Steamy Forbidden Dates: A Father’s Intense Lesson
Jump to Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Lakeside Arrival and Simmering Tension 🔥
The gravel crunched under the tires of Marcus’s old pickup as he pulled into the secluded driveway of the lakeside cabin. Twilight painted the water in bruised purples and golds, the air thick with pine resin and the faint, earthy tang of damp soil. Lila, his nineteen-year-old daughter, shifted in the passenger seat, her athletic frame—toned from years of track meets—clad in a simple sundress that clung just enough to hint at the curves beneath.
Sophia, Marcus’s wife of two decades, had waved them off from the city apartment that morning with a knowing wink. “Make it a real getaway, you two,” she’d said, her voice laced with that playful edge. Marcus, at forty-five, still carried the broad-shouldered build of his construction foreman days, salt-and-pepper hair tousled by the drive, his hazel eyes flickering toward Lila more often than the road.
“This place is perfect,” Lila murmured, stepping out into the cooling evening. Her blonde waves caught the last light, green eyes wide as she inhaled the crisp scent of the lake. Marcus grabbed their bags, his muscles flexing under a fitted black shirt, watching her stretch like a cat after a long nap.
Inside, the cabin smelled of aged wood and faint lavender from some forgotten sachet. A stone fireplace dominated the living room, leading to a kitchenette where Marcus unpacked groceries—steaks, wine, fresh berries. Lila explored, her bare feet padding on cool oak floors, fingers trailing over a plush rug that begged for bare skin.
“So, about this ‘date’ idea,” she said, turning with a smirk, hands on hips. Marcus set down a bottle of cabernet, his gaze steady, intense. “College is coming, kiddo. Boys there won’t know how to treat you right. Figured I’d show you what a man does.”
She laughed, but it came out breathy, her cheeks warming. The idea had started as a joke over family dinner weeks ago—Sophia egging it on—but now, isolated here, it hung heavy. Marcus poured two glasses, handing her one. Their fingers brushed, electric, and she sipped fast, the rich red warming her throat like liquid fire.
They grilled steaks on the deck as stars pricked the sky. Smoke curled up, mingling with sizzling fat, the lake lapping rhythmically below. Lila’s dress fluttered in the breeze, exposing tanned thighs. Marcus flipped the meat, stealing glances, his cock twitching at the sight. “You look incredible,” he rumbled, voice low. She flushed, crossing her legs, feeling a forbidden heat pool low in her belly.
Dinner stretched languidly, forks scraping plates, wine loosening tongues. They talked dreams—her graphic design aspirations in Seattle, his quiet regrets about never traveling farther than state lines. Under the table, his boot nudged her calf, accidental at first, then lingering. Steamy fog rose from their empty plates, mirroring the haze in her mind.
Chapter 2: Whiskey Confessions by the Fire 💋
Later, flames crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows. Marcus switched to whiskey, neat, the amber liquid glinting. Lila joined, coughing at the burn, but chasing it with another. The room grew warmer, air thick with oak smoke and the subtle musk of their bodies unwinding.
She curled on the rug, knees drawn up, dress riding higher. Marcus sat beside her, close enough that his knee brushed her thigh. “Tell me about those college boys,” he prodded, voice gravelly. Lila rolled her eyes, but the whiskey made her bold. “Clumsy. All hands, no finesse. One tried to finger me in a frat basement—like, no buildup.”
He chuckled, deep, the sound vibrating through her. “Idiots. A real man builds it slow.” His hand landed on her knee, casual, thumb stroking idly. She froze, pulse hammering, but didn’t pull away. The fire popped, embers glowing like her flush.
“Like this?” he murmured, hand inching up, calluses rough against smooth skin. Lila’s breath hitched, nipples tightening under thin cotton. “Dad… Marcus,” she whispered, testing the name. He liked that—his cock hardened fully now, straining denim.
“Tonight, I’m your date. Say it.” His eyes locked on hers, commanding. “You’re my date,” she echoed, voice husky. He leaned in, whiskey breath mingling with her vanilla lip gloss. Their lips met soft at first, exploratory—salt of skin, sweetness of wine lingering. Then deeper, tongues tangling, her moan muffled against him.
His hand cupped her breast through the dress, thumb circling the peak. She arched, gasping into his mouth, tasting smoke and desire. “Steamy kiss,” she thought wildly, as heat flooded her core, panties dampening. Marcus broke away, eyes dark. “Bedroom’s down the hall. But first…”
He tugged her dress strap down, exposing one shoulder, then the swell of her breast. Lila whimpered, head falling back, blonde hair spilling like sunlight on the rug. His mouth followed, hot and wet, sucking the nipple until it pebbled, aching. The room spun with sensation—crackle of fire, wool rug scratching skin, his stubble grazing.
Chapter 3: Midnight Skinny Dip
The moon hung low, silvering the lake. Marcus stripped first on the dock, his body a map of hard planes and faded tattoos—construction scars like badges. His cock stood thick, veined, curving up eagerly. Lila hesitated, heart thundering, but the whiskey and his gaze stripped her resolve.
Dress pooled at her feet, revealing pert C-cups with dusky nipples, flat stomach flaring to wide hips, a trimmed blonde patch above slick folds. Naked, she shivered in night air, goosebumps rising, but dove after him, water shocking cold against fevered skin.
They surfaced laughing, splashing, bodies colliding underwater. His hands found her waist, pulling her close, hardness pressing her belly. “Feel that? That’s what you do,” he growled, voice echoing over ripples. Lila wrapped legs around him, grinding instinctively, water lapping their joined heat.
