by Danielle Lux
“Where am I Dad?” he asked, his eyes swaying in their sockets.
“You drank too much, Alan,” I told him, passing him a glass of water. “You’ve gotta come out drinking with me more often, to get you used to beer.”
“Is Emma ok?” he asked.
“She’s fine. She’s a better drinker than you are.”
“That’s… that’s good…”
Then the poor kid closed his eyes and went to sleep. Alan, like Emma, was in his early twenties, but he still acted like a teenager. Kid couldn’t even handle his drink.
When I went back outside, Emma came up to me.
“Is Alan ok?” she asked. “Maybe I should go up and be with him.”
“Nah, stay out here,” I told her. “He’s fast asleep. Stay out here and enjoy the party.”
I reached into a nearby cooler and handed her another beer.
“Ok, I guess so,” she smiled, cracking open the can. Unlike Alan, Emma could handle her booze. She was a good laugh too, the life and soul of the party, and all the other guests—many of whom had never met her before—all loved her.
The more I drank the more I couldn’t stop staring at Emma. Christ, she was gorgeous. How had my son ever managed to bag a girl like her? I was seized by an uncontrollable desire to claim her as my own; to ravish her and make her scream my name. The little voice inside my head telling me that I shouldn’t try and seduce my son’s wife was getting smaller by the second.
I finished my beer and crunched the can up in my fist. I’d made my decision. My son’s wife or not, I was going to try and seduce Emma. Hell I wasn’t just going to try and seduce her, I was going to seduce her. My son was out for the count and my wife was drunk and chatting with her friends. It was now or never.
“Hey Emma,” I said, going over to her, “can I have a quick word with you inside?”
“Sure Mr Peters—I mean, Dan.”
This time I definitely caught her taking a look at the bulge in my swimming trunks. She was too drunk to hide it.
This girl was going to be mine.
*
“What did you want to talk to me about, Dan?”
I’d brought Emma into my private study. From the naughty look on her face I could see she must have her suspicions about why I wanted to speak to her in private.
I decided to be blunt.
“I want to fuck you, Emma,” I said. “No-one ever has to know, but I want to fuck you.”
“Mr Peters!” Emma said, a slight smile playing across her lips. “I’m married to your son.”
“I don’t care,” I told her, then walked over to her, pinning her against the wall. She was almost a foot shorter than I was. “I want you. I want to bend you over my desk right now and pound you.”
Emma paused for a second, looking me dead in the eye.
“Alan can never know,” she said.
“He won’t.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she purred.
I pushed her against the wall, hitching her leg up and kissing her. Her mouth opened to greet mine, our tongues wrestling in each other’s mouths.
“You’re a dirty dog, aren’t you?” Emma whispered in my ear as I kissed her neck. “Taking advantage of your son’s drunk wife.”
“I’m not taking advantage of anyone,” I replied, “you want this as much as I do.”
I lifted up her skirt and shoved my fingers roughly into her panties. Emma gasped.
“See?” I said. “You’re already wet.”
I slipped a couple of fingers into her sopping wet cunt, enjoying the look on her face as I started finger fucking her.
“You like that?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Oh yes.”
With my other hand I pulled her top up, exposing her bra, then pulled the right bra cup up so I could see her right breast. It was so juicy and plump, without a hint of sagging. God I love girls in their twenties.
“Suck it,” Emma begged. I did as she requested, leaning down and taking her juicy red nipple in my mouth, sucking at it hungrily.
“Oh god,” Emma gasped, as I fingered her and fed on her breast, “keep doing that, keep doing that!”
Suddenly I felt a wet squirt of warm pussy juice dripping down my wrist. I looked up and saw Emma’s mouth hanging open.
“You… made me cum…” she gasped. “Alan never makes me cum…”
“There’s a lot more where that came from,” I told her, standing up and kissing her again, holding her face in my hands. God her luscious, plump lips felt good. She was a great kisser, but I wanted those lips somewhere else now.
I pushed Emma back against the wall, then unzipped and pulled out my cock. Emma’s eyes went wide.
“Holy shit!” she gasped. “I could tell you were huge from that bulge you’ve been walking around with all day, but… holy shit!”
“Bigger than Alan?” I asked, knowing the answer already from the look on her face.
“Uh… yeah!” she replied, unable to take her eyes off my member. I’d only been half-erect when I pulled it out, but it was quickly reaching full mast, thanks to Emma’s comments and the hungry look in her eyes.
“Suck it,” I ordered her.
