She looks at me from beneath her lashes. “You really think so?”
“Fuck yeah.”
She still looks dubious, so I bounce her up and down on my lap until her giggle fills the room, even though her lacy, wet sex smacking down on me is pure torture. Even though her jiggling tits sink me into even more sexual frustration.
We’re both breathing hard by the time I stop.
She stares down at me. I stare back up at her.
“I always wonder what it would be like to have someone touch them,” she says, softly, lifting her hands, circling her peaked nipples with her middle fingers.
Sick with need, I reach for them, but she tumbles onto her side before I can fill my palms, laughing playfully as she lands on her back beside me on the mattress. A horny siren in nothing but panties and a big smile. Son of a bitch, she is a thing of beauty. I don’t deserve such perfection, but my body compels me to take. Compels me beyond any warnings or common sense or rules.
I roll on top of her so fast, she squeaks, her eyes flying wide.
“It keeps getting harder, Daddy.”
I lean down and speak against her ear. “You’remaking me hard, little girl.”
Her nervous gasp shouldn’t make me need to fuck so bad. God help me, it does.
I’ve lost my grip on control as I come up on my knees, lean forward above her and plant my left hand among the pillows. In my right hand, I fist my cock, letting her see it. Letting her watch me stroke it roughly while looking directly at her tits. “Push them together around my dick,” I say, guiding my shaft to that soft valley, caging her in with my planted knees when she tries to flee.
I spit into her gasping mouth. Then again on the trunk of my cock, lubing myself up.
“Do it, you little tease.”
thirteen
Shea
Oh,mygoodness!
When Jason spits into my mouth, I hear a crackling in my ears. Like a fire is burning to life to match the one in my tummy. This one is coming to life in my psyche, though. The part of me that lays on my back right now for a man old enough to be my father, ready to follow him into hell if just soothes the nasty ache between my thighs. The one I’ve had for three days. I’ve been in a famine without him.
Struggling to breathe, I push my breasts together, moaning when Jason starts to pump his enormous sex through the middle of them, his pathway slickened by spit, his face twisting in a mask of ecstasy. Mine must look exactly the same way, becauseoh wow. What I’m looking up at is the most incredible, erotic sight. This man, his powerful body a network of tattoos, is fully nude. Rocking his hips. His jaw is slack, his eyes bright with unspent lust, all of it homing in on me.
“Is this wrong?” I whisper, watching that bulbous head spear through, retreat, spear through, disappear halfway. Faster, faster, to match his punctuated grunts.
“Yes,” he manages, slowing down. “I should stop. Oh God, I should stop.”
The walls of my sex converge almost violently over his continuation of our play.
I don’t know why I love this so much. This game.
Maybe because it feels so real.
Maybe because he…hasbecome a father figure and a lover at the same time. Or maybe I just sensed that he could fulfill the unknown inside of me.
Whatever the reason, I never want to stop.
“Let me just take a second to calm down, angel,” he rasps, tearing himself away from me. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he puts his head in his hands, his mighty back heaving, along with his sides. “I’m sorry. Lately you just get me so…”
“What?” I whisper, kneeling behind him, stroking my fingertips down his spine.
He shudders. “Aroused.”
I bite my lip to keep from crying out, the throb between my legs almost unbearable now. Devouring the sight of his broad shoulders, the weathered masculinity of his skin, I slip my panties off, leaving my body completely nude. Soundlessly, I climb off the bed and move to stand in front of him, naked as a sacrifice in the moonlight, his resulting groan cutting right through me. Sensitizing me everywhere.
