Forbidden Night with Father-in-Law
The room was dark except for the faint light coming from the window. My husband lay beside me, his breathing steady, deeply asleep. His warm presence should have been comforting, but my thoughts were miles away, consumed by something — someone — I should have never let into my mind.
I shifted uncomfortably in bed, my fingers tracing the soft edge of the blanket, trying to ignore the heat building within me. The air felt thick with anticipation. I wasn’t alone, not just because of my husband’s presence.
The door creaked open quietly, and in stepped his Dad. He was the last person I expected to be standing in the doorway of my bedroom at that hour. His face was calm, but there was a predatory glint in his eyes. I froze, heart racing in my chest. I knew exactly what he was doing here. I hadn’t expected him to come tonight, but now, I was tangled in a situation that seemed so wrong — and yet so irresistible.
My pulse quickened as he took a step forward, closing the door softly behind him. He hadn’t said a word, but I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. I could feel his presence even without seeing him clearly. It was as if the space between us had narrowed, drawing me to him like a moth to a flame.
His Dad's hand brushed against the edge of the bed as he made his way closer, his fingers grazing the sheets in a teasing motion. I could feel his proximity now, the heat radiating from him, and the tension in the air grew thick. My breath hitched as he leaned over, careful not to wake my husband, his lips just inches from my ear.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” his Dad whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “I know you feel it too.”
A shiver ran down my spine as his words sank in. I wanted to push him away. I wanted to tell him to leave, but my body wasn’t listening to reason. It was as if every inch of me was betraying the boundaries I had once tried to keep intact.
His Dad's hand slowly slid across the bed, coming to rest on my waist. I could feel the firmness of his grip, a contrast to the soft, steady rhythm of my husband’s sleeping form beside me. The danger of it all, the forbidden nature of this moment, made my heart pound harder. My husband lay oblivious to the affair that was unfolding right next to him.
His Dad's lips brushed against my neck, his touch slow and deliberate. I gasped softly, trying to keep quiet, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was useless. The desire built between us with every touch, every breath. I could feel his body against mine, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch to send waves of heat coursing through me.
With every passing second, the line between right and wrong blurred, and I found myself giving in to the temptation I’d tried so hard to resist. My husband, so close, yet completely unaware, was no longer in my thoughts. It was his Dad, only his Dad — his touch, his presence, his whisper in the dark that consumed me.
As his Dad slowly pulled me closer, the weight of what we were doing hung heavily in the air. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. The need for him was overpowering, and I couldn’t stop myself.
I knew this could ruin everything, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I could hear my heart racing, the sound of his breath, and the faint rustling of the sheets as he shifted closer. And then, I felt his lips press against mine — a kiss that was forbidden but so desperately needed.@#dirty talk@#anal @#slow burn romance @#forbidden fruit @#seduction