly, his eyes lingering on your tits before scanning your face.

He was driving you mad. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip to suppress a pathetic moan that threatened to come out of you.

Billy seemed to notice and smirked at your reaction, "I don't think your mother would like knowing you're walking around the house looking like that while I'm here," he said and it was your turn to chuckle at his nonchalant comment.

"I don't think she'd like to see her husband grab me like he is right now but here we are," you answered and he lost it.

Billy ran his hands down and under your ass cheeks before picking you up. He sat you on the counter and positioned himself between your legs. His large hands rested on your thighs and he occasionally squeezed them.

"Don't use that tone with me," he said half serious and you laughed teasingly as his words.

"Why? Is daddy gonna ground me? Hm?" you teased further and Billy grabbed your face with his right hand under your jaw, making you look into his eyes. You smirked at him and that was enough, the man crashed his lips against yours and kissed you hungrily.

You were desperate. Both of you were. Your hands were tangled in his hair and he was holding you impossibly close to his body. He groped your ass as you rocked against him slowly.

He was hard and needy before, but having you like this was going to make him cum right then and there if he wasn't careful.

Billy slid one of his hands from your ass to your hip, down your inner thigh and finally over your core. He felt the wetness through the fabric of your thong and he gasped at you mockingly, "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked," he said and you whined softly. So desperate to feel him inside you. Your body ached for his cock.

The man couldn't contain himself much longer. He was already pulling your panties to the side and playing with your cunt. Rubbing your sensitive bud in circular motions and running his fingers down to your throbbing hole, dipping them just enough to pleasure you but not enough to satisfy the craving. He was torturing you. Torturing himself.

"Mm... Billy please," you moaned and grabbed his big hand, pushing his fingers all the way inside you and whining at the feeling of finally being filled up. It still wasn't enough but fuck did it feel amazing when he started to fuck you with his fingers.

You throbbed around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good... I bet you'll feel better around my dick," he whispered in your ear as you fucked yourself with his fingers.

You grabbed his cock and felt how big he is. Gosh you were so right when you imagined him as you rode your dildo in your room alone at night.

"Mmphh... Please fuck me," you begged and Billy pulled his fingers out of your cunt, sucking on them teasingly and moaning at your taste.

He pulled you towards him by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. He held your legs around his middle and carried you to his and your mother's bedroom.

After he released you, you crawled on the bed and positioned yourself on the edge on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your behind. You slowly removed your thong for him and revealed your glistening cunt.

Billy groaned at the sight and pulled his sweatpants down just enough to release his throbbing cock. He wanted to eat you up and taste your whole body but right then he couldn't handle the sight of your waiting hole. He'd been wanting to bury himself inside you for so long, and when he finally did you both moaned at the same time.

He didn't bother to wear protection and you honestly didn't give a fuck at that point. You didn't care if your stepfather knocked you up, as fucked up as it sounds.

"Ahh fuck... Harder Daddy, harder!" You nearly screamed, and to that he complied.

Billy grabbed your hips harshly and pounded you hard enough that you felt his cock all the way up your stomach. He pressed your head against the mattress, your back arched perfectly for him and the sight of your ass cheeks bouncing against him was nearly enough to make him cum inside you, but he was smarter than that of course.

"Getting fucked by your stepfather, who does that?" He shamed you and it made you throb around him. You were nearly going to cum just by hearing his words, it was a chase for release between the two of you.

After a few more thrusts the knot inside you finally broke as his tip brushed against your gspot. You came around him and screamed at the feeling of the intense waves that were coursing through your body. You had one, two, three mini orgasms after the big O and fuck you needed more.

Billy nearly bust his load inside your sweet pussy, but he managed to pull out and cum all over your back. He took a mental picture at how good your body looked covered in his seed.

"I'll clean up the mess for you," he whispered teasingly before giving you a lingering kiss.

As he walked into the bathroom you heard the front door open. Your mom and Stus voice echoed in the living room.

Fuck.

"I'll take care of it..."

•

I know I know, we hate cliffhangers but I love teasing y'all :p ;)

He’s a spurter, releasing in thick, strong pulses that hit deep and leave a warmth that lingers. His grip tightens—whether it’s his hands around your waist, one wrapped in your hair, or fingers digging into your thighs as he keeps you in place. If he’s really lost in the moment, he’ll let out a quiet “Fuck—”under his breath, voice husky and slightly shaky.

If you’re riding him, he’ll pull you down flush against his chest at the last second, holding you still as he empties himself inside. He likes to feel every second of it, dragging it out by rolling his hips, making sure nothing goes to waste. Even after he cums, he doesn’t let go immediately—his hands linger, his breathing heavy as he presses lazy, possessive kisses against your skin, still reveling in the aftershocks.

