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Every time you step through the door of that house, you tell yourself it’s just for her, your friend, for the bond you share, for the routine you've both grown used to.
But deep down, beneath your skin, you know that’s not the whole truth.
There’s something else pulling you back there. Like a magnet.
Him. James Hetfield. Her father.
His name alone carries weight, a heaviness that settles in your chest.
But it’s not just the name, it’s his presence that unravels you, no matter how hard you try to ignore it.
He’s so much older than you. Old enough to be your father.
He’s famous. Untouchable.
A man who lives in a world so far from yours, it shouldn’t even make sense.
And yet every time you pass him in the hallway, every time that deep, warm voice of his breaks the silence, something stirs inside you.
Something you can’t name.
A quiet, slow-burning desire that you try to hide, even from yourself.
So intense it frightens you. So forbidden you dare not say it out loud.
The night before, you’d had a sleepover, and you’d left a few things behind. So you came back to get them.
Your friend isn’t home, but she told you not to worry, the bodyguards know you.
After all, that’s like a second home to you.
You walk slowly through the hallways, letting the stillness of the huge house wrap around you like a blanket.
Then you stop.
A door, slightly open, catches your eye.
You’ve never seen it before. Never even noticed it.
You’ve certainly never been inside.
Curiosity creeps in, soft and persistent.
You reach out.
Your fingers brush the edge of the door.
You push it open, just enough.
Inside, sunlight spills through heavy curtains, casting the room in golden shadows.
Guitars hang on the walls like relics, and framed photographs of celebrities line the space, frozen moments in lives much larger than yours.
The room smells of leather, guitars, and something else, something masculine, warm, and hard to name.
And then you see him.
Standing there, with his back to you.
His sleeves are rolled up, and he’s unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly. Maybe he’s changing. Or maybe he just needs to catch his breath and relax.
You freeze.
Not just from shock, but from something alive and burning low in your belly.
Then he turns, slowly.
His eyes meet yours, you don’t move.
He doesn’t look startled. He doesn’t tell you to leave. He just watches you, curious.
«I’m sorry… Mr. Hetfield… I—»
Your voice catches. Barely a whisper.
You want to run, disappear into the hallway, but your eyes won’t leave him his bare chest, the veins in his forearms, the tattoo peeking out from beneath the open fabric.
“Everything alright, Y/N?” His voice is calm. Unmoving. His presence fills the room like gravity.
You nod quickly, but stay silent. Words have vanished somewhere in the back of your mind.
But your eyes, they betray you.
They drift downward, following the open line of his shirt. They stop at the last button still holding it together. The only thing keeping the rest of him hidden.
Then, slowly, they rise. Up to meet his gaze.
He smiles. Not arrogantly, but with quiet confidence. Like he knows. Knows something you’re not ready to admit, not even to yourself.
You flush instantly. Look away so fast the room seems to spin.
“Yes… I’m fine, I just... I walked into the wrong room” you mumble, hoping your voice isn’t shaking as much as your hands.
His head tilts slightly. And then he speaks, low and rough, like gravel wrapped in velvet.
“Do you like what you see, Y/N?” The words hit you like a wave.
Heat crawls up your legs, twists in your stomach. You don’t know what to say.
No answer feels safe, none feels honest enough. But your eyes… they’ve already spoken for you.
He steps closer, just slightly. Enough to make the air shift.
“I do…” he murmurs, voice deep, deliberate.
“I like seeing you walk around my house. In those little skirts. You want to be looked at, don’t you?”
His eyes travel downward, from your face, to the curve of your chest, and lower still.
Taking in every inch of you. Studying you.
You swallow hard still unable to speak.
But you don’t move, you stay exactly where you are, heart pounding like a drum, hands stiff at your sides, skin burning.
“Come here.” His voice is low. An order, not a request.
You hesitate, just for a moment. The whole thing feels surreal.
James lowers himself onto the leather couch nearby, legs apart, eyes locked on you. Steady. Unflinching.
You take a few uncertain steps toward him, heart pounding, body burning from the inside out.
He reaches for you. His hand wraps around your wrist large, radiating a strength that feels barely restrained.
His touch sends a slow heat crawling under your skin, and yet... his grip is gentle.
Almost careful.
His eyes meet yours. “Only if you want to… of course”
he murmurs, voice rough but soft at the edges, looking for your answer in your eyes.
You don’t answer, you just move closer. Your body shifts instinctively, as if to straddle him, but his hands stop you, firm, deliberate. Instead, he guides you down onto his thigh.
And that’s where you stay, perched on the strong line of his leg.
The thin fabric of your panties presses against the rough denim of his jeans, and the friction sends a shiver racing up your spine.
Everything around you blurs, softens,
like the edge of a dream.
“Don’t rush” he murmurs, voice low and warm, wrapping around you like smoke.
