Let him remove the towel

"Da—David," you say.

"Shhh," he says, literally putting a finger to your lips. His other hand tugs at where the towel is folded over itself.

Undone, it drops to the floor. His eyes drink up your nude form for the first time. Even if you hadn't been well aware of the telltale bulge in his pants, those eyes would tell you all you need to know. He is completely smitten with you. He swallows, a lump forming and travelling down his throat with a quick gulp, and you see his hands shaking. It's as if it's all he can do to restrain himself from throwing you on the bed right now and just taking you.

The very idea makes you wet. Then he lays his hands on you, on your toned arms, a light touch that sends shivers traversing your spine. He moves inwards, cupping your breasts, then runs his hands down the curve of your waist, your hips, past the tantalizing strip of hair between your legs, settling on your ass. It's your best feature now, although that's like commenting on the best feature of a Porsche or a Ferrari. That's what he's doing to you right now: he's looking at you, touching you, and objectifying you. He's making you a thing he can touch and hold and caress, a jewel for his collection.

You step forward into his embrace and finish undoing his shirt. The silk glides over his rock-hard biceps. It joins your towel on the floor. Your fingers grace his chest, tickling him slightly, as his hands roam over you.

The electricity of your first kiss blots out any last, lingering doubts in your minds. So what if you weren't married before yesterday? So what if you were once this man's daughter? Right here, right now, in this moment, he is your husband. As he lifts you up to deposit you on the bed, flat on your back, you want nothing more than what happens next.

You spread your legs eagerly, bringing your knees up to put your dripping cunt on display for him, making sure he can see what a ready and wanton slut you are. You touch yourself, revelling in the feeling of the slick, warm lubrication on your fingers.

He wastes no time undoing his belt, dropping his pants and boxers to the floor, and stepping forward. He takes each of your legs in his hands, folds them up behind your head, putting you into perfect porn star pose, pussy-plowing the only thing on his mind.

"Fuck me," you say, the two, perfect syllables escaping from between your dark lips with the perfect balance of desire and desperation.

He smiles, says nothing, but thrusts forward. His cock intentionally strokes your cunt lips at first, growing firmer, stoking you into a deeper heat. It's not until you grab the rigid meamber and guide it inside you that he relents. You feel the cock breach your lips, slip into you. You alternatively stretch and tighten around him, responsive, willing and welcoming him deeper into your body. Daddy-David-father-husband-whatever he is, fucking you, mating with you. It's so wrong so right so fucking good.

Lost as you are in the pleasure of it all, it takes you a moment to realize the intermittent noises you hear are in fact your own, high-pitched gasps. He times his thrusts carefully, slow at first and then ramping up to fast and rough, pushing you towards an edge, before backing off. His hands keep your feet up by your head, bending you to the limits of your flexibility, and you imagine what you must look like from his point of view, your cunt raw and exposed, your pretty asshole just below it, gaping and flexing, your ass thick and juicy against the edge of the bed.

"Ohhhhh, fuck yes. Fuck me like that. Harder, David. Take me! I'm your wife and I deserve your cock!"

"Is that what you think, hmm?" He grins. "Have you been good enough for it?"

"I've been naughty," you smile back.

In response, he shifts position slightly, from standing to kneeling on the bed. Releasing your legs, he balances on his knees and continues to thrust deeper and deeper into you, his balls now slapping against your buttocks. "Bad girls get punished in this house."

He chokes you, lightly and playfully but nevertheless painfully. Just rough enough to make you want it more. Tears form in your eyes as you gasp. He's pushing you to the edge, closer and closer, and you just want to get over.

"Bad girls get bred."

He grunts, thrusts one more time, and then you feel it. A warmth in your vagina triumphantly announcing the arrival of your husband's seed. He shoots it deep inside you, down into your womb, and you moan loudly with satisfaction. This is your purpose, of course; you're a babymaker and a broodmare for this man. Once he's sure the job is done he pulls out, then pushes back in, his cock continuing to punish your cunt until, finally, your body surrenders up to you the orgasm you so richly desire and deserve.

The waves of pleasure wash over your body. You graps handfuls of bedsheets and look up at the satisfied smile on your lover's face. Whatever you were before today, it doesn't matter. The two of you have decided to accept this new life, this new reality, in the most base and simple way.

Your stepchildren will just have to accept that this is the new normal. Your hands move protectively to your taut stomach, and you smile. You're mommy now.