Falling for My Boyfriend's Dad(11)

"Oh yeah," I murmured. "I forgot my bra at school and the only one I have here is bright pink, wouldn't match my outfit."

Of course that was a lie. The bright pink bra wouldn't have shown under  the heavy wool of my turtleneck, no one could have seen that I didn't  match. But it was fine because the big man just chuckled low in his  throat.

"You don't need one," he rasped, eyes glued to my titties, hand moving  up and down his shaft as he gazed at me, stroking the massive member.  "Girls as young as you, fuck, but gravity hasn't done its job yet,  you're so busty, so tight, so perfect."

And I giggled because it was true. I'm eighteen and despite the hefty  size of my bust, my Double Ds weren't saggy at all, they were perfect  ovoids, symmetrical, hanging just so, round and luscious, perched  mid-air.         

     



 

"Come in for a taste?" I cooed flirtatiously, cupping them in my hands and holding them up like an offering. "They want you."

Mr. Martin's cock jumped then, visibly jerking in his hand, a small  spurt of pre-cum coating his fist, eyes ablaze. He stepped closer so  that there was no distance between us now, his breath hot and wild on my  chest.

"I shouldn't," he rumbled low in his throat, more to himself than me,  "but I'm going to," and with that he licked my right nipple, the flat of  his tongue starting on the underside of my breast and running up, over  my crest, finishing at the very top.

"Ummmm," I moaned, throwing my head back, eyes closed. It felt so good,  so amazing, to have a man's mouth at my breast and the sensation was  electric, tingles running straight from my nipple to my cunt, making me  juice wetly between my legs.

But Mr. Martin wasn't done yet.

"You're other girl needs attention too," he rumbled against my skin,  lips warm against my breastbone. And with that, he turned to my left  tit, licking this one with small laps, teasing the hard nip instead of  laving it, playing with the nub with his teeth, even biting a bit.

I shrieked then.

"Oh Mr. Martin!" I cried out, gasping. "Oh god, oh god!"

He chuckled low in his throat, deep, dark and arousing.

"Fuck baby girl, but you taste good," he ground out, still mouthing my  breasts. "Your titties are so big I can imagine what they'd look like  swollen with milk," he said slyly, shooting me a glance as he popped a  nipple out of his mouth with a sweet suckling sound. "You'd have enough  for a child to drink …  and some leftover for me too."

And oh god, but I gushed at his words, my pussy literally letting out a  rush of cream. Having his baby? Breastfeeding his child, my boobs  swollen with nutritious milk? And oh god, but having Robert drink it  from my nipple as well, caressing my jugs, squeezing it from me with a  big hand as he lapped up the liquid? It was so nasty, so wrong, and oh  god, but I wanted it so much. But the image jolted me back to  consciousness because right, a baby wasn't in the picture, not yet and  we needed to figure that part out stat.

"Mr. Martin," I gasped as he tongued me, licking my white flesh, his big  hands massaging my tender boobs. "I'm not sure where this is going, but   …  I'm not on birth control," I said in a rush.

And the alpha male paused for a moment then, his mouth stilling from its  ministrations. He'd bitten lightly into the underside of my breast, and  I could see slight teeth marks, he was marking me as his, there'd be a  bit of redness, even a bite circle after he was done.

"Why not?" he growled low in his throat, eyes blazing. "Aren't all  college girls on birth control? You and Jonah aren't taking  precautions?"

And I took a deep breath because it was time for my big reveal.

"No Mr. Martin," I whispered. "Jonah and I haven't done it yet, we've  never, um, you know, really gotten there. And actually, I haven't done  it with anyone yet," I whispered. "So you're my first."

And now Rob stopped altogether, all movement ceasing. Slowly, he looked  up at me from below, blue eyes blazing, nostrils flaring slightly, harsh  streaks decorating those cheekbones.

"You've never had sex," he ground out, more a statement than a question. "Never had a man touch you before."

And I whined a bit, pushing my breast against his mouth reflexively,  wanting to feel those talented lips, that tongue on my sensitive spots  once more.

