Her Dad's Friend(8)

I can hardly get words out through my shattered breaths. "Holy shit."

He laughs, and starts to say something else, but I'm peeling off his  shirt and kissing him before he can speak. I can smell myself on his  lips and it's glorious and peachy-tasting, and I lick it up. Though I'd  just had a life-altering orgasm and still have ringing in my ears from  it, I'm ready for more. This thing, whatever it is that's happening with  me and Paul, it's dangerous. It's addictive.

I pull him to his feet, and his smile grows at my eagerness. I kneel  before him and hook my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pull  them down to his feet, releasing him. Jesus, he's big. Bigger than I'd  imagined. How the fuck is he still single? This isn't the type of fish  one throws back. This sucker is the one you get stuffed and mounted on  the wall to show off and brag about to your friends.

I run my hands up his long, tattooed legs. Gripping his steel-hard cock  with both hands, he rolls his head back and lets out an approving groan.  I practically have to unhinge my jaw like a snake to fit him into my  mouth. Pre-cum drips from the spongy tip and I lick up every salty drop,  massaging the cashmere underbelly of his beautiful prick with my  tongue.

He holds the sides of my head, fingers wrapped around my ears and pushes  deeper into my throat. My eyes water and drool leaks from the corners  of my mouth as I swallow him down. As long as I relax my throat he  glides in easily and soon he's fucking my face with vigor and I'm loving  every inch of him.

Just when we find our rhythm, he pulls out, and I take a long breath. He  takes me by the armpits and hauls me back onto the bed. He kicks off  his shoes and socks and climbs onto me. Watching my face, he slides into  me, cautious, as if he's afraid of hurting me. I'm stretched to my  limit, but it's good. Really fucking good.

Slowly, he picks up the pace until he's using my shoulders for leverage  to slam into me. Our skin slaps together with each forward thrust.

I've never been noisy in bed. I've always been skeptical of those who are. I mean, it can't be that good, right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

Having him inside of me, stretching me, pulsing and aching for me, I  can't help it. I open my mouth and I'm calling out, "Oh, yes, fuck me!  Harder, yeah, right there." I'm making ridiculous noises that, in any  other context, would be comical.         

     



 

The dirtier my words, the more it seems to feed his lust. He flips me  over onto my stomach, hips up as if I were a doll that weighs nothing.

He spanks me hard on the ass. I lurch forward and cry out.

"So you want to fuck, huh?" he says, tangling his fingers in my hair.

So he did get the text after all. I was starting to wonder if it went through.

"Yes, please fuck me," I beg.

He spanks me again and I yelp and smile into my pillow. He's so  possessive in the bedroom. So unlike his normal demeanor and I'm loving  this side of him. I can definitely get used to this.

I let out a long, loud moan when he enters me from behind. It's always  been my favorite position. The most direct path inside with the least  resistance. As he drives into me, the head of his dick presses against  my cervix, causing tendrils of pain with pleasure. The blinds are open  in my room. I usually close them right before bed. Anyone looking in  will see my sex face, but none of that matters to me right now.

The heady scent of sex fills the room, pushing me to the brink. My  second orgasm rips through me with hurricane force. As my muscles start  to contract around his width, Paul lets out a primal roar and unleashes  his warm seed inside of me. We stay that way, locked together for  several minutes as we come down. We're breathing heavily. He's draped  over my back, kissing my spine, and then we collapse. He cradles me in a  spooning position. I'm glad he can't see the ridiculous smile I feel  stretching my face.

He strokes my hair with his fingers, untangling the sweaty strands. "That was amazing," he says.

I turn over to face him. His eyes are hooded, face groggy. "It was more than amazing."

A stream of cum rolls down my leg and it hits me suddenly that we forgot  to use a condom. I mentally make a note to get to the pharmacy in the  morning for a morning after pill.

As I kiss his forehead, cheeks, lips, and chin, his eyes meld shut. He  pulls me closer to him, and before I know it, I fall asleep in his arms.





