Page 6 of Sinister Legacy
Sometimes I think that’s why I’m here, fucking her best friend. Keira just doesn’t fucking care. She wouldn’t be bothered if I failed to phone her for a week. And that smarts. My ego doesn’t like it one bit. But Cassie, Keira’s best friend, sure likes my cock. She’s writhing beneath me, her pussy pulsing. I don’t have to chase Cassie. She sends me nudes, messages me at all hours, and records videos of herself finger-fucking her pussy. It’s a little desperate, to be honest, but I guess I like the chaseandbeing chased.
She’s delusional if she thinks I’ll leave my girlfriend. In some weird, fucked-up way, I like Keira. She’s also good for my social status. Who else can claim they fuck the daughter of a notorious serial killer?
Cassie comes, and her tight cunt strangles my dick, her loud, muffled moans vibrating against my palm. I fuck her harder, chasing my own orgasm. The phone lights up again, but it’s my own this time, tucked in my jeans pocket. And the ringtone is Keira’s. I come so fucking hard that I see stars while stuffing Cassie full of cum.
“Such a tight cunt,” my stepdad, Allen, groans on a final hard thrust before every muscle in his body stiffens, and he applies more pressure to my head. He likes to fuck me like this, with my ass in the air, a pillow over the back of my head, and my cheek pressed against the mattress.
The first time my stepdad climbed into my bed was on a Friday night. One of the few rare nights I had opted to stay in instead of going out. Cassie tried to drag me to a pool party at Sam’s place—his parents were out of town—but I was too tired and too fed up with being Jimmy Hill’s daughter.
“There’s a good girl,” my stepdad whispers, shattering my thoughts as he slowly slides his dick out, leaving me empty and lonely. I want his thick cock back inside me already. I want him to never stop fucking me. It’s the only time I feelsomething.
His hand slips below the pillow to grip my neck as he drags his fingers over my sensitive cunt, collecting his cum. Then he finger-fucks it back inside me, his touch rough and dirty.
I wonder sometimes if he treats my mom like this too, or if he reserves it for those nights when he sneaks into my room to fuck me hard with a pillow covering my face. I wish he would let me see him in those moments—the man who likes to read the newspaper at the breakfast table. I want to see what he looks like when he’s balls deep in my pussy, fucking me like I’m worthless. Because that’s what he does. He comes in here, orders me not to look at him, throws me down on my front, grabs a pillow, and covers my face. And I love every minute of it. The more humiliating it gets, the more I soak his dick. There’s something wrong with me. I know there is. But as he continues to ram his thick fingers inside me while my legs quiver and shake, I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything but the orgasm I’m chasing. I’ve already come on his dick twice, but he’s never satisfied until I come on his fingers, too.
“Sshh, if your mom hears you and comes in here, playtime stops. You don’t want that, do you?”
My head shakes beneath the pillow as my cunt makes a mess of his hand.
“Good girl. Now show me how much you like it when I come in here and show my little whore a good time.”
I make a strangled noise, my pussy pulsing around his fingers. He doesn’t stop pumping my cunt. If anything, his touch becomes even rougher.
“Did you miss me?” he asks, as I continue coming all over his hand, my body squirming on the bed. My scattered thoughts slowly return, and I whisper, “Yes,” the sound muffled beneath the pillow.
“Yeah?” The bed shifts. He moves back, and I listen to the sound of his zipper when he pulls it back up. “Then show me by spreading your ass cheeks apart. Let me see that ruined cunt.”
The pillow is damp from my labored breaths, and my T-shirt sticks to the sweat on my back. I reach behind me, my knees aching, and curl my fingers around each ass cheek. The cool air licks at my soaked, swollen folds, and the handprints from his earlier slaps sting my tender globes.
“Do you have any idea how you ruin men like me?” His fingers drag through a trail of cum on the back of my thigh all the way to my pussy. “Tell me you’re my whore and only mine. Not that boyfriend of yours.” There’s a hint of desperation in his gravelly voice that I haven’t heard before—a yearning.
“I’m your whore.” I wish I could remove the pillow and look at him. But I know he won’t like that, so I stay on my knees with my ass in the air and my cheek burrowed in the mattress.
“Your boyfriend doesn’t get to see this pretty little cunt exposed like this, understood? This is for my eyes only.”
I wet my already moist lips, fighting back panic now that I’m coming down from my high. The pillow feels like it’s suffocating me. “No one else gets to see me like this.”
Satisfied, he stands up, and the bed shifts. He leaves me like that—a used whore. I wait obediently until the door has clicked shut before removing the pillow and shifting onto my back. It’s at this moment, when I’m alone with my stepfather’s cum leaking out of me, that the tears fall. I want to die.
As ugly as the truth is to admit, I’m jealous of my dad. Two months from now, it’ll all be over for him. But I’ll have to live with his legacy. I’ll have to live with this darkness inside me that slowly feeds on my soul. The only time I get to purge is when my stepdad comes in here and treats me like his own little fuck toy. And even that is not enough. I want more pain, more degradation, more ruin. I want a true monster to find me.
The moaning in the background is getting on my last nerve. It’s fucking typical of Marcus to play porn on the big TV as though it’s the nine o’clock news or a soap opera.
“Where’s Liam tonight?” Chris asks, his arm slung around Amanda on the couch behind me.
I’m seated on the floor, mindlessly watching a busty redhead ride a man cowgirl on a luxury yacht.
“He had plans with the killer girl.”
My mouth tastes sour. I’ve tried to get his fucking attention for years. Then Keira’s father gets sentenced to death, and suddenly Liam is all over her? It’s not my fault that my family is so normal. Besides, I’m better looking than her. At least my tits are bigger. Keira lives in loose T-shirts or wool sweaters and jeans, and she rarely wears makeup. I don’t even get why he’s so obsessed with Keira. It’s not like he’s in love with her. Or maybe he is, in his own way. I don’t fucking know anymore.
“What’s with the long face?” Chris asks, leaning down to tickle my chin.
Batting him off, I climb to my feet. “I’m bored.”
“How can you be bored? It’s Tiffany, for crying out loud,” laughs Marcus, pointing the remote control at the TV screen. “Look at her, for fuck’s sake. I’d sell a nut to get to fuck her.”
