Kissing My Dad's Friend

Then he pushes his cock inside me.

I gasp as he moves into me, inching deeper and deeper as his hips make small thrusts against mine. I arch my hips backward to grant him better access, grind against him as he forces his thick cock deeper and deeper into my tight pussy. With every inch he gains, I feel more awake, the nerve endings throughout my whole body more on fire.

Finally, he reaches the end, pushed all the way inside me. We both groan a little in unison, my heart racing. I feel more awake at this hour than I ever have, even in spite of our late night and emotional day yesterday.

“Fuck, I love being inside you,” he murmurs, and the words make my stomach tense, a pleasant little curl tightening in my belly.

“I can’t ever get enough of you,” I breathe in return, but I’m not even sure if he hears me or not, because he’s already moving, drawing back out of me. Just when his cock reaches the entrance of my pussy, almost completely out of me, he drives back in. I gasp and fist my hands in the sheets. His hands, on the other hand, are wrapped tight around my hips, pinning me in place where I’m curled up against him. Holding me steady as he starts to drive into me, building toward a faster and faster rhythm.

I lose track of time, place, any of my anxieties and fears, while we move like that, together. There’s just me and him and the heat between us, the thrust of his cock deep inside my pussy. He slides a hand between my legs and fingers me until I come, screaming his name as I do. Then his hand returns to my hip, where he holds me in place, makes me come all over again using only his cock, angled right over my G-spot with each thrust.

Finally, after what feels like hours lost in one another’s bodies, he finishes deep inside me with a guttural growl. I roll over to face him again, kissing his lips, his stubble-scratched jaw, his neck. Every inch of him I can reach.

Then we roll ourselves out of bed and head for the shower, only to do it all over again there.

By the time we’re finally clean and presentable enough to brave leaving his apartment, it’s already past the usual time when Dad heads to the office. I trudge down to Russ’s car, parked in a garage a few blocks away from that vintage and very bachelor-y apartment he’s got. It’s a little uncomfortable to walk, my pussy feels so sore, but it’s a good kind of discomfort. One that reminds me, with every step, exactly where I got these sore muscles and deep aches from.

It leaves me aching for more of them, all over again. And again and again and again…

I drift into daydream as we reach the garage, and Russ chuckles when he has to touch my shoulder to get my attention. “Come on,” he says, amusement written all over his face. “Car’s ready.” The garage attendant has already pulled it around. I don’t know how long I was standing there, lost in memories.

My face flushes as I climb into the passenger side seat, and Russ walks around to the driver’s side. “Good to know you distract so easily at this time of day, Maggie,” he comments with a wink as he takes the wheel.

I clear my throat, embarrassed. “What can I say? It was a memorable morning.”

“You can say that again.” His eyes find mine, and the searing heat in them, the sheer, obvious desire, takes my breath away.

I turn back to the road, mostly because if I don’t, I’ll do something insane like climb over the gear shift and into his lap for round three. Or would it be round four? I lost count when we were getting dressed after our extra-long shower…

My gaze drifts to the console. “Dad should be gone by this time,” I comment, a statement that’s sure to take sex off of both our minds.

Russ clears his throat in acknowledgement. “Well, if he’s still around, you can run in by yourself, if you’d rather not deal with all the awkward questions yet.”

“Screw it.” I let my head fall against the seat back, shaking it gently side to side. “I don’t care what he thinks anymore. He made it pretty clear last night that he’s not going to take any kind of feedback, ever, so why should we just spend our whole lives catering to his comfort?”

Russ smiles. Then he reaches over, as we pull out of the garage and onto the Manhattan streets, to loop his free hand through mine. “You’re a smart girl, Maggie. I’m lucky you picked me.” He raises my hand to his lips and kisses the back of my knuckles.