My Mom's Fiance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Read online

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” I huffed, trying to hide how affected I was by our sex and the easy way I’d given in to him. Again.

  “I didn’t want to step away and miss a minute of your gorgeous ass draped over my desk.” Then he frowned like he wasn’t expecting himself to say that. He turned away. “You use it first then I’ll have a shower before my next meeting.”

  Grateful to have a moment to myself, I rushed into the bathroom to clean myself up properly. But in the end, I couldn’t do anything about his cum in my ass. Every time I cleaned it off, more drizzled out my ass to coat my thighs. Eventually, I just dragged on my panties, washed my hands, and got out of the bathroom.

  I didn’t pause on my way out the door to say anything else to Jake. Everything that had to be said between us had already been said, and it changed nothing.

  I was fucking my stepdad. And neither of us seemed to want to stop it.

  July 30 – I went to my mom’s (and Jake’s) bridal shower. And he had the temerity to tell me to calm down! What the hell?!?

  The girl’s form quivered, entire body shaking. So I swept in.

  “Chill? Really?” She stared at me like I was the enemy. “Is that how you really want me to react to this fucked up situation? There’s no way I can pretend everything is normal while I’m fucking my goddamn stepfather.”

  “I’m not your step father,” I said, gritting my teeth. Why was she making such a big deal out of this? “At last not yet.”

  “No, but it’s only a matter of a few days. Mom is more excited than ever and I don’t see you trying to call off the wedding.”

  Her voice was getting louder with each word and more than a few pairs of eyes were starting to drift our way.

  “Don’t be so loud.”

  “Don’t be so loud?!” Just to spite me, her voice got even louder. No way she was doing this shit right there in front of everybody. “Let’s talk about this someplace else.”

  August 15 – Why in the world does he only use my ass? Jake explained to me today, and I’m not sure how I feel.

  I swallowed and slowly regained my senses as the tremors from my orgasm gradually faded away. My twat still throbbed though, empty and wanting. Wanting Jake’s cock.

  But he never wanted to take my pussy. All he ever did was fuck my ass. Every single time we were together. It was good, but why didn’t he take the thing that most guys seemed to want? My cunt ached for him and, more than once, I’d practically thrown it into his lap to fuck. But he never took it.

  Why?

  Was something wrong with me or my pussy that he never wanted to fuck me that way?

  Tears stung my eyes. I stumbled to my feet to turn off the water and it abruptly stopped, leaving the bathroom in silence.

  Why?

  My questions echoed over and over in my head without an answer.

  August 20 – We went to the strip club today for Jake and Amanda’s co-bachelor / bachelorette parties. It was a disaster.

  How fucked up was it that my stepdaughter was the one who made me want to be faithful and not the woman I was supposed to marry. I sighed and raked a hand through my hair.

  Agitated for all the wrong reasons, I watched Amanda make a fool of herself in front of the strippers who very obviously didn’t want to touch all over her like that, at least not unless she let go of the wad of cash she had clenched between her teeth and occasionally shoved into their crotches.

  I should probably care more, but I already knew the truth. Amanda wasn’t my type of woman at all.

  In the beginning, her elegant designer suits and head-bitch-in-charge attitude had me completely fooled, which wasn’t something all that easy to do. But I saw what I wanted to see. And then there was Lacey, her hot little daughter with the tight ass and innocent ways. I didn’t want to see myself with her for anything more than a hot dick-and-slit session, she was so damn sweet. Fuck, too sweet. But more and more, I couldn’t imagine anything else.

  August 15 – And when I tried to talk to Jake at the strip club, he brushed me off. WTF?!?

  “A bachelor and bachelorette party at the same time? Who even does that?" Her smile switched on and off from her nervousness.

  I shrugged instead of doing what I wanted to do, which was drag her into my lap and kiss the uncertainty off her face. This girl was driving me straight to madness with lust. A guy like me shouldn't be getting infatuated, not at this damn age.

  But she did it to me. My hormones were raging and I was horny like crazy. I couldn't get her out of my head and I wanted to touch her all the time.

  Shit, I hadn't felt like this since I was in middle school. And back then it sure as hell wasn't this bad.

  "Who knows?" I drawled lazily. "This was Amanda’s idea. Probably something she saw on one of those reality shows where they take off for Cancun."

  "Yeah. Those shows discuss the modern marriage and how the modern couple should be with each other. They’re not all bad. It’s actually got some interesting tips for making a successful and happy marriage work." She blushed and looked away, and it was adorable as hell to see the color rush into her cheeks. She looked young and inexperienced. Like someone I should shelter from the depraved people in the world, including me.

  "So you watch that stuff too, huh?" I teased her just to see if that color would stay in her face. She wasn't wearing any lipstick and some of that rosiness took over her lips too.

  Fuck, what I'd give to be able to kiss her right now.

  "Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?" She looked more than a little uncomfortable.

