Filthy logo

An Unexpected Gift

by Heather Kinnane 5 months ago in fiction
Report Story

When Tasha’s estranged mother leaves her a house, the last thing Tasha expects is to find a lover.

An Unexpected Gift
Photo by Scott Broome on Unsplash

The letter had been a surprise, so much so Tasha had thought it was a scam and thrown it in the bin.

The friend she was staying with had pulled it out, encouraged her to at least search the lawyer’s name and find out if he was legit.

And here she was. Sitting in that same lawyers waiting room, waiting to hear her estranged mother’s will.

A young man came in and sat opposite her. She nodded a hello and turned back to her magazine. After a moment a prickling feeling on the back of her neck made her glance up. She caught the man’s gaze, briefly, before he looked away, a flush creeping up his cheeks.

Was he watching her?

She took a moment to check him out. Short hair, cropped close to his scalp, the barest covering of whiskers on his chin, a jacket that fit him snug across the shoulders. He was attractive, that was certain, and not as young as she thought on first glance, her age, or maybe a little older. She felt her nipples harden at the thought that maybe he might be attracted to her, too.

The lawyer emerged from his room, and Tasha was surprised to find he wasn’t only calling her, he was calling this fellow in, too. Brad someone or other.

She had a sudden thought that he was a long lost brother and her stomach twisted.

Please don’t let me have been checking out my brother!

The lawyer was brusque and to the point. Her mother had died, and had left her house to Tasha and this Brad.

His eyes were as wide as hers.

“Why would my mother leave anything to me?” she asked. At exactly the same time Brad asked the same question.

“I had no idea this woman existed until we walked into this room together,” he objected.

The lawyer had no answer for that, only two keys — one for each of them.

Tasha sure as hell wasn’t going to stay in a hotel if she didn’t have to.

The house was small, but comfortable. Tasha got there first and claimed the main room, though it was strange, still containing all her mother’s things, as well as the clothes of some guy. Couldn’t he at least taken his stuff with him?

“That would be mine.” Brad entered the room, closing his underwear drawer just as she started rummaging through it.


He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “I guess I’m your step-dad. Or, well, used to be.”

Tasha snorted. “You? You look like you’re about 30.”

“Thirty-five actually.”

“You’re barely older than me!”

She learned he was her mother’s live-in carer for a while. That she’d been sick. It should’ve given Tasha a twinge of guilt perhaps, but it didn’t. She’d never looked after Tasha as a child, Tasha didn’t owe her anything like that.

They’d fallen in love. He’d admired her fierce, stubborn streak. The strength she had to push on despite her diagnosis. She’d promised him the house, said she had no one else to give it to. Made him marry her, so the hand-over would be easy.

“She owes me this,” he said.

“Then let’s sell it. Go halves.”

Brad shook his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s worth? It’s falling to pieces, crumbling around our ears. You wouldn’t even have enough for a deposit on another place, assuming you could actually get a mortgage to go with it.”

“You want a place that’s falling down?”

“I know how to fix it up.”

Tasha slumped back in the chair, her mind whirring. “So lets keep it. I’ll take the spare room. I’ll help you fix it.”

He told her she was crazy. But she’d been couch surfing for weeks. There was no way she was going back to that.

At first they kept everything separate, cooked their own meals, did their own laundry. They worked together, replacing damaged tiles, and filling gaps in the weatherboards, painting and scraping and sanding.

It seemed weird to work together and then eat separately. Brad suggested they take in turns cooking.

He was a good cook. And he was kind, and caring.

They bumped into each other as they worked, a strange tingle spreading up Tasha’s arms to become a warmth that filled her chest.

Then he walked in on her in the shower.

His eyes were wide before he pulled them away. “Shit. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

It took Tasha a moment to recover. “Brad, wait. Come back.”

He opened the bathroom door a peep.

“Come in. Please. I’d like you to.”

She turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself while he averted his gaze.

“You can look, if you want.”

He was cautious, then relaxed when he saw she had the towel.

“You’re attractive, you know.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And you’re her daughter.”

“Does it matter? You’re closer to my age than you ever were to hers. And it’s been six months now.” Her gaze dropped to the tent in his pants, and she took a step forward. “I want you, Brad. If you’ll have me.”

His gaze caught hers and he licked his lips. “You won’t think I’m a terrible?”

She snorted. “Of course not.” She reached out and stroked his cock through his trousers. “I’d like to suck you, if you want me to.”

He swallowed again, nodded. “I’d love that.” His voice was husky.

Tasha dropped to her knees, and pulled down the waistband of his trousers. His cock was thick, and she stroked it a few times before opening her mouth and covering the head.

He groaned.

She circled the head with her tongue, flicking at the slit in the top before sucking a moment and then opening her mouth wider to take more of him.

He groaned again. A desperate, strangled sound. Tasha bobbed up and down, giving his balls a gentle squeeze.

“Shit. I’m coming.”

She lapped it all up, sucking him clean.


She raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you been taking care of yourself?”

“Are you kidding? These walls are paper thin. I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of perve.”

A sly smile spread across Tasha’s face. “You’ve been listening to me fap!”

He cheeks went red. “I tried to cover my ears.”

She stood, and pulled him close for a kiss. His lips were soft, warm, his kisses gentle. She let the towel fall to the floor.

“I think it might be time for me to make it up to you for all the blue balls you must’ve been suffering.”

She took his hand, and placed it on her breast.

He grazed a nipple with his thumb, as she pulled on his cock again. It didn’t take long to bring it to hardness, and when it was erect again she lifted a leg around his.

“Pick me up. Do me on the vanity.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

He set her arse on the edge of the bench, his cock sliding inside. He was desperately horny, she could tell by the way he held her, an arm around her shoulders and one around her waist, hodling her close as though she might change her mind at any minute.

He pounded in to her, his thrusts hard and fast, and in moments they were both moaning and groaning again, coming together this time.

“Shit,” he said as he pulled out. “I didn’t even think about a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.” She cupped his cheek, and pulled him close for another kiss. “And I’d like to do that again.”

His gaze searched out hers.

“So do you want to join me in my bed?” she continued. “Or shall we sleep in yours from now on?”

“Your bed,” he said. “But perhaps we could bring it into my room.”

She grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”


About the author

Heather Kinnane

Author of bite-sized steamy romance and erotica. She/Her. For longer works check out my website:

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.