Fuck me, these photos are incredible. Being on the receiving end of her intoxicating gaze, when she was close enough to touch, had my self-control stretched thinner than ever before. Straddling her body was an exercise of pure restraint. I work through one photo at a time at my home desk with editing software, adjusting the lighting to highlight her curves.Unreal.
I click through a few, until the one of her staring up at me while on the floor stops me in my tracks—those emerald eyes destroy me with one glance. It’s not even a pose I plan on painting; I just wanted to see how she would react. Not to mention, get a preview of what it’ll look like someday when I’m between her legs, right before she takes every inch. The need in her expression, her hard pierced nipples poking through the shirt, the hitch in her breath—she wasn’t just acting, she was aroused, and these shots are proof. Putting her in those positions like she was my plaything had my pulse pounding.
I’ve got her right where I want her . . . and she has no fucking idea.
The comment about me seeing her as a sibling was icing on the cake. That couldn’t have been better timed. I haven’t seen her like a sister since not long after she returned from college. That’s when I stopped calling her Junior and started referring to her as Chaos. That’s what she felt like. She left a kid and returned a goddamn siren. A woman I didn’t recognize. She dressed differently: Black pants hugged her thick thighs—thighs I wanted to sink my teeth into. Crop tops that left little to the imagination, especially when her nipples—that are pierced—peeked through the fabric. Her hair and nails were a glossy black, but it wasn’t some bullshit edgy art-grad persona she invented. She was sexy and sure of herself like I’d never seen before, like she’d found who she was and embraced every ounce of it unapologetically. Not to mention, her talent as a burgeoning artist was off the charts. It was whiplash. My entire life I’ve had no problem maintaining discipline and control.Until Kelly.Kelly is my own personal Chaos.
I’ve honored Clyde’s wishes for three years, giving her the opportunity to live a little, grow up, and experience what life had to offer her, but now she’s going to find out whatIhave to offer.
He’s given me his blessing. And she’s twenty-six, the same age Clyde was when he met Kelly’s mom, and I plan to follow in his footsteps, making her my bride before she’s twenty-seven.
With each photo I swipe through, my dick strains harder against the fly of my jeans. When I can hardly stand it any longer, I unzip, shove my boxers out of the way, and wrap a fist around my aching cock, stroking it to the vision of her. Fuck. I’m throbbing, swollen, and desperate for release.
My imagination runs rampant with our future together, all the ways I plan to mark her and make her mine—especially on her knees, gazing up at me like she is on my screen. It won’t belong before I can look into her gorgeous eyes and bury a hand into her lush, black tousled hair as I relish the pouty red lips begging to be used. She’ll open her mouth, so soft and inviting, stick out her tongue, and I’ll slap the head against it while she whimpers for more. My grip will tighten around a fistful of hair while I guide her lips over me. She’ll swallow every inch like she was made for it, her bare tits bouncing as I fuck her pretty face.Fucking Chaos.
When I’ve had my fill of her mouth, I’ll flip her around and make her ride my tongue, grinding her sweet pussy against me—her little body trembling and shaking when she comes. She’ll gasp and moan until she forgets every name but mine.
I’ll have her paying off the debt of our years spent as “friends” by wringing one orgasm at a time from her needy cunt.
My palm works my cock, every pass more demanding than the last, feeling the burn in my forearm, as I keep myself close to the edge just long enough to savor the control and hot-as-fuck fantasy. I squeeze tighter, until my knuckles bloom white as pre-cum leaks from the tip. My dick twitches in my hand, and I twist my wrist, bringing myself to the verge of climax.
I’m not ashamed of my obsession with her or the many ways I plan to possess her body. I’ve been hers for years, and it’s time she repays the favor. It won’t be long before she peers up at me with the same hungry look she has on my monitor—craving sex. Craving me. Not someone like me . . .Me.
She’s the only woman who’s ever made me feel this alive—thisreal. I’m done worshipping her from a distance, I want to hold her, protect her, and claim her in my bed. Brutally show her she’s mine, every fucking day.
My fist pumps faster and my muscles tense as I imagine towering over her kneeled at my feet. Her posture perfect because she’s such a fucking good girl.
“That’s it, Chaos. Make me come.”
Her lashes flutter and her green eyes roll back when I fill up her greedy mouth with cum, her throat bobbing to swallow every drop, glancing up like it’s not enough. My back arches against the chair and I release into my hand, grunting as hot ropes spurt from the tip and roll down my knuckles. When I’m completely spent, I slump into the chair with my chest heaving.
My phone buzzes on the desk with a text notification. From her.
“Your timing is impeccable, sweetheart,” I mutter, grabbing the phone with my left since my right is still covered in the cum she earned.
Kelly
Hey, I wanted to ask you about that photo shoot we did…
My smile grows wider.It’s about time.
Yes?
An ellipsis dances across the screen for what feels like ten minutes. I eventually set the phone down and clean off my hand while I wait for her to finish whatever she’s about to confess, hopefully something she’s been stewing on since last night. My intent was to force her to question things—questionus. I want to see her come to that conclusion on her own, even if it is a roundabout way to not break my promise to him.
“Go on, ask me, Chaos. Ask me what you want to know.”
The dots stop moving, and I hold my breath waiting for it. For a split second, I consider whether she’s about to reject me. I shake my head. No fucking way. Chemistry as strong as ours is two-sided.
Then the dots start up again, and I throw my head back and groan. “What, is she typing out a fucking novel?”
A notification chimes, and my gaze darts to the screen.
Kelly
How did the pictures turn out?
I can’t help but bark out a laugh and shake my head. “Oh, come on.” She’s still too scared to admit it.So am I, my thoughts echo back. I type my response.