  In the dark of the club with only the spotlights on the strippers and the people drunk or crazy enough to get up on the stage with them, the rest of the place was in nearly complete darkness. But lights here and there bright enough that people could walk from place to place without tripping over each other or the strippers littered everywhere like party-sized bags of confetti. It was enough light for me to see Lacey and every gorgeous inch of her. I realized I was staring like a creep when she blushed even harder and looked away. She took a big breath and her eyes squeeze tight for a second before she opened her mouth to say what was on her mind.

  August 31 – I’ve been saving a bowl of Jake’s cum. It’s nasty I know, but it’s the new me.

  I stared at him in shock. Was he telling the truth? Did it matter?

  The entire time I'd known him, Jake had controlled me and controlled everything we did together. He always fucked my ass even though I constantly threw my pussy back at him for him to fuck. He was the one to start our downward slide into sex. But this time, I wanted to be the one in control.

  Just like the first time when I'd approached him and he asked me to trust him by climbing into his lap while being surrounded by an entire club full of people, I wanted him to do something for me that showed his trust. And that showed he was willing to give me something back for all the times I had submitted to him without question.

  I thought of the glass bowl inside the fridge, shivering with excitement and a touch of lust.

  At first, I didn't know what to do with it. But eventually, I put it in the fridge, covered it with aluminum foil and marked it with a warning, “DO NOT TOUCH” in giant letters, so my roommates wouldn't see it and try to drink it warmed up over their cereal or spread on their toast like butter.

  It was sick and twisted. If sleeping with my stepfather didn't prove it, then keeping his goopy and sticky cum in my fridge certainly did. Did he make me this way, or had I always been this crazy girl who’d bend over for her step daddy while panting for it like a whore?

  The air conditioner in the library blasted over me again and made shiver through my sweatshirt. I looked down at my book again. But after reading the same paragraph for the eighth time and still not understanding what it said, I realized I wasn't doing anything good by being in the library.

  Jake's constant injections of cum in my ass had just about killed my ability to think clearly. I wasn't doing anything here in the library that
I couldn't do at home. At least there I could eat some of the ice cream my best friends had brought me back from their recent trip to Vermont. I packed up and left the library for the long walk back to my dorm room.

  September 15 – Jake and I did the nasty. Again. But this time he pushed that cold, wet cum into my asshole. Who says I’m the only dirty one?

  I groaned and pushed back into the sensation of his cold jizz warming up against my skin and inside my bunghole.

  "How does that feel, princess? As good as it did going in the first time?" His voice sounded so rough, so good, like he was enjoying the kinkiness of pushing his cum back into me just as I was. I never imagined something like this would feel so good.

  “It does, Jake! It does. I want more. Stick your fingers deeper into my ass.” I gasped and jerked my hips, overcome with pleasure. On my back, I felt the cum bowl jerk and start to slide off, but Jake caught it and put it on the bed.

  The sound of his belt buckle and his zipper cut through my slutty moans. He was going to touch himself. And I imagined him stroking his thick meat and unloading a fresh load of cum on my back and my ass to mix with the old cum in the bowl. “Uuh!” The lust was wild in me, taking me over like a fever. “Touch yourself, Jake! Shoot your spunk all over me!”

  He grunted and I felt his hand pull away from his dick. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum in my pants. You’re so hot like this!”

  ***

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  Temptation

  ~Loving My Ward~

  (An Erotic Romance)

  © 2017

  By Cassandra Dee

  DEDICATION

  For all the ladies who gave into their dark sides. Wasn’t it nice?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Daisy

  I’ve always been unpopular, the one hiding out in the library, picked last for all the sports teams. But I don’t blame my classmates. After all, whichever team I was on was practically guaranteed to lose.

  “Throw it to Daisy,” opponents would whisper. “Hit the ball to Daisy, she’s got two left hands.”

  And it was true. I was so gangly and clumsy that if the ball even sort-of sailed in my direction, I ducked and ran instead of catching and throwing. So I felt personally responsible whenever my team lost, grateful when the bell rang signaling the end of P.E.

  But physical education was the least of it. Sometimes, I didn’t feel like I was good at anything. The bowls I molded in ceramics class were lopsided and floppy, the articles I wrote for the school newspaper never seemed to get published, and I was pretty much an outcast, eating lunch alone most days. In fact, there were entire weeks where I put my head down and hoped to disappear, trying to keep out of everyone’s way.

  But the last year has been eye-opening because I grew curves, the good kind. At first, it was just my boobs popping out to Double Ds, but my ass and thighs followed, and pretty soon I had an hourglass figure like the kind you see in old-time movies. Once upon a time, heroines were size twelves and proud of it, flaunting their god-given assets instead of hiding them under big jackets and smocks. And even if my figure’s not popular per se, it still changed my life because I feel more confident, and people can sense the vibes. Some kids invited me to be in their study group, I have a lab partner who actually treats me decent, and best of all, I’ve made a couple friends. Okay, maybe I don’t know these girls that well yet, but you know what? It’s nice to be part of a group for a change.

  “Oh my god, did you see Nelson Peters the other day?” whispered Natalie, a bubbly blonde with a slightly crooked nose. “He looked sooo hot in his letter jacket.”

  We were hanging out by the fountain in front of school and Trina, the top dog of our group, snorted, scrunching her perfect ski slope nose and letting out an unladylike harrumph.

