Shadows of Forbidden Cravings
In the dim glow of her cramped apartment overlooking the bustling city streets, Mia tossed restlessly in her sheets. The air hung heavy with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt drifting through the cracked window, mixing with the faint musk of her own arousal. At twenty-one, she’d always been the wild one in her family, but lately, something deeper stirred—a gnawing hunger that no casual fling could satisfy. Her body had changed these past months; curves softened into fuller hips, breasts heavier against her ribcage, a subtle swell to her belly that she traced with tentative fingers each night. Periods? Forgotten like old homework. And those dreams… God, they clawed at her sanity.
She dreamed of Victor again, her father, broad-shouldered and commanding, his salt-and-pepper hair tousled from a day on construction sites back home. In the haze of sleep, he wasn’t the stern provider who’d raised her alone after Mom bailed years ago. No, he was raw, urgent, pinning her against the rough bark of some imagined tree, his callused hands roaming where they shouldn’t. “Mia, baby girl,” he’d growl, voice like gravel under tires, “you need this. Let Daddy show you.” She’d wake drenched, thighs slick, heart pounding against the forbidden thrill. It was sick, she knew—taboo father-daughter incest fantasies twisting her guts—but ever since those sessions at the wellness center with Dr. Harlan and occasionally Dr. Ellis, older men had become her fixation. What if Victor could make her shatter like they did?
Shaking it off, Mia glanced at her phone. Messages from the center piled up, reminders of her “mandatory check-in” tomorrow. Screw that. Victor was due in town for a builders’ conference, crashing at a nearby hotel. Divorced life meant parents like him competed for her attention—lavish dinners, fat envelopes of cash, dragging her friends along for the show. It’d been four months since she’d hugged him last, felt his solid frame against her softening one. Excitement bubbled, laced with that dark itch. Maybe this visit would scratch it, or maybe it’d burn everything down.
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Chapter 1: Whispers in the Rain
The hotel lobby buzzed with conference-goers, the air thick with coffee steam and polished leather smells. Mia spotted Victor first, leaning against a pillar, his flannel shirt stretched over a chest still rippling from years of manual labor. At forty-eight, he carried age like a badge—lines etched from sun and stress, eyes sharp blue under thick brows. She hadn’t told him about the weight; how her jeans hugged tighter now, how Dr. Harlan’s “therapies” had left her body humming in ways she couldn’t explain.
“There’s my firecracker,” Victor boomed, sweeping her into a bear hug that crushed her fuller tits against him. His cologne, woodsy and sharp, flooded her senses. She lingered, lips brushing the warm pulse at his neck, inhaling deeply. A soft moan escaped her—innocent, she hoped—as she nuzzled closer.
He pulled back, chuckling, but his gaze lingered on her flushed cheeks, the way her skirt clung to rounded thighs. “Missed you, kiddo. You look… different. Good different.” His hand squeezed her shoulder, thumb grazing bare skin. Mia’s pulse raced; was that curiosity in his eyes, or just fatherly pride?
They grabbed a corner booth in the hotel restaurant, plates clattering with steak and fries, the sizzle of meat cutting through low chatter. Victor shoveled food like always, but Mia picked at hers, nerves twisting. “So, what’s new in your world?” he asked, wiping grease from his stubbled chin.
“College grind. And this wellness thing—keeps me balanced.” She sipped wine, the tart bite grounding her. No way she’d spill about Harlan’s probing fingers or Ellis’s rough commands during “sessions.” Those had started innocently enough—a checkup after a flu scare—but escalated into hardcore explorations, his cock slamming her against exam tables while he murmured about “releasing tensions.” Now, with her body betraying signs of pregnancy, she pushed it down. Harlan swore it was fine, distracting her with orgasms that left her boneless.
Her phone vibrated. The center again—insistent texts about rescheduling. Victor noticed. “Workin’ on your day off?”
“Nah, junk.” She silenced it, but another buzz. Voicemail icon flashed. He raised a brow. “Sounds important.”
“It’s nothing. Hey, wanna hit the town after? Show you the lights?” Distraction. That’s what she needed.
But Victor’s jaw set, that responsible streak flaring. “If it’s medical, Mia, don’t blow it off. Remember when you were a teen, hiding that sprained ankle? Led to worse.”
She sighed, defeated. “Fine. It’s a quick check at the center. But you’re not coming.”
He grinned, stubborn as ever. “Try and stop me. I’ll wait outside.”
Unexpected Shadows
Rain pattered against the cab window as they rode to the wellness center, a sleek building tucked in the city’s edge, all glass and sterile white. Mia’s stomach knotted; Harlan’s office smelled of antiseptic and something primal, like sweat-soaked linens. Victor paid the fare, his arm brushing hers—electric, unintended.
Inside, the receptionist, a sharp-eyed woman named Lena, waved them back without question. “Family visit? He can join.”
