Falling for My Boyfriend's Dad

“Fuuuuuck!” he roared, chest and abs tight, groin glued against my body. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

And I mewled in return, pussy clamping down even more, milking him of each drop of semen, drawing the stuff of life deeper and deeper, loving every precious spurt. Because his penis was giving it up, pulsing again and again, blasting hot white cum, and it was so satisfying, so hot, and so empowering at once. I loved knowing that I could make an alpha like Rob lose himself, give it up in my sweet arms, clasping him and holding him tight as the stuff of life spurted into me again and again. I loved knowing that as I gave myself up to him, he did the same, adoring me, treasuring me, the physical and the emotional both so good, flying to the highest heights, driving us over the cliff despite our odd beginnings.

And as our bodies returned to earth, both of us panting, gleaming with sweat, his dick still deep in my pussy, he licked my collarbone, tasting the dampness there.

“Fuck baby, you did good,” he groaned, dick jerking once more in my cunt.

I just smiled coyly at him.

“I know,” I purred. “It was amazing, wasn’t it?” And I stopped for a moment, pausing because Mr. Martin was drawing his dick out now. His pole was so gorgeous, still semi-hard, virile and purple, covered in a mix of our cream, with the tiniest smear of red against the side. And he stopped to look at me, seizing my eyes with his blue gaze.

“Honey,” he rumbled deep in his chest. “Know that I’ll treasure this forever,” he ground out. “I was your first and I’ll never forget how sweet, how wanton, how wild and desirable you are.”

And I let out a breathy laugh, looking down at his hot rod, still pulsing, aroused and deep purple.

“I know,” I said, breasts still trembling slightly. “I know,” I said again, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss. Because Mr. Martin was mine now, and I was his. And no matter how difficult things got, how confusing, tangled and flat-out bizarre, I knew we could make it work … so long as we were together.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ally

I thought we’d be fine after our sweet, satisfying encounters, I thought for sure Mr. Martin and I were an item now. Because for the rest of my four-night stay, I found myself in his bed, exploring each other’s bodies, loving one another, taking, intimate in our exchange, so satisfying and amazing. It was a series of midnight rendezvous, a series of illicit encounters because he was still my boyfriend’s dad, so during the day, we pretended like nothing was going on.

“You bored yet?” asked Jonah, yawning as we watched a movie in the living room.

“No of course not, why?” I asked, my cheeks coloring. Mr. Martin had watched the movie with us and unbeknownst to his son, had fingered me a bit under the big afghan, touching me whenever the sound effects from the action movie drowned out my breathy cries, my moans of arousal.

But his son was clueless, falling asleep halfway through the movie, not waking up until the very end. And even now, he was still moving in his own world, like he had a permanent set of 3-D glasses on.

“Think I’m gonna go for a cream puff,” Jonah said carelessly. “There’s that new pastry place down the street, a vanilla one would hit the spot.”

I shared a look with Mr. Martin. We’d talked a little about his son lately like we were two parents, and Jonah’s terrible eating habits and diet were part of our concerns. Cream puffs were the last thing he needed given his consistently low energy level and spindly frame. What Jonah needed was real nutrition, from fruits, vegetables and protein, not empty calories and a huge dose of sugar.

So I scrambled up from the duvet, discreetly making sure my skirt was pulled down. Oh god, Mr. Martin’s fingers had felt so good in me, so amazing, and all I wanted was his dick once more.

But that had to wait until tonight, when I snuck into his room at midnight. For now, there was still Jonah and his terrible diet, and I had to help him, somehow, some way. So I spoke up cheerily, “I’ll come with you. Maybe we could stop by the smoothie shop on the way.”

And Mr. Martin shot me a look because he knew exactly what I planned. I wanted to go to the smoothie shop first, because maybe then I could get Jonah hooked on a healthy drink and we’d bypass the cream puff store altogether.

“You kids go,” he rumbled. “I’ve got some business to take care of,” and with a wave, Jonah and I pulled on our jackets, stepping out into the chilly New York breeze.