“Let me look at you.”
He bounces his leg up and down, studying your every movement with his eyes as you begin to grind against it, slowly at first, almost timidly, then increasing the pressure against your pussy. You let out a soft moan as the friction of your bodies begins to send shockwaves of pleasure right there on your clit, still covered by your thin panties.
"Do you like it, babe... don't you?" His voice is warm and reassuring.
"Mmh Y-yes, sir...so good" you whisper, biting your lower lip.
He brings your hands to his chest, and the added contact sets you on fire. You increase the pace slightly, your hips rocking first back and forth, then in a circular motion, your eyes half-closing. You want to feel his erection between your legs, but he's in no rush, he wants to admire you like this, aroused even just by the feel of his leg between your thighs. He continues to move his leg up and down against your groin, and when you open your eyes slightly, you see him staring at you with a smug smile, almost devilish in his awareness.
His thumb traces the shape of your lips as you continue to grind against his thigh slowly, desperately.
You part your mouth, just slightly, enough to welcome him. You take his finger in, sucking gently, then biting down with soft, teasing pressure.
Your eyes never leave his. Locked. Burning.
Impatience coils inside you, sharp and restless. You want him, so deeply, so intensely, it almost makes you ashamed of yourself.
Every slight movement of his leg draws a small moan from you, his every touch makes you tremble. His eyes go down to watch as your hips bucked over his knee, and his jeans quickly dampen from your slick wetness.
"You're so sensitive, baby... I fucking love it" he exclaims, gently touching one of your breasts, caressing it in a circular motion, then moving on to stimulate your small, hard nipple under your shirt. You feel your cheeks growing hotter, your breathing short and uneven. "Sir... please..." you beg, feeling the heat spread from your cheeks throughout your body.
"Please what? Use your words, doll" he commands in a firm, low tone.
"I need it..." you find yourself saying, the words coming out of your mouth instinctively.
"Need what? You need the cock of a man who can be your father? Is that what you mean? Hum?" he continues teasing you, his knee applying just a little more pressure between your legs.
Before you can answer his hands end up on the small of your back, pulling you into his lap until there’s no space left to pretend. He begins kissing your neck with slow, hot kisses, biting small portions of skin as you begin to move on top of him again, this time feeling his big boner pressing against your pussy, his breath catching against your neck.
“Do you feel how fucking hard you made me?" he murmurs, his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Mmmh yes.. I need it now.. In my little pussy.. please" you cry out grinding desperately against his bulge.
He undoes your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in one slow movement. Soon you’re left almost completely naked before him. His eyes fix on your white panties, whose now damp fabric reveals the outline of your lips.
“Damn… you’re dripping” he whispers, enchanted by that sight.
With eager hands, he slips his thick fingers under the fabric of your panties, slipping through your slick folds as you mewl against his lips before he slides your panties to the side.
You undo his jeans and he helps you by sliding them down his thighs. Your hands reach for his boxers, your slender fingers push down the elastic of his underwear, his big cock springing free, the pink head swollen and glistening rubs against the moisty skin of your pussy. His breathing become unsteady when he begin to roll his hips against your heat, and fully slots the head of his cock inside your needy little entrance. You whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. He only growls in response, slowly pushing deeper, his strong fingers hook into your hips, his eager hands guiding you.
"God... is so...so big... I - I can't..." you whimper, trying to adapt to his size, moving slowly on top of him, desperately holding on to his powerful shoulders.
"Yes, you can, babe... take your time... like that, slow..." his voice guides your movements.
You blink at him, wide-eyed, trying to drag in air as he strokes your cheek gently. There's no way you'd make it through this without his low, coaxing murmurs in your ear.
The stretch burns, overwhelming, your body trembling as you sink lower. His cock feels impossibly thick, your walls clenching desperately around him, a frustrated whimper slips from your lips, and James exhales a low laugh, his head tilting back against the couch.
Your hips roll against him again-still tentative, but with a flicker of need behind it. You try to breathe through it, but it catches, and your thighs tighten around him instinctively.
You hold back a moan by biting your lips. He notices everything.
"You're trying so hard to be quiet. Like someone might hear what you're doing on my lap...It's just the two of us, sweety. Let go... Let me hear you." His lips press hot open mouthed kisses along your jaw. You don't answer, your breath is stuck in your throat, half-lost in the space between your bodies. His big hand slides up your thigh and rests there, warm, possessive, squeezing it.
“God, I feel so dirty..” you manage to say between sighs.
"Because you are sweety.. a little dirty girl.. and that's perfect just like this.." One of his hands grips your waist firmly, setting the rhythm of your movements with steady confidence. The other moves behind your back, diving into your hair, gathering it into a tight ponytail wrapped around his wrist, and giving it a gentle tug, just enough to expose the delicate skin of your neck to his ravenous mouth.
