Oiled up and Ready for the Pool: A Stepdaughters Fantasy Come

Bang Bros

Filthy Rich, Corinna Blake

The afternoon sun cast long, liquid gold shadows across the patio, and the air hummed with the promise of the cool, blue pool. His hands, warm and slick with coconut-scented oil, moved in slow, deliberate circles across her shoulders, and she let out a soft, contented sigh that was only partly for show. Every nerve ending in her skin came alive under his touch, a silent, thrilling conversation spoken only through shifting pressure and trembling responses. She shifted her weight, a subtle, rolling motion of her hips against the towel-draped lounger, feeling the charged stillness in the air between them thicken. A soft, breathy whisper escaped her lips as she arched her back, pressing into his palms, an unspoken invitation he was clearly hesitant to accept. The world narrowed to this single, suspended moment, the line between paternal care and desperate want blurring into an unbearable, exquisite tension. She could feel the heat radiating from him, a mirror to the fire he was stoking deep within her own core, a flush of emotion coloring her cheeks. His breath hitched, a ragged sound against her ear, and she knew the careful walls of responsibility were crumbling. Turning her head, her eyes met his, and in that shared, unguarded look, a lifetime of unspoken fantasies shimmered into reality, binding them together in this secret, sun-drenched space. The gentle lapping of the pool water seemed to mock their stillness, a rhythm they were both desperate to break. This was no longer about sun protection; it was a surrender to a current far more powerful and deep, pulling them both under.