Beast Unleashed: Stepdaughter’s Ravenous Surrender
Jump deeper into the fire: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Steamy Train Station Standoff 🔥
The screech of the train brakes pierced the humid evening air at the bustling downtown station, metal grinding on metal like a lover’s nails down a tense back. Lila stepped off, her tight yoga pants clinging to her sweat-glistened thighs from the long ride, heart pounding not just from the journey but from the secret thrill buzzing in her veins. Twenty-three now, with sun-kissed curves honed from endless squats and lunges, her wild auburn waves cascaded over shoulders that screamed temptation.
Marcus waited on the platform, arms crossed over his broad chest, that salt-and-pepper stubble framing a jaw set like forged steel. At forty-eight, the ex-Marine turned private security consultant loomed like a shadowed predator, veins popping along forearms thick as her calves. His dark eyes locked on her the instant she emerged, devouring the sway of her hips, the way her crop top rode up just enough to tease the undercurve of those full, heavy tits.
“Missed me, Daddy?” Lila purred, voice low and husky, laced with that forbidden edge they’d danced around since she turned legal. She sauntered close, pressing her body flush against his in the crowd, feeling the instant twitch of his massive bulge against her belly. The scent of his musky cologne mixed with train exhaust and her own aroused tang—sweet pussy nectar already dampening her panties.
He gripped her waist hard, fingers digging into soft flesh, pulling her ear to his lips. “You know damn well I did, you little tease. Been jerking off to thoughts of that tight ass all week.” His breath was hot, ragged, carrying the faint whiskey tinge from his flask. She shivered, nipples peaking into diamond points under thin fabric, aching for his rough pinch.
Crowd be damned, she ground her mound against his thigh, feeling the denim rasp her clit through layers. “Prove it. Right here.” Her hand slipped down, bold as brass, palming the outline of his throbbing meat—Jesus, thicker than her wrist, veins pulsing like they had a heartbeat of their own.
Marcus growled low, a rumble that vibrated straight to her core. “Fucking hell, girl. Hotel’s two blocks. You walk nice, or I carry you.” But he didn’t pull away, letting her stroke him slow, public fingers tracing the flare of his helmet. Passersby blurred into irrelevance; her world narrowed to his heat, his scent, the salty taste when she licked her lips imagining his cum flooding her throat.
She laughed, breathy and wicked, nipping his earlobe. “Carry me then. Show ’em what a real man claims.” His arm hooked under her knees in a blur, hoisting her bridal-style amid gasps from strangers. Her legs parted instinctively, cunt lips swelling as his bicep flexed against her soaked seam. Every step jolted her, friction building, until she was whimpering softly, juices trickling down her crack.
Chapter 2: Elevator Edge of Madness 💋
The hotel lobby gleamed under crystal chandeliers, marble cool underfoot as Marcus barreled through, Lila draped over him like a conquered prize. Ding of the elevator doors, and they tumbled in alone—mirrored walls reflecting their feral hunger from every angle. He slammed the close button, then her back to the panel, the chill steel kissing her spine like an icy lover.
“You soaked through already, aren’t you?” His voice gravel-rough, hand shoving between her thighs. Fingers found the drenched crotch of her pants, rubbing hard circles over her pulsing clit. She bucked, moaning loud, the wet schlick audible in the confined space.
“For you… always for you, Marcus.” No more “Daddy” here—raw names fueled the taboo blaze. She clawed at his shirt, popping buttons to expose ripped pecs dusted with coarse hair, nipples dark and pebbled. Leaning in, she latched onto one, sucking like a starved whore, tongue flicking as her teeth grazed. He hissed, hips snapping forward, that iron-hard prick battering her navel.
Floors ticked by agonizingly slow. His free hand yanked her top up, freeing those lush melons—pink areolas wide as saucers, tips begging. He mauled them, twisting roughly, milk-white flesh spilling between tattooed fingers. “These tits… fuck, made for my mouth.” He bent, engulfing one whole, slurping noisily, drool trailing down her sternum to pool in her navel. The suction pulled her soul out, clit throbbing in sync.
