Daddy's Secret Obsession

JESSY

I burst out of the café, my heart pounding like a war drum, each beat amplifying the sting of betrayal that blazed within me. How could he do this? After all the promises, the sweet nothings whispered in the dark about waiting, about building something real without rushing into the physical.

"I love you for who you are, Jessy," he'd said, his eyes brimming with sincerity-how could I have believed him? But today, over a half-finished latte and a crumbling muffin, he shattered it all. "You don't respond to my touches," he spat, frustration dripping from his voice. "It's like you're some kind of... Mother Virgin Mary. I can't do this anymore." Mother Virgin Mary?! Those words hit me like a slap, reducing me to a cold stereotype. I wasn't unresponsive; I just... didn't feel it. Not with him.

At eighteen, I'd never felt that spark everyone raved about, that electric pull that ignited the skin and stole your breath. Maybe I was broken, or maybe he was just wrong for me. Tears blurred my vision as I rushed down the street, the city lights flickering above like mocking stars. Memories of my life after the accident flooded my mind. My parents-gone in an instant, victims of a tragic car crash that left me and my younger "mom" reeling. Wait, not my younger mom; she was my mom's sister, who stepped in as my guardian and insisted I call her Mom.

Vibrant and full of life, she was only in her late thirties, but we were both shattered. She often spoke of the uncle I'd never met-the one quietly supporting us from the shadows, funding our lives without ever showing his face. "He's family, Jessy," she'd say with a knowing smile. "Rich as sin, but private. One day, you'll meet him." Now, I was the breadwinner, juggling college classes and a part-time job at a bookstore to make ends meet. It wasn't much, but it kept us afloat. Our home-a sprawling mansion on the city's outskirts-was proof of his wealth, with marble floors, soaring ceilings, and rooms echoing with emptiness.

I often pondered about this phantom benefactor. Who was he? Why the secrecy? But tonight, anger and heartbreak drowned out those questions, buried beneath the weight of my ex's cruel words. By the time I reached home, my feet ached, and exhaustion clawed at me. I fumbled with my keys, pushing the heavy oak door open with a creak that seemed deafening in the stillness.

The foyer was dimly lit by a distant lamp, but I didn't bother turning on more lights. I was too drained to climb the grand staircase to my room upstairs. Instead, I headed straight for the cozy sitting area-a crash spot with a plush couch and enough privacy to unwind without bothering Mom.

I closed the door behind me, the latch clicking shut, sealing me in darkness. The room was pitch black, curtains drawn tight against the outside world. I let out a shaky breath, ready to collapse onto the couch and let the tears flow.

But as my eyes adjusted to the shadows, I froze. There, lounging on the couch like he owned the place-which, technically, he might-was a tall, imposing figure. With broad shoulders filling the space, the faint moonlight illuminated him just enough. He was shirtless, clad only in boxer shorts that clung to his powerful thighs.

His chest was sculpted, glistening slightly as if oiled, every muscle a testament to strength. Heat surged through me, an unfamiliar warmth pooling in my core. Desire, raw and insistent, made my pulse race and my skin flush. Who was he? A stranger in my home? My mind screamed danger, but my body... oh, it betrayed me, drawn to the heat radiating from him. "Come," his voice rumbled, deep and commanding, slicing through the silence like a whip.

It wasn't a request; it was an order, sending shivers down my spine. I stood there, frozen in place, caught in a whirlwind of fear and something undeniably thrilling. What was happening to me? He shifted slightly, his eyes glinting in the dark as they locked onto mine. "Come here. What are you waiting for?" My legs moved before my brain could catch up, trembling as I took a hesitant step forward.

The air between us crackled with tension. Up close, his presence was intoxicating-masculine, overwhelming. I paused a few feet away, breathless and uncertain about what to do next. He tilted his head, studying me with a gaze that seemed to strip away my defenses. Then, his expression shifted to one of shock, brows furrowing as if he just realized something. "How can a naive girl like you be into this hookup business?" he said, disbelief lacing his voice, as if my very presence baffled him. I blinked, my confusion deepening. Hookup business? What was he talking about? I'd never done anything like that-never even considered it.