Emma didn’t need telling twice. She got down on her knees and took me in her mouth. Those thick lips felt so good wrapped around my shaft, and I loved the way she looked up at me, her eyes begging for approval.
“Good girl,” I told her. “Good girl.”
I could hear the noise of the party going on outside. Thankfully the music was pretty loud, which meant Emma and I could be pretty loud as well…
I felt a throbbing in my balls—holy shit, this little bitch was so good she was going to make me cum already! But I didn’t want to finish yet, I still had her little pussy to fuck. I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head off my cock.
“Ow,” Emma said, “what did I do?”
“Get up,” I said. She stood up, and I bent her face first over my desk, hitching up her skirt.
“Fuck me,” Emma said.
“What the hell do you think I’m going to do?” I said. “Don’t give me orders.”
“Yes Daddy,” Emma purred.
Daddy. Fuck I loved when girls called me that. I thought about Alan, upstairs asleep while I had his wife bent over my desk. Any feelings of guilt I had had disappeared now, and I felt the usual feeling of lust and pride that I always felt when about to fuck another man’s woman, claiming her pussy as my own.
“You want this dick?” I asked Emma, rubbing the fat head of my glans against her pussy lips, teasing her.
“Please,” she said, “put it in!”
I pushed forward, my cock parting Emma’s flaps like the Red Sea, stretching her open with my girth.
“Oh Daddy…” she gasped. “It hurts! I’ve never had one this big!”
“You’ll get used to it,” I told her. “It’s going back to my little dick son after this that you should worry about. He’ll wonder how your cunt got so stretched.”
Grabbing her juicy ass cheeks, I thrust forward, sliding my length into her until I ran out of cock. Emma let out a long, breathless moan. Her legs were shaking.
“I won’t be able to feel Alan after you!” she gasped. “I’ve… I’ve never felt so full… Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me!”
I pulled out… then slammed back into her.
“What…”
I slammed into her again.
“Did I…”
And again.
“Tell you…”
And again.
“About giving me orders?”
“Sorry Daddy,” she whimpered.
I started pounding her, slamming into her tight cunt as she moaned and squealed, telling me how good I was, how much better I was than her husband and all the other men she’d been with. It wasn’t long until she had her second orgasm of the night, her cunt juicing all over my big cock as she groaned with pleasure.
I thought about how my son was upstairs and a
ll our guests were outside, oblivious to what was going on here. It was such a fucking turn on.
Moving Emma round, I lifted her up on the desk so she was facing me, her legs wrapped round my back as I fucked her to another orgasm.
“I never knew I could cum like this,” she gasped. “You’re so… good! So… big!”
Then I heard a voice that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Dan? Dan where are you?”
Shit, it was my wife— and from the sound of it she was inside the house.
I was about to pull out of Emma, but I could feel my balls throbbing—I was so close to cumming.
“Keep fucking quiet,” I warned her, putting a hand over her mouth, then I fucked her pussy at super speed. Emma moaned and squealed, but thankfully my hand blocked the noise.
Finally I came, spurting rope after rope of thick white cum into the depths of her pussy. It struck me that we really should have used a condom, but it was a bit late now. Hopefully the girl was on birth control, as I’d dumped a truly massive load inside her.
I pulled out and took my hand away from Emma’s mouth.
“Fucking hell,” she gasped. “I thought you were going to rip me in two.”
“Get dressed,” I ordered her.
The two of us hastily got dressed, then I opened the door—just in time, as my wife was right outside.
“Where have you been?” my wife asked. “Oh, hello Emma.”
“Emma was just feeling a bit sick,” I said, “I was giving her some aspirin from my drawer.”
“You poor thing,” my wife said, putting her arm round Emma. “I’ve think you’ve probably had enough to drink now, darling.”
“I think so too, Mrs Peters,” Emma said. “I think I’m going to go for a lie down upstairs now.”
Emma left—giving me a cheeky wink behind my wife’s back, going upstairs to join her husband, my son.
“Those two really can’t handle their booze,” my wife said, putting her arm around me.
“No they can’t,” I said. “We’ll have to see them more often. I need to take Alan out, get him used to drinking beer.”
I thought of Alan asleep upstairs. I loved him, but I felt no guilt about what I’d done with Emma. If he’d been more of a man, I would never have been able to take her from him. He needed to be more of an alpha male. Maybe I could teach him a thing or two.
“Anyway,” my wife said, “shall we go back outside? We’ve still got guests here, you know.”
“Of course, gorgeous,” I said, giving her a pat on the ass. “You lead the way.