"Just ride me baby" he growls against your skin.
From that moment on, you become a different person, quickly increasing the pace, shifting from gentle, steady rolling motions to bouncing on his cock, moaning louder and louder, letting yourself go to the pleasure taking him all the way in.
"O-ohh—fuck" he groans, his brows slightly pinched together as he feels the way your tight, wet pussy squeezes him.
Even in his own haze he's still watching you, half-lidded blue eyes focused on the way your lips part, the way your perky breasts bounce in front of him.
"That's it. feels so fucking good honey."
As you pick up the pace, you feel your instincts take over and you follow what your body tells you, what it needs. Your hands end up on his legs behind you, and by raising your knees, you expose yourself entirely to his gaze, which immediately lights up. "God look at you...so beautiful...taking me so good." He looks at you as if he were going to eat you alive, as if you were his prey. With one hand, he moves your panties even further so he can fully enjoy the show.
"Are you on birth control right? 'Cause I'm about to come so deep inside of you, babe..." he murmurs, his breath ragged with moans.
"Mmmh y-yes...you can fill me up Sir.." you gasp, feeling overwhelmed by unstoppable pleasure, your mind blurring, your eyes rolling back in your head.
You clench around him, almost sucking him in as if you never wanted to let go, as if he were meant to stay inside you forever, all the way.
You feel the tip of his cock slamming against your g-spot, rhythmic and perfect, feeling his entire length push inside you, following your movements.
"Fuck... mmmh so close..." you whimper, feeling the pleasure increase with each thrust.
"Good girl, cum for me.. soak me, babe.." His hand grips your ankle tightly while the other lands on your clit, caressing and teasing it, making you even more sensitive than you already were. Your moans become loud, desperate, uncontrollable, and before you know it, you're collapsing on top of him, racked by deep, powerful spasms as you feel him fill you completely, squeezing your ass tightly, fingers digging into your flesh, his muffled, raspy moans against your ear.
"Ohhh my god...god yes mmh" your voice cracking with pleasure as your fingers thread through his graying hair.
Your knees sink back into the leather of the couch. You're breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, but James can't seem to get enough, he drives your hips against him, moaning and growling in your ear.
"I'm ruined..." you whisper, your mouth pressed against his half-open shoulder, gasping for air.
"No, babe, you're not" he growls, voice low and hungry. "Keep goin- don't stop now." He presses into you harder, ignoring how your legs shake and your breath comes in ragged gasps, loving the way you' re losing control.
His arms grip you like a vice, his hands planted in your buttocks keeping you glued to his body, you're intoxicated by his heat and scent, surrendering yourself entirely to him.
You still feel him fully hard inside you as he slowly moves, thrusting into you from below, making you jump.
You moan softly, the friction of his relaxed abdomen against your clit awakening your body. You lift your head from his shoulder, and you gaze at each other for a second before he pulls you closer, kissing you, never stopping to buck beneath you.
Then his grip suddenly shifts, his broad hands gripping the back of your thighs. He lifts you up, then pushes you down with firm motions, burying his length entirely inside you. The sound that comes from your mouth pierces the air, raw and needy.
Your head lulls forward, incoherent words slipping past your lips. He keeps going like that for a while, then leans forward, pulling your chest to his as his hips meet yours, snapping upward at a brutal pace making it impossible for you to even think clearly.
You moan, letting you go into his embrace as he plows up into you, the juices of both of you dribbling down your thighs and seeping into his pants.
But he doesn't give a shit.
Not when you’re babbling, unable to speak treading the fine line between moaning and screaming as his tip rubs that spongy spot deep inside you making you tightening around his cock once more.
“you gonna cum for me again pretty girl?m h” he whispers, his voice low and breathy.
"Y-yes.. ffuck.. yesyes" you stutter.
You feel completely lost, destroyed by the way he's fucking you, simply holding and moving you with his arms, using you as if you were his toy. When you feel his hand tighten around your neck, making you gasp for breath, you lose control, your legs tighten against his hips, and your body is shaken by uncontrollable spasms.
"Fuckkk fuck..oh my g-god." You let out a whimper followed by an exaggerated moan.
It's been a few minutes since your first orgasm and you're back to a sweaty, fucked out, overstimulated mess but you can't stop riding him even when he comes inside you for the second time filling you again with a low, primal grow.
"Mmmh Fuckin' hell" he breathes out.
You slump exhausted against his chest, his ragged breathing lulling you as his lips find the thin, moist skin of your neck, leaving light, delicate kisses.
"How do you feel?" he asks, amused, as he catches his breath.
"Full" you admit, still numb with pleasure. James bursts into an amused laugh as his hand caresses your entire back, starting at the nape of your neck and ending at the dimples just above your butt.
"I knew you weren't so innocent after all... I always knew."