Dirty Family Secrets (Short Smut Stories)

AT

black dress as I stepped into the coz

d herb-crusted chicken, mingling with the faint under

e big day in just a few weeks. Alex's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, were the epitome of suburba

under the table. He was handsome in a boy-next-door way: clean-shaven, with neatly trimmed

the wedding plans he kept babbling about-the floral a

s the polar opposite of Alex: rugged, cocky, with a perpetual five-o'clock shadow

of a man who'd broken more hearts and more beds than I could imagine. His dark hair was tous

ippling muscles beneath. His jeans were tight enough to outline the impressive bulge at his crotch, a

my legs to quell the sudden ach

was wron

wo years, and he was the perfect man with a stable job as an acc

who'd pin me down and fuck me senseless, le

air, manspreading like he owned the room, his thighs straining against the denim. Or the smirk that played on

d, snapping me out of my daze. I smiled politely, handi

y dress up over my hips, exposing my lace thong. I'd worn it tonight thinking it might lead to some

with that band from the expo, the one that plays all the cla

ed to at their wedding? Nah, bro. Give me something with a beat, something that makes you want to grind up on someone." His eyes

er his gaze, poking against

thought of Ben's hips grinding against mine, his hard cock

a web of depravity. I pictured Ben cornering me in the hallway after dinner, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "I know you've been staring at my d

tifle a moan. The conversation flowed around me oblivious. Mr. Thompson was talking about the

up my dress, fingers delving between my legs to find my soaked panties. "Fucking drenched for me

thrust his massive cock inside me in one brutal s

lapping against my ass with every thrust, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks. "Take it, you cheating whor

, milking his dick as he hammered my G-spot. My tits would boun

n his fingers, tugging hard until I cried out. "That's it, baby. Cum fo

to my panties. I glanced at Ben again, and this time, he was star

e smell my wetness fr

I excused myself. "I... I need to use the bathro

ueeze, oblivious as eve

hardwood floor. I locked myself in the guest bathr

lected my disheveled state. My blonde hair was slightly mussed, my green eyes wide with lust, lips

ay glistening with my juices, my clit

rling with the imagination of Ben following me to the bat

gance. He'd grab me by the throat, not hard enough to hurt, bu

. Show me that pretty pussy you've

ed to his knees. His stubble would scrape my inner thighs as he buri

rmur, sucking my clit into his mouth,

t faster, mimicking the motion. I imagined Ben's fingers plungi

ch you out with my cock soon. But f

t until pain mixed with pleasure. In the fantasy, Ben stood up, unzipping his jeans to

n my chin, mixing with his pre-cum as I bobbed my head, hollowing my cheeks to suck him ha

and slam into me from behind. Watching our reflection as he fucked me. "Look at yourself," he'd growl.

ingers pumping in and out of my slick hole. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my body trembling as the orgasm buil

ring around him, my juices squirting onto his balls as he erupted

y cry as I came, my pussy spasming around my

aftershocks still rippling through me. I cleaned up

elling. I slid back into my seat, avoiding Ben's gaze. But then I felt his eyes on me.

lit from within. And I knew this