Lila’s hands fisted his belt, yanking it open. Zipper rasped, and out sprang his beast—nine veiny inches, purple head glistening pre-cum like dew on a plum. She wrapped both hands around the girth, stroking slick, thumb smearing the slit. “Taste you first.” Dropping to knees on the plush carpet, elevator humming ascent, she inhaled his musk—sweat, man, primal.
Mouth watering, she swirled her tongue around the ridge, savoring salty beads. Then engulfed, cheeks hollowing, throat relaxing from practice. Gagging wetly as she deepthroated, nose buried in wiry pubes. Marcus fisted her hair, fucking her face with shallow pumps. “That’s it, choke on Daddy’s fat cock, slut.”
Ding—doors slid open on their floor. He hauled her up by hair, pants sagging, her lips swollen and shiny. Staggered down the hall, keycard fumbling, until the room door clicked shut behind them.
Chapter 3: Wall of Wicked Denial
Inside the suite, city lights twinkled through floor-to-ceiling windows, but shadows cloaked their sin. Marcus spun her, slamming her tits-first against the wall—paint cool on nipples, ass arched out invitingly. He stripped her pants down in one rip, thong snapping aside, exposing her shaved slit, lips puffy and parted, cream stringing between thighs.
“Look at this greedy cunt. Dripping like a faucet for stepdaddy’s dick.” His palm cracked her ass cheek—sharp sting blooming red, heat radiating. She yelped, pushing back, cheeks spreading to bare her puckered rosebud, already winking.
He shucked his clothes, naked glory pressing in—hairy chest scraping her back, cock nestling hot between globes. Thick fingers probed her folds, two plunging knuckle-deep, curling to mash her G-spot. Her walls clenched, sucking him in, juices squirting onto his wrist with each thrust. “Hear that? Your pussy’s begging.”
Lila thrashed, walls clenching futilely. “Fuck me! Stretch my hole!” But he denied, withdrawing slick digits to paint her lips, forcing her to taste her tang—tart, musky nectar coating tongue.
Instead, he slotted his shaft along her crack, sliding the length up and down, bulbous head bumping her clit each pass. Electricity sparked; she spasmed, thighs quaking. His growl vibrated through her, chest rumbling against spine. “Not yet. Gonna edge this whore cunt till you break.”
One hand pinned her wrists high, the other mauled her swinging udders, pinching tips till they bruised purple. His hips rolled relentless, cock gliding through her sopping valley, never penetrating. Her cream lubed him glossy; the friction dragged her hood back, exposing raw pearl to direct kisses from his frenulum.
“Oh god… please… gonna cum!” She shattered, orgasm ripping uncontrolled—walls fluttering empty, gush flooding his balls, puddle forming at their feet. Salty tears mixed sweat stinging her eyes; still, he teased, prolonging waves till she sobbed for mercy.
Finally, he spun her, eyes black with lust. “My turn to wreck you.” But release? Not yet.
Chapter 4: Tub of Tormenting Tongues 🔥
Flashback clawed through Lila’s blissed haze: their first forbidden touch, months back in his home gym. She’d caught him mid-pullup, sweat-slick muscles bulging, and dropped to knees unbidden. Now, in the steaming hotel tub, marble edges biting hips, she craved replay amplified.
Marcus lounged back, water lapping hairy thighs, cock half-submerged like a surfaced submarine. “Ride my face first, babygirl. Drown me in that squirt.” She straddled his skull, knees on tub ledges, cunt hovering over beard-stubbled mouth. Lowering slow, his tongue speared her depths—broad laps from taint to clit, savoring folds like prime rib.
The slurp echoed off tiles, bubbles popping around them. His nose mashed her button; suction pulled hood taut. Fingers pried cheeks, pinky circling asshole, dipping rim shallow. “Taste so fucking sweet… like ripe peach soaked in cum.”
