The truth comes to light, Antonio's boner betrays the pervert dad

Midnight Confessions: A Father's Forbidden Discovery

The Sleepless Night

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck two, its hollow chime echoing through the silent house like a funeral toll.

"She is your own blood for fuck's sake!"

Antonio lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the middle-aged man's body thrumming with restless energy. Maria slept beside him, her breath slow and even, the voluptuous milf's bare shoulder peeking from beneath the silk sheets—unaware of the storm raging inside him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

"I'm so fucked up... Did I really just kiss my own..."

About her.

About the way Miranda’s lips had parted when he’d grabbed her. How the young woman's pulse had jumped beneath his fingers. The way her wide hips had pressed against him, testing, teasing—

"F-Fuck."

Antonio threw off the covers, the sinful father's cock aching with unquenchable lusy, straining against his boxers.

He needed air.

"What the hell am I doing? Get your shit together, Antonio!"

Maybe it was a midlife crisis or something, he had to clear his head somehow.

Padding down the hallway in nothing but his sleep pants, the lustful dad paused outside Miranda’s door.

Closed.

Silent.

He should leave.

"Just a peek.. Just a peek won't hurt anyone, right?"

He didn’t.

"I'm just checking up on my sweet darling... It's for Miranda's sake."

A fat lie.

The Forbidden Search

The door creaked open under his touch, the scent of Miranda’s perfume—something dark and floral, like jasmine and sin—washing over him. Moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains, painting the room in silver, illuminating the rumpled sheets where she lay, sleeping, the young woman's raven hair fanned across the pillow like spilled ink.

Antonio’s breath caught.

He shouldn’t be here.

But he was.

His gaze swept the room, landing on her desk—on the sleek laptop resting there, its screen dark.

Just a quick look.

"There is nothing..."

Just to be sure.

"I'm just overthinking like always, my innocent daughter would never..."

The laptop whirred to life beneath his fingers, the glow of the screen casting eerie shadows across his face. He hesitated, then clicked on the Documents folder.

Empty.

Downloads.

"See? N-Nothing at all!"

Empty.

Was that disappointment he felt?

Then—

"Videos."

His pulse spiked.

"What. The. Fuck."

The folder was full.

Titles like "Practice 1," "Throat Training," and "Daddy’s Girl" stared back at him, each thumbnail a frozen moment of sin.

Antonio’s fingers shook as he clicked the first one.

"M-Maybe it is just a lookalike?"

The middle-aged man's boner strained against his sleep shorts...

The Shocking Revelation

The video bloomed to life, the image crisp, high-definition—Miranda, his daughter, on her knees, the raven-haired beauty's luscious red lips stretched around a thick, veiny cock, her grey eyes watering as she gagged, her throat fluttering around the intrusion.

"That’s it, puttana," a familiar voice growled from off-screen. "Take it all."

Stefano.

"W-What!? That can't be!!"

Antonio’s blood froze.

"NOT HIM!"

Then boiled.

The sinful father's cock throbbed, betraying him, as the video played on—Miranda ****, gagging, her fingers clawing at Stefano’s thighs as he fucked his best friend's daughter, ruining her pretty face with brutal precision.

*GLOCK!*

*GLOCK!!*

*GLOCK!*

"Such a good girl," Stefano praised, his hand fisting in the pale beauty's raven hair-lock, yanking her forward until her nose pressed against his pubes. "Gonna make you swallow every fucking inch—"

Miranda whimpered, the slender vixen's grey eyes rolled back as she choked on his fat cock, the young woman squirted hard on the bedroom's floor as a man old enough to be her father... A man who had watched the pale beauty grow up, and yet here he was using her throat like a cumdumpster, the raven-haired slut's body shaking—

"This can't be real... My daughter... My best friend... How?"

And then she came, again, the young woman's toned thighs clenching, his daughter's pussy dripping as Stefano pulled out and spilled across her face.

The video ended.

Antonio’s world shattered.

The Midnight Confrontation

"Enjoying the show, dad?"

Antonio whirled.

Miranda stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, the young woman's nightgown sheer in the moonlight, his daughter's nipples pebbled beneath the fabric.

"W-What the fuck is this?" Antonio hissed, his deep baritone raw with rage—and arousal.

Miranda smirked, stepping closer, her wide hips swaying with unconcealed seduction with every step. "I think it’s pretty obvious."

"He’s my best friend!"

"And I’m your daughter," she purred, her lithe fingers trailing along the edge of the desk. "But that didn’t stop you from putting those rough hands of yours on me, your helpless, innocent daughter, I could have screamed yet here we are..."

Antonio’s jaw clenched.

"This is wrong."

Miranda laughed, her soft contralto low and husky. "You don’t mean that."

She reached for him, the pale beauty's lithe fingers brushing the bulge in his pants, her touch burning through the fabric.

"You’re hard, papà," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. "Hard for me, throbbing for your sweet princess."

Antonio groaned, his resolve crumbling.

"Tell me you don’t want this," she challenged, her hand squeezing down on the middle-aged man's sinful boner.

He couldn’t.

Miranda, the slender vixen was his ruin.