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Breakfast Sins

Author: TBoy
last update publish date: 2026-06-20 04:48:04

Chapter 2: Breakfast Sins

Charlotte’s POV

My pussy was still sore from how hard I’d fucked myself with Sebastian’s collar the night before, but that didn’t stop me from waking up yearning for more.

The leather was hidden under my pillow like a dirty secret, still carrying the faint scent of the basement room and my own cum. I pressed my thighs together under the sheets, to feel the fresh wetness slick my folds.

Laugh at me all you can . I know I’m crazy . Twenty years old, virgin, and completely obsessed with the man sleeping down the hall. The same man my mother had married to give me a “normal” life after Dad’s painful death. What a fucking joke.

I slipped on a thin white robe that barely reached mid-thigh, no panties, and headed downstairs. My nipples poked against the silk, begging for rough hands. Sebastian’s hands.

Sebastian sat at the head of the long marble table in a crisp white shirt that stretched across his broad, muscular chest. He’s in his early forties, but built like a man who could pin you down and make you beg. His intense eyes flicked up from his phone as I entered, lingering on the way the robe clung to my curves. Mom was at the counter, pouring coffee, looking polished but tired, always chasing the next deal, trying to maintain the family name.

“Morning, princess,” Sebastian said, his deep voice rumbling through me like a command. That voice. That I always imagined growling “good girl” while he choked me.

“Morning… Dad.” The word tasted filthy and sweet on my tongue. I sat across from him, letting my robe slip open just enough to show the soft inner curve of my breast. My heart raced. Would he look? Did he want to?

Mom turned with a smile, kissing Sebastian’s cheek quickly. “You two behave while I’m at this meeting. I’ll be back late.” She glanced at me, with that soft smile. She’d sacrificed everything after Dad died including marrying Sebastian and giving up her own happiness for me.

It’s a pity. Her quiet daughter had stolen her husband’s BDSM collar and was dripping of my own cum screaming his name last night…

“I will, Mom,” I said softly, forcing my innocent smile while my clit throbbed under the table.

She left in a hurry, heels clicking out the door. Leaving just me and Sebastian alone in this big mansion.

The air thickened instantly. I reached for the orange juice, letting my robe gape wider as I leaned forward. His gaze dropped to my chest, dark and hungry for a split second before he looked away. My foot brushed his calf under the table lightly.

“Charlotte.” His warning tone was low, rough. Commanding. Exactly like the doms in my videos. My pussy clenched hard.

“Sorry,” I whispered, but I didn’t pull back. I brushed again, slower, my toes sliding up toward his knee. His thigh muscle flexed under my touch.

God, he was hard already. I could see the thick cock outline starting to strain against his pants. Ouch! A powerful businessman who loved rough sex, but stuck in a routine marriage with Mom. And here I was, his virgin stepdaughter, dripping for him.

He stood abruptly, adjusting himself without shame. “I’ll be in my office. Don’t disturb me.” But his voice cracked just a little.

I waited ten minutes, then followed like a moth to flame. The office door wasn’t locked. So I pushed it open, pretending to look for a book on the shelf behind his desk. He was on a call, sounding so authoritative, ordering someone around like he owned them. It made me so wet I had to press my thighs together.

When he hung up, those intense eyes locked on me. “You need something, Charlotte?”

“Yes. I need you inside me. Disvirgining me.” Those were the words I wanted to blurt out before I held myself. “Nothing. Just… thanks. For taking care of us. After Dad, Mom was lost. You became a father.” My voice was soft, vulnerable. I stepped closer, my robe slipping off one shoulder.

Shameless me, I didn’t feel guilty. Mom’s sacrifices, Dad’s memory, it only fueled the fire between my legs.

Sebastian’s hands clenched on the desk. His eyes darkened, like he could see straight through my robe to my soaked, virgin pussy. Then he looked away, rubbing his temple. “Go and study. This isn’t… appropriate.”

I left with a shy nod, but inside I was smiling.

That afternoon, while Mom was still gone, I watched him from the shadows of the home gym. Shirt off, sweat glistening on his ripped abs and powerful arms as he lifted weights.

His body was built for dominance, for choking, spanking, claiming. I slipped away to my room, locked the door, and pulled out the stolen collar.

I stripped naked, the cool air kissing my hard nipples and dripping slit. Buckling the collar tight around my neck, I mounted my pillow, grinding my swollen clit against it like a desperate slut. One hand choked the leather ring, the other plunged three fingers deep into my cunt, fucking myself to the memory of his gym sweat, his warning voice, the way his cock had twitched at breakfast.

“Fuck your little stepdaughter, Daddy. Bend me over. Fill me with that thick cock I crave.” I imagined him walking in right now, catching me, dragging me to the basement, and pounding my virginity away on that bench.

My hips bucked wildly. The collar was tight, cutting off enough air to make stars burst behind my eyes. I came hard, squirting all over the pillow, biting my arm to stay quiet as waves of shameful ecstasy crashed through me.

The hunger to fuck my step daddy grew every second.

This was more than lust. Sebastian filled the empty hole Dad’s death had carved in me. Mom’s absences had taught me to soothe myself in the dark. Now that darkness had a name, a body, and a locked room full of ropes and commands.

I was cleaning up, collar still around my neck, when heavy footsteps stopped right outside my door.

“Charlotte?” Sebastian’s voice. “Your mother called. She’s running late. Dinner will be at seven. Don’t be late.”

I froze. The collar felt like a neon sign of my sin. My room reeked of my cum smell, my fantasies. If he opened the door… if he saw me naked, collared, thighs shiny with fresh juices…

My voice cracked, breathy. “I’m… changing. I’ll be out soon.”

I could picture him there, muscular frame, cock half-hard again, fighting the same pull I felt. The storm outside was building, wind rattling the windows, mirroring the chaos inside me. Mom away. Just us. Alone.

His footsteps finally retreated, but the tension hung thick as smoke. I touched the collar, my pulse racing with hope. Maybe tonight, with the whiskey and the rain, he’d finally see me. Maybe he’d grab me, kiss me, ruin me like I needed.

But as I dressed in something shorter and tighter than I should, a darker thought hit, what if he did? What if this forbidden fire burned our whole family down? And why did that terrifying possibility make me even more wet as the first thunder rolled through the mansion?

The night was just beginning, and the leash between us was fraying fast.

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