Making His Baby(203)
But I find her lacking, through no fault of her own.
Grace isn’t fair competition for any woman.
Her full tits, tiny waist and round hips are simply perfection.
Perfection that I shouldn’t be fantasizing about in a bar when a perfectly acceptable woman is willing to fuck me.
It would be easy enough to take the bartender home and release the sexual frustration I’ve been harboring since I started this case but I won’t do it.
I have to admit that although I’ve never had Grace, I know Ms. Bartender won’t compare to the real thing.
“Can I get the check?” I ask after being buried in my thoughts.
“Sure, honey,” she says, wiping down the bar.
Moments later when I look at the check I see she’s scribbled her name and number near the bottom.
With a chuckle, I shake my head and toss cash on top of the piece of paper before walking out.
***
At home, I sit on the edge of my bed scrolling through my phone.
I contemplate calling Grace but note the time. It’s 1:24 a.m.
She’s probably sleeping and even I know it would be rude to wake her up for my selfish reasons.
We haven’t spoken since our meeting on Monday and it’s now Thursday night. Well, Friday morning.
Still, my dick is in misery after thinking about her all night. The longing is starting to get to me. I need to be buried in Grace soon or I will explode.
My cock twitches at the play on words.
I’m in nothing but my boxers since my shower and when I look down I see my penis tenting against the fabric for release.
Grudgingly, I lower the waistband of my shorts and reach down to fist my shaft.
Glistening pre-cum is leaking from the tip and I haven’t done anything yet.
I give a slow, initial stroke and close my eyes as I imagine Grace on her knees in front of me doing the honors. I pictured her saliva slathered along the length, her mouth opened wide to accommodate the thickness.
My hand moves on its own accord, up and down, the pace quickening as I grow more aroused. With my feet planted firmly on the floor, I expertly jerk off as I settle into the fantasy of her sucking me off before climbing on top to ride me to orgasm.
Shortly after, I feel my gut tightening and the spasms start surging through every part of me.
“Ah, fuck Grace!” I shout as I come, white hot spurts of cum hitting my stomach.
***
Overlooked
(Five-Chapter Preview)
She’s the closest thing I ever had to a sister
Our parents are best friends and neighbors.
We were raised together.
But one look at her naked body in the window and I’m hard.
How did I never notice her this way before?
Too bad she’s forbidden fruit.
She doesn’t deserve to be in my trail of one-and-done women.
Plus it would ruin 25 years of friendship between our parents.
But my body craves her.
The longer she stands in the window, the less I’m able to resist.
Screw it.
CHAPTER ONE
HARPER POLSEN
A weird sensation washes over me.
Everything is the same and everything is different all at the same time.
On the street that I grew up on, the Petersons finally got around to cutting down the big oak that cast their whole front yard in shade, while the Angelinos put up some kind of weird flag pole. The Kings moved out, I’d heard about that from my mom, and the new people living in their house had repainted.
I can still almost see the way things looked the last time I’d been in the neighborhood, but at the same time the changes make me look twice to make sure I’m in the right place after all.
My parents’ house, as I get to it, looks exactly the same as it did when I’d pulled out of the driveway after New Year’s Eve. Brick and mortar, with black trim and a slate roof that my mother had apparently insisted on, the bane of my dad’s existence, and a red door that almost glows in the hazy yellow afternoon light.
I turn into the driveway and pull up to the garage doors, throwing the car in park, and sit there for a minute. On the other side of my parents’ house, I see the Lewises’ cars on the driveway, and the big flower flag hanging over the entry on their front porch.
As soon as I get my stuff into my parents’ house, I need to drop by and say hello. After all, the Lewises are why I’m in town in the first place.
I shut off the engine, and spot my mom coming out of the house to greet me. She’s covered in speckles of paint, and I’m glad I thought to pack some old jeans and T-shirts in my suitcase, along with the nicer clothes I knew I would need for the week I’d be in town. Obviously Mom is helping the Lewises set up everything.
“You’d better run over next door real quick and say hello to your other mother,” Mom says as I’m climbing out of the car. I laugh and roll my eyes, reaching into the passenger seat to grab my purse.