Her Dad's Friend(11)

I'm looking at a wall of vibrating eggs. He grabs one off the shelf that  has a cord and battery pack. He's like a little kid in a candy story,  stealthily putting things in the cart after his mother had put it back  on the shelf. Next I make my way to the toys. There are all kinds of  dildos: little, big, and absolutely brutal. I pick up one shaped like a  fist and fight laughter when his eyes stretch to fill his face.

He says, "Trust me, that won't fit." He leans over and whispers in my  ear, tickling my skin. "I'm lucky that tiny little hole of yours fits me   …  very lucky." He kisses me on the jaw and I'm starting to wonder if  we'll even make it the apartment before I maul him with my vagina.

I have a lovely collection of my own dildos-and they're all quite junior  compared to the fist of fury-so I bypass those and finger a pair of  fuzzy handcuffs. Looking back over my shoulder, Paul's eyes are  ballooning out of his head again and he's over-eager when he says, "Yes.  Grab those. Now."

I giggle and take them off the shelf.

By the time we get back to my apartment the delivery truck is waiting  outside. Paul and his friend unload everything and start carrying the  dresser upstairs. I rush ahead of them to unlock and open the door. When  I get to my door, Jeremy is leaning against the door jam.

"Jeremy, what are you doing here?"

Hearing my surprise, Paul looks around the dresser and almost drops his end. "Steady there," his friend says.

Paul gives Jeremy an intimidating look and tells his friend, "I got it, keep going."

As he passes Jeremy, Paul gives him a nod that lacks any friendliness.

Once Paul and his friend are inside the house, Jeremy says, "I couldn't  stop thinking about you after our date. I was going to text before  coming over, but I wanted to say this in person." He reaches out and  touches my fingers, hooking onto them. I want to pull them out of his  grip, but Jeremy seems like a nice guy and I don't want to make a big  deal out of this even if I can feel Paul's eyes at my back.

I glance behind me, just to confirm, and there he is, at the threshold.  His hands are tucked protectively in his pockets to hold himself back,  his jaw clinched as if he's ready to toss Jeremy down the stairs.

Paul and his friend make several more trips up the stairs, slowing down  when they get near me and Jeremy-I suspect it's to eaves drop.

Jeremy seems oblivious to the intrusion and says, "Let me take you out  again. I can cook this time. I make a mean fettuccini alfredo.

Paul has come to a complete stop and his friend seems just as intrigued  by my conversation with Jeremy. Paul looks ready to launch out of his  skin.

"You're a really great guy, Jeremy," I say, "and I had fun last night,  but I have a boyfriend now." I glance over at Paul and his stunning  blues meet my gaze and he drops an inch of height as his body relaxes. I  grin at him, and he shows a ghost of a smile as he goes back into the  apartment with the last of the furniture.

I like the sound of that word in my ears when referring to Paul. Boyfriend. I like the taste of it on my tongue.

"A boyfriend?" Jeremy says, taken aback. "That was quick."

"I'm sorry, I should've told you before. We'd both been into each other,  but neither of us were brave enough to say it until last night after  you dropped me off."         

     



 

He hangs his head and smiles sadly. "Damn. I knew I should've asked if I  could come in last night." He sighs and looks back at me. "Well, good  luck, but if things don't work out with you two, call me."

"I'll see you in class," I say and watch him walk back down the stairs.

Paul's friend passes me on his way to his truck. "Looks like we're all set. Enjoy the new furniture."

"I will, thank you. It's gorgeous."

Back inside my apartment, Paul waits for me. I walk up to him, put my  hand on his chest and push him toward the bedroom. On the way, I pick up  the bag of toys we bought at the adult novelty shop and bring it with  us.

His smile lights up the dim room. I turn on the light because I don't want to miss a thing.

At first I seem like the one in control, pushing him around, but as soon  as the cuffs are out of their package, he takes over, cuffing me to my  old headboard. He wastes no time getting my shorts and panties off. My  shirt and bra are pushed up to my wrists. Leaning back, he takes in my  nakedness, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he devours me with his  eyes.

