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Chapter 2: Bryce
My son is a fucking idiot.
I thought I taught him better. I thought I taught him not to cheat on a woman. I went wrong somewhere if he thinks that’s acceptable. Not only that, but to cheat on Penelope is fucking idiotic. Who on earth would not want a woman like her? Soft red hair, big blue eyes, and those lips I love the taste of. I want to taste her all over.
Her body was so ripe when I slid my fingers into her tight pussy… fuck. It took every ounce of control not to tear off her panties and fuck her right against the door of my office.
I slip my fingers into my mouth, tasting her sweet juices.
I groan and feel my dick pulse with need. I’m going to have to do something if I’m going to get any work done. I lock the door and head over to my desk. Once I sit, I pull out my aching cock and give it a slow tug.
I close my eyes and imagine Penelope. Her giant smile and the way she laughs. I have to admit I was jealous when Cameron introduced her to me. I was jealous of my son for the first time in my life. I wanted what he had.
I want Penelope.
I saw the signs that he wasn’t good enough for her, but I couldn’t tell if I was biased or just knew my son well enough. But I’m only the dad, so I stayed out of it. It’s not like Cameron, and I have the most solid relationship. Telling him to man up and treat her right might have pushed him further away. But after Penelope’s confession and how sad and angry it made her, I wish I had intervened. Not to have the chance to be with Penelope, but so she wouldn’t have to feel the pain of someone cheating on you.
I give my shaft an angry pull as I try to get rid of thoughts about the kind of ass-kicking I’ll give Cameron the next time I see him and focus again on Penelope.
I imagine her soft lips and how they might look around my cock. She always wears some shiny transparent lipstick that I imagine staining my rod. Making it glisten. I imagine her doe eyes looking up at me while I fuck her face. Her in her oversize sweaters and skinny jeans. I imagine gripping her hair and pulling her head back. And the pop her lips would make as I pull her off my cock.
I start moving my hand faster. I imagine sending the papers on my desk flying as I make room to bend Penelope over. Her pussy is slick, and I push into her with ease. I groan and start fucking her. I talk dirty to her. Tell her all the naughty things I’m going to do with her precious body. I make her mine. With each thrust, I tell her that.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
She takes my cock easily and smiles as I pull her hair back. I kiss her hard, slamming my mouth against hers. I swallow her moans and rub her clit. Each swipe has her pussy clenching around my cock, and my hand moves faster the closer I get to orgasm.
I tell her what a good girl she is and how good her pussy feels.
“I’m going to fuck you every day, Penelope. Your pussy is mine,” I say to the quiet of my office.
A possessive rush plows through me as I think of those words.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
My mind keeps ringing out the word. It’s what I groan as I come. My seed shoots out in long, thick ropes over my hand. I imagine bringing her to orgasm, hearing her cry in ecstasy, and I swear I come again.
I quickly clear up and look at my watch as I come down from my high. I have to go to work now. It isn’t until I’m cleaning the mess off my hand that the guilt starts creeping in.
My son might be shit for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m her knight.
I’m old enough to be her father. She’s dated my son. I’m settled into my ways, and she’s just started life.
I can’t.
But I want to.
I want to please her. Take her out to dinner. Lavish her with gifts. Give her everything she wants.
I want to make her mine.