“Steamy water hides nothing,” she gasped, feeling his length slide between thighs, teasing her entrance. Moonlight gleamed on wet skin, pine scent sharp, taste of lake on lips as he kissed her fiercely. Fingers delved, parting her petals, stroking the swollen clit until she cried out, nails digging his shoulders.
He spun her, back to chest, one arm banded across breasts, hand pinching nipples while the other worked her heat. “Come for your date,” he commanded. Waves slapped wood pilings, her moans mingling with loons’ calls. Climax hit like a breaker, body convulsing, inner walls fluttering around invading fingers.
Drenched, they stumbled to shore, towels forgotten. Grass tickled backs as he laid her down, devouring her pussy—tongue lapping salt-lake mix from her folds, nose buried in musky curls. “Fuck, taste like sin,” he muttered, sucking clit hard. Lila bucked, hands fisting grass, second orgasm ripping through, thighs clamping his head.
Chapter 4: Cabin Bedroom Inferno
Back inside, air steamy from their wet bodies and lingering fire. Marcus carried her to the king bed, sheets cool against heated skin. Lila’s green eyes glazed with lust, legs splaying wantonly. “Want you inside,” she begged, voice raw. He grinned wolfish, shedding last clothes.
His hardness bobbed, pre-cum beading the tip—thick as her wrist, eight inches of rigid need. She stroked it, marveling velvet over steel, thumb smearing slickness. Marcus groaned, hips bucking. “Suck it, baby.”
On knees, she took him—lips stretching, tongue swirling ridges. Salty tang filled mouth, gagging as he hit throat, but she pushed deeper, hollowing cheeks. Hands roamed his balls, heavy and drawn tight. “Good girl, throat-fuck yourself,” he rasped, fingers tangling blonde strands.
Pulled off with a pop, strings of saliva connecting. He flipped her, ass up, spanking cheeks red—crack echoing, sting blooming pleasure. “Steamy ass, begging.” Dove in, tongue rimming her puckered hole while fingers plunged cunt, curling to hit that spot. Lila keened, juices dripping thighs.
Positioned behind, he rubbed head along slit, teasing. “Beg.” “Please, Marcus, fuck me hard!” Slammed home, stretching her virgin-tight walls—incestuous union burning. Gasped at fullness, pain-pleasure blurring. He pounded relentlessly, balls slapping clit, bedframe thumping walls.
Sweat-slick skin slapped, grunts and wet squelches filling room. Pulled hair, arching back, free hand rubbing clit. “Come on my cock.” She shattered, screaming, milking him. He followed, roaring, flooding depths with hot spurts—pulse after pulse painting womb.
Collapsed entangled, breaths ragged, scents of sex heavy—cum, sweat, pussy. He kissed her temple, tender now. “My perfect date.”
Chapter 5: Dawn’s Guilty Pleasures and New Games
Sun filtered through pines, birdsong piercing quiet. Lila woke sore, deliciously used, Marcus’s arm heavy across waist, morning wood poking ass. Smiled slyly, grinding back. He stirred, hand sliding to her mound, fingers dipping into remnants of last night’s cream pie.
“Round two?” he murmured, voice sleep-rough. She nodded, rolling atop, impaling on his length—slow sink, stretch anew. Rode him languidly, breasts bouncing, his hands kneading, pinching rosy tips. Coffee brewed distant, forgotten; focus on friction, glide of hardness through velvet grip.
Door creaked—flashback to tension building weeks prior. Sophia catching them cuddling post-movie, her suggestive grin. “Show her right, Marc.” Permission unspoken, but given. Back in present, Lila bounced faster, clit grinding base, moans rising. He thrust up, brutal now, chasing peak.
Flipped to missionary, legs over shoulders, pounding deep—cervix kisses sparking stars. “Love fucking my girl,” he grunted. “Yours,” she wailed, nails raking chest. Dual climax crashed, bodies seizing, fluids mixing anew.
After, showered together—water cascading steamy rivulets over soapy skin. Soaped each other languorously, his fingers probing ass. “Ever tried here?” She shook head, intrigued. Lathered fingers eased in, scissoring, her gasps echoing tile. Bent over sink, he entered slow—burn stretching to ecstasy, railing her rear while hand worked front.
Overstimulated, she squirted, clear arcs hitting mirror. He pulled out, painting cheeks with thick ropes. Collapsed laughing, soapy, bonded deeper.
Chapter 6: Departure and Lingering Heat
Packing midday, cabin reeked of marathon sex—musk baked into wood. Lila folded dresses, flashing bare pussy, teasing. Marcus pinned her against counter one last time, eating her out on granite—cool edge biting thighs, tongue delving sticky folds, lapping his own seed mixed with fresh dew.
“Can’t get enough,” he admitted, vulnerability cracking baritone. She cupped his face, serious now. “Neither can I. College won’t compare.” Kissed soft, emotional undercurrents swirling—guilt flickering, drowned by love-warped lust.
Drove home windows down, wind whipping hair, hands linked over console. Lake shrank in mirror, memory steaming eternally. Sophia greeted casual, eyes twinkling at their glow. “Good lesson?” Marcus nodded, pulling Lila close publicly now. Future dates loomed, but this bond? Unbreakable, filthy, profound.
Night fell city-sharp, but in bed later—Sophia asleep aside—their fingers intertwined under sheets, promising more steamy secrets. Desire’s fire banked, not quenched.