My ex's words echoed in my mind, branding me as unresponsive, frigid. And now this stranger assumed I was here for... what? Some casual encounter? The thought should have repulsed me, but instead, a forbidden thrill coursed through my veins, igniting a blush on my cheeks. "I-I'm not... I don't know what you mean," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. "This is my house. Who are you?" I murmured, confusion flooding my mind. He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent another wave of heat spiraling through me. His eyes roamed over my disheveled hair, tear-streaked face, and the way my sundress clung to my curves from the evening humidity.

"Why did you linger after you lied about taking an Uber? Oh, little girl, you have no idea." He leaned back, muscles flexing under that oiled skin, and before I could process what was happening, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid them down, letting them pool at his feet.

Jessy

My eyes widened in shock as he revealed himself-his cock springing free, thick and hard, veined and pulsing with need. It was massive, intimidating, the head glistening in the dim light. I'd never seen one up close like this, never felt this rush of curiosity mixed with fear.

My mouth went dry, but my body responded in ways I couldn't control: my nipples hardened against my bra, and a slick warmth gathered between my thighs. What was wrong with me? This was insane, dangerous. But I couldn't look away.

"Like what you see, slut?" he growled, his hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, stroking it lazily. The word 'slut' hit me like a jolt-harsh, degrading. I'd never been called that before. It confused me, made my mind whirl with protest. I wasn't a slut; I was Jessy, the good girl, the one who waited, who didn't respond.

But hearing it from his lips, in that commanding tone, ignited something deep inside. A secret part of me enjoyed it, craved the dirtiness, the way it made my pulse race uncontrollably. My breath hitched, and I felt my core clench, aching for something I didn't even understand.

"I... I don't..." I whispered, shaking my head, but my feet didn't move. I was trapped in his gaze, in the raw power he exuded.

He stood up slowly, towering over me, his cock bobbing with the movement. The scent of him-musky, masculine, with a hint of expensive cologne-filled the air, making my head spin. "Don't lie to me, naive little thing. You walked in here, eyes wide and innocent, but I see the hunger in them.

You're dripping for it, aren't you? Come here and do what sluts like you do best." His voice was a low rumble, each word dripping with dominance. He reached out, grabbing my wrist gently but firmly, pulling me closer until I was inches from him.

My hand trembled as he guided it toward his throbbing length. "Hold it," he commanded, his eyes darkening with lust. "Wrap those pretty fingers around my cock and stroke it. Show me how bad you want this hookup."

The word 'slut' echoed in my mind again, confusing me even more. Why did it make my skin tingle? Why was my body betraying me like this, leaning into his touch instead of running away? I hesitated, my fingers brushing against the hot, velvety skin of his shaft. It twitched under my touch, and a low groan escaped his lips.

The sound sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying the ache between my legs. Uncontrollably, I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the girth, the heat. It was so hard, so alive, pulsing in my palm like it had a heartbeat of its own.

"That's it, good girl," he murmured, his free hand tangling in my hair, tilting my head back to look at him. "But don't think that makes you any less of a slut. Naïve on the outside, but inside? You're begging for it." His words should have offended me, should have made me slap him and flee.

Instead, they fueled the fire building inside me. I stroked him tentatively at first, my movements awkward from inexperience, but the way his eyes hooded with pleasure encouraged me. Faster, firmer, my hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the ridges, the slickness from the pre-cum beading at the tip.

He thrust lightly into my grip, his breath ragged. "Fuck, yes. Just like that. Now, get on your knees, slut. I want that innocent mouth on me." The command was rough, his use of 'slut' hitting harder this time, but my body obeyed without thought.

