Stefano's drunken mistake, Miranda plays along

Drunken Mistake: A Daughter's Forbidden Feast

The Drunken Stumble

The front door slammed against the wall with a **** that rattled the framed family photos in the hallway. Stefano staggered inside, his vision blurred by cheap whiskey and the searing image burned into his retinas—Jessica, his wife, her plump ass cheeks spilling out of fishnet stockings, her tits barely contained in that slutty crop top...

"SHIT!!"

Some silver-haired bastard with his fingers knuckle-deep in the woman he had shared lifelong vows with just as the cheating slut smirked at him, her husband, from the passenger seat of that fucking Bentley.

"Fucking whore," he slurred, his fist connecting with the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.

He needed Maria.

Needed to bury himself in her thick thighs, the mature woman's fat ass, her warm, willing cunt—needed to erase the sight of Jessica’s betrayal with every punishing thrust.

The house was dark.

Silent.

Antonio was at the match—fuck, he’d called him earlier, hadn’t he? Said he was sick.

Sick to the stomach.

The way she, his wife's green eyes, how the mature redhead had leered at him.

"What a shameless slut."

He couldn’t go. His old friend could watch Torino-Inter without him.

"Maria?" Stefano’s voice was rough, raw with liquor and rage. "Where are you, puttana? Need your fucking pussy—"

No answer.

He stumbled down the hall, his cock already hard, straining against his zipper. Maria’s bedroom door stood ajar.

Empty.

But there—the soft glow of a nightlight spilling from Miranda’s room.

Stefano’s breath hitched.

Maria had to be in there, right?

The Mistaken Feast

Miranda lay sprawled across her bed, the thin silk of her nightgown riding up her thighs, her bare ass exposed to the cool air. The cameras hidden in her room—tiny, undetectable—hummed softly, their red recording lights blinking in the shadows.

She’d known Stefano would come one day.

"For me... Not mom."

The raven-haired vixen had waited for it so long...

The door creaked open.

Miranda feigned sleep, the young woman's breath slow and even, her slender body limp against the sheets.

Stefano’s footsteps were heavy, unsteady. The scent of whiskey and sweat filled the room as he loomed over the bed, his calloused hands gripping Miranda’s wide hips, yanking her onto her back.

"Thought you could hide from me, hmm?" he growled, his deep baritone thick with lust.

Miranda didn’t respond, her heart hammering as Stefano’s fingers dug into her toned thighs, spreading the pale vixen's legs wide.

"Fuck, you’re dripping," he muttered, his thumb brushing over her slick folds, gathering her arousal before bringing it to his lips. "Taste just like I remember."

Miranda bit back a moan as Stefano’s mouth crashed against her pussy, his tongue lashing at her clit with rough, hungry strokes.

"Stef—ahh!" she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

Stefano didn’t stop.

His hands gripped her bubble butt, lifting her higher, his tongue plunging inside the young woman's pink folds, fucking her with the same brutal intensity he’d use his cock.

"So fucking sweet," he groaned against her, his stubble scraping her inner thighs. "Gonna eat you all night, slut—gonna make you scream—"

Miranda’s fingers twisted in the sheets, the young woman's hips grinding against his face, her soft contralto filthy, **** as she moaned against him.

"O-Ohmygod... YES!!"

They were finally doing it...

And the hidden spy cameras caught everything.

The Squirting Confession

Stefano’s tongue was relentless.

Miranda’s thighs trembled, the slender vixen's pussy clenching around nothing as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud just hard enough to make her scream.

"F-Fuck! Fuck! Stefano—!"

The pale beauty's orgasm hit like a freight train, her back bowing off the bed as she squirted hard across his face, her juices soaking the middle-aged man's beard, his chin, his mouth as he drank her down with a groan.

"Damn, just like your mother," he panted, his lips glistening with her cum.

Miranda froze.

"W-What!?"

Stefano drunken haze broke for a second, the sobering clarity was like a cold shower on his mind.

The air between them crackled.

"M-Miranda?" The middle-aged man's deep baritone was trembling, a blissful mix of guilt and lust made his boner throb even harder.

Miranda’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.

"Surprise."

Like mom, like daughter...

The Slut's Reckoning

Stefano’s hazel eyes darkened.

His hands—big, rough—wrapped around Miranda’s throat, slamming her back against the mattress as his towering frame loomed over the young woman's slender body, his fat throbbing cock smearing precum against her thigh.

"You little whore," he snarled. "You let me—"

Miranda grinned, her wide hips rolling against him, the pale vixen's wet cunt begging for him.

"And you loved it."

Stefano’s grip tightened.

Then—

"Prove it."

A growl.

A snap of his hips.

And then—

Pain.

*PLAP!*

Pleasure.

*PLAP*

Ruin.

*PLAP!!*

Stefano’s fat cock split the raven-haired beauty open, his thickness stretching her out, filling the slender vixen's tight pussy to the brim, claiming her womb as the middle-aged man fucked her with punishing strokes.

"This what you wanted?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "Wanted daddy to break you?"

Miranda sobbed, her nails raking down his back.

"Y-Yes! O-Ohmygod Yes! Fuck me—ruin me—!"

She was young enough to be his daughter for fuck's sake.

*PLAP!*

*PLAP!!*

*PLAP!!!*

This thought only drove him wilder.

The Morning After

The cameras had everything.

Miranda’s screams.

Stefano’s groans.

The slap of skin on skin.

The creak of the bed.

The gush of cum as he filled her up again and again.

And now?

Now the video was live.

Title: "Daddy’s Drunken Mistake (Real Stepdaughter Creampie)."

Views: climbing.

Comments: filthy.

And Miranda?

Miranda was smiling.