Oh god, oh god, fuck yes, this was it. The water felt so good and I reached my other hand between my legs to spread my labia so that the spray could pound my clit, massaging me, making me whine and wriggle in the bath. Oh god, it was so slippery, nub pulsing with arousal, nipples about to burst, they were so hard and sensitized.
But it was the feeling in my cunt that drove me over the edge. The spray was so fucking good, making my clit shiver and twitch, and I pulled the shower head even closer to my pussy until I was blasting myself from only inches away. Mr. Parker, I moaned slightly, my lips parting to speak his name. Mr. Parker, Mr. Parker, I moaned over and over again, the syllables feeling so right on my lips as I dreamed of the big man, pretending he was there in the bathroom with me, watching me frig myself to heaven.
And with that, I came hard, pussy losing it. By now, the shower head was right up against my wet lips for maximum pressure and I burst, a hot gush of cream squirting from my hole, sweet white melting into the water. My boobs quivered and shook with orgasm, cunt clamping down hard, once, twice, then dissolving into a series of jerks and twitches as electricity shot to my fingers and toes, making them tense and clench, back arching as I came again and again.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, water was splashing everywhere now, my curvy body rocking in ecstasy. The non-stop thrashing caused tidal waves in the tub, displacing gallons of bath water, lapping over the edge again and again, so thunderous and right, and I let go completely, throwing my head back and moaning throatily, a deep, guttural cry of “Mr. Parkerrrrr!”
And finally, finally, it was over. Inhaling deeply, I leaned back in the tub, panting, slickly juicy as the trembling subsided, as the world came back into focus. Breathing hard, I let myself go for a moment, floating into the haze, my body relaxed yet alive, tingling with sensations. But a slight slapping sound invaded my reverie. It must have been my imagination because I was done, my orgasm subsided. But then the sound grew more distinct, more forceful. What the? It couldn’t be the water still sloshing on the floor, there was no more whirlpool, the storm had passed.
But the clapping was now even more distinct and I sat up sharply, eyes flying open. Oh god. It hadn’t been my imagination. Because there was Mr. Parker himself, blue gaze hot on me, still dressed in his suit pants and button-down shirt as he clapped, eyes devouring me.
“Mandy,” he ground out, blue gaze hot. “I had no idea you were so dirty.”
And I flushed. Holy shit, my boss had just caught me touching myself in the tub, blasting my pussy with water when I was supposed to be watching his daughter, when I was on his dime. And my eyes grew wide once more, chin trembling, senses on alert … because Mr. Parker was going to punish me, wasn’t he?
CHAPTER FOUR
Pete
The house was oddly silent when I got home. That wasn’t too strange, after all it was past Violet’s bedtime but usually Mandy watched TV or did homework at the kitchen counter, so there were at least lights on somewhere. But this time the entire first floor was dark, so I dropped my keys on the counter top and strode up the stairs. Maybe Mandy had fallen asleep in Violet’s bedroom, sometimes my daughter needed someone to stay with her until the monsters went away.
And wearily sighing, I massaged my neck. The date with Alexandria had been painful, the woman got on my nerves with her nails-on-chalkboard voice and possessive ways. Funny how I’d forgotten, but one dinner had been enough to bring it all rushing back, reminding me of exactly why I dumped her so many years ago.
But the sad thing was that once upon a time, Alexandria was my type. She was always an annoying bitch, but I guess in my youth I didn’t focus on personality so much. So long as the female was a stunner, someone to make every man’s dick hard, then I was okay with it. I could put up with all sorts of shit so long as she was a ten on the traditional looks scale, someone who was paparazzi-ready night and day.
But my thinking’s changed, all the old shit makes no sense anymore, so it’s out with the old and in with the new. Maybe it was because my ex was a six foot skeleton, all looks and no brain, and five years with her wore me down. I mean, how many dinners did we have where there was literally no conversation? Not a single word exchanged, and not because she and I were on bad terms. Vivian just didn’t have a cell in her brain, so at most, we could chat about the weather or our daughter, if she’d even bothered to see Violet that day. Plus, my ex never ate either, just swilling wine the entire meal. Is that even safe? Is it safe to be drinking gallons of alcohol on an empty stomach, night after night?
But my ex was gone now, and I was more than thankful. Because oh fuck yeah, I’m a different man now. It was a tough lesson, but I like sweet, curvy and sexy now, a little poundage makes my pulse race, the blood course in my dick like a hammer coming to life. I want huge tits, the kind I can bury myself in, fucking their sweet bellies if I want a titty session. And as for ass … I never thought of myself as an ass man, my previous girlfriends had nothing to speak of back there, flat as a pancake. But now I like them bountiful, huge, the better to knead, squeeze, and penetrate illicitly.