The Dirty Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

“On your knees,” he ground out, his voice low and commanding.

“Oh Drake,” said my mom breezily. “You’re so funny! Only lazy women do what their men say, I’m an independent woman now.”

“Fuck you bitch,” he rumbled again. “Get on your knees.”

And I’d heard my mom dropping down to the carpet, no doubt pouting like a spoiled brat. But the whining didn’t stop there.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” he growled.

I heard a shriek from my mom, probably because he’d grabbed her hair, and forced it in rough. That thick, ten inch cock out, ready to do damage on her throat and mouth … mmmmm.

But my mom wasn’t having any of it.

“No Drake!” she cried. “I just got veneers, my teeth are going to rub off on your dick, tonight’s not a good night!” she squealed helplessly, her voice going up about an octave.

With a massive roar of anger, Drake must have thrust my mom to the side, I heard a triumphant giggle as my mom stood up. Daddy had evidently given up, the veneer excuse too ridiculous and a fucking turn-off.

“Bitch,” he ground out, heavy footsteps fast approaching the door.

I jumped back and made like I’d just happened to be passing by, but it was too late. When the door swung open and my stepdad saw me, I think he knew that I’d overheard their exchange. “Hi … hi Daddy,” I said in a small voice.

Drake didn’t utter a word, instead striding down the hall in long, sure steps to his study, slamming the door behind him. But I’d seen that dong. Still erect, it’d strained at his fly, the length so thick and long that it wrapped all the way around his hip, the bulge making my mouth salivate.

And oh god … I wanted it. Wanted it bad.



A knock came on my study door.

“Daddy?” a little voice called.

Fuck! This was such awful timing, I couldn’t believe Cleo had overheard my humiliation at the hands of her mom. Lorena had fucking gotten out of hand, and I was about to dial my lawyer to divorce her. Why did Cleo have to interrupt now?

But my thoughts turned to my little step. Truth be told, I was starting to notice her more and more. It wasn’t just the way that she was the complete opposite of her mom, in looks and demeanor. It was her youth, her freshness, that untouched teen beauty that only the young have. I sighed. Fuck, this was my step-daughter. It felt like a crime to even think about her like this.

But I called out, “Come,” and Cleo let herself in.

I scanned her outfit, letting my gaze linger briefly on her ass and her tits. Damn, how things had changed in a year! When she’d moved in, she’d been all knobby knees, buckteeth, with wild frizzy hair, looking like the proverbial red-headed stepchild.

But she’d changed and matured … in the best way possible. The hair had darkened to a gorgeous chestnut, complemented by creamy skin and jade-green, slanted eyes. There was a spattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose, and her body, oh god, her body.

Obviously, Cleo dressed to show it off. She was wearing a short plaid skirt that ended just below her puss, with fishnets underneath and a tight baby tee top which outlined her curvy breasts and tiny waist. When had my little girl gotten so delicious?

Sensing my gaze, she moved further into the office.

“Daddy …” she began slowly. In the beginning, I was annoyed when she called me Daddy, I wasn’t exactly the paternal type. But now … now it sounded fucking sensuous and dirty.

“Daddy,” she began again. “What’s going on between you and Mom?” she asked slowly.

I sighed. Whining about a sexless marriage wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do, especially to my tantalizing teen stepdaughter. I mean, it’s a fucking embarrassing situation. Billionaire marries housemaid, only to have her turn into lazy ass wife once the papers were signed. I was such a cliché.

“Nothing, baby,” I said soothingly, adjusting my crotch ever so slightly. “Nothing to worry about.”

“You know Daddy,” she said, sidling closer to my desk. “I want you to be happy, and if I can help, just let me know,” she said, giving me a meaningful look.

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