I push a finger in, slow, working her back door open. She shudders, pushing back, taking it like she was born for it. I add a second finger, scissoring her gently, stretching her wider.
“Please, I need your cock, Daddy,” she whimpers. “Please!”
I line myself up, resting the thick head against her hole. “Work yourself onto it,” I rasp. “I want to see how much your horny asshole craves dick.”
The words are foul, but Daisy does, inch by inch, impaling her bottom on my thickness, slow and steady until the whole shaft is in. She gasps, freezes, then lets out a long, shaking breath.
“That’s it,” I soothe, rubbing her back. “Just relax. You did perfect.”
I hold still, letting her adjust to my massive size buried in her rectum, and then start to fuck her, shallow at first, then deeper, each thrust making her moan louder.
I grab her hips, pulling her onto me, fucking her slow and deep. The silk sheets slide under her knees, and I watch the filthy, obscene sight of my huge veiny cock disappearing again and again into her tight asshole. It’s almost enough to make me come.
I lean forward, covering her body with mine, kissing her shoulders and biting her neck. I reach around, finger her clit, and she tightens even more.
“Oh!” she cries out. “Oh oh oh I’m going to?—!”
Daisy climaxes again, the sound muffled by the pillow, her whole body trembling as she milks me with her asshole. The tremors are powerful, squeezing around my cock until I can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” I groan, and let go, filling her with bottom with creamy white, thrusting until I’m empty.
I collapse beside her, dragging her into my arms.
We lie together, bodies still damp, breathing hard. I stroke her hair, kiss her temple, and for a long time, neither of us says a word.
Then, Daisy turns, burying her face in my chest, and falls asleep almost instantly.
I stay awake, just listening to her breathe.
An hour later,my phone buzzes. I slip out of bed, pad naked to the living room, and check the screen.
Unknown number.
I answer, voice low. “Yeah?”
“Hunter McCarren?” A woman’s voice, urgent but polite.
“Yeah.”
“This is Eliza Shaw. I’m your stepsister, Tara’s, friend.”
I nod. Right, I remember her somewhat. Eliza’s the one who hooked up with her dad’s best friend, and the two allegedly do sex shows on camera now. Who knew. Still, I keep any judgment out of my voice.
“Eliza,” I say, forcing calm. “Long time.”
“I’m so sorry to call late. I just—I want to check up on Tara,” she babbles. “Her parents told me that she’s staying with you. And she was on the phone with me when she was in that car accident. It must have thrown her for a loop.”
I appreciate the woman’s concern and want to answer truthfully. But I also don’t want to let on that I’ve basically been keeping my stepsister at my place as a sex slave.
I glance down the hall, making sure I hear no noise. “Tara’s fine, Eliza,” I say. “She just needed some time away. She’s safe.”
“Is she okay? Her old phone is dead.”
“Yeah, she’s just resting. The accident shook her, and she quit her job at the cafe to recuperate a little. Mentally, I mean. Physically, she’s fine. She’ll be in touch in no time, I’m sure.”
There’s a long pause.
“Are you sure?” Eliza presses. “Tara wouldn’t ghost me, not for this long. And she’s not picking up for her dad either, which is?—”