“Are you playing with your pussy, beautiful?” Brad asks.
“Yes.” I slip his cock from my mouth so I can speak but continue stroking his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
I inhale deeply. “I’m teasing my clit and pretending it’s your tongue.” I stroke his cock and then lick its length.
“Put one finger in,” Brad commands.
I do as he asks while taking as much of his hard cock into my mouth as I can and begin to bob up and down. I pump the finger into my pussy with the same rhythm.
“Fuck yourself with two fingers,” Brad says.
I moan into his cock when I push another finger into my pussy.
“I have to see this,” Brad says. “But I need my cock in your mouth.”
I giggle and then break out into a full-on laugh.
“I guess you’ve taken that decision from me,” Brad says and then takes my hand to lift me off the floor. He points at the bed. “Lie there with your legs apart and continue with what you were doing.”
“So bossy,” I say and throw my legs apart. I should be self-conscious with Brad between my legs, staring at my pussy.
I’m not. I feel powerful and strong and sexy. I touch my clit, and as soon as my finger connects with the sensitive bud, a moan escapes my lips. Brad changes positions and kneels. His hand grips his cock and strokes it, but his eyes don’t leave my pussy.
I give him a show that he’ll never forget.
“My turn to have that pussy,” he growls and fucks me to a second orgasm.
Chapter 25
Brad
All-day I’ve thought of nothing else but the feel of Mila’s mouth on my cock and her hands on her pussy. I keep hearing her moans and imagining the twist of her body as she fingers herself. That was singularly one of the hottest things I have ever seen. Mila has opened up another world for me.
The hours crawl by, and there’s not a lot of work today. We’re called to rescue a man stuck in an elevator and a few other minor incidences. We appreciate such days. Busy days ultimately mean lost lives or seriously injured people. In the evening, just when I turn on my cell phone, a call comes through. I’m surprised when I see my mother’s name on the screen.
“Mom?” I say, my voice was unsure.
“Yes, it’s me,” mom says in her brisk tone that I’ve missed so much. “I won’t talk for long. I just wanted to let you know that I’m coming down over the weekend.”
To say that I am surprised is an understatement. We haven’t spoken in so long, and she just decides to come over. Thankfully by the weekend, Jessica will have returned home. I don’t want her to be exposed to the drama between Mom and me. Before I can voice an opinion, Mom disconnects the call, and I’m left shaking my head. I’m thoughtful as I head home. Once, I believed that Mom and I were as close as a son and mother could be. Even more than that, I thought that my mother trusted and believed in me.
Until Brenda ran off with Mike, and Mom came at me accusing me of all sorts of things that Brenda had filled her head with. She had sided with Brenda without giving me a chance to tell her my side of the story. Apparently, it was my fault that Brenda had turned to someone else. I was obsessed with my work, which came first ahead of my family. Mother could emphasize with Brenda because she had gone through the same kind of neglect with my father until he came to his senses when she threatened to leave.
Now, the thing is I love and respect my father, but I’m nothing like him. My family has always come first. If Mother knew me at all, she would have immediately seen the ridiculousness of such an accusation.
My insides clench when I notice an unfamiliar car on the driveway. The court evaluator. Thoughts of my mother fly out of my head, and with my heart pounding, I almost race out of the car to the front door.
“I’m home!” I announce trying to sound normal.
Isaac comes flying from the living room and throws himself against me. I hold him tight, and for a few seconds, all thoughts leave my mind, and I luxuriate in hugging my son. Footsteps follow behind. A stern-looking brown-haired woman in a severe black suit emerges from the living room as do Mila and Jessica. Mila comes to me, and we kiss, and then she proceeds to introduce the woman. I was right. She’s the court evaluator, and she doesn’t crack a smile as we’re introduced.
“Just act as if I’m not here and go on with your normal routine,” she says.
I stand there as if I’m glued to the floor. I want to go on my knees and plead with her to let me keep my son. I’m the best parent for him. I love him so much my chest hurts just thinking about it.