DIRTY DREAMS (AN EROTICA COLLECTION)

STORY 3-SURRENDERING MY BODY TO MY

STEPFATHER (I)

The visits started when I was eighteen.

“Just checking on you,” he said the first time I pretended to wake up, blinking at him in the doorway. “Making/su you’re sleeping well.”

But he didn’t leave right away. He sat on the edge of my bed and watched me breathe. I kept my eyes closed, heart pounding, wondering what he was thinking. What he was planning. What he wanted from me that he couldn’t askorin daylight.

The next night, he touched my hair.

The night after that, my shoulder.

By nineteen, he was touching places stepfathers don’t touch, and I kept pretending to sleep because stopping him would mean acknowledging what we were doing. Would mean having a conversation neither of us was ready for.

So I stayed still. Let him explore. Learned to control my breathing even when his fingers found places that made me want to gasp.

That was four years ago.

I’m twenty-two now.

Four years of night visits. Four years of lying still while Marcus explores my body in the dark. Four years of pretend sleep while he takes what he needs and leaves before dawn.

I’ve become an expert at faking unconsciousness. I know exactly how deeply asleep people breathe, how their eyelids flutter, how their bodies twitch. I know how to orgasm silently – something I learned out of necessity the first time his fingers found my clit and worked me until I came without making a sound.

I’ve memorized the creak of the third floorboard from my door. The soft click of the latch. The whisper of fabric as he undresses. The dip of the mattress under his weight.

Some nights he just touches. Traces his fingers over my body like he’s memorizing me. Slides the blankets down to look at whatever I’m wearing – or not wearing. I started sleeping in less and less as the years went on. Tank tops. Panties. Sometimes nothing at all.

Some nights he does more.

His fingers inside me while I breathe slowly, evenly, pretending I don’t feel the stretch. His mouth on my nipples while I fight to keep my face slack. His cock against my thigh, my stomach, my lips – never inside, not yet, but close. So close.

He always pulls away before going too far. Always leaves before dawn. Always pretends, when we see each other over breakfast, that nothing happened.

And I play along. Because that’s what we do. Find the original chapter at novelceo . com.

Tonight, though… tonight I’m done pretending.

The third floorboard creaks.

I keep my breathing steady. My eyes closed. My body loose and pliant under the thin sheet that barely covers me.

DIRTY DREAMS (AN EROTICA COLLECTION)

I wore nothing to bed tonight. Just skin. Just invitation.

door clicks open.

I hear him pause in the doorway – probably looking at me, the way he always does. Cataloguing. Planning. Deciding what he’ll allow himself tonight.

Soft footsteps. He’s barefoot, like always. Doesn’t want to make noise.

The whisper of fabric. He’s undressing. I’ve never seen him during these visits – always kept my eyes closed- but Felt him. Know he strips down to nothing. Know his body is harder than a man his age should be, maintained with the ind of discipline that speaks to military background.

The mattress dips.

He’s beside me now. Close enough that I can feel his body heat. Close enough that I can smell him – soap and something underneath, something male and wanting.

His hand finds my shoulder.

Traces down my arm.

Back up.

Across my collarbone.

Lower.

The sheet is pulled away slowly, inch by inch, revealing my naked body to the moonlight streaming through the window.

I feel his gaze travel over me – my breasts, my stomach, the trimmed patch of hair between my legs that I maintain because I learned years ago he likes it that way. He’s seen me like this hundreds of times, but his breath still catches. His want is still palpable in the darkness.

The mattress dips as he settles beside me. Visit novelсeo.com for the full chapter.

His hand finds my breast first. Always my breast first – he’s predictable that way, has been since the beginning. He cups me gently, testing the weight, then squeezes. His thumb brushes my nipple and it hardens instantly, betraying me even in my “sleep.”

He makes a soft sound of satisfaction.

His mouth replaces his hand.

Warm lips close around my nipple. His tongue circles, flicks, teases until I’m aching. His other hand finds my other breast- kneading, pinching, rolling my nipple between his fingers while he sucks the first one into his mouth hard enough to make me want to gasp.

I don’t gasp. Don’t move. Four years of practice keeps my body still while he worships my tits in the darkness.

He switches sides. Takes my other nipple into his mouth, sucks it to a hard peak, bites down gently. His hand slides down my stomach now – tracing the curves he’s memorized, the path he’s travelled so many times before.

Lower.

Lower.

His fingers find the slickness between my thighs.

DIRTY DREAMS (AN EROTICA COLLECTION)

I’m drenched. Have been since I heard the floorboard creak, since I knew he was coming for me again. My body prepares for him automatically now – pavlovian response to four years of conditioning.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quiet I almost miss it. His fingers slide through my wetness, parting my folds, spreading my arousal. He’s always surprised by how wet I am. Always thinks it’s an unconscious response.

It’s not.

It’s want. Pure, desperate want.

His finger circles my clit.

My breathing stays even. My face stays slack. But inside I’m screaming, desperate for more pressure, more friction more of him.

He gives it to me.

DIRTY DREAMS (AN EROTICA COLLECTION)

STORY 3 – SURRENDERING MY BODY TO MY