Mia’s glare bounced off her. “No, really—”
“Policy for regulars,” Lena cut in, smirking. Victor shrugged, following like it was no big deal.
In the exam room, cool air kissed Mia’s skin as she perched on the padded table, fully clothed. Victor sank into a chair, scrolling his phone, oblivious. The door swung open, and Dr. Harlan entered—tall, mid-forties, with a predatory smile under wire-rimmed glasses. His white coat hid a lean, muscled frame honed from who-knows-what.
“Mia. And… company?” Harlan’s eyes flicked to Victor, a shadow crossing his face.
“My dad, Victor. He’s just waiting.”
Victor glanced up, nodding curtly. “Proceed, Doc. She’s tough.”
Harlan’s lips twitched. “Full gyno exam today. Since Dad’s here, let’s educate him. Saves time.” He turned to Victor. “Mind if I get hands-on? Nothing you haven’t seen growing up.”
Victor’s ears reddened, but he waved it off. “She’s your patient.”
Mia’s heart hammered. This wasn’t the plan.
She stripped reluctantly—shirt first, then bra, her heavy breasts spilling free, nipples pebbling in the chill. Victor’s eyes darted to the wall, jaw tight. Pants and panties followed, leaving her bare, vulnerable. She climbed back, legs dangling, as Harlan positioned stirrups, spreading her wide. The room echoed with her shallow breaths, the faint hum of fluorescent lights.
“Breasts first,” Harlan said, voice clinical yet laced with heat. He stood opposite Victor, ensuring the view. His hands—warm, sure—circled her left tit, kneading deep, thumb flicking the peak. Mia bit her lip, a gasp slipping out as he pinched, tugging.
Victor’s head snapped over at the sound, gaze locking on her flushed mound, the dark thatch above her slit. He swallowed hard, looking away, but not before Mia saw the bulge stirring in his jeans.
Chapter 2: Hands That Bind
Harlan’s touch lingered, professional mask cracking into something hungrier. “Victor, ever checked her yourself? Lumps, tenderness—fathers should know.”
“What? No, that’s… your job.” Victor’s voice roughened, like sandpaper on wood.
“Routine self-exam’s key. Hard for her alone. Come here; I’ll demonstrate.” Harlan’s tone brooked no argument, a stern edge that made Mia’s core clench.
Victor hesitated, rising slow, his work boots scuffing the tile. He loomed over her, scent of earth and rain clinging to him. “Arm up, Mia,” Harlan instructed. She obeyed, staring at the ceiling tiles, counting cracks to steady herself.
Harlan massaged her right breast, firm circles probing tissue. “Like this—deep, feel the give.” Victor’s hand hovered, then descended, rough palm cupping her left. His touch was lighter, tentative, fingers trembling as they sank into soft flesh. “Press harder,” Harlan urged. “Know every inch, like it’s yours.”
Mia’s breath hitched. Victor’s calluses scraped deliciously, awakening nerves she’d only felt under Harlan’s skilled hands. Her nipple stiffened, poking his palm; he noticed, breath quickening, a low rumble in his throat. The air thickened, charged with unspoken want—sweat beading on Victor’s brow, the wet glisten between Mia’s thighs.
“Switch,” Harlan said. Victor circled the table, eyes inevitably dropping to her exposed cunt, lips parted, slick with need. He mirrored the motions on her other breast, bolder now, kneading with growing confidence. Both men pinched in unison, rolling peaks until Mia arched, a whimper escaping.
Victor stepped back, but Harlan wasn’t done. “Now, the internals. Vaginal health—cysts, irregularities. Touch is best.” He met Victor’s gaze. “What if she’s away, needs a check? Better you than some stranger groping for kicks.”
“I… yeah, makes sense.” Victor’s reluctance crumbled under the logic, positioning between her splayed legs. Mia’s pussy throbbed under his stare, juices trickling onto the paper sheet, the salty tang rising.
Harlan slid two fingers in first—easy glide, her walls welcoming. “Deep press,” he narrated, free hand on her belly, pushing down. Then, the curl—against that electric spot. Mia moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the squelch of her arousal loud in the quiet room. 🔥
“You alright, baby?” Victor’s voice cracked, concern warring with something darker.
“Healthy reaction,” Harlan soothed. “Your turn. Feel for anomalies.”
Victor’s fingers—thicker, rougher—probed her entrance. She clenched around him, hot and greedy. His eyes widened, a chuckle bubbling up. “Damn, kiddo… tight as a vice.” He pressed as directed, curling finally, stroking her G-spot with unwitting expertise.
“That’s it,” Harlan coached. “Her sweet spot. Never hit it right with her mom.”
Victor’s fascination grew, thumb grazing her clit accidentally, sending sparks through Mia. She panted, body coiling, the pressure building like a storm. Waves crashed—orgasm ripping free, juices soaking his hand as she cried out, thighs quivering against cold metal.
