Property of Pops

“Yours, yours, yours,” I chant, shuddering through the deluge of pleasure.

“Oh baby, I know.” He moves quickly, sliding up the front of my body, claiming my mouth in a kiss while shoving down the front of his trunks, gripping his shaft and cramming it inside of me, growling on a big, powerful thrust. When I’ve taken all of him into my body, he goes stiff, jaw on the verge of shattering. “Motherfucker, that’s young.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, panting, his thickness pulsing deep between my thighs. “And so sweet. My God, I couldn’t stop until I was in up to my nuts. Tell me I’m not causing my angel any pain.”

Is he causing my pain? I suppose there is a little discomfort, but the exhilaration of being owned body and soul by this man far outweighs any pain. “I feel perfect.” I lift my hips and circle around sharply on his erection, squealing when he slams me down, pinning me with his lower body. “I feel owned.”

“You are, Coco. I own you. As much as you own me.” He groans against my ear, grinding into me with the strength of a man forty years younger. “I’m going to come inside you without a condom. Thick and nasty. Let your tits out and open those knees.”

I’m dizzy from lust. All I can do is fumble my way through his instructions, my breath rattling in and out of my lungs noisily. And when I widen my knees and his incredible girth sinks deeper, tears begin to wind their way down my cheeks, the pleasure is so intense. The experience of being loved and claimed and promised a future is so overwhelming, I start to cry in earnest. But our souls know each other, so he searches the depths of my eyes and sees I’m not sobbing from pain, but from the opposite. He slants his mouth over mine and says, “Angel,” gently. “You never have to worry about a single thing ever again. I’m going to take care of you.”

I cry out as a second orgasm tightens my core, squeezing the steel flesh planted between my legs, my knees flying up toward my shoulders, moisture rolling down my temples. And Walt curses vilely, wraps an arm beneath my head and begins to make rough, uncontrolled love to me, his sex slapping wetly into mine, his hips going faster, faster, until I can barely hold on. My untried flesh is so snug, he has to squeeze into me, but I’m still wearing the tight bathing suit, so he has to work even harder to thrust. I try to open my legs as wide as I can, but even that doesn’t seem to make it any easier.

At least until he turns me onto my side, lifting my outer leg and pushing it up to my chin, reentering me as I lie in the fetal position. Instinctively, I put my thumb in my mouth and suck on it, the force of his drives inching me further and further up the bed.

“Lord. Oh lord. I should be ashamed of what that thumb sucking is doing to my balls.” His pumps turn almost violent, his throat overflowing with grunts. “Should be ashamed that the virgin flood running down between your ass cheeks is going to make me nut, but hell, I can’t do anything about it. Time for my sperm, little girl. Suck harder on that thumb.”

I do as I’m told, eager to bring my Daddy pleasure, my sex constricting when he grinds in deep against the curve of my butt, his hoarse bellow echoing in the room, warmth spurting, then flowing inside of me. He reaches down and holds my thumb inside of my mouth, his hips spasming, a series of mean, seemingly involuntary thrusts begin. Finally, he collapses down beside me and draws me back into his arms, our bodies sticky and wet, though we seem to be savoring the proof of what just happened, rather than experiencing any urgency to clean up.

“Damn, little girl. Damn. Are you okay?”

I try to catch my breath, but my heart is racing out of control with happiness, so I give up. “Yes,” I gasp. “I’m perfect.”

“Better than perfect, Coco. You fit me like a dream. Came so fucking quick.” He trails a finger down between my breasts, the center of my tummy, stroking my mound reverently. “I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to deserve you, but I’m not asking questions. I need you. I’ve needed you every day for sixty-three years and I didn’t even know it.”

I roll over, basking in his adoring expression. “I’ve needed you just as much,” I whisper, going up on my elbow to kiss his whiskered jaw. “Even if it was only for twenty-one years—”

A knock on the door interrupts me.

“Father?”

It’s Wanda’s dad.

“Granddad?”

And Wanda. Oh my God. Guilt flashes in Walt’s eyes. Only for a split second, but it’s enough to clench my stomach.

“Father, we know Coco is in there with you. We…heard.” He clears his throat. “It’s not right. You having a relationship with a girl so young. Everyone knows it, too. You’ve ruined this family’s reputation. You didn’t even try to hide it. Who do you think you are?”

Walt tips his head forward, eyes closed.

I swear he is going to apologize to his son. Encourage me to apologize to my best friend, instead of asking her to understand that I fell in love. That I didn’t mean to hurt her. I swear this whole glorious moment is going to turn into a big round of sorrys and my throat is already closing up with the hurt. That is, until Walt’s eyes open, a twinkle in their depths. And he says, “We can probably evade them if we sneak out through your room.”

My heart takes flight. “I like the sound of that.”

We climb out of bed and get dressed, all while being lectured through the door by Walt’s son. Then Walt takes my hand and we walk quietly through the adjoining door, stopping at the main entrance to my room. Walt kisses me, pulls back with a groan and soundlessly counts to three. We burst out of the room and run down the corridor laughing, throwing ourselves into the elevator and hitting the lobby button to take us away.

Away from intrusion of anything or anyone.

Just us.