I sank to my knees on the soft carpet, my dress pooling around me, my face level with his cock. Up close, it was even more intimidating-thick veins throbbing, the scent intoxicating. Confusion swirled in my mind: Who was this man? Why was I doing this? But the enjoyment was uncontrollable, a rush of adrenaline and desire I'd never known.

"Open wide," he ordered, his hand guiding the tip to my lips. I parted them hesitantly, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum as he pushed forward. My tongue flicked out instinctively, swirling around the head, and he hissed in approval. "Suck it, you little tease. Show me how a naive slut like you handles a real man."

I took him in deeper, my lips stretching around his girth, the fullness overwhelming but exhilarating. His hand in my hair guided me, setting a rhythm-slow at first, then faster. The word 'slut' kept coming, whispered harshly: "Deeper, slut. Choke on it like the eager whore you are." Each time, it confused me-am I really this? But the confusion melted into pleasure, my body humming with need.

I gagged slightly as he hit the back of my throat, tears pricking my eyes, but I didn't stop. The ache between my thighs grew unbearable, my free hand itching to touch myself, but I focused on him, on the grunts of pleasure he made.

Suddenly, he yanked me back by my hair, pulling me off him with a pop. My lips were swollen, saliva trailing from my mouth to his glistening cock. I gasped, looking up at him in confusion and frustration-why stop now? His eyes burned with dark intensity, a smirk playing on his lips as he tugged harder on my hair, making me arch my back.

"Not so fast, slut. I want to enjoy every part of you." His voice was gravelly, laced with control that made my core throb even more.

He pulled me to my feet roughly, his grip on my hair firm but not painful-just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain through me. "Strip," he commanded, releasing me only to watch as I fumbled with my dress. My hands shook, but I obeyed, letting the fabric slide down my body, exposing my lace bra and panties. His gaze devoured me, making me feel exposed, vulnerable, and inexplicably powerful. "Bra off," he added, his tone brooking no argument.

I unclasped it, letting my breasts spill free. They were full, heavy with arousal, nipples pebbled in the cool air. He groaned appreciatively, stepping closer. "Perfect for this, you little slut." He positioned himself, guiding his cock between my breasts, the hot length nestling in the valley of my cleavage. His hands cupped my breasts from the sides, pressing them together around him, creating a tight, warm channel. The sensation was new, intimate-his skin sliding against mine, slick from my saliva and his pre-cum.

"Hold them like that," he ordered, his voice husky. I pressed my breasts together, trapping him, as he began to thrust slowly. The friction was delicious, each movement sending jolts through my sensitive nipples. He called me 'slut' again, murmuring it like a caress: "Look at you, letting a stranger use your tits like this. Such a needy slut."

The word confused me still, but I enjoyed it uncontrollably, my body arching into the rhythm, my breath coming in pants. His cock slid up and down, the head brushing my chin on each upward thrust, teasing my lips.

"Fuck, yes," he growled, picking up speed. The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin on skin, his grunts mixing with my whimpers. I leaned forward instinctively, my tongue darting out to lick the tip each time it neared my mouth. He noticed, his eyes flashing with approval. "Eager, aren't you? Hold my cock well and aim it in your mouth, slut."

My hands trembled as I released my breasts slightly, one wrapping around the base of his shaft to steady it. I aimed the head toward my parted lips, guiding it in as he thrust forward. It was messy, intense-his cock dipping into my mouth briefly with each movement, my tongue swirling around it before he pulled back to slide between my breasts again.

The combination was overwhelming, the taste of him lingering, the pressure on my chest building the heat in my core. I was soaking wet, my panties clinging to me, but he kept it to just touching, teasing, driving me wild without going further.

He yanked me back again, pulling my hair to tilt my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Back to sucking, slut. Faster this time." His command was sharp, and he guided me down once more, shoving his cock deeper into my mouth.

