Chapter 135 STEPMOM wants my cock 3
Dear Diary,
It is Day Two. My father has been gone for less than twenty-four hours, and this house already feels like a den of sin. I woke up today thinking I could play it cool. I thought I could just be the "man of the house" and keep my distance.
I was wrong.
Lizzy isn’t just a temptation anymore. She is a storm, and she is determined to pull me into the center of it. I saw things this morning that I can’t unsee. I heard sounds that are still ringing in my ears. The air in this mansion is thick, smelling like sweat and expensive perfume.
I’m trying to hold on to my last thread of respect for my father, but it’s hard when the woman he calls his "baby" is actively hunting me. I’m a man. I have blood in my veins, and right now, that blood is boiling.
I woke up to a sound that wasn't an alarm. It was a rhythmic, heavy thudding, followed by a high-pitched, breathless shriek.
"Oh! Oh, yes! Right there! Don't stop!"
I knew that voice. It was Lizzy. I checked my watch—8:30 AM. My father hadn't even been gone a full day. I rolled out of bed, my heart already hammering against my ribs. I threw on a pair of loose gym shorts and headed downstairs, thinking I’d grab some coffee and ignore the noise.
But as I reached the kitchen door, I froze.
The breakfast table—the one where we usually sit for formal dinners—was being used for something else. Lizzy was bent over the edge of the wood. Her silk robe was tossed on a chair. She was completely naked, her hands gripping the corners of the table so hard her knuckles were white.
Behind her was a man I didn't recognize. He was tall, muscular, and he was ramming into her with a raw, savage energy.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The sound of their bodies colliding was loud in the empty house. Lizzy’s head was tossed back, her blonde hair messy and flying everywhere. Every time he hit her, she let out a loud, wet moan that turned into a scream.
"AHHH! YES! MORE!"
I stood in the shadows of the hallway, my breath hitching. I felt a wave of heat wash over me. It was different from watching her with my father. With my father, it felt like a chore, something they did because they were married. But seeing her with this stranger? Seeing her get wrecked on the kitchen table like she was nothing? It was visceral. It was dirty.
I watched the way her ass cheeks shook with every impact. I watched the way the man’s hands left red marks on her hips. I felt my own cock slam against the fabric of my shorts, becoming rock-hard in seconds. I wanted to stay. I wanted to walk in there and take over.
Instead, I turned around and ran back upstairs. I slammed my bedroom door and sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. I could still hear her. Even through the walls, her screams echoed, rising to a peak before finally dying out into heavy, exhausted panting.
Two hours later, there was a soft, rhythmic knock on my door.
"ShaQuan? I brought you some breakfast." The sweet lovely voice called.
I opened the door. Lizzy was standing there, looking fresh and glowing. She had showered and was wearing a simple, tight sundress that left nothing to the imagination. She held a tray with eggs, bacon, and fresh juice.
"I saw you on the stairs earlier," she said with a playful glint in her eyes. "I knew you didn't get to eat because I was... busy."
I took the tray from her, my hands brushing hers. Her skin was soft, but my touch was cold.
"Is this how you do it, Lizzy?" I asked, my voice rasping. "My father hasn't even been gone for twenty-four hours. You already have another man in the house, fucking you on the kitchen table?"
Lizzy didn't look ashamed. She just laughed—a light, sound. "Your father? ShaQuan, don't be so naive. Your father has probably fucked four people since he boarded that private jet."
"What are you talking about?"
"Ok, let's count. Based on the video, Two air hostesses on the flight," she said, ticking them off on her fingers. "A woman he met at the airport lounge. And I’m sure he’s currently busy with the receptionist at his hotel.” She smiled. “I’m the reserved one in this marriage, believe me."
I went quiet. I knew my father wasn't a saint, but hearing it put that way made my stomach flip.
"Besides," Lizzy said, stepping closer, "if you would just fuck me yourself, I wouldn't have to bring in strangers. But you don't. You choose to fuck those random girls you bring home instead of making your stepmom feel good."
"Stepmom Lizzy," I said, shaking my head. "It’s weird. You know it is."
She took another step forward, entering my personal space. I could smell the fresh soap on her skin. "Weird is sweet, ShaQuan."
"It’s forbidden," I countered. "Not just weird. It’s a line you don't cross."
"Forbidden is the vibe," she whispered. Her hand reached out, her fingers slowly roaming over my chest, tracing the muscles. "It has to be forbidden for it to feel this good. Think about it."
She leaned in, her lips almost touching my ear. "Imagine me, your stepmom, on a FaceTime call with your father. He’s watching the screen. He knows someone is fucking me from behind. He sees the cock going in and out, making me scream. But he doesn't know it’s you. He doesn't know it’s ShaQuan making his wife feel like a queen."
My heart stopped. The image she painted was so dark, so twisted, and so incredibly hot. I felt my pulse thundering in my throat.
"He would feel a thrill," she continued, her voice dropping to a husky purr. "A sweet, dirty thrill."
Her hand moved lower. It slid over the waistband of my shorts and gripped my cock. I was already a statue, hard and throbbing. I let out a low groan as her fingers squeezed me.
"You're hard. You can fuck me now," she said. She turned around and gripped the edge of my desk, arching her back and pushing her ass toward me. "Here. Bent over. Whenever you want it."
I looked at her. I looked at the way her dress clung to her curves. I wanted to flip that fabric up and sink into her. But my last thread of resistance held on. I stepped back, pulling her hand away from me.
"I’m a human, Lizzy," I said, trying to steady my breathing. "I’m supposed to be hard when all those dirty things come out of your mouth. It’s a biological reaction. It doesn't mean I want to fuck you."
I pointed toward the door. "Now please leave. I need to eat. You and your man-whore kept me from my breakfast long enough.”
Lizzy didn't look angry. She didn't pressure me further. She just stood up straight, smoothed her dress, and gave me a knowing smile.
"You will fuck me before your dad returns," she said calmly. "It’s a promise, ShaQuan. You can’t fight this for long."
She smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”
She turned and walked out, her hips swinging with every step. I watched her go, then I looked down at the food on the tray. I wasn't even hungry anymore.
I sat down and opened my diary.
Dear Diary,
She’s a devil.
She knows exactly how to get inside my head. She told me my father is out there sleeping with everyone he sees, and then she offered me the ultimate sin. A FaceTime call? Letting him watch while I take what’s his?
My body is screaming for her. I can still feel the ghost of her hand on me. She’s right about one thing—the forbidden part is what’s making this so intense. I’ve fucked a hundred girls, but none of them made my blood catch fire like Lizzy does just by talking.
She promised I’d break before Day Four. I want to say she’s wrong. I want
to say I’m stronger than that. But as I sit here in this quiet house, I know the truth.
.