“Shit, Mia—did I hurt you?” He withdrew, face a mix of shock and awe, wiping on a proffered towel.
Harlan cleared his throat. “One more thing. Mia, you’re pregnant. Confirmed.”
The room spun. Victor’s fury erupted. “Pregnant? Who the hell—without protection?!”
“Not what you think, Dad!” Mia pleaded, but Harlan spun the tale, painting her as reckless, begging for “extra attention.”
“She needs discipline,” Harlan said. “Fuck the lesson into her. Desensitize that wanton side. Can’t knock her up twice.”
Victor’s bewilderment hardened to resolve. “If anyone’s teaching her… it’s me.”
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Chapter 3: Breaking the Dam
Mia’s world narrowed to the heat in Victor’s eyes, the drip of her release cooling on her skin. He unbuckled, jeans pooling at his ankles, revealing a cock thick as her wrist, veined and angry-red, pre-cum beading at the tip. It bobbed heavy, scent musky and male, hitting her like a drug.
She tried to close her legs, shame flooding, but his palm pressed her thigh wide. “Look at you, leaking like a faucet for your own father.” Disgust laced awe; his fingers smeared her mess higher, circling her clit roughly.
Harlan stepped to her head, hands reclaiming her tits, pinching nipples to keep her edged. “Take her, Victor. Hard. She craves it.”
Victor’s grip bruised her hips as he aligned, the blunt head nudging her folds. One thrust—deep, stretching her to burn. They groaned together, the slap of skin echoing, her walls fluttering around his girth. “Fuck, baby girl… so goddamn wet for Daddy.”
He pistoned, relentless, thumb grinding her nub. Mia’s moans filled the room, crude and desperate—”Yes, Daddy, harder!”—as pleasure coiled tight. Harlan muffled her cries with a hand, the other twisting her peaks. Victor’s grunts grew animalistic, sweat dripping from his brow onto her belly, salty on her tongue as she licked her lips.
She shattered first, cunt spasming, milking him in waves that blurred her vision. Victor followed, roaring as he flooded her, hot spurts painting her depths. “Take it all, you little slut,” he gasped, grinding deep, cock pulsing.
Spent, he pulled free, a gush of their mixed cum trailing. He brought the slick length to her mouth. “Lick clean.” Mia obeyed, tongue swirling the tangy blend—her sweetness, his bitterness—sucking until he twitched.
“Good girl,” he murmured, zipping up. To Harlan: “Your go.” Then he left, door clicking shut.
Alone with Harlan, Mia spat, “You bastard. That was twisted.”
He cranked the table, lubing her ass with clinical efficiency. “You both needed it. And yeah, you’re ovulating now—pregnant for real after this.” His fingers breached her rear, scissoring, then his cock rammed home, anal fire blooming into ecstasy. She screamed into the pillow, the burn twisting to bliss as he pounded, balls slapping her soaked pussy.
He came with a snarl, filling her back passage, the overflow warm and sticky. Mia collapsed, body humming, mind reeling from the taboo father-daughter incest that had just rewritten her soul.
Echoes in the Hall
Outside, Victor paced the sterile corridor, the echo of Mia’s moans haunting him. Rain hammered the windows, mirroring the storm inside. What had he done? Fucked his own daughter—raw, unprotected—in a doctor’s office. But her taste lingered on his skin, her cries like music he’d denied too long. He wasn’t the same man anymore; the dam had cracked, and forbidden cravings poured through.
Chapter 4: Tangled Aftermath
Back at the hotel, the elevator hummed ascent, trapping Mia and Victor in tense silence. Her body ached deliciously—sore pussy, tender ass—cum still leaking into her panties, a constant reminder. Victor’s arm brushed hers, sparking heat despite the awkwardness. Dinner forgotten, they headed to his suite, the door’s click sealing them in privacy.
The room smelled of fresh linens and Victor’s cologne, city lights twinkling through rain-streaked glass. Mia kicked off shoes, collapsing on the bed, skirt riding up. “Dad… about earlier.”
He poured scotch, glass clinking, handing her one. “Don’t. We both… lost it.” But his eyes devoured her legs, the flush on her neck.
She sipped, the burn steadying. “It felt right. Wrong, but… God, your cock inside me.” Crude words tumbled, emboldened by wine and want.
Victor’s glass shattered on the nightstand—liquid spilling like her earlier release. “Mia, stop.” Yet he advanced, looming over her, hand cupping her jaw. His thumb traced her lip, dipping in; she sucked, eyes locked.
“You taste like sin,” he growled, crashing his mouth to hers. 💋 The kiss devoured—tongues battling, teeth nipping, his stubble scraping her chin raw. He shoved her back, yanking skirt and panties free, diving between thighs. His tongue lapped her folds, groaning at the mix of his cum and hers, salty-sweet. “Daddy’s messy girl.”
