The Son Seduction Trap
Copyright© 2025 by Chris X
Chapter 9
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 9 - Attend curiosity leads to adult websites which causes a moral dilemma for himself an online friend turns into more sexual boundaries are pushed the under limits. A journey into knowing oneself.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt Drunk/Drugged Rape BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Mother Son Father DomSub Humiliation Rough Interracial White Male White Female Hispanic Male Indian Male Anal Sex Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism Hairy Revenge Violence AI Generated
His hands are everywhere at once, yet each movement is deliberate, possessive. He doesn’t just take my shirt off; he peels it from my skin like he’s unwrapping something precious. His fingers trail fire over my ribs, my stomach, and my spine. My jeans and boxers are dealt with in one smooth, efficient motion, pooling at my ankles. He kicks them aside, his eyes never leaving my body.
“Turn around,” he murmurs, his voice a low thrum that vibrates deep in my chest.
I obey, presenting my back to him. The air in the motel room is cool on my feverish skin. I hear the soft rustle of fabric as he sheds his own clothes. Then his heat is against me, the solid, powerful wall of his chest pressing into my back. His arms wrap around me, crossing over my chest, pulling me tight against him. His beard is rough against the side of my neck, his breath hot on my ear.
This is how a boyfriend holds his girlfriend, the thought drifts through my mind, absurd and intoxicating. He makes me feel small. Protected. Owned.
His hands begin to move, slow, sweeping caresses that map my entire body. They slide over my shoulders, down my arms, tracing the lines of my muscles. His palms are rough and calloused from his work, and the contrast against my smooth skin is electric. Every inch he touches tingles, awakening a deep, humming need.
“So perfect,” he breathes into my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive shell. “All that youth. All that fire. And it’s all for me.”
His right hand slides down my stomach, fingers combing through the dark hair there before wrapping around my aching cock. I gasp, my head falling back against his shoulder. He’s not stroking me, just holding me, his fist a hot, firm ring at my base while his thumb smears the bead of precum that’s already gathered at the tip.
His other hand continues its exploration, sliding down my side, over my hip, and then cupping the firm curve of my ass. He kneads the muscle there, a possessive, almost casual grope that makes me push back against him instinctively. I can feel his own hard length, thick and insistent, nestled between my ass cheeks. The sheer size of it sends a jolt of pure, primal fear and want straight through me.
He nuzzles my neck, his lips finding a spot that makes my knees buckle. He holds me up easily, his strength undeniable. He kisses the spot, then sucks, hard. I know he’s marking me. Claiming me. A moan is torn from my throat, and I feel his smile against my skin.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. “Just feel it. Give it all to me.”
His hand leaves my cock, and for a heartbreaking second, I feel the loss. But then both his hands are on my hips, turning me, guiding me backward. My calves hit the edge of the bed, and I sit, then lie back, the cheap comforter scratchy against my bare skin. He stands over me for a moment, a dark, powerful god outlined by the dim lamplight. His gaze devours me, roaming over my sprawled, vulnerable form. His cock stands thick and proud from a thatch of dark hair, already weeping.
He doesn’t join me. Instead, he reaches for his discarded sweatpants, pulling a small bottle of lube from the pocket. The click of the cap is obscenely loud.
My heart hammers against my ribs. This is it. This is the something he’s going to take.
He kneels on the bed between my legs, pushing my thighs apart. The position is brutally exposing. He coats his fingers with the cool, clear gel, warming it between his hands.
“Look at me, Adam,” he commands, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument.
My eyes, which had been fixed on the ceiling, snap to his. His gaze is dark and intense, but there’s a surprising tenderness there amidst the hunger.
“This might sting for a second,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “But I’ll make it good for you. I promise. You trust me?”
The question hangs in the air. I think of his guidance, his commands, and the way he’s unlocked a world of pleasure I never knew existed. I think of the pride in his voice. I belong to him. My trust is the final surrender.
“Yes,” I breathe, the word barely a whisper. “I trust you.”
A slow, genuine smile touches his lips. “Good boy.”
His slick fingers find the tight pucker between my ass cheeks. He circles the nerve-filled rim slowly, making me jump at the strange, intimate contact. He applies gentle pressure. I tense instinctively, my body clamping down.
“Shhh, relax,” he soothes, his free hand stroking my inner thigh. “Breathe out for me, baby. Just let go.”
I force a breath out, and as I do, his finger pushes past the initial tight resistance. There’s a sharp, burning sting, and I gasp, my fingers clutching the sheets. He holds still, buried to the knuckle inside me, letting my body adjust to the incredible, impossible intrusion.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, watching my face intently. “Just breathe. You’re taking me so good.”
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