Chapter 2 #3
She was still soaked from the first time, still stretched and slippery with my cum, and the wet heat that closed around me dragged a low groan out of my chest. She moaned too, the sound muffled against the cushion as I bottomed out.
I did not start slow this time. I fucked her hard and deep from the very first stroke, the couch creaking under us, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the quiet cabin.
My hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks.
She pushed back to meet every thrust, her ass bouncing against me, her pussy making filthy wet sounds every time I drove in to the hilt.
I watched my cock disappear into her over and over, coated in the mix of her arousal and my earlier release.
The visual alone was almost enough to make me come again.
I leaned forward, covering her back with my chest, and reached around to find her clit.
She cried out when I started rubbing tight circles over the swollen bud while I kept thrusting.
Her walls fluttered around me. I could feel how close she already was.
“Come again,” I growled against her ear.
“I want to feel it.” She did. Her whole body tightened and then shook as she came hard around my cock, a broken moan spilling out of her.
The way her pussy clamped down pulled me right to the edge, but I forced myself to hold back. I wanted more.
I pulled out while she was still trembling, turned her over onto her back, and dragged her down so her ass rested on the edge of the couch.
I dropped to my knees on the rug between her spread legs and pushed back inside her before she could catch her breath.
The new angle let me go even deeper. I hooked her legs over my arms and fucked her hard, watching her breasts bounce with every thrust, watching the dazed pleasure on her face.
She reached down and spread herself open with her fingers so I could see every inch of my cock stretching her.
The sight made something primitive and hungry rise in my chest. I leaned down and kissed her roughly, swallowing her moans while I kept driving into her.
One of her hands slid between us and rubbed her clit in time with my thrusts.
She came again within minutes, her back arching off the couch, her cunt squeezing me in tight, rhythmic pulses. I still did not let myself follow.
I pulled out, breathing hard, and sat back on my heels.
She lay sprawled on the couch, legs open, pussy glistening and slightly swollen, a fresh mix of her wetness and my earlier cum leaking from her.
I stared for a long moment, memorizing the way she looked freshly fucked and still hungry for more.
Then I stood, scooped her up, and lowered us both to the thick rug in front of the fireplace.
The embers still gave off enough heat to warm our bare skin.
I laid her on her back and settled between her thighs again.
This time I entered her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face as she took me.
Her eyes fluttered shut and a soft, needy sound left her throat when I finally bottomed out.
I stayed deep and rolled my hips in a steady, grinding rhythm that kept constant pressure on her clit.
She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me closer, her nails digging into my shoulders.
We moved together like that for a long time, slower than before but no less intense.
Every time I pushed in I felt the wet heat of her, the way her body opened for me, the soft flutter of her walls trying to keep me inside.
I kissed her neck, her jaw, the corner of her mouth.
She turned her head and caught my lips in a deep, open kiss that tasted like shared breath and lingering wine.
The climax built low and heavy in my gut.
I could feel hers rising too in the way her thighs started to tremble and her breathing turned into short, broken gasps.
I slipped a hand between us and rubbed her clit with firm, steady strokes.
She came with a long, shaking moan, her pussy pulsing hard around my cock.
The sensation dragged me over the edge with her.
I buried myself as deep as I could and came hard, flooding her with another thick load while her body milked every drop.
We stayed locked together afterward, my cock still twitching inside her, her legs still wrapped around me.
The only sounds were our rough breathing and the occasional soft pop of the dying fire.
Eventually I softened enough to slip free.
A slow trickle of cum followed, running down between her cheeks and onto the rug.
I rolled onto my side and pulled her with me so we faced each other on the floor.
Her skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat.
I brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
The reality of what we had just done settled over both of us in the quiet.
She was my stepdaughter. I had just fucked her twice on the couch and the floor of the cabin that belonged to me and my wife.
The wrongness of it sat right beside the deep, satisfied ache in my body.
She looked at me with the same awareness in her eyes.
Neither of us spoke for a long moment. Then she reached down and wrapped her fingers loosely around my sticky, half-hard cock, stroking slowly.
“We should stop,” she whispered, even as her hand kept moving.
“I know,” I answered, my voice low. But I did not pull away, and neither did she.
Her hand continued its lazy strokes, and my cock began to thicken again under her touch.
The second round had ended, but the need between us had not.
We both knew it. And neither of us was ready to pretend otherwise.