THE END
Cuckolding my Weak Husband
(Pregnant by my Father-in-Law 5)
“Please don’t do this, Mary,” James begged me again. “I know I can get you pregnant. We just have to keep trying!”
I shook my head.
“No James. We’ve been trying for six months. You’ve had your chance. Now it’s time for another man to try.”
James burst into tears.
“How can you be so cruel?”
I had no answer to that. I didn’t see this as cruelty, merely necessity. Since James was unable to give me the pregnancy I wanted, I naturally had to go elsewhere. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, seeing him crying like this, a broken shell of a man.
“Nobody apart from the three of us will know,” I reminded him. “As far as the world is concerned, you’ll be the father.”
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” James said.
“You do what you have to,” I said. “You’re welcome to leave me, of course, if you can’t handle what this will mean for our relationship. I would understand if you did, although I would be upset.”
“Yeah right,” James said, “as if anything could upset you.”
I was hurt by this. Although many people, including my husband, often saw me as cold, I really did love James. But I had no choice: I wanted to give birth, and this was the only way. I didn’t want to go for treatment or try IVF, I wanted to conceive in the natural way.
I stood up and kissed James on the forehead.
“I hope you can come to accept this,” I said. “I want us to be parents together, like we always dreamed.”
“But I won’t even be the father,” James sniffled, “it’ll be his! Of all the people you could have picked!”
“He has strong genes. He recently fathered another kid, and he has eleven already, at least the ones we know about.”
“I know!” James spat. “I’m one of them!”
“Is everything ok?”
A huge, muscular figure stood in the doorway—it was James’s dad, Paul.
“No, Paul,” I said, “I’ll be up in a moment.”
“You know, we don’t have to do this,” Paul said. “Let me know if you two have changed your minds.”
“We want to do it,” I said. “Go back upstairs. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Paul smirked, giving James a wink before leaving the room.
“He’s such a dickhead,” James whimpered. “He’s been a dickhead to me my whole life, and now my wife’s going to…”
He trailed off, choking with tears before he could finish.
“It’s not about personality,” I told him. “It’s about getting the best genes. Paul is strong and fit, plus we know he’s fertile.”
“He’s my fucking father!” James roared. “Sometimes I think you’re autistic or something. How can you do this to me?”
“I’m just being logical,” I said. But I could see that trying to convince James was a lost cause.
I lifted his head up with a finger under his chin, then kissed him on the lips.
“One day you’ll thank me for this,” I said.
“No I bloody won’t.”
“You will, when we have a happy little family of our own. I promise.”
I left the room and closed the door behind me, leaving James wallowing in his misery. He would thank me one day. I knew it.
Then I made my way upstairs to the bedroom—the bedroom I normally shared with James. But when I walked in it wasn’t James sitting on the bed, it was his father.
“Hey,” Paul said. “How’s the little crybaby doing?”
Paul was an cruel brute of a man. He had impregnated various different women over the years, cheating constantly. He was nasty and selfish, but there was no denying there was something irresistible about him. As logical as I prided myself on being, even I found my eyes drawn to his huge muscles, honed from years of working on building sites, and his handsome, movie star-like face. Even though he was in his late fifties, he still had a full head a silver hair as well, with not a trace of balding.
He was always smirking too. The arrogant smirk of a man who always got what he wanted. He was a terrible father too. All his kids hated him—James especially, as Paul had left his mother when she was pregnant with him, leaving her without money or support.
However, Paul being a terrible father made him an ideal candidate for my needs. I needed a man who wouldn’t attempt to get involved at all after the birth. From everything I’d heard about Paul from James over the years, and the few times I’d met him, I knew he was the man for the job. And Paul had similar DNA to James too. As I kept telling James, this was the most logical solution by far.
“Take off your clothes,” I told Paul. I wanted to get on with this: there was no point in drawing it out for longer than needed.
Smirking as ever, Paul started getting undressed. As he unbuttoned his shirt, I couldn’t help but gasp as I got my first glimpse of his muscular physique.
“Enjoying the show?” Paul said. “My eyes are up here.”
I scowled, angry at myself for giving his ego even more of a boost.
I tried to maintain a detached expression as I watched Paul remove his clothes. I couldn’t say how convincing I was, but I could feel my mouth watering as he pulled off his shirt, exposing his big arms covered in tattoos, and my vagina was practically dripping by the time he go
t down to his boxers.
This is what a man should look like, I thought.
“These too?” Paul asked, fingering the elastic waistband of his boxers. His smirk was out of control now, and I could tell he was eager to show me his penis. From the bulge in the fabric, I could tell he was packing something considerable.