"Yes," I breathed, almost unable to speak. "Or no," I shook my head  confused. Oh god, my brain was mush. I could barely think and was  answering questions as both yesses and nos, my body no longer my own,  every sense on fire, attuned to him. So I took a deep breath and started  again, determined to make sense this time.

"Yes, Mr. Martin," I breathed. "I've never had a man in me before, I've  never touched anyone so there wasn't any need for birth control," I said  flushing hotly. And now that I was nude, the flush was visible all over  my chest, spreading down over my breasts, reaching across my belly and  straight down to my moist, warm cunt.

Rob pulled back, breathing hard, standing for a moment to catch his breath.

"That changes everything," he growled. "I want to know how a girl as  succulent as you, as nubile and beautiful, is untouched at eighteen, but  we'll get to that later. Because baby, I want you too bad and I can't  wait."

I inhaled through my nose, breath rising heavily, soft belly tightening as my cunt grew even looser and wetter.         

     



 

"Yes, Mr. Martin," I confessed, whispering. "I want you too."

And the gleam flared in his eyes, cock so hard, so stiff now that it  pressed up all the way against his belly button. With agile hands, he  shucked off his sweater and jeans, leaving him wearing nothing but silky  skin and oh god, he was so gorgeous. The man's skin was a deep bronze  and I could see definition, his pecs, his abs so strong, those thighs  thick like tree trunks. And oh god, but that cock. I was ready to dive  on my knees to feel it, stroke it softly, press it against my cheek,  take the velvety softness in my mouth, do anything to get it into me.  Because we were both nude now, standing in the kitchen in broad  daylight, both of us panting, eyes tearing each other up, the evidence  of our lust everywhere, his dick tip wet, pearling with pre-cum as my  cunt gushed again, the insides of my thighs smeared with sweet, aromatic  juice.

But Mr. Martin wanted things done right, and with a steady hand, he  reached for a carton of milk, pouring some into a bowl. What the hell?  This was no time to eat cereal, I didn't want Froot Loops or Choco  Crunch, what was going on?

But the big man set the bowl on the floor then and looked at me with  hungry blue eyes. I looked right back at him, astounded and confused.  Was this for a dog or a cat, like a saucer to lick milk from? There were  no pets from what I'd seen last night, nothing but humans in this  apartment. And suddenly a thought struck. Oh my god, was I supposed to  drink from it, lap up the good stuff like a good little girl, get on my  knees and be a dog in front of him? Was this BDSM stuff an inherited  taste?

But the big man could read my mind and he chuckled deep in his throat,  hand fisting that massive shaft again. Another drip of sperm crested  from his dicktip, except this time, Mr. Martin was fast. He positioned  his penis over the saucer so that the semen dropped right into the pool  of milk, the sweet cream mixing with the liquid white.

"Naw, baby girl, I'm not going to make you drink it, not this time at  least," he grinned. "I want you to wet your cunt in the milk. Give your  pussy a sweet milk bath."

And I stepped back, shocked. What the? Did this guy have some obsession with milk, with the frothy, bubbly white?

The big man nodded, reading my mind.

"That's right," he said smoothly. "The best milk is the stuff that'll  drip from your tits for a baby, but right now, dip that little pink cunt  into the white stuff," he ground out. "I want to see you dripping, see  how you work it."

And I gasped. Oh shit, this was straight out of the dirtiest sex novel,  the most raunchy erotica. Wasn't there a book where the heroine was  forced to do this? Coat her pussy in all sorts of things, honey, syrup,  all sorts of sweetened goods?

The big man nodded.

"That's right baby, but milk is my thing. So get to it," he commanded,  his tone brooking no argument. "Squat and let me see you bathe your  pussy."

And I could do nothing but obey. His eyes were so commanding, that hard  body like a warrior on a mission and I was a sweet female, aroused,  heady with desire, ready to do his bidding. So placing one leg on each  side of the saucer, I began lowering myself, carefully balancing as my  knees parted, wider and wider, my creamy, curvy body exposing itself,  labia pulling apart on their own as I lowered myself down. Thank god I  did yoga because this was no easy feat, the saucer was on the floor and I  balanced unsteadily in heels.