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Your Dad Will Do (A Touch of Taboo)

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What are you thinking about?” He asks almost idly as he pumps his fingers a little. “You just clenched around me.” I really, really don’t want to talk about it, but the sheer closeness of him makes my verbal brakes disappear. I find myself answering without having any intention of doing so. “He slept with his secretary. I think he wanted me to catch him. Either that, or he’s just really shitty as hiding it when he’s up to no good.” Except that’s not the full truth, but admitting that I think he’s been cheating on me for months and months feels lke admitting that I’m a fool. What kind of fiancé just swallows the lies whole and doesn’t question it when things don’t quite line up?

You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. I know.” Shane doesn’t need me to clarify that I’m not talking about physical pain. He kisses me as I ride him, as I chase the temporary oblivion an orgasm offers. A little death, a small escape, one I need more than I need my next breath. Shane looks down at me, his eyes sympathetic even if his words are designed to split me wide open. “Moving on awful fast then, aren’t you, son?” Wet,” Shane murmurs. “Were you that wet for me that day? Would you have let me…” He pushes two broad fingers into me. “You would have, wouldn’t you?”You belong to your father the devil and you willingly carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he speaks in character, because he is a liar and the father of lies. No, it doesn’t.” Slowly, oh so slowly, I lay my head on his shoulder. “I’m probably a right asshole to be here right now.”

I know that. I desperately wish I didn’t know that. I look up at him. “I will. I promise I will. Just…not this weekend.” You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out his desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, refusing to uphold the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, because he is a liar and the father of lies. Strong's 4739: To stand fast, stand firm, persevere. From the perfect tense of histemi; to be stationary, i.e. to persevere.Little by little, I relax, my mind unspooling beneath his tongue and the pressure of his fingers against my thighs, holding me open for him. “That feels good,” I whisper. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.” He tugs on the loose fabric of the crop top. “Keep this on.” I look out the window and freeze. I know that car with the dent in the driver’s side. That’s Max’s car. He fills the doorway, a large man with broad shoulders, big hands, and a smattering of salt and pepper in his hair. He’s in his late forties, some twenty-ish years older than me. Shane frowns as recognition slips over his handsome face. “Lily? What are you doing here?” I've been harboring a dark secret for two long years. I've been fantasizing about my fiancé's father, thinking filthy thoughts that a good daughter-in-law should not be indulging in. So when I catch my fiancé cheating on me, there's only one revenge that will fulfill all my needs.

I’m in such agony, I barely register where we’re going until Shane pulls to a stop in front of a nondescript white building. The parking lot is all but empty on a Saturday morning, and the other two buildings that share the space are abandoned. I frown out the windshield. “This is a sex toy shop.” For a second, I think he’s going to keep arguing. He knows this time with him is just a bandage on a bullet wound, but Shane finally catches my hips and pulls me against him. “I’ll give you whatever you need.” Their wedding's coming up, but Lily has a special request for the big day, and daddy Shane is ALLLLL about giving it to her 🥵Awkward silence reigns. Finally, Max clears his throat. “We, uh, broke up earlier this week. It wasn’t working out for either of us.” My heart starts hammering and I move toward him one slow step at a time. He catches my hips and pulls me against him, and then grasps my chin, lifting my face so I have nowhere to hide. “Tell me.” By the time I finish, he reappears with a small polka dot bag I instantly recognize. Max and I only spent significant time here in the summers because of the pool, but that was enough for me to leave a small stash of my stuff in Max’s old room for when I needed it. I take the bag from Shane with shaking hands. It’s another reminder of where I was versus where I am now. “Thanks.” You belong to your father the devil, and you want to carry out the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning and has never stood for truth, since there is no truth in him. Whenever he tells a lie, he speaks in character, because he is a liar and the father of lies.

I lift my hands and then let them drop. “In my head, this ended when we both orgasmed. I don’t know how to handle this.” I motion between us. Please report metadata errors at the source library. If there are multiple source libraries, know that we pull metadata from top to bottom, so the first one might be sufficient. I find Shane in the kitchen eating pancakes. He barely looks at me as he slides a second plate across the counter and sets a coffee next to it—heavy in cream and sugar, just like I prefer. “Eat.” The slow slide of his fingers into me feels obscene in this position. As if I’m just a plaything for him to do with as he pleases. Against my better judgement, my gaze flies around the room. We’re totally exposed here. If someone walked in, there would be no doubt what we’re doing, no hiding how close I am to coming, no missing the fact that it’s his fingers getting me there.

Thank you.” I’m not even sure what I’m thanking him for. Space. Orgasms. Being here for me to crash myself upon with the minimum damage. No matter how destructive my original impulse to seduce Shane, I can’t deny he’s caught me in the middle of a freefall. It’s still a freefall, but it feels more guided now. I try for a wobbling smile. “I’m going to wash my face.”

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