I sucked eagerly, my head bobbing at a faster rate, taking him as deep as I could. He pulled my hair rhythmically, controlling the pace, making me go harder, faster. Tears streamed down my cheeks from the effort, but the pleasure was intoxicating-his groans, the way he throbbed on my tongue, the degrading words that somehow made me crave more.

"Deeper, you filthy slut," he hissed, thrusting into my mouth. I gagged, but pushed through, my hands on his thighs for balance. The confusion faded into pure, uncontrollable enjoyment, my body alight with need. He swelled, his breaths ragged, and with a final yank on my hair, he pulled out, stroking himself furiously. "Open wide," he ordered, and I did, tongue out as he aimed, hot spurts landing in my mouth, on my lips, dribbling down my chin.

I swallowed what I could, the taste salty and forbidden, my body trembling from the intensity. He collapsed back onto the couch, pulling me against him, his hands roaming my body in lazy touches. "Good little slut," he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, keeping the fire simmering without crossing into more.

Jessy

The knock came sharp and sudden, three hard raps that sliced through the humid haze of the room. My heart jack-hammered against my ribs. I froze on my knees,his cum still glistening on my swollen lips, my eyes wide with the same panic flashing through me.

"Is it Mom?" I whispered to myself, panic surging as I yanked the blanket over my naked skin. The fabric clung to me, damp and warm, a poor shield against whatever storm was about to break.

"I'm coming, girl. Wait for me here," he murmured, his voice low and rough, still thick with lust. He rolled off the bed in one fluid motion, snatching his boxers from the floor. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

He was about six feet tall, every inch of him carved like something out of a fever dream-broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, muscles rippling under golden skin as he pulled the fabric up his powerful thighs.

I'd never believed a man his age could be this hot, this alive with raw, magnetic energy. His dark hair was tousled, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his chest, and when he glanced back at me, those piercing eyes held a promise that made my core throb all over again.

"Yes, Sis Amanda," he called out, his tone shifting to something warm and familial, as if he hadn't just been buried inside me moments ago.

How did he know my mom's name? The thought hit me like a slap, but before I could process it, Mom's voice filtered through the door.

"Is everything fine with you, brother?"

"Jessy!" she called, sharper now. "Jessy, are you in there?"

Huh? This is Jessy? He froze, his back to me, and I saw his lips move in a silent curse. "Fuck," he breathed, so low I almost missed it."I think she's asleep in the other room," he recovered smoothly, stepping toward the door but not opening it fully-just enough to peek out. "I'll let her get to you when she wakes up. Feel at home?"

"Thank you, sis. I saw her and she served me... Hope she wasn't rude to you?"

"Oh, not at all. She's very respectful."

"Okay, I'll get back to you soon. I'm off to the market for some groceries. Take care."

The front door clicked shut moments later, and the house fell into a stunned silence.

He turned slowly, his face pale beneath the stubble, eyes wide with the same horror dawning in my chest. I bolted upright, the blanket slipping, and scrambled off the bed.

"We're good," I snapped, voice rough. "Come back later."

"That was too close," I whispered.

"Get dressed," he said, tossing my clothes at me .His hands shook. What the fuck had I done? He said to himself.

I pulled the dress over her head, the fabric clinging to my curves, and I had to look away or he'd drag me right back to the bed. "I'll... I'll go first," I said, slipping on my sandals.

"Will you text me later?"

"No," I said, too fast. "This never happened."

My face crumpled, but I nodded and left without another word, the door shutting soft behind me

My legs wobbled when I snatched my clothes from the floor and quickly fled to my room.

I was about preparing to the bathroom when a notification popped up my screen..

"Will you come for lectures on Monday".

I read it and threw my phone on the bed after a chuckle skipped my mouth...It was Elorm,my bestfriend i was offering the same course in the collage with.

Minutes later, the front door creaked open again. "Jessy? Honey, you up?"

I was still in my room, heart racing, the taste of him lingering on my tongue. I swallowed hard, smoothed my dress, and stepped into the hallway. "Yeah, Mom. I was... asleep when you knocked earlier."

