At the very least, I’ll finally get some alpha dick. I doubt Reed is here to paint the house or fix the shed in the back, to get up with the girls at the crack of dawn and make them breakfast, to take them to school, to babysit, to shovel snow.
He’s here to get laid, maybe for one night, a few nights, a month even, then he’ll be gone. It’s fine. I need to get laid too, so win-win for both of us.
“You’re sitting too far away,” he says. “Come here. I bite.” He grabs my foot and drags me across the couch, then scoops me up and puts me on his lap. He grabs a fistful of my hair and tightens his grip, and my channel pulses with need.
“I have to make sure the girls won’t hear or see us,” I say.
“Is their door closed?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me worry about them.”
“You can’t worry about them. That’s what I do.”
“I can worry about everything for you, Tammy. I’m really good at it.” He pecks my lips. “How did you get custody of the girls? I know they’re not yours.”
“They’re very much mine.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says and proceeds to kiss my neck. I cream my panties instantly. My breaths come out faster.
“My sister and her husband died in a car crash when the girls were about two years old.”
He wraps his arms around me and brings me closer, leaving me little choice but to lean into his shoulder and practically bury my nose in the crook of his neck. He smells like a man who wears leathers, rides bikes, and plays with guns. I’ll have to guard my heart with a pitchfork.
His palm slides over my thigh, then up and under my sweater. I gasp as he makes contact with my bare skin. His hand moves to the back and unsnaps my bra.
“Take off your sweater and bra and stand between my legs, facing the TV.”
I lift my head off his shoulder and lock eyes with him.
“Was I unclear?” he asks.
“Very clear, sir.” Sir slips out of my mouth on its own, and Reed smiles.
“Thata girl.” He slaps my ass and practically throws me off his lap, turning me around.
I remove my sweater, slide off my bra. My breasts are big, far too big for my frame, and kids back in middle school used to make fun of them. I blossomed into a woman too soon, and tits this big on a small-framed girl stick out like two sore thumbs. I’ve spent most of my life hunching my shoulders to make them appear smaller.
“Slide your jeans down,” he says.
I unbutton them, my heart doing flip-flops. His way of undressing me is unexpected. I thought we’d make out on the couch and I’d suck his dick and send him home, but I can’t stop now. I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Something that sparks my erotic fantasies with men who aren’t afraid to tie me up.
I lift one leg as if to get out of the jeans, but he captures my wrist. “Leave them on.” He pulls the jeans up so they stop around my thighs. “Spread your legs and bend over.”
My breasts feel like they weigh a ton as I press my palms on the table in front of me.
Reed rips my panties, and I twist to protest because those were my best pair, but he shoves them into my mouth. “So you don’t scream and wake up the girls. Told you I’d do the worrying. Now turn around and keep your head in front of you, or I’llhave to bend you over my knee. Eventually, I’ll do that, just not tonight, because I want to hear you beg me to stop spanking you for making me run seven miles.”
I turn around and stare at the table.
Warm palms grab my ass cheeks, and a wet tongue slides from my clit to my ass, where it lingers, poking inside my secret little hole nothing ever poked like this, and I widen my eyes, unsure if I like it or not. But my body knows what it likes, and I push back against his face.
He grabs both my breasts and kneads them, pulling me to him more, poking my wet place with his tongue. Holding my breasts, he moves me back and forth and fucks me with his tongue while my clit keeps hitting his chin, and every time it hits it, he rubs his chin on it. I push back and grind myself into his face, and he groans quietly, then sucks my clit into his mouth.
My eyes roll back, and I’m coming. My knees lock, I push back more, and when he pinches my nipples, I bite down on the panties in my mouth so I don’t scream in the back of my throat. Because I’m a deprived single woman, my orgasm lasts for a minute, not a few seconds, and I keep coming until my knees buckle.
Reed pulls my hips down, and I sit on his jeans. He’s hard and not done, apparently, because his hands come around me and knead my breasts some more. I lean back on his shoulder, spent and ready to go to bed with him. But I can’t do that. I really can’t. Can I, though?