Lila ground down, tits bouncing water droplets, nipples flicked by waves. “Eat it, Daddy… tongue-fuck my sloppy hole!” Orgasm two built fast, thighs clamping ears as she hosed his maw—hot jets coating chin, dripping into bath.
He surged up, water sloshing, flipping positions. Now she gulped air, head back as his prick battered tonsils anew. Vertical sixty-nine in tub chaos—her sucking balls deep, gagging foam, him devouring ass now, rimming with pointed tongue. “Gonna tongue your shithole open, prep for later.”
She popped off, gasping. “Ass? Yes… ruin every virgin inch.” New territory; her stepdad’s fat pole up backdoor? Taboo terror thrilled. He chuckled dark, teeth nipping clit. “Beg proper.”
“Please… stretch my tight asshole with your monster cock!” Waves crashed higher with her plea.
Chapter 5: Bed-Breaking Backdoor Breach 💋
Tub abandoned, towels strewn, they crashed onto king-sized sheets—Egyptian cotton twisting under frenzy. Marcus prowled over her on all fours, a panther scenting prey. “On your belly. Ass up for claiming.”
Lila obeyed, pillows propping hips, cheeks spread by her own hands. Mirror opposite showed the obscene vista: pink slit gaping, rosebud twitching. He knelt behind, spitting on hole, thumb working it in circles till she loosened. “Good girl… relax for Daddy’s meat.”
Cockhead nudged pucker, pressure building—burn stretching ring, then pop, first inches invading. She screamed, muffled in pillow, pain-pleasure exploding. Inch by veiny inch, he sank balls-deep, gut distending visibly. “Fuck… so tight… virgin ass milking me.”
Full, impaled, she rocked back tentative. His hands gripped hipbones white-knuckled, starting piston—slow grinds morphing slams, balls slapping clit. Wet farts escaped seal, lube her cream mixing spit. “Hear that? Your shithole farting on my prick.”
“Harder! Wreck it!” Dialogue devolved crude; senses overloaded—musk of ass-fuck heavy, sheets sweat-soaked, taste of blood-bit lip coppery.
He flipped her to back, legs ankles-by-ears, drilling deeper. Phone buzzed ignored—work crisis? Fuck it. Her cunt frothed untouched; ass-prostate milked him. “Gonna flood your guts… breed this taboo hole.”
Climax chained hers—ass clenching vise, squirting arc soaking abs. His roar shook windows, pulsing ropes jetting deep, overflow bubbling out.
Chapter 6: Dawn’s Devoured Afterglow 🔥
Sunrise bled gold through blinds as Lila stirred, body a map of bruises—thumbprints on thighs, hickeys laddering neck. Marcus spooned possessive, semi-hard morning wood twitching between cheeks, spent seed crusted there. She clenched, aftershocks rippling.
“More?” she whispered, grinding back. His arm banded waist, fingers delving cunt lazy. “Insatiable whore. Yeah, round whatever.”
New scene: balcony overlook, city awakening below. He bent her over railing, wind whipping hair, fucking missionary-walls style—prick sawing sloppy seconds in ass, then swapping holes seamless. “Pussy now… mix the loads.”
Doggy over ledge, tits dangling traffic-view, she came silent-screaming, vision whiting. He pulled out, painting face ropes—cum-glaze dripping chin to cleavage.
Back inside, they collapsed tangled. “You’re mine forever,” he murmured, kissing forehead tender amid savagery. Lila smiled wicked, already plotting next tease. This beast? Unleashed eternally in her chains.
But whispers of risk echoed—her mom’s texts unread, his job shadows looming. For now, pleasure’s haze drowned all. Their rhythm? Endless, raw, unbreakable.
She traced his scars—battle relics fueling dominance. “Love your animal, Marcus. Crave it daily.”
He smirked, thumbing clit anew. “Then beg, stepslut. Beg for eternity.”
And she did, as dawn birthed another frenzy.
