I Drained My Stepdad #2
I looked down. She was right. The comforter fabric tented at his waist, the outline unmistakable—the length of him, the thickness pressing against the cotton.
My cunt clenched. I felt the wetness let go inside me, sudden and warm, soaking through my underwear in a rush that made my thighs press together.
Carlton’s eyes found mine.
“Sienna. Look at me. Is this what you want?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to know what wanting was. I just didn’t have the words until Harper gave them to me.”
He looked at Harper.
“And you?”
“I love you, Dad. Not just as a daughter. I’m a little further on than Sienna—babies.”
“I don’t—I haven’t—”
“Because you were busy raising us. Time we repaid you with children of your own.”
Something shifted in his face. The resistance didn’t collapse—it set down. Carefully. The way you set down something heavy you’ve been carrying for a long time, and your arms are shaking, and someone finally says you can put it down now.
“Come here.”
Harper moved first. She always moved first.
She crossed to the bed, gripped the comforter, and pulled it down past his waist, past his thighs, past his knees, and dropped it on the floor.
His cock stood against his stomach—thick, black, the head flushed almost purple, the veins raised along the shaft and pulsing visibly.
A bead of precum sat in the slit, catching the morning light from the window.
I stared. I couldn’t help it. The glimpses I’d caught of my father’s cock before—soft in the hallway, half-hard through sweatpants—hadn’t prepared me for this. For the weight of it. The width. The way it curved slightly toward his belly and twitched when the air hit it.
Harper climbed onto the bed. She knelt beside his hip, wrapped her fingers around the base, and stroked upward—slow, firm, her thumb sweeping over the head and spreading the precum down the shaft until it glistened. Carlton’s breath left him in a rush.
“Harper—”
“Shh, Dad. Please let me suck your cock and get you ready for her.”
She lowered her mouth.
Her lips closed around the head, and I saw them stretch—thin, pink, whitening at the corners as they accommodated Dad’s width.
She sucked, hollowing her cheeks, and the wet sound filled the bedroom.
Her hand kept stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach, twisting gently at the base, and Carlton’s hips lifted off the mattress.
His hand found the back of her head. Not pushing. Holding. The same hand that braided our hair for school every morning until we learned to do it ourselves.
Harper pulled her lips off his cock. A string of spit connected her lower lip to the head of his cock, stretched, broke. She looked at me, her mouth wet, her eyes steady.
“Undress, Sienna. Come to us and fuck our Daddy.”
My hands shook. I pulled the t-shirt over my head and stood in my underwear—plain white cotton, the kind he bought in packs of six from Target because he never thought to buy us anything else. The wet stain at the crotch was visible. Dark. Obvious.
He saw it.
I pushed them down and stepped out of them. Naked. In front of my father.
Carlton looked at me. His eyes traveled from my face to my breasts—small, firm, the nipples hard and dark—to the strip of hair between my thighs, trimmed but not shaved.
His cock pulsed in Harper’s grip. She squeezed the base, and a fresh bead of precum rose from the slit and ran down over her knuckles.
My sister sucked it off his cock, then smiled at me.
Dad smiled too.
“You’re beautiful, Sienna.”
That broke something open in my chest.
I climbed onto the bed. Harper guided me—her free hand on my hip, positioning me, turning me until I straddled Carlton’s waist with my knees on either side of him. His cock pressed against my ass, hot and slick with Harper’s spit, and I felt the length of it against my skin, and my cunt throbbed.
“Lift up, sis. Straddle him. I’ll make sure he slides inside you.”
I lifted onto my knees. Harper released his shaft, let it stand upright between us, and wrapped her hand around the base again—steadying it, angling it, pointing the head at my throbbing, wet entrance.
I looked down. Dad’s cock was between my thighs. The head wide and black and wet, pressing against my lips, parting them, the heat of him against the heat of me.
“Sienna.”
I looked up. Carlton’s eyes.
“Go slow, baby. Take what you can.”
“I want to fuck you so badly, Daddy.”
“I want you too.”
I sank down on my dad’s long, thick cock.
The head spread me open, my swollen lips parting more easily than I’d expected. The rim dragged against the inside of them as they stretched around him—slow, thick, a burn that radiated outward from my entrance and sank into a fullness I’d never felt with one finger.
My breath stalled in my chest. My thighs shook. I took an inch and stopped, my body gripping my father’s cock, the walls of my cunt clenching around the intrusion and holding.
“Breathe, Sienna.”
“It’s so fucking big.”
“Milk him when he’s balls deep.”
“It feels—” I looked at my dad. “God, I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too.”
Harper was behind me now. Her chest warm against my back, her chin on my shoulder, her hands on my hips. Steadying me.
“Take all of him. Break yourself in on him.”
I breathed. I sank lower on his cock. Another inch.
The stretch doubled—his shaft wider than his head, the ridged skin dragging against nerve endings I didn’t know I had.
I felt every vein. I felt the pulse of his heartbeat through the shaft, thumping against my walls, and my cunt answered with a clench that made us both gasp.
Then the resistance came. A point inside me where my body held—tight, thin, a membrane that had been waiting for this moment since the day it formed. I pressed down and felt it stretch, felt the burn concentrate into a single sharp line of pain.
“It’s going to hurt for a second, Sienna.”
“I know.”
I bore down. It tore. A clean, bright sting that flared and spread and then—settled. The pain didn’t vanish. It folded into the stretch, became part of it, and something warm ran down his shaft that wasn’t arousal. I felt it go. The last thing my body had been keeping from him.
Carlton’s hands found my thighs. His thumbs stroked small circles against my skin.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, Daddy. Don’t move. Just—let me feel you inside me.”
“I didn’t ask—”
“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me please.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not sliding off your cock until I have every drop.”
I stayed still. Full of my dad’s cock. The sting fading into a deep, heavy ache that my cunt was already converting into something else—something that pulsed and wanted and pulled him deeper.
“That’s it. Slowly. Take your time.”
Harper’s hands guided my hips down. Patient. Careful. My sister lowering me onto our father’s black cock with the same steady hands that braided my hair when I couldn’t reach the back—testing, adjusting, making sure I could take what she already knew I wanted.
I took him to the hilt and felt it all.
His pelvis pressed flush against mine. The head of his cock nudged something deep inside me—not pain, pressure, a fullness that reached into my stomach and sat there, heavy and warm and undeniable.
My cunt was stretched around the thickest part of my father’s cock, my lips taut and flushed, the wet seal of my entrance gripping his root.
Carlton was inside me. Every inch. And my body was holding him like it had been waiting for exactly this.
“Daddy.”
“I’m here, baby.”
“You’re so fucking deep inside me.”
“I know. You okay?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“You’re very tight. You’ve been a very good girl.”
“That’s how you raised us.”
Harper’s hands tightened on my hips. She lifted me—slowly, my cunt dragging up Daddy’s shaft, the friction sending sparks through my pelvis—and then Carlton pressed me back down. Up and down. They worked together. Setting the rhythm. Fucking me. Teaching me.
I found it.