Kissing My Dad's Friend

I sink against him. But only for a moment. Then I draw back, lifting an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly show up to the hospital in my birthday suit, so…”

He chuckles. “Much as I’d enjoy watching you do that, I agree it’s probably not the best move, especially when we’re both already in trouble.” He winks. “I can run you by your house to pick up a change of clothes. It’s no trouble.”

My stomach sinks at the thought of going home. Of facing my parents. But what else can I do? “Yeah, I guess that would work. Maybe we can wait until Dad’s already left for the morning at least, though…”

“Well, I know of one way we can distract ourselves.” Russ’s arm snakes around my waist, his fingertips trailing slow circles over my skin. It’s maddening, the way he always knows exactly how to touch me to drive me wild.

“Oh really? What might that be?” I bat my eyes up at him, suppressing a grin of my own.

He tugs me toward him so that I roll over, my backside pressed against his, the same way we cuddled last night. Big spoon and little one. Except that I can feel the hard press of his cock against the backs of my thighs now, clearly eager for me at this hour.

“Do you know what I dreamt about last night?” he whispers against my shoulder, his lips caressing my skin, ghosting across it as he speaks in a way that sends a shiver all the way from my scalp down to my toes.

“What?” I manage to ask, breathless already and he’s barely even touched me. Damn. How does he always know just how to get me going?

His hands glide over my hips, then down. His hand parts my thighs gently, and he trails one finger along the edge of my pussy lips, lightly, not entering my slit, not yet. “I dreamt about you and me on a trip of our own. Far away from here. Off somewhere you’d like to go and help save the world.”

“And you’ve come to help too, I suppose, in this dream?”

“Naturally.” His fingertip presses a little deeper between my thighs. Soon his whole hand slides between my legs, parting them. Two of his fingers dance back and forth along my lips. “But first, I’d insist that we take a pit stop, in order to gear up for our trip. Just you and me and a gorgeous beach somewhere, practically deserted…”

“I see… and what are we—” my breath hitches in a faint little gasp, as his index finger slips between my pussy lips and starts to stroke back and forth along my slit. I can already feel how wet I am, as my juices slick and coat his fingertip. “What are we doing on this gorgeous beach?” I finish, my voice steady once more. Though not for long.

His fingertip reaches my entrance, and he presses against it. A moment later, his finger slides into my pussy. Slow and careful. “Well. Since we have the whole beach to ourselves, we don’t bother to get dressed in the mornings, that’s for one thing,” he murmurs. His fingertip glides deeper, deeper. Then it starts to withdraw again, and I whimper faintly, hating how empty I feel without some part of him inside me right now. “First thing in the morning, we jump into the ocean—”

I shiver as he inserts a second finger into my pussy. “Sounds cold,” I say faintly.

“No, no, it’s a very warm ocean. Almost like our own personal bathtub.”

I laugh a little, but the laughter turns into a slow hiss of pleasure as he begins to work his fingers in and out of me, thrusting them in quick and drawing them out much slower. He curls them just a little inside me, so the pads of his fingers drag down my front inner wall, right over the hard little nub of my G-spot. He knows how to find it every time, and it makes my toes curl as my hips rock back and forth a little, trying to grind against his fingers instinctively.

“I swim out there with you, to a spot where you can hardly stand,” he whispers. “And then I pull you up into my arms. You wrap your legs around me, and I push my cock inside you, right there in the water. At least, that’s what I dreamt about last night…”

My mouth feels dry, my throat tight. “How often do you dream about me?” I can’t help asking, in a hesitant voice. I don’t trust myself to speak too loudly right now, or I’ll go all unsteady. What with the fireworks he’s setting off inside me right now.

He withdraws his hand suddenly, and I let out a faint mewl of protest. But I don’t have to wait long. I feel his cock slide between my thighs, the tip of his head positioned against my entrance, dipping between my pussy lips. He feels wet already, maybe from the moisture gathered between my thighs. “Every night, Maggie,” he whispers against the nape of my neck.