Overlooked(1)(204)

Dropping off my toes, I can’t believe I just said that. Or did that. Or want him so bad.

Darla asks with a smile, “What happened before I got here this morning?”

Shit, I forgot she was here.





Knox

At eight on the dot, the doorbell rings. Piper bounces to the door, the way she’s been bouncing around all afternoon. I should’ve sent her to school, instead of agreeing to this arrangement.

I’m a couple feet away from the front door, when Piper flings it open to reveal Darla standing there.

“Hey Darla, where’s Avery?” Piper says, peering her head out the door.

“You know what, she’s really sick in bed.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, I think it’s food poisoning or something. But don’t worry, we’re still going to have lots of fun, just like we talked about this afternoon,” Darla says.

As part of the agreement after the discussion in the garage, Avery and Darla spent the afternoon hanging out with Piper, so Piper would feel comfortable with Darla.

“Well, I have to get going, have fun you two,” I say.

“You smell nice, dad. Is that the cologne I gave you for your birthday?” Piper asks as I pass her to get to the door.

“Yep,” I say, not stopping. It’s been sitting on the bathroom shelf since she gave it to me, ignored. When I stepped out the shower tonight, I saw it and put a bit on. Along with a fresh pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that might be considered a size too small.

“You never wear it. I’m glad you finally are. It’s really nice…” she says as I walk out the door. I pull the door shut behind me, while she’s still talking.

Darla had better get her away from the door and windows, so she can’t see where I’m going. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea with her home. I wait at the corner of my house for a minute, to give Darla time. I wanted to wait two minutes, but can’t. Not when I’m this fucking close.

I ring Avery’s doorbell, and the door opens as if she’s been standing on the other side waiting.

Before Piper can see, I rush inside and Avery shuts the door.

We stand in her little foyer without speaking, eying each other. My eyes rake over her, my breathing heavy. As promised, she’s wearing the blue blouse. Instead of pants, she’s got on a short, black skirt that’s tight. Very tight, it clings to the curves of her hips, and I fight the urge to spin her around to get a good look of her ass in it.

When I finish surveying her, our eyes lock and I step closer to her. She smells as amazing as she looks, clean and sweet like orange blossoms. I pull her into my arms and fight the urge to nail her against the wall right here by her front door. I have to remember I get to take my time tonight.

Holding her tight and meshing my fingers through her hair, I put my lips to her ear and say, “Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.”

“You look good,” she says, her voice pure sultriness, though I detect a slight quiver.

“I’m glad you wore the blouse.”

“And the thong,” she says.

“Good, I can’t wait to tear it off you.”

Avery swallows, and I can’t wait any longer. Gripping her head, I crush my lips against hers. Her soft, full lips on mine springs my cock to life. We explore each other’s mouths with need.

Still holding her silky hair, my other hand travels down the curve of her back to her ass. I squeeze it, and a light moan comes from her throat. I squeeze it tighter, wanting the fabric gone between it and my hand gone.

Her hands explore my arms and slide between the tight fabric of my t-shirt and my body. Each one of her fingers leaves a trail of sparks on my skin.

I break our kiss, and move my lips over the softness of her cheek and neck. My cock fucking hurts from straining against my jeans, and I need to get them off before it breaks.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I say and release her.

With her hand in mine, I lead her up the stairs of her own house. I’ve been here many times to help Mrs Coupland with maintenance stuff, and head straight into the bedroom at the top of the stairs, the one Avery’s always sitting in the window at. Apparently masturbating to me as I work.

“No, not this one,” she says as I enter the room and flick on the light.

It’s the one in her new videos, decorated like a fucking boudoir.

“Yes, definitely this one,” I say, tightening my grip on her hand as I march into the room.

My eyes flick around, the back wall is never shown in the videos. Lighting on wheels is pushed into the corner. The wall is covered in shelves stacked with shit in its packaging. A closer look and they’re all sex stuff. I know from her videos all about the products she vlogs about, and I assume those are them.