Between yesterday afternoon and now, I’ve fucked her so many times it’s criminal.
It’s a wonder she can even walk, let alone compete in an Olympic event.
I took her doggy style while she cuddled a blanket. I licked her pussy while she giggled and told me to stop. I fucked her like an animal on the bathroom sink, watching my eyes turn black in the mirror over her shoulder. Watching myself turn into an utter maniac. That’s what I am. I’m her stalker. And now I’ve been given permission to let the obsession flourish.
Even now, as she comes toward me in her bathing suit, tucking blonde hair into her swim cap, I can see she needs to be pleasured again. Her eyelids are heavy, her nipples in points. We need to focus on diving. We need to concentrate on getting her form perfect, getting her used to the board and her surroundings.
But I can’t.
I can’t do anything but stash my clipboard underneath my arm, grab her by the wrist and drag her back through the tunnel toward the locker room, hell screeching in my ears. My dick is stiff as a pike. People are looking at us with speculation as we pass, but there’s simply no giving a damn. There’s only Margot. There’s only getting as close to her as possible. My thoughts are in complete disarray around that one clear fact. It’s all I can decipher in my own brain anymore. Margot. Margot. Margot. Get inside of her. Consume her. Absorb her.
We pass the larger locker room, opting for one of the small, private ones and I yank her inside, closing the door behind us, already out of breath, fumbling to get my hard cock free of the zipper confining it. “Take the suit off,” I growl, not bothering to wait for her to follow my instructions before I jerk down the clingy material, baring her supple, naked body. And my goddamn head goes on fire. It’s like I’m seeing her through a red haze of hunger. Need need need. I’m so lost in my starvation, I barely register the fact that I’ve moved her. Slammed her tight ass up against a row of lockers and rammed my dick up between her thighs. Inside of her.
Home.
The only place I can exist is right here.
This is the deep end. I won’t be able to hold back ever again now that I’ve had her.
I was an idiot to think I could.
And that fact only becomes more obvious when she whimpers my name, her melting hot little pussy pulsing around my cock. Sliding side to side. Young and tight and everything right. So fucking perfect that I have to moan. Have to fuck at my hardest right away. I jackhammer her into the lockers and she gasps through every second of it, eyes glazed over in that telltale way, reassuring me that her orgasm is imminent like mine.
There’s a knock on the door, but I don’t stop.
I can’t stop. I’ll never be able to stop again.
My life is embodied in this girl. I’m a goner.
Entrenched in the infatuation with no way out.
“Margot?” calls Mr. Summers. Her father. He must have followed us back here. “Coach Everett? Is everything all right?”
“We’ll be out in a minute,” I growl, thrusting her up higher, hands clutching her pert backside, rattling the lockers loudly with every violent movement of my body. “We spoke about this. I’m training her.”
Margot makes a desperate, whiny sound and I start to clap my hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but why bother? Her father knows exactly what’s happening in here. All through yesterday evening and night, her phone was dinging with text messages from both parents wanting to know if she was okay and I could barely stop fucking her long enough to let her answer. And I can’t stop now. My cock is demanding appeasement, as is my soul. She’s the nurturer of both. She’s the cause and the healer of my sexual agony.
“Don’t you think you’ve…trained enough?” asks her father.
I grind into her hard, slowly, our tongues licking together, Margot widening her thighs like a good little girl, blinking up at me for approval. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I say, my voice like gravel. “I decide when she’s had enough.”
“Never,” whispers Margot for my ears only, her mouth still swollen from kissing me until all hours of the morning. “Never, ever, Daddy.”
“Call me that again,” I grit against her ear, burying my tongue inside that sweet shell, out of my mind with the need to meld us into one being. Mine. Mine. “Louder.”
“Daddy,” she screams, right as I slam her hot ass into the locker and come, groaning unmuffled into the dark locker room, Margot’s sex quaking around my shaft, our combined lust audibly dripping onto the floor between my feet. Her eyes are blind, mouth in an O, head tipped back, her beloved body turning soft and pliant around mine. Satisfied. And I can relate. Momentarily. How long until I need her again? Mere minutes?