Chapter 117 Stepfather, Please Ruin My Pussy (4)

Chapter 117 Stepfather, Please Ruin My Pussy (4)
~MIA~

“Have you lost your mind, Mia?” Chase choked out.

He pushed me back like my touch repulsed him.

Like I burned him.

Then he stared at me—not with anger, but with a look I could recognize from miles away.

Lust.

And it pulled a slow smirk onto my lips.

“I know you want this,” I said. “Same as I do.”

I held his gaze, refusing to look away.

“So just… fuck me. It’s not a big deal.”

He shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

He stumbled back a step, then another, putting a lot of distance between us so quickly I was sure it made his head spin.

I stepped toward him, not backing away—definitely not now.

I had to have him today.

“Stop this, Mia!” His hands came up like he was warding me off. “What you’re doing, what you’re saying… it doesn’t make any sense.”

His eyes searched my face, and his expression shifted. “Are you on drugs or something?”

The words hit me like a slap.

My eyebrows furrowed.

Was he seriously asking me that right now?

I moved toward him.

He backed away quickly, his feet tangling as he hit the chair behind him and dropped into it.

His arms flailed for a moment before he caught himself, and I was on him before he could stand.

My knees came down on either side of his thighs as I settled into his lap.

“Get off me,” he said, hands gripping my hips, trying to push me away.

“No,” I pressed down harder.

Even through the thick fabric of his pants, I could feel the hard ridge of his cock against my pussy.

Slowly, I rolled my hips against him.

The friction sent a shock through me.

My head tipped back, breath catching as a moan ripped from my throat before I could stop it.

I did it again, grinding down on him, feeling the thick length of his cock through his pants.

“Mia…” His voice was strained.

His hands tightened on my hips, but he didn't push me away.

I kept moving.

My hips rolled in slow circles, dragging my clit against the fabric, against the shape of him beneath me.

My breathing turned ragged.

Chase stared at me like I was crazy.

But I didn't care.

And I definitely didn’t stop.

I ground down harder, my thighs gripping his, my hands moving to his shoulders to steady myself.

The friction built, hot and insistent, and I could feel my pussy getting wetter through the thin scrap of my G-string.

His hands moved from my hips to my arms. He gripped my biceps, holding me still.

“Stop. You should stop,” he gritted.

“No.” I looked down at him, my chest heaving. “I know you want this. Just stop denying it.”

His jaw tightened.

I leaned in closer, my face inches from his. "You think I don't notice how you look at my big titties every chance you get?"

"I don't."

"You do." I pressed my chest forward. "Don't lie to me, Chase."

I took his hands from my arms.

His fingers were stiff, resisting, but I pulled them up anyway.

I pressed his palms against my breasts through the bra, the netting rough between his skin and mine.

Holding them there, I let him feel my breast in his hands.

“I know you love my big titties,” I said, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

I moved up and ground down on his cock harder.

The pressure hit exactly where I needed it, and a gasp slipped from my lips.

He groaned—low, deep, the sound rising from his chest—and his hips jerked up against mine before he could stop himself.

“Stop,” he breathed.

I ignored him.

I kept guiding his hands over my breasts, showing him how to squeeze, how to hold.

My head tilted back again, my hair brushing against my shoulders.

“Imagine your cock in between my big titties,” I murmured.

Chase breath caught.

“It's not right.” His voice cracked. “You are my daughter. I am married to your mom.’

“Shhh,” I pressed my finger against his lips.

They were warm, soft, still slightly parted from the last word.

“You're not really my real father,” I murmured, leaning closer until my lips brushed his ear. “And besides… Mom won’t find out.”

My voice dropped into a teasing tone. “We can just have some fun.”

Slowly, I roll my hips again. “I can feel how pent up your cock is.”

I ran my tongue along his ear, the shell of it and the ridge.

He shuddered beneath me, his whole body going taut, his hands still pressed against my breasts.

I pulled back just enough to look at his face.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“Tell me…” I murmured, letting my voice drop, low and sweet. "Don't you want to have a taste of my tight, wet pussy?"

He didn't say anything.

I watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

His hands were still on my breasts, still gripping, still holding.

