Swipe Right For Naughty Fun With StepDaddy
T. A. BEAU
Swipe Right For Naughty Fun With StepDaddy
T. A. BEAU
A short pseudoincest erotica story with DDLG kink, exhibitionism and praise kink.
Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.
WORD COUNT: 4,900 words
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The urge to text my ex-boyfriend again is strong, but against all odds, I swipe past his blocked number and throw my phone on the bed.
It's not like I miss him so much—he was the definition of emotionally unavailable and we'd only been going out for two months.
But… I'm horny. And he knows exactly what I like. It's why we'd lasted so long despite arguing every other day. Josh could put me in my place when it came down to it.
“Ugh.” I massage my forehead. Sure, I had a list of other guys I could text who would fall at my feet to do what I wanted—but that was boring.
My phone pings with a notification and I pick it up again. I roll my eyes at the spam email ad, clicking on it.
“Kinkblr matches you with someone who shares your sexual fantasies anonymously,” I read aloud, getting somewhat interested. “Matches disappear within twenty four hours, so you don't have to worry about your privacy or your identity being exposed.”
My eyebrows climb all the way into my hairline. That… actually sounded great.
Of course, I'm not stupid enough to click on links from spam mail, so I open the app store to search for Kinkblr. Sure enough, it's right there with images showing the app's layout.
“Perfect,” I cheer, tapping install.
As I wait, I wonder what I'll put in my profile. Do I want to reveal that I’m in college? Men usually found college girls vapid and immature, but that could work to my advantage.
Soon enough, I'm setting up my profile as I kick my feet in bed. The pictures I use are the ones normally locked in my private folder. One with me on my knees with a collar around my neck, another taken from behind with my ass red from spanking, and one with me face down, back arched, in a latex bodysuit.
The bio reads, “Clementine,” because using my real name on an app would be insane—anonymous or not.
After finishing my profile, I put my phone down to make myself lunch. My stepdad is in the kitchen when I get there, sitting at the kitchen counter with his laptop.
“Hi dad,” I say. It'd taken a while to get used to calling him that without feeling like I was betraying my own father from beyond the grave.
He looks up and his piercing stare sends shivers down my spine per usual. He's a pretty good-looking man, with his man bun, nerdy glasses and rippling muscles. Anyone would be attracted to him. I definitely am.
“Hey, Bridgette. Didn't think you were home?” he replies. “Done with your paper?”
“Getting sustenance so I can finish,” I correct, opening the fridge. Lucky me, there's some leftover cake from my birthday last week.
My stepdad chuckles. “Knock yourself out then.”
I take the cake back to my room, pick up my phone, and settle down at my desk. “Oh wow, a match already?”
'Bear' was a reasonably buff man with tattoos on his back. His bio said he was 46 and had a DDLG kink, as well as an exhibitionism kink.
“Does not mind putting little girls in their places,” I murmur, eyes scanning his profile.
He had a faceless photo of himself shirtless on a chair, manspreading, with a belt in hand.
I swallow. “This might actually work.”
So I strike up a conversation.
Bear apparently was in the military once upon a time, but now he works in real estate. I ask if he's married, to which he hesitates, but eventually admits that yes, he is.
'Well, I won't tell your wife if you don't', I text back good-naturedly.
'You've got yourself a deal :-)'
I spend the weekend texting Bear. Something about him feels eerily familiar, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what.
He's calm and respectful of my boundaries—doesn't ask too many questions or pry. It's almost like he doesn't care to know me at all.
I manage to bring it up in one conversation and he seems to be struck dumb for a few minutes.
'That's not true,' he finally says, 'I just feel like I know you already. I won't take anything you're not offering.'
At this point, I really want to meet him in person. I tell him as much, and I can practically feel his surprise.
'Just like that?'
'Just like that,' I reply.
'Hm. Are there any coffee shops near you?'
'There are, in fact. My favorite is Gianni's, just down the block.'
'Good. I'm going to leave my credit card at Gianni's for you at 9:20am, so you can buy whatever you think we'll need for our… activities.'