Double Daddy Trouble

“I want to be in you completely,” I growled, my rhythm getting steadier as I rocked into her. With every thrust, I got a little deeper, and each time, I brought my cock almost out of her entirely before sliding back in. “I’m going to get to know you and break you in, baby.”

“Take everything,” she finally managed to gasp. “Everything for you. I want you to break me.”

The sound of her sweet voice was music to my ears, and I got stiffer just by hearing her. Despite the fire she could show in person, she welcomed me into her desperately, trying to get as much of me inside her as I could fit.

Soon, nearly all of my cock was inside her, and I started getting more adventurous.

Exploring turned into invading. Instead of rocking into her, I started thrusting steadily, getting a little harder and a little faster each time. My hands moved to her hips and squeezed her, holding her tight to me as I watched her form get pushed around on the table, her chest rising and falling with each quick breath.

“Fuck, Bruin, I...I had no idea you were...oh God, all these years,” she whimpered wildly.

“How much have you thought about me, baby?” I growled, my head swimming with thoughts of her, of everything I was going to do to her, of how badly she wanted me.

“So fucking much,” she gasped, and I felt my cock grow so stiff it surprised even me. As it did, and I started pounding into her faster and faster, I felt her getting tighter around me. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles almost white, and a high-pitched squeal caught silent in her throat as I watched her face well up with tension from the incoming orgasm.

I started bucking faster and faster, watching my cock slide in and out of her slick pussy, honey all over the table. I felt my balls start to tense up with each thrust, and then Jill’s squeal pierced the air and melted into a long, beautiful gasp.

Her whole pussy tightened around me and pulsed with pleasure, and I could feel the orgasm wrack her whole body, from lower abdomen to her fingertips. She was like a doll in my grasp, helpless and trembling with the force of it. She cracked her eyes open, and I saw tears in them as she panted up at me.

The feeling of her coming all over my stiff cock, the sight of her utter pleasure, the knowledge that I was fulfilling so much of those deep, dark fantasies of her youth. It was perfect. I let myself spill over the edge.

My balls grew tight, and I felt white-hot bliss shoot down my shaft as I exploded into her, a deep, ragged groan escaping my lips as my seed coated her insides.

The first shot took her by surprise, especially when I gripped her hips tight and pulled her into me, trapping our sexes together as I emptied myself into her. Each pulse made my shaft twitch and throb inside her, and a quick gasp told me that within a few thrusts, she was coming again, a beautiful slow-burn to finish off the overwhelming feeling of a few moments ago.

I spilled more seed into her than I ever knew I could make. I felt my own body start to relax from the tense ecstasy, and after countless pulses, I knew my orgasm was coming to an end.

The moment of bliss hung around us for a long time as I held her, my seed running out of her pussy onto the table, and then, there was nothing but our breathing in the air as I stood there, still stiff inside her.

She was limp, eyes staring up at me like I wasn’t real. I gave her a cocky smile, then slid my hands under her back to lift her up. She gasped at the change in feeling in her pussy, and I hugged her to me as she wrapped her legs around my waist.

“Everything you dreamed about?” I asked.

“Oh my God, Bruin,” was all she could breathe, and my smile turned into a sloppy grin.

If only she knew I hadn’t even gotten started.

Sixteen

Jillian

By the second day of our seven-day joyride on the Atlantic, I was finally starting to relax. Just a little. After digging through my suitcase and getting very frustrated at the lack of options suitable for eighty-degree weather, salty humidity, and the occasional splash of ocean water, I finally decided to do some creative wardrobe arrangement.

I found a slip of a tank top, meant to be worn underneath a proper blouse, and put that on along with one of my pencil skirts. As for shoes, there was no need. And besides, it hardly mattered what I wore, because one thing I could definitely be sure of was that Bruin would just rip it off my body and toss it aside anyway.

I had been nervously tiptoeing around the topic of what all he expected from me on this little cruise. The short answer was obvious. He wanted to fuck me. For seven days straight. With very few interruptions. That much I could easily tell. But as to the details… how often was I expected to give it up? What kind of depravity did he have planned for us?

The yacht was so huge, it wouldn’t have even surprised me much to find out that he had some hidden sex dungeon somewhere. I half-expected him to scoop me up a

nd carry me off to some dark, secret corner where he could strap me into some crazy device and have his way with me.

Strangely enough, that idea didn’t totally freak me out. Well, it did. But in a good way. Perhaps I had just been reading too many steamy novels. Still, if someone had told me a week prior that I would soon be adrift on the sea, on a massive yacht meant to be purchased for my brother, as the guest of a billionaire playboy who just so happened to be my overprotective brother’s old college roommate, I would have laughed in their face. I mean, it was a completely absurd idea. One that I would never have agreed to, had the offer come from literally anyone else on the planet. But Bruin? He had me wrapped around his finger, ever since the first time I saw him so many years ago. I couldn’t deny him anything, and quite frankly, that scared me a little.

It was a beautiful, sunny morning when I woke up in Bruin’s bed on day two of the joyride. I yawned and stretched, rolling over to see if Bruin was still asleep. To my confusion, he was nowhere to be found. I frowned and sat up in bed, blinking blearily. Where was he and what time was it? I kind of regretted turning off my phone now, as it would have been useful to check the time. But I knew that was too big a risk. If I turned my phone on, I would definitely have a ton of missed calls from Jeff, and I couldn’t deal with that right now. Besides, I wouldn’t have service way out here on the ocean anyway.

I slipped out of bed, smoothing down my tank top and skirt as I trudged to the bathroom. It was surprisingly large, with a full shower and bathtub, and outfitted with the same sleek chrome furnishings as the rest of the rooms with the exception of the antique fixtures in the movie theater and the library. I looked at myself in the mirror and groaned. I looked like a hot mess. My dark brown hair was poking out in tufts at every direction, my face was pink on one side from where I’d had my cheek pressed against the pillow. I had slept hard. The kind of heavy sleep that only ever follows a particularly intense orgasm, from my experience. And God knows I had plenty of those.

I decided I might as well test out the shower. Maybe it would help me wake up. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the stall. I turned on the water, which fell like rain from the gigantic, round shower head.