I am going to watch this video over and over again, one hand between my thighs, pretending it’s his. The thought has me closing my eyes and biting my bottom lip hard to keep a moan inside.
Abruptly his hand disappears. I open my eyes and make a sound of protest before I can stop myself. Mr. Jones holds my gaze as he sucks his two fingers into his mouth. “Have you seen the flowers?”
“No?” I realize I’m still filming and stop it. It takes a second of fumbling to save the video to a secret folder on my phone. The last thing I need is someone stumbling on that.
“Oh my god, Dad. Not the fucking flowers.”
I look over at Brad, dazed and turned on and nearly vibrating out of my skin. He’s flopped on the couch. He waves a hand at us. “Might as well go see it, Neveah. The old man is mad about his fucking plants.”
I nod slowly. “Sure. Plants. I’d love to see them, Mr. Jones.” A quick glance at Brad shows he’s already enthralled in the game again. He had absolutely no idea that his father just had his fingers inside his girlfriend. Guilt pricks, but it only drives my lust hotter. I follow Mr. Jones down the hall to the front entrance. He turns to the right, leading me around the side of the house. There is, indeed, a bunch of flower pots, all brimming with brightly colored flowers.
They’re expensive ones, too, I think? Impossible to say when he catches me around the waist and drags me to his chest. “You were going to cum right there in the kitchen, weren’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I writhe against him. My body is so over-sensitized, I can barely stand it. My dress rubs against my nipples, and my pussy aches to be filled. “Please.”
He turns and backs to a metal bench tucked against the wall. There are trellises on either side filled with something green, but I’m not a gardener, and I frankly don’t give a fuck about his plants. I’m more concerned about what’s in his pants.
Mr. Jones sits down and pulls me astride him. I waste no time grinding down, his slick shorts the only thing between us. “I need you.”
“Come to me tonight.”
I stop and lean back. “What?”
He runs his hand up my spine and clasps the back of my neck, pulling me down so he can speak in my ear, soft and dirty. “My bed, baby girl. We got interrupted earlier, and this is barely going to scratch the itch. I want you. All of you.”
“I don’t know.” Even as I say it, I know damn well that I’ll be climbing the stairs to his room and riding his cock until the sun rises, only to sneak back into bed with my boyfriend. Lust makes me whimper. “That would be so bad.”
“Yeah. It would. All kinds of wrong.” He reaches between us and takes out his cock. I just had him earlier, but he seems bigger now. “You know what to do with it.”
I’m practically panting with need, but I just stroke him with tentative fingers. “What about the neighbors?”
“No windows on this side.” He covers my hand with his, guiding me to hold him tighter, stroke him rougher. “No one to see you cumming all over my cock, all wet and messy.”
“What about Brad?” I lift up, and he notches himself at my entrance. I grip his shoulders as I work myself down his length. “What if he comes looking for us?”
“Better work quick then.”
Instead, I move slower. The warm air seems to get hotter as I ride Mr. Jones’s cock. He’s so fucking big, big enough that it almost hurts to have him with so little prep. I love it. “Nothing to see,” I murmur. “I just…fell. You caught me.”
“Oh yeah?” He runs his hands up my thighs, beneath my dress, to cup my ass. “Think he’ll believe that for a moment?” He leans up and catches my mouth even as he moves his hands to my hips, lifting my dress.
I look down, watching myself slide up and down his length. “Oh god, that feels so good.” I cling to him, digging my hands into his hair even as he bends down to nuzzle my straps off my shoulders, following the fabric to kiss and lick my breasts, my newly exposed nipples.
There is no way anyone would be confused about what we’re doing if they walked out here.
The knowledge only drags my orgasm closer. I bite my bottom lip hard as I grind down on his cock. Mr. Jones moves to my other nipple, but his hands at my hips urge me to pick up the pace until the wet sounds of fucking give us away. “Pussy’s too good,” he murmurs against my breasts. “Can’t get enough. Can’t get…deep enough.” He suddenly picks me up and hauls me off his cock.