Stepdaddy, My Toy Is Stuck Inside Me Please Help Novel – Chapter 1 Lila’s POV “Oh, look who decided to grace us with her presence—the big-shot runaway. California? From Illinois? You really think you’re hot shit, Lila?” The second I pushed open the front door, Mom’s venom hit me like a slap. She’d been ripping into me for three straight weeks, ever since I got my acceptance letter. In seven days I’d be gone, and she was losing her favorite punching bag. “I’m telling you right now, don’t come crying to me when you’re broke and homesick. Not one damn penny!” “Let the kid breathe, Natalie.” Daniel’s deep voice cut through from the backyard, calm but carrying that unmistakable edge of warning. Mom shot me one last poisonous glare, muttered something about ungrateful bitches, and stormed out, heels clicking furiously across the hardwood. The front door slammed so hard the picture frames rattled. I let out a shaky breath. Daniel appeared in the doorway a moment later, wiping his hands on a rag. Even after all these years, the sight of him still made my stomach flip.
He’d been my stepdad since I was six, a retired NHL defenseman who’d played twelve seasons for the Blackhawks before a knee injury forced him out. Now he coached a local semi-pro team and still moved like a man who could dominate the ice—broad shoulders, powerful thighs, and that same quiet confidence that made arenas fall silent when he stepped onto the rink. The rumble of Mom’s car faded down the street. “She’s heading to some party tonight,” Daniel said, crossing the kitchen in a few easy strides. He stopped in front of me, warm brown eyes softening. “She’ll probably drink too much and crash at her friend’s. You can actually relax for once, baby girl.” My throat tightened. I sniffed instead of answering, eyes stinging. Daniel sighed and opened his thick arms. “C’mere.” I didn’t hesitate. I jumped up just like I had when I was little. He caught me easily, big hands sliding under my ass to hoist me higher.
I wrapped my legs tight around his waist, arms locked around his neck, and buried my face in the warm crook of his shoulder. God, he smelled incredible—faint cologne mixed with fresh-cut grass and that masculine scent that was just… him. I breathed him in like I was drowning. “Damn, you’re a lot heavier than you used to be,” he teased, bouncing me once playfully before pretending to lose his grip. I squealed and clung tighter. “No way! I’ve been dieting all summer—I lost ten pounds!” I protested, wriggling against him. His low chuckle vibrated through his chest. “Sure you did, princess. Keep telling yourself that.” I pressed closer, thighs squeezing his lean, powerful waist. My short denim skirt had ridden up, and through the thin fabric of his gray sweatpants I felt it—his cock, thick and heavy, swelling against my pussy with every shift of my hips. It wasn’t his belt. It was him. Hard. Getting harder. My face burned, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I rolled my hips again, slow and deliberate, grinding my soaked panties along that thick ridge. “Settle down, Lila,” Daniel growled, voice dropping an octave.
His hand came down in a sharp smack on my bare ass cheek. The sting made me gasp. “You’re gonna slip right out of Daddy’s arms if you keep that up.” As if to prove his point, he stepped forward, pressing my back against the wall. His massive frame pinned me there, one hand gripping my thigh while the other braced beside my head. His hips rocked forward, dragging his now rock-hard cock right against my clit through my panties. The thin cotton was useless. I could feel every inch of him—hot, pulsing, dangerously close to pushing inside. “There we go… good girl,” he murmured, breath warm against my ear. “Don’t stay mad at your mom. We’ll figure something out, okay?” He set me down gently, but not before giving my ass one last possessive squeeze. Then he stepped behind the kitchen island, clearly trying to hide the massive bulge tenting his sweatpants. “So… what’re you craving for lunch? Takeout, or you feeling brave enough to risk my cooking?” He flashed that charming half-smile, the one that had probably melted plenty of puck bunnies back in his playing days. “Anything’s fine,” I mumbled, cheeks still flaming. “Yours is always good.” I bolted upstairs before he could say anything else. “Bam!” My bedroom door slammed shut. I face-planted onto the bed and screamed into my pillow, legs still trembling.
I wanted him. I wanted my stepdad to fuck me senseless. It wasn’t the first time the thought had consumed me. Ever since Sophie and I snuck that dirty movie in ninth grade, every fantasy ended the same way—Daniel pinning me down, spreading my legs, and driving that huge cock into me until I couldn’t think straight. At first I hated myself for it. He was the only real father I’d ever known. But the more I tried to push it away, the stronger it got. He’d noticed when I started avoiding him. One morning he drove me to school, and when we pulled up he reached over to unbuckle my seatbelt. His big body filled the space, and he looked at me with those concerned eyes. “What’s going on with my little girl, huh?” he’d asked softly. “Did Daddy do something wrong?” I’d almost come undone right there. My hand slid into my panties on autopilot, fingers circling my swollen clit. But no matter how fast I rubbed, it wasn’t enough.
I needed more. I remembered Sophie’s words from last week: “Girl, just get a damn vibrator already. You’re too chickenshit to ride your hot stepdad, so at least pretend it’s his dick stretching you out.” Biting my lip, I reached under my pillow for my phone. That’s when I saw the delivery notification. Package out for delivery. ETA: 12 p.m. My heart stopped. Sophie had texted me at 10 a.m.: “Hey bitch, I knew you’d chicken out so I ordered it for you. Have fun breaking it in before college. Don’t thank me too hard！” It was 12:10 now. The doorbell rang downstairs. “Hey, good afternoon! Delivery for Lila Griffith!” Oh fuck.