Строгий папа не дал поиграть в комп после учебы

He totally “не дал поиграть” like he was serious for a second, but honestly, his whole strict-dad act crumbled the moment I bent over the kitchen counter to grab a snack, and instead of heading to my computer, I felt his hands slide up my thighs under this plaid school skirt, and suddenly we were both forgetting about homework and gaming entirely. The vibe shifted from annoyed to electric so fast—he pressed me against the fridge, all that fake authority turning into this raw, hungry energy, whispering that he had way better plans for my evening than some stupid quest. I could hear the ice maker hum while his fingers traced higher, and I just melted, letting him spin me around so my back hit the cold tile, my heart pounding as he hitched my leg up and pushed inside me right there, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to make me forget every excuse I’d made to log on. We were breathless, messy, and the whole kitchen smelled like oranges from the juice I’d spilled, and honestly, that substitute for playtime beat any boss fight I’d ever grinded through.