He didn't push me away.

I reached behind my back, fingers finding the clasp of my bra.

One by one, I unhooked it, and the fabric loosened.

I slid my bra off my shoulders.

My breasts came into the open, heavy and bare, my nipples hard and erect in the morning light.

His eyes went wide and he pulled his hands away from my breasts.

His gaze dropped instantly, and his breathing shifted—faster now—as he stared at my big breasts.

"Like what you see?" I asked.

He nodded once.

I cupped my breasts in my hands, lifting them, pressing them together.

Leaning forward, I moved them closer to his mouth. "Why don't you have a taste?"

He stared at me, his gaze flicking from my breasts to my face and back again.

I watched something shift behind his eyes.

He was struggling inside, but he shouldn’t have been.

There was no need for it.

He could have his way with me however he liked.

His jaw worked silently as his hands curled into fists at his sides, then slowly uncurled.

His breathing came in shallow, uneven pulls.

A long moment passed.

“Are you sure?” he said finally.

I nodded.

He swallowed, his gaze dropping to my breasts again, lingering a little too long.

“Can I really?”

His voice broke on the last word, a sharp gulp catching in his throat as his gaze stayed fixed on me.

I saw him surrender as his shoulders slowly dropped and all the tension drained out of him at once.

“Yes, Daddy.”

His mouth was on my breast before I had finished speaking.

He latched onto my nipple like he couldn’t get enough, he sucked hard and deep.

My back arched instantly, my hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as I held him there.

He pulled back just enough to twirl his tongue around my nipple, slow circles that made my thighs clench around his hips.

His hand came up, squeezing my other breast tight, his fingers kneading the flesh like he was trying to make up for every second he’d held back.

“Fuck!” The word tore out of me. 

He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same slow, deliberate attention.

His tongue traced over my nipple, his lips drawing it in gently, while his fingers worked the other side, rolling and pressing it in time with his mouth.

“Yummy,” he said against my nipple.

The word vibrated through me, sending a shiver down my spine, and I felt it between my legs, a pulse of wet heat.

He stayed on my nipple for a long time, alternating between the two without ever fully breaking away, his mouth persistent and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

My hips moved against him on their own, small, involuntary shifts that I couldn’t quite control, a restless ache building low in my body.

Finally, he pulled back.

His lips were slick, his breathing uneven, his eyes darker than before.

I didn’t hesitate.

I reached up, cupped his face in my hands, and pulled him into a kiss.

He kissed me back immediately, his mouth meeting mine with urgency, the kiss deepening until it felt like there was no space left between us.

His hands slid to my waist and pulled me closer, anchoring me there as the world narrowed to just that moment.

When I finally pulled back, a thin thread of saliva stretched between us before breaking.

I moved off his lap and lowered myself to the floor, my knees meeting the rug with a soft thud.

The net socks scratched against the rough texture as I settled, and I looked up at him from below, breathing uneven, my eyes locked on his.

He stared down at me, chest rising and falling quickly, lips slightly parted.

My hands moved to his belt. I unbuckled it, the metal clinking softly, and eased it open.

I worked the button of his pants, popped it through the hole, and I dragged the zipper down slowly.

I reached inside and felt his big cock inside.

With a wide smile on my lips, I brought it out and his cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head flushed dark red.

Wrapping my fingers around the base, I felt the weight of his cock resting heavily in my palm.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the head, giving it a soft, fleeting kiss.

His breath hitched sharply.

I held his gaze as I slowly licked his cock from base to tip, tracing a deliberate path along his thick length with my tongue in a slow, teasing motion.

His eyes stayed on me the whole time.

I pulled back and cupped my breasts in my hands, pressing them together to create a little space between them.

He watched me closely.

His hand came down, wrapping around his cock, and he rubbed the head against my breasts.

Then he leaned in and kissed me again, hot, urgent, pulling me right back into him.

He pulled away from the kiss and he thrust forward.

His cock slid between my breasts, and I pressed them tighter around him, looking up at him as his cock head pushed deeper into the space I’d made.

“Yes.” My voice came out breathless. “Fuck my breasts hard.”