Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I bury my face in her, tongue sliding between the lips, tasting her fully. She’s drenched already, slick and salty and honeyed. I suck her clit, slow at first, then harder, letting her roll her hips against my mouth. She moans, one hand finding my thigh and clutching tight. Her other hand finds my cock, stroking in time with the movement of my tongue.
“God, yes,” she says, voice breathy and high. “Daddy, eat my pussy. Please, more—”
I lap at her, dragging my tongue from the base to the tip, then fuck her with it, slow and deep, letting her grind down onto me. I slip two fingers inside her, curling them, and she whimpers with need. I talk to her while I eat her out, voice muffled by flesh: “Such a good girl. Such a horny little slut. You like it when Daddy licks your hungry vag, don’t you?”
She moans louder, the sound raw and desperate. Her grip in my hair tightens. “Yes, fuck Daddy, yes. Don’t stop.”
I don’t. I speed up, licking and sucking her clit alternately, fingers stroking inside her, until her thighs begin to shake and she starts to pant, hips rocking uncontrollably.
“Stay with me, baby,” I rasp. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Then I lift my head and lick her asshole with the flat of my tongue. The unexpected feel of a man’s tongue on her dirtiest spot pushes her over the edge. She comes with a cry, legs squeezing my head, pussy spasming around my fingers as she screams.
“Kent!” she shrieks. “Oh god, yes yes yes!”
I don’t stop, kissing and sucking her cunt until she collapses on my chest, breathless and giggling.
I sit back, face slick, and watch as she slides off the table to her knees beside me. She grabs my cock and takes it in her mouth, deep and hungry, sucking like she’s been doing it all her life. She uses both hands—one on the shaft, one cupping my balls—slurping and bobbing, letting spit run down her chin.
The sight of her like this—lips stretched around my cock, blue eyes gazing up at me, mouth full of thick man meat—is almost enough to make me come instantly.
“Fuck, Mary Kate,” I gasp. “You’re so goddamned good at this. Are you sure you weren’t a whore in a previous life?”
She smiles around my dick, then plunges down again, taking me even deeper. She moans, the vibration running up my shaft, and I feel my balls tighten.
“I’m going to come,” I say, voice tight, and she only increases her pace, swallowing me greedily. “Get ready.”
She sucks harder, almost like she’s egging me on. When I do orgasm, I come hard, pulsing in her mouth, blowing like a madman. She holds me in place, drinking every drop, not letting a single spurt of creaminess escape. She milks me, her tongue swirling around the head, sucking until I’m empty.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan, my back arching as my balls pump. “Shit shit shit!”
When the tremors finally die down, Mary Kate pops me out of her mouth and sits back, a long strand of saliva and semen trailing from her lips to the head of my cock. She wipes it with her thumb, then sucks the thumb clean, never breaking eye contact.
For a moment, the room is silent except for our breathing.
But my stepdaughter’s not embarrassed at all. She licks her lips again and stands up, curves gleaming with sweat, hair wild and tangled around her face. There’s no trace of shame or uncertainty. She looks at me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and smiles—a real smile, all satisfaction and pride.
I get up from the table, draw her close, and kiss her—deep, messy, tasting her and me at once. I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“You were incredible, baby. Your cunt and ass were made to get fucked.”
She giggles.
“How can you talk like that, Daddy? You’re so dirty!”
I pull her close into another deep kiss, loving the press of her big breasts against my chest.
“I’m a filthy motherfucker, as you’ll soon find out. But we’ll do something different tomorrow,” I say. “The sauna. I’ll get it ready for us.”
She nods, melts against me, and smiles. “Whatever you want, Daddy. I want to make you happy. My body is here for you to use for your pleasure.”
There’s no need for pretense, no rules, no boundaries. Not anymore because Mary Kate’s mine. This woman belongs to me … and tomorrow, I’m going to claim her for good.
10
ITALIANS DO IT BETTER
MARY KATE
The only thing colder than a Tuesday in February is the third-floor classroom in Arliss Hall, where the Century College Italian Club meets every week at four-thirty sharp. I settle into a creaky folding chair at the back, my butt already numb from the commute across campus, thighs shivering as the draft whips in through the half-cracked window behind me. At the front of the room, the club president is running late—again—so a grad student named Fede is running the slide deck, gesticulating wildly as slides from Rome flicker on the wall. No one is listening. Most of the club, in fact, is eyeing the folding table by the door, where someone’s nonna has supplied a supermarket sheet cake, a plate of cannoli, and a pile of jewel-toned biscotti that look like they could crack a tooth.