Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I don’t need to point that out to her. She’s nearly sitting on my lap, undoing my shirt and instead of moving, instead of telling her to stop, I’m just watching her undoing my buttons, purring, “I’m your daughter.”
“Karen, seriously, I can’t even remember the last time I had sex, and this is…” before I can even finish, she’s put her finger to my lips.
“You know that you want me,” her eyes dart down to my obvious erection. “Besides, Daddy, you’re acting like some kind of monk, when this body is far, far more suited to more than that.”
“What do you know about what a monk’s body looks like?”
She licks her lips and then purrs, “I can tempt any man, monks or priests included, to the dark side, Daddy.” I listen to her and my blood starts to boil and I start to see red.
The demon of lust has possessed my soul. And he’s done it through my stepdaughter.
“No one can say no to me,” Karen says. Then she holds out her hand. I know where we’re going, and I should tell her that we’re going in the wrong direction. But I need something to make me feel better. To take away what I’m feeling right now and somehow Karen’s about to do that, and I don’t feel guilty. No, I just feel horny as she takes me to her room and closes the door.
She starts to slide her yoga pants down her hips, revealing a black thong, and my cock is growing harder by the second.
A memory flashes through my mind: earlier today, out by the pool, Colt’s hands were where mine are about to be right now.
7
Karen
Desire can be a powerful thing. It rises on your mind like morning fog and, before you know it, you’re lost and blind in the bland whiteness of it. No control, no sense of direction.
That’s me right now; I’m adrift in a sea of desire, and all rationality has deserted me. With my fingers on the hem of my pants, I push it down slowly, but I lower them just one inch, enough to flash him a glimpse of my skin. Do you want to know what I’m thinking? It’s simple: I’m not thinking of anything. I’m just like a puppet acting out the commands from some unseen hand.
“Are you just going to stare?” I purr at him, my pants now revealing a faint tan line, as my heart gallops inside my chest. As the words leave my lips, I close the distance between Daniel and I and, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pull him into me. He grins, delight and desire painting his face, and comes willingly. He rests his big hands on my waist and, the moment he leans into me and his lips touch mine, I close my eyes and let go.
“No going back now,” he whispers, and all it takes is one kiss for me to know that this is going to be good. For a man as imposing as him, he’s actually more than a good kisser. I tilt my head to the side, pulling him closer and pressing my mouth harder against his. I part my lips and slip my tongue inside his mouth, a whirlwind of lust dancing inside my head.
I’m kissing my stepfather, this is really happening.
I exhale sharply as, still grabbing me by the waist, he pushes me back and pins me against the bedroom door. His fingers dart to my wrists and he lifts my arms up over my head.
“This is wrong,” he says, his eyes filled with desire. “This is so wrong,” he repeats, and I feel something hardening in his crotch and pushing against my leg. Yes, this is wrong. Very, very wrong… But so are the most delicious things in the world, aren’t they? And it’s this wrongness that makes boiling blood travel through my veins and raises hell between my thighs. My thong is drenched, my juices soaking it in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time… This is raw desire in its purest and most violent form.
“So wrong...” I whisper, throwing his words back at him as a grin of anticipation dawns on my lips.
I throw my head back, baring my neck to him, and he savors my skin with gentle kisses. I pant each time his lips touch me, that gentle fog of desire blanketing my mind. I get out of his hold with cat like movements, freeing my hands and taking them to his shirt, my frantic fingers popping button after button. I untuck his shirt then and, almost with a growl, I press the open palm of my hands on his pectorals, feeling the hard lines of his strong muscles under my fingertips. For a man his age, it’s almost hard to believe the kind of body he has.