She smiled, grocery bags in both arms. "Good. Come say hi. Your uncle's here."

Uncle.... The word hit like a brick.

Mom led me to the living room where he stood-Mark-hands in his pockets, pretending to study a family photo on the wall. He turned when we entered, and our eyes locked for a split second before he forced a smile.

"Jessy, this is Uncle Mark. My little brother-well, younger brother," Mom corrected with a laugh. "Our mom passed when I was twelve, so I raised him. He's been more like a big brother to you than an uncle, hasn't he?"

Mark extended a hand. "Hey, niece."

His palm was warm,too warm. I shook it quickly, mumbling, "Hi."

Mom didn't notice the tension. "He's staying a few days. Be nice, okay? I'm jumping in the shower-long shift ahead." She kissed my forehead and disappeared down the hall.

The second her door clicked shut, Mark and I stood frozen. He opened his mouth, closed it, then muttered, "Jessy, we-"

But I was already moving, legs carrying me to the bathroom before he could finish. I locked the door, turned the shower on full blast, and stripped. The hot water hit my skin like needles, but it couldn't scrub away the ache between my thighs.

I leaned against the tile, eyes closed, and the memories crashed in.

His cock in my mouth. The way he'd growled slut

How I'd swallowed him down like I was born for it.

My hand slid down my stomach, fingers finding my clit-swollen, slick, desperate. I rubbed slow circles at first, teasing, remembering how he'd yanked my hair, how his cum had dripped down my chin.

Faster now,Harder....harderrrr!!!

I bit my lip to stay quiet, hips rocking into my hand.

Daddy!!!,The word slipped into my mind unbidden, filthy and perfect.

My fingers plunged inside, two, then three, curling deep. I fucked myself against my palm, water pounding my back, breath hitching.

"Good girl,Take it deeper,deeper."

I was close,so close that i could'nt control myself

"Ah-ah-rrhggggg... I'm cumming, fuckkk this is soo good, Daddy!"

Mark Moretti

"What have I done? I brushed my hand through my hair like i was getting crazy.

I'd fucked my own niece. My sister's daughter. The little girl I used to carry on my shoulders, who cried into my shirt when her dad left.

"Sweet, innocent Jessy with those big hazel eyes and that soft, trusting smile. And I'd turned her into... into that.A trembling, moaning mess on her knees, begging for my cock like some desperate whore.

"Pendejo de mierda," I hissed under my breath, the Spanish slipping out like venom. 'Fucking idiot'. I slammed my fist into the tile. The pain shot up my arm, sharp and real, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough.

I'd been waiting for Carla;the girl from the club whom my friend introduced me to her anonymously. "Call me when you're ready to ruin me." I did,texted her the house address and told her to knock three times.

Three knocks,that's all it took.

I was already hard when I heard it-pent-up, frustrated, half-drunk on lust and whiskey. When she swung the door open, expecting Carla's smirk, her painted lips, not knowing it Jessy in that little sundress, hair damp from the summer heat, eyes wide and confused.

I called her slut, made her kneel ,came in her mouth and told her she was f***cking good.

Dios mío, what kind of man am I?

I turned the water colder, letting it bite into my skin. My cock twitched again-just the memory of her lips stretched around me, her throat working, tears in her eyes-and I wanted to vomit. I grabbed the soap, scrubbed my skin raw, trying to erase her scent, her taste, the way her pussy clenched when I-

"No ....Stop, had to stop.

I'd been in a rush ,desperate and lonely. Amanda was at work, the house too quiet, and all I could think about was burying myself in someone-anyone-to forget the years of nothing. Carla was supposed to be that. A transaction, a release. But Jessy was the one who walked in at the exact wrong second.

And I didn't stop.

I couldn't stop.

"Perdóname, Jessy," I whispered to the empty shower, voice cracking. Forgive me."