Unholy Cravings and Desires

~ Amira ~

I’m Amira Jackson, and I’ve been fucking obsessed with my dad’s best friend since I was a teenager and now I’m twenty years old, and I can’t control it anymore.

It’s been a week since my dad dropped me off at Mr. Jeffrey’s house, I’d had a blowout fight with his new wife, the one he brought home so he decided I needed space.

He drove me straight to his best friend’s place to stay for a while.

Little did he know, he’d just handed me the best gift of my life.

Because Mr. Jeffrey is the man I’ve dreamed about for years. The one I’ve pictured bending me over his desk, fucking me mercilessly, pounding into me so hard and deep that I’m sobbing, begging for mercy and he doesn’t stop.

“Amira, we’re leaving! See you next week,” Joyce and Ethan called out, lifting their bags over their shoulders.

Mr. Jeffrey was divorced, so his sixteen-year-old twins always split their time between parents. This week it was their mom’s turn, which meant the big house would be empty except for him and me.

I followed them down the long driveway, Mr. Jeffrey walking just a step behind me and I was hyper-aware of how close he was—the faint scent of his cologne.

Their mother waited outside the gate in her silver SUV, engine idling. Joyce and Ethan threw their bags in the back, then turned to hug me.

“I’ll miss you guys,” I said, squeezing them both tight, mostly so I could steal a quick glance over Joyce’s shoulder at Mr. Jeffrey leaning against the gatepost, arms folded, watching us with that quiet, unreadable look he always has.

The kids climbed into the car, waving through the windows as their mom pulled away, I waved back until they turned the corner and disappeared.

Then it was just us.

The gate clanged shut behind me, I turned around slowly.

Mr. Jeffrey hadn’t moved, his dark eyes met mine, steady and calm, like he already knew exactly what kind of week this was about to become.

One whole week, no kids and no interruptions.

Just him and me in that big, quiet house.

And every filthy fantasy I’ve carried since I was old enough to have them.

The evening stretched out slow and heavy after the kids left, we ate dinner together…the steak he grilled, salad I threw together while making small talk about school and work.

But every time his eyes met mine across the table, my pulse jumped, every time his fingers brushed mine passing the salt, heat shot straight between my legs.

By nine o’clock he pushed back from the table.

“I’m gonna take a shower and turn in early,” he said, voice low and even. “Long week.”

I nodded, throat tight. “Goodnight, Mr. Jeffrey.”

He gave me a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and headed upstairs.

I waited exactly five minutes after I heard his bedroom door click shut.

Five minutes