Mia threaded fingers in his hair, grinding against his face, the wet smacks filling the room. He sucked her clit, fingers plunging—three now, stretching—until she squirted, soaking his beard, cries muffled in pillows scented with hotel soap.
He stripped, cock hard again, veined monster throbbing. “On your knees. Show Daddy how grateful you are.” She did, ass up, presenting like a bitch in heat. He mounted, slamming home, the bed creaking rhythmically. “Fuck, your cunt’s made for me—tight, greedy.”
They rutted like animals, skin slapping, sweat mingling. Mia begged—”Deeper, Daddy, breed me again!”—and he did, flipping her to face him, legs wrapped as he hammered. Orgasm hit them synced, her nails raking his back, his seed erupting in hot jets.
After, they lay tangled, breaths syncing. “This changes everything,” Victor whispered, hand on her belly. “But I don’t regret it.”
Mia smiled, tracing his chest hair. “Neither do I. More, tomorrow?”
Flashback Flames
That night, sleep brought memories—not dreams, but the raw truth of her first time with Harlan. Weeks ago, post-flu, she’d gone for a “follow-up.” The office dim, curtains drawn, his hands “checking vitals” turned to strokes under her gown. “Relax, Mia,” he’d said, fingers circling her clit through damp cotton. She’d gasped, but parted legs invited more.
He’d bent her over the table, skirt hiked, panties aside. His cock—long, curved—speared her virgin-tight pussy, the stretch burning sweet. “Good patient,” he grunted, pounding as she clutched edges, the metallic tang of blood from bitten lip mixing with her arousal. He’d cum inside, whispering of “regular treatments,” hooking her on the rush. Ellis joined once, double-teaming her mouth and ass, their grunts a symphony of degradation. That’s when the weight started, the missed cycles—but pleasure drowned worry.
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Chapter 5: Depths of Surrender
Dawn crept through blinds, painting the suite in gold. Mia woke to Victor’s mouth on her breast, suckling lazily, his erection nudging her thigh. No words needed; she spread, guiding him in. Slow this time, missionary intimacy—eyes locked, his thrusts deep, rolling. “My baby girl,” he murmured, hand between them rubbing her swollen clit. The bed whispered under them, sheets twisting, her moans soft against his neck, tasting salt.
They peaked together, a quiet storm, his release warm inside her fertile core. Shower followed—steam clouding mirrors, water cascading over bodies. He soaped her curves, fingers dipping into every crevice, then pressed her against tile, taking her ass slow. The soap eased the glide, but pain bloomed to pleasure, his growls echoing off porcelain as he filled her rear.
Dressed, they met the day—breakfast in the cafe, his foot hooking hers under table, secret smiles. But the center called again; Harlan demanded a “post-visit.” Victor insisted on going, protective now.
Back in that room, Harlan waited, Ellis too—a burly redhead with a wicked grin. “Progress report?” Harlan asked, eyeing their rumpled clothes.
Victor’s arm snaked around Mia. “Handled it. She’s mine now.”
Ellis laughed. “Share the wealth? For science.”
Tension crackled. Harlan nodded. “Group session. Educate the family.”
Clothes shed, Mia on the table, legs wide. Victor claimed her pussy first, cock sliding home amid cheers. Ellis took her mouth, thick shaft gagging her, tears streaming as she sucked. Harlan lubed her ass, joining the fray—double penetration, her holes stuffed, bodies slapping in frenzy.
“Fuck her like the whore she is,” Harlan urged. Victor obeyed, pounding harder, the table groaning. Mia’s world narrowed to sensations—fullness stretching, tastes of pre-cum, scents of sex heavy, sounds of wet flesh and grunts. She came endlessly, squirting around Victor, choking on Ellis.
They rotated—Ellis in her ass, rough and deep, spanking red welts; Harlan face-fucking while Victor sucked her tits. Cum painted her—inside, out, swallowed. Victor’s final load in her mouth, sharing with a kiss, salty exchange. 💋
Exhausted, they dressed. Harlan smirked. “Pregnancy confirmed. Family’s growing.”
Outside, rain cleared to sun. Victor held Mia close. “We’ll figure it. Together.”
She nodded, hand on belly, the forbidden fire now a blaze. No regrets, only hunger for more—taboo depths explored, pleasures raw and unending.
New Horizons
Weeks later, Mia’s swell grew, Victor visiting often, their hotel romps evolving—bondage with ties from his work belt, roleplay of “punishing the naughty daughter.” Dr. Ellis joined sporadically, adding edges, but Victor reigned, his love fierce, fucks brutal yet tender. The baby kicked, a secret thrill, as they surrendered to the chaos they’d unleashed. Life twisted, but in ecstasy’s grip, it felt right—hardcore, unfiltered, theirs. 🔥