Caleb is a slow builder when it comes to orgasm. He holds back, savoring every second, his breath growing more ragged as he gets closer. When he finally lets go, it’s a long, shuddering release, his body trembling slightly as he pulses inside you. His cum doesn’t spurt out in thick shots—it seeps out in warm, steady waves, spilling deep and coating every inch. It’s messy, unhurried, and almost overwhelming.

His hands aren’t gripping tight like Sylus—Caleb’s more about holding you firm yet gentle, big hands resting heavy on your hips or sliding up your back to pull you close against his chest. If he’s behind you, his fingers will dig into your waist, guiding you slowly through the aftershocks as he catches his breath.

He’s not loud, but you’ll hear him—a sharp inhale, a low groan that vibrates against your skin, maybe even a whispered “That’s it, pipsqueak…” if he’s feeling particularly rough. And he doesn’t pull out immediately—he likes the feeling of being buried inside you, soaking in the heat and wetness, his lips brushing against your neck as he rides out the last waves of pleasure with slow, lazy rolls of his hips.

Xavier’s orgasm hits him like a slow-burning fire, one that builds into a sharp, almost unbearable peak before he goes still for a second—then completely unravels. His release isn’t about spurts or streams—it’s a deep, throbbing pulse, a thick warmth that just keeps flowing out of him, filling you up in heavy waves that seem to last longer than they should. You can feel every tight clench of his abs, every twitch of his cock inside you as he gives in completely.

In doggy style, he loses himself in the control, gripping your hair at the base of your skull and pulling just hard enough to arch your back perfectly for him. The moment he cums, he yanks you up onto your knees, keeping his chest flush against your back while his free hand locks onto your hip, forcing you still as he buries himself deep and stays there, making sure you take every last drop. His breathing is ragged against your ear, a rough growl of your name slipping past his lips, low and strained, like he’s fighting the urge to keep fucking into you through the aftershocks.

Even when he’s finished, he doesn’t let go right away. His hand in your hair loosens, fingers slipping down to cup your throat, thumb stroking your jaw as he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh. And if you so much as try to move before he’s ready? His grip tightens again—a silent demand to stay right where you are.

Zayne’s orgasm is a slow, aching surrender—he tries to hold back, tries to draw it out, but when it hits, it’s unshakable. His release isn’t sharp or sudden; it’s a deep, rolling pleasure that spreads through his body like a slow wave. His cum seeps out thick and heavy, pouring into you in lazy, unhurried pulses that leave a deep warmth behind. He doesn’t tense up completely—instead, his muscles shudder subtly, his breath hitching as he lets out a quiet, gritted groan that melts into a low chuckle.

With you on your knees, ass up, he runs a warm palm over your skin, fingers squeezing possessively before he delivers a slow, deliberate slap to your ass—not rough, but firm enough to make you jolt slightly beneath him. Again. And again. Each time, his touch lingers, soothing over the heat his hand left behind, his other hand pressing into the dip of your lower back to keep you exactly where he wants you.

When he finally cums, his grip tightens just enough to hold you steady, his hips pushing forward in one last deep roll as he sinks inside you to the hilt. A deep, satisfied “Fuck… that’s my girl.” escapes him as he rests his forehead against your spine, catching his breath. His hands stay on you, tracing your curves, squeezing your hips, his fingers drifting lazily over your skin. And before he even thinks about pulling out, you’ll feel one last, lingering smack against your ass, paired with a smug little hum—as if he’s already thinking about the next time.

Rafayel tries to hold back, tries to keep his composure, but the moment he gets too close, his body betrays him. His breathing gets uneven, his thighs tense beneath your touch, and his hands clutch at whatever they can find—your hips, the sheets, his own wrists if you’ve pinned them down. His orgasm isn’t sharp or explosive; it’s messy, drawn out, overwhelming. His cock twitches and throbs, spilling out in slow, leaking pulses that leave him trembling beneath you. He gasps, eyes fluttering shut, a soft whimper slipping from his lips as his body completely melts into your touch.

The moment your teeth sink into his shoulder, his whole body jerks beneath you, a strangled sound escaping his throat as his head tilts back. Too much. Too good. His fingers dig into your skin, desperate for something to ground himself with, but the pain mixed with pleasure only makes him unravel faster. His chest heaves, muscles tensing, before he finally slumps back, completely spent, completely at your mercy.

Even after he’s finished, his body still twitches with aftershocks, his cock giving one last weak throb as he lets out a breathless, needy whine. His hands tremble slightly when they reach for you, still craving your warmth, still needing to be held, to be reassured. If you press another bite into his skin—softer this time—he’ll shiver, let out a breathy little “Please…” before burying his face in your neck, too dazed to do anything but let you have your way with him all over again.