My Secret Daddy
Copyright© 2025 by CreepyUnclePete
Chapter 12
(Dave)
The look on Luci’s face when she’s coming is like something out of a goddamn movie, eyes rolled back, jaw slack, totally gone. I’m sitting there with Renee’s arm draped over my shoulder, watching Luci shake like a leaf while I’ve got my hands locked on her hips. The girl is a little firecracker, and goddamn, she tastes like heaven and trouble. I didn’t expect a birthday girl to be this hungry, but I’m a man who appreciates a feast.
Renee leans in, her breath smelling like that strawberry ice cream from earlier, and starts chewing on Luci’s lip. It’s a messy, wet tangle of tongues and soft moans. I don’t waste time; I grab the back of Luci’s head and pull her down. We’re all over each other, a chaotic heap of skin and heat on that sofa. I’m kissing her deep, tasting the salt on her skin, while Renee is busy exploring every inch of Luci’s neck with her teeth. The sound of us making out is raw, slapping lips, heavy breathing, and the occasional wet smack. It’s pure, unadulterated filth, and I love every second of it.
Suddenly, I decide I’ve had enough of the foreplay. I flip Luci over with one smooth motion, guiding her head right between my legs while I dive for her heat. 69. The gold standard. I’ve got my face buried in her soaking wet folds, my tongue hammering away at that little button of a clit, while she’s working my cock with a desperation that nearly breaks my spine. I can feel her throat tightening around me, her tongue swirling, and the pressure in my gut is becoming unbearable. I’m growling into her thigh, my tongue flicking faster and faster, and then it happens, we both hit the wall at the same time. I blow my load right into her mouth while she screams into my crotch, her walls clamping down on my tongue in a series of violent, rhythmic pulses.
We lay there for a second, just panting, the air thick with the smell of sex. But Renee’s still twitching, her eyes glazed over, staring at the ceiling. Luci doesn’t miss a beat. She slides over, her eyes locked on Renee’s dripping center. She doesn’t hesitate, diving straight in. She’s licking Renee like she’s trying to find a hidden treasure, her tongue long and insistent. Renee’s hips start to buck, her fingers digging into the sofa cushions, and then she lets out a jagged, loud moan that echoes through the basement. She’s shaking, completely spent, as Luci drinks her dry.
“Alright, enough,” I grunt, standing up and letting my sweatpants snap against the floor. “You two smell like a locker room. Get in the shower, before you stain my furniture.”
The shower is a tight fit for the three of us, but that’s what makes it fun. The water is steaming, turning the small stall into a foggy blur. I’ve got the soap lathering up my chest, but most of my attention is on the girls. I’m scrubbing Luci’s back, my hands roaming over her curves, while Renee is leaning against the tiles, letting the water sluice over her breasts. We’re all rubbing against each other, the soap making everything slippery and effortless. It’s not about the sex anymore, well, mostly, it’s just the feeling of skin on skin, the warmth of the water, and the quiet, satisfied hum of three people who just tore each other apart. I pull them both close, the steam swirling around us, and for a moment, everything in the world is just right.
(Renee)
The air in the bedroom is a heavy, velvet curtain, smelling of rain and old books and the lingering salt of our shared heat. As I press my cheek against the soft cotton of the sheets, I find myself drifting in a sea of gold and honey, orbiting the radiant sun that is Luci. She is a garden in full bloom, a delicate symphony of sighs and sweetness that makes my heart stutter in my chest. To touch her is to touch a miracle; to breathe her in is to taste a secret, forbidden fruit that I wish to devour until there is nothing left of me but the echo of her name. My soul is a moth, and she is the flame, and I would happily burn to a cinder just to stay within the orbit of her warmth for one more heartbeat.
Yet, as I feel the presence of the man beside us, a flicker of coldness brushes against my spirit. There is a strange, looming architecture to him, a heavy, daunting geometry that feels like a wall I cannot climb. While his kindness is a soft blanket, the thought of that singular, imposing organ makes my stomach coil in a quiet, instinctive retreat. It is a frightening mystery, a sudden intrusion of bone and vein that feels too loud, too demanding. I look at the curve of his shoulder and a wistful ache blooms in my chest; I imagine a world where the hardness of him was replaced by the soft, sloping grace of a woman’s hip. If he were carved from the same celestial clay as Luci, I could lose myself in him, too, and we would be a trinity of silk and moonlight, undisturbed by the frightening edges of manhood.
Suddenly, the tension of the day dissolves into a heavy, blissful lethargy. We collapse into the sanctuary of the mattress, a tangle of limbs and slowing breaths. Luci is the bridge between us, a warm, breathing anchor that keeps me grounded. I slide my arm across her waist, pulling her small frame tight against mine, while Dave’s massive arm forms a protective canopy over both of us. I close my eyes, focusing only on the rhythmic rise and fall of Luci’s chest, letting the scent of her skin drown out the world. Slowly, the fog of sleep pulls us under, and we drift away in a silent, entwined knot of affection.
Hours later, I woke up to the sound of the house groaning. It was barely dawn, the room cast in a bruised purple light. Luci was still out, her mouth slightly open, looking like a little angel who had just finished a very long shift at a very dirty job. Dave was snoring, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the mattress.
I shifted slightly, and my foot brushed against his calf. I jumped, remembering the “geometry” of him, but then I felt Luci stir. She let out a tiny, sleepy moan and curled closer to me, her hand instinctively finding my hip.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dave’s voice rasped. He sounded like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel. He didn’t move his arm from Luci, but he opened one eye and looked at me with a lazy, knowing grin.
“Go back to sleep, Dave,” I whispered, though I couldn’t help but smile.
“Can’t,” he murmured, his voice getting that low, dangerous hum again. “Too hungry. And not for breakfast.”
Suddenly, he shifted, his hand sliding from Luci’s waist to the small of my back, pulling me closer into the center of the bed. I stiffened for a second, the fear of the ‘equipment’ flashing through my mind, but then Luci woke up. She didn’t just wake up; she launched herself.
“Hahaha! Get him, Renee!” she giggled, throwing a pillow directly into Dave’s face.
The pillow exploded into a cloud of feathers. Dave roared with laughter, lunging forward to grab both of us. We became a whirlwind of sheets and shrieks, rolling over one another in a chaotic pile. For a moment, the fear was gone, replaced by the raw, electric joy of being wanted.