Hooking Up With My Dad's Best Friend

My body is so primed, so ready, that I’m ready to come. He’s going to send me over the edge and his tongue hasn’t even touched me yet. Bryce groans, teasing me through the thin lace as he slides his hands up my thighs to my hips. “I want to rip these off you.”

My breath goes short. “Do it.”

He doesn’t hesitate, and I hear the sound of fabric tearing just before the wet heat of his mouth seals over my clit. Oh god. Bryce is good at everything when it comes to sex, but his oral skills are unmatched. His tongue laps the underside of my clit while his teeth graze the top, and I go blind.

I grasp for his hair, his shoulders, anything to hold on to so I don’t collapse from the sheer pleasure coursing through me. More and more. Bryce drags his tongue across my pussy, plunging inside and licking deep. I moan, watching fireworks spark behind my eyes with every stroke.

Bryce releases me, and I open my eyes long enough to see the sheen of my juices on his mouth as he looks up at me. “Come on my tongue, Katti. Let me drink you.”

I don’t have a chance to respond. His mouth is on me again, sucking and lapping and licking. He knows exactly what to do to make me squirm, and I am unable to keep still against the wall as he takes my clit between his lips and rolls it before swirling his tongue over it again and again and again and…

I cry out, loud in the alley as I go over. The sweet release of my first orgasm in over a week, because I couldn’t even think about touching myself when I wasn’t with him. Because I couldn’t bear it.

Pleasure washes up and over me and crashes down in rolling waves. I gush my climax directly into Bryce’s mouth, and he makes the sound I think that a starving man might make when he finally receives food again. I let my head fall back against the wall, breathing hard as the orgasm passes, my mind a little clearer.

Bryce stands, kissing me again just the way he likes to so I can taste myself on his tongue. “I missed the way you taste,” he says between consuming my mouth. “I miss feeling the shake in your thighs when I make you come with my mouth.”

I need to feel more of his skin—to touch him and breathe him in. Reaching up, I undo the buttons on his shirt so I can trace the lines of his abs. His ribs. Feel the way his nipples are hard. But he’s not making it easy, kissing me senseless, and thrusting his hips against mine.

Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m tearing at his belt, trying to get it open, because I need the feeling of being filled by him. Bryce fumbles for a condom in his wallet while I shove his pants down, and he rolls it on in record time as he kisses me again. It feels like when our lips are separated we’re not breathing, and when they’re connected, we are.

Bryce thrusts upward into me, and it isn’t gentle. It’s fierce and deliberate and claiming, and I cry out into his mouth. I’ve missed this—there isn’t a comparable sensation to being stretched and filled completely by him.

Pleasure pours from my limbs, because it’s already there. It’s gathering back into my core and I can’t stop it. I want more of it. The rough concrete of the building behind me scrapes through the fabric of my shirt as Bryce presses into me again and again. His rhythm is brutal, and I don’t care. Gentle is not what either of us need at the moment.

Gentle is for soft beds and loving whispers and long, slow sessions of love and wrung out pleasure. What we have now is pure instinct and need. We’re fucking. Primal. Real. Raw.

Bryce thrusts up harder, slamming so deep that I come up on my toes. So deep that I see stars and galaxies. I’m limp, held up by his arms and his cock and sustained by the ecstasy running through my veins. Bryce moves his hips, changing his angle until I gasp. He found that spot—the one so deep inside me that it’s elusive. Now that he knows where it is, he slams into me, focusing all his attention there.

The world goes white as I come again, unable to make a sound, mouth open in a silent scream. My mind is utterly blank, erased. There’s nothing except this feeling, and the sensation of Bryce’s next stroke. I cling to his shoulders, body taut as he fucks even harder.

He drops his head onto my shoulder, bracing himself on the wall and grunting with every thrust. I can feel it when he’s close, his whole body vibrating with that same tension and pleasure that I feel, and I’m still falling through the aftermath of my own pleasure and gathering more. Again.