He’s set it on a random pattern so that it changes every couple of minutes, and I can’t get used to it.
“Um, hey, Aus,” he says. “Hang on a minute, okay?”
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. You caught me by surprise, is all. I’m not dressed.” He’s sort of frozen in place, like his brain just blue-screened. He locks the door and turns, running a hand through his hair as he heads toward his closet.
“What’s going on?” she calls and we both hear her try the knob.
“What are you doing home, honey?”
“Dad? Why’d you lock the door?”
“Because I just told you, I’m not dressed.”
I know one day we’ll look back on this and laugh.
But not tonight.
He emerges from his closet with a pair of shorts in his hands and stumbles as he tries to pull them on while walking.
George unlocks the door and cracks it open just a little, so he can peek out. He can’t open the door enough to slip through it if she’s standing right there, though, because then there’s no way she can’t see me.
I, however, have a slight problem. The butt plug has changed vibration patterns again, to a tantalizing hum. The way George has me trussed means now it’s pressing firmly against my prostate and threatening to send me over the edge.
I can’t help it—I whimper.
But George doesn’t even look my way.
“Um, honey? I thought you were supposed to call if you were coming home?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. It was a last-minute thing. Several of us are going out to dinner. I’m not staying long, just wanted to say hi. I’ll be back later, after dinner. What’s going on?”
“Are you alone?” he asks.
I freeze as I realize the full potential implications of this.
“Ashleigh and Jessica are waiting outside in the car. Why?”
“I need you to move back, sweetie.”
“What?”
“Aussie,stepback from the door.Please.”
Her tone changes, on guard now. “What’sgoing on, Dad?”
But apparently she moves, because he slips out, closing the door behind him, and their voices turn muffled.
I gasp, whining again. I clench my teeth around the ball gag and try to breathe through my growing predicament. I don’t want to disobey Sir.
And I’m kind of a moaner when I orgasm in a situation like this. I can’t help it. Both Casey and George have done a pretty damn good job of rewiring my brain. Now that we can safely have secret sex, they both enjoy making me moan.
I can’t hear what George and Aussie are talking about out in the hall, but the butt plug’s pattern changes again. Now it’s a deeper, stronger throb, and I catch myself starting to hump the air and grunt into the ball gag.
This isn’t going to end well. I desperately donotwant to disobey Sir, or freak Aussie out.
Even the silicone cockring George put on me isn’t really helping at this point.