Chapter 4




I wake up the next morning to the droning buzz of my alarm clock. The  room is filled with light without the blinds drawn and I'm completely  naked. I'm still in the same position I was last night when Paul and I  fell asleep together. Trying not to wake him, I peel his arms off of me  and slide out of bed.

"Do you have to go?" he mumbles to my back as I put on my robe.

I look over my shoulder at him. He has one eye open and his hair's a mess. Utterly adorable. "Yeah, I have exams."

He grumbles and sits up, looking around my room as if he just realized  where he was for the first time. "Where's all your stuff?" he asks.

"What do you mean? What stuff?"

He closes one eye and takes inventory of my belongings. "You have a  full-sized bed, a table, and a lamp. Where's your dresser and all your  clothes? There're no pictures on the walls, or things to decorate and  make the space your own. You're like a tidy homeless person."

I smile, but he's right. It's been so long without acknowledging the  things I like that I've managed to lose interest in and even forget  everything other than school and Paul. "My clothes are in my closet."

"In that shoe box?" he asks, frowning at my closet that's just big  enough to squeeze a body in. If it were anyone other than Paul I  might've taken offence.

I shrug. "I don't need much."

Truth is, I can't afford much, and I refuse to have my parents help  me-not that they actually would. Even after loans, grants, and  scholarships, being a student pays hardly anything at all. My part time  job at the coffee shop around the corner from the campus pays just  enough to cover utilities and food. I have to keep telling myself that  someday, when I have my degree and the job of my dreams, all the  struggle will be worth it.

"Hmm," is all he says.

"I need to go get my shower," I say, heading for the bathroom.



I've just started washing my hair when the sliding door to the shower  opens. Paul steps in behind me, lacing his fingers with mine, and starts  to work the shampoo into my scalp. When he's done he takes my loofa and  douses it in my green tea body wash, lathering it up before starting at  my shoulders.

"I love the smell of this soap. It smells like you," he says.

He takes his time, making sure every inch of my skin is clean. His warm  body presses against me, his firm cock sliding between my soap-slick ass  cheeks. I'm under the showerhead now, bubbles going down the drain as I  rinse off. He gently bites my shoulder and reaches around, ring and  middle fingers on either side of my clit, rubbing in soft, slow circles.         

     



 

My moans echo in the tiled bathroom. I lift my foot onto the lip of the  tub to open myself up and give him better access. The head of his cock  pushes at my asshole. I push back against it, but it won't budge without  lube, which probably wouldn't feel good anyway, so it's better to leave  it alone. Instead, he uses his free hand to guide himself to my fleshy  opening. I'm still a bit sore from our encounter the night before, but  as soon as he's inside of me, all pain is forgotten and only desire is  left behind as he works me over.

My palms flat against the wall, I let the water roll down my back and  enjoy the sensation of being stretched. His grunting becomes animalistic  as he starts to thrust harder. He puts his hand on my back, bending me  over. That amazing pain is back as his rigid prick bottoms out. I'm  crying out for more, screaming for him to "fuck me hard!"

"God, you're so tight," he says, tearing into me, almost as if he too were in pain.

He slides in and out of me before turning me around and lifting me off  the ground. My arms are around his neck, legs around his waist. He  pushes my back against the wall, holds my ass in his hands and somehow  manages to hold me up and fuck me like that without any help from me.  After ten minutes, the water is losing its heat but his pace hasn't. He  has the stamina of someone half his age, and the strength too.

Like a puppet with wires, he positions my body whichever way he desires  and I'm perfectly happy to let him do so. With one of my legs on the  floor, he lifts the other, holding it in the crook of his arm and enters  me at a side angle. It's a direct hit to my g-spot. He nails it every  time, tapping my button like it's an O key stuck on a keyboard. Three  more pumps and it's game-over.

My screams rise to an almost deafening pitch as my orgasm takes hold, making me faint and light-headed.

The moisture in the air hurts my lungs as I try to catch my breath. He's  still inside of me when he turns off the water. He kisses me more,  staying inside of me. When he finally pulls out, a torrent of our mixed  fluids spill out of me and splash against the bottom of the porcelain  tub.