  “He wears his letter jacket every day Nat, it’s nothing new,” she remarked sarcastically, twirling a lock of platinum hair around her finger while snapping her gum, looking bored. Trina has been queen bee since freshman year, holding court after school each day in front of the fountain and I was excited to be there that afternoon, part of the clique surrounding her, standing in a semi-circle of supplicants.

  “Oh right,” squealed Natalie. “Well, Nelson looks good, he’s really rockin’ football this year, Coach says he’s going to be a starter.”

  Trina just snorted again.

  “Don’t get your panties in a scrunch because you never know what’ll happen,” scoffed Trina. “Besides, high school boys are boring.”

  High school boys are boring? That was new, I’ve never been asked out by a boy of any age before. But I wanted to belong, so I said the first thing that popped into my mind.

  “Yeah, I agree, teenage boys can be so boring,” I said almost in a whisper, looking around, not even sure that anyone could even hear. And it seemed that no one had, continuing their own conversations, animatedly talking about this or that.

  Except Trina heard. She cast me an odd look before tossing out, “Yeah, I’m not into Pokémon Go or whatever the new shit is with these guys,” she said. “I like real men.”

  I smiled at her.

  “Me too, real men rock,” I said a little more boldly.

  Trina stared at me even harder then.

  “Who are you again?” she asked. By now, more girls had turned towards us and were listening, watching avidly.

  I hesitated for a moment.

  “I’m Daisy Smith, I have English with a bunch of you guys,” I said, swallowing suddenly. I’d never felt the full force of the group’s gaze on me and it was uncomfortable, like being in a powerful tractor beam, unable to budge.

  But Trina snapped her gum again, looking at me thoughtfully before smirking.

  “Well you’re about to get your chance because a real man is coming,” she grinned lasciviously. “Daisy Smith, why don’t you go talk with Mr. Ranger? You said you were in English with us right? He’s coming around the corner, go strike up a conversation.”

  And I flushed. Because John Ranger is a new teacher to the district, a recent grad who couldn’t have been more than in his late twenties. He was great at his job, explaining books to a bunch of kids who had no interest whatsoever in plot development or other literary devices. But Mr. Ranger definitely had the attention of his female pupils because he was built like a tank with muscles popping out everywhere. Personally, I didn’t think it was attractive, his muscles had muscles, but there was definitely a contingent of teenage girls who swooned whenever he walked past.

  “Yeah go talk to him,” squeaked Maria, another hanger-on. “Go! Go! He’s coming, he’s coming.”

  And she practically pushed me onto the walkway, my round body tumbling forwards, boobs bouncing up and down. I shook my head frantically, frantically making my way back to the group when Trina’s voice cut like a knife through the air.

  “Get his special pen,” her voice taunted in my ears, “or get lost.”

  And I whirled around, eyes wide in shock. His special pen? Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Mr. Ranger had a blue pen that he did everything with, from grading papers to writing up summaries. There was nothing remarkable about it except it was inscribed with the date of his college graduation, May 2010. He carried it everywhere with him, whirling it in the air, passing it through his fingers like a baton. And I could see it poking out of his breast pocket even now, the blue tip a small dot against his overly-muscled chest.

  “I can’t!” I gasped, “He’d notice immediately. I can’t take that from him!”

  But Trina just smirked again.

  “You will or don’t come back,” she said nastily, whirling around like a haughty princess, blonde hair flying. And the other girls did the same, tittering behind their hands before turning away as well, pretending like they weren’t watching.

  I choked a
bit. This was the Twilight Zone, I was caught in some sort of sick rite of passage, making me walk through fire to be part of the group. Had the other girls suffered the same? Had they all had to prove themselves somehow, offer themselves up as sacrificial lambs before “fitting in”? I flushed. I didn’t want to do this, I was still new in my skin, unsure of myself and didn’t want to talk to anyone in front of the judgmental eyes of the clique.

  But on the other hand, the Queen Bee had just spoken to me for the first time, and I had to reply. It was life and death, my entire social career on the brink of collapse before even beginning. So I took a deep breath and braced myself.

  “Hi Mr. Ranger,” I said, stepping into the big man’s path, putting a shiny smile on my face. I half expected him to brush by me, ignoring me, my self-esteem was that low.

  But my new body is like a magnet for men, even guys who are allegedly off-limits.

  “Heya,” the musclehead said, blue eyes peering out from that overly-bronzed face. Had Mr. Ranger used a tanning lotion of some sort? My nose wrinkled involuntarily, filled with the scent of coconut and some type of citrus. Oh my god! He was using Hawaiian Tropic, and I could see a tell-tale brown drip staining his collar. But this was no time to dilly-dally, I had work to get done, so taking another deep breath, I went for it.

  “I really like the book we’re reading in class, Pride and …” I stumbled. Oh shit, what was that book called again? It was some Victorian classic, pretty good actually, but I couldn’t remember what the title was. It was Pride and something. Pride and the Pauper? Pride and the Prince? Oh shit, oh shit, my cheeks flushed and I bit my lip.

  But Mr. Ranger seemed amused more than anything else.