"Spread your legs for me," he demands.

I do as he tells me, opening my legs as far as they'll go so he has a  perfect view. He tilts his head to the side, his lips slack and partly  open as he examines the delicate skin between my legs. It turns me on  even more, being watched and seeing the front of his jeans grow tight  from his erection.

He strips out of his jeans and begins slowly stroking himself as he  examines me. Even with his massive hands wrapped around himself, his  dick still looks huge. As far as dicks go, he has a nice one. The head  is large but not too big so that it hurts. It turns a deep pink when  he's turned on. The velvety smooth shaft is long and thick and perfectly  proportionate to the head.

After a minute, he stops his own pleasure to tend to me once more. His  hands massage and tickle the sensitive skin of my labia, stopping just  short of entering me or touching my clit. He's so disciplined, never in a  hurry, building these feelings into a furious storm before allowing me  to get any relief.

"I can smell your soap on your sheets on your old bed," he says. My eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice.

"You were in my room?"

My room at my parents' house is exactly the way I left it before moving  into my apartment. Even my diary is still stuffed under the mattress.  The one that has Paul's name scrolled through it a thousand times,  talking about all my childish day dreams of our wedding, the names of  our future children, all the sexy things I wanted to try that I'd seen  in porno videos or magazines.

I still have dirty laundry there, my laptop that has naked selflies on  it, which, thankfully, is password protected. Everything that could  possibly humiliate me with Paul is in that room and he's had plenty of  time to go snooping.

He's looking curiously at me. "I couldn't help but think when I sat on  your bed that this was the same place you used to touch yourself when  you were first discovering new sensations to your body. The same bed you  snuck a boy into while your parents were asleep downstairs, and he put  his fingers into you for the first time."

My eyes open wide. "How-" I start to say, but remember my diary.

He continues. "It was where you put a hairbrush handle into your ass to  see what it would feel like, and discovered your new love for ass-play."  He takes the bottle of strawberry lube he bought and drizzles it onto  his fingers. The tart candy scent fills my nose. Using his dry hand, he  spreads my ass cheeks apart with his fingers, and with the lubed hand,  begins to massage the rim of my asshole. I take a deep breath and let it  slowly out, trying to not tense up.

"There you go, just relax," he says when my body starts to loosen up.  Still, he doesn't enter me even though I'm ready to accept him.

"The same bed," he continues, "that you laid in night after night fantasizing about me  … "

"So you did read my diary."

I can't remember everything I used to write in my diary, but I never  held anything back. Everything I ever felt about Paul was between those  pages, raw and unabridged.

"It was just lying there. I couldn't help it," he says.

"It was under my mattress wrapped up in a sweater."

A beautiful, playful smile tilts his lips. "You were a dirty little girl, weren't you?"

"Maybe a little."

I'd always been a good student, excellent with computers, and managed to  find my way onto porn sites that I shouldn't have had access to. A girl  can learn a thing or two from those webpages. Watching all those women  spreading their butt cheeks while men drilled into them, planted a seed  into my brain that continued to grow over the years. I knew one day I  wanted that done to me, and I used to picture Paul as the one to do it.  That, I remember writing in my diary.         

     



 

Just as I open my mouth to speak, one of his fingers slips past my ring.  I suck in a loud breath instead. I'm nervous. I've never done this with  anyone before. It takes a moment for me to relax enough for it to  easily glide in and out without that feeling of uncomfortable pressure.

Once I've allowed myself to completely open up to him, his next finger enters.

I'm rocking back and forth on his fingers now. When he bends down,  catching my clit between his lips I'm on the edge about to go over, but  be backs off before that can happen. He's really good at controlling my  orgasms.

"You like that?" he asks in a sexy, sultry voice.

"Mmm, yes," is all I can manage because he's reduced me to nothing but coos and throaty noises.