The next morning, I stirred awake far too late, the sun already streaming through the curtains like a golden invitation to sin. It was well past nine, and the memories of our reckless night flooded back—Daddy's thick c**k stretching me wide, his hands pinning me down as he claimed every inch of my body. My cheeks burned with a deep blush as I rushed through a quick bath, the hot water doing little to wash away the ache between my thighs. I brushed my teeth, threw on a thin tank top and shorts, and hurried downstairs to the living room, the air thick with the aroma of fresh coffee.
Step-Daddy stood by the kitchen counter, his broad back to me, brewing a pot with those strong hands that had gripped my hips so fiercely just hours ago. The sight of him made my p***y clench involuntarily, heat
