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There’s so much she doesn’t know. So much that will probably scare the shit out of her. The fantasies, the needs…I’m not like other men. At least not most. I know there are others like me, not personally but I’ve not lived with my head in the sand. I’ve known my proclivities did not bend toward the vanilla world but I’ve never met anyone that made it feel real.
Until Layla.
I can’t count the times I dreamed of what we could be. The times I sat watching her play Twister with Arianna, wanting only to be tangled up with her on that slick plastic sheet, fucking her from one colored spot to the other.
Orange is for eating your pussy.
Red is for turning you over my knee.
Blue is for you licking my balls.
Yellow is for me fucking you into forever.
Green is for you taking my cock so deep down your throat, you depend on me for your very breath.
“Jack?” I hear Layla’s voice, it sounds far away as I lose myself in the fantasy. ”Jack.”
“What?” I cough out, my balls heavy with the hot seed I want to deliver straight into her innocent womb.
“We’re here, is something wrong?”
I look up. We’re parked in the driveway of the house. I don’t remember anything after swerving to miss the ditch.
“No. Everything is right.” I can’t help myself. I reach over and brush a long string of her hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her perfect ear, noticing the little ninja Hello Kitty earrings she’s wearing. “Stay there,” I grunt, exiting the vehicle and coming around to her side opening her door.
I look down at her masterpiece of a face. No artist in the history of the world could capture her flawless beauty. Today only solidified what I already knew. I will be the one to protect her. To keep her safe. But also give her the wings to fly and find her true happiness. I will be there, standing next to her, behind her and shielding her from in front. Whatever she needs, I’ll be the one to give it to her.
I just hope she’s ready for it all.
Once we’re inside, my blood feels like heated magma. My skin prickles with electricity as I close the door and watch her skim a hand across the edge of the entry table filled with pictures. Some are of me with my first boat, just out of prison, eyes looking dead.
There’s another, me and Carter on the same boat, both of us looking more alive, unaware of the curve balls life was about to throw our way.
Layla stops, reaching down and picking up a silver frame, her face blossoming into pure joy.
“I love this. I remember this day.”
“I do too.” I step behind her, the flood of memories coming back as I look down at the photo of Layla, Carter, Arianna and me, all sitting in a booth at Virgin Street Diner. It was the first day the girls met and a day that changed me forever.
What she doesn’t know, is all the pictures I have of her that are not on display. My phone is filled with them. Moments when she wasn’t looking captured for my private viewing pleasure. There’s videos too, and my dirty secrets don’t just end with electronic images.
I’ve stolen her underwear, hair from her hairbrush, a t-shirt she wore one day when Carter and I took the girls to the amusement park and Layla spilled Cherry Coke down the front of her.
I told her I’d wash the t-shirt and give it back, but she never asked and I never washed it. I’ve held it to my face, jerking off more times than I can count. I’ve done the same with her panties, only pulling them from my nose when I shoot off, filling the fabric with my cum until they’ve become stiff and hardened with my dried jizz. If she only knew I slept with them under my pillow sometimes, hoping beyond some crazy hope that maybe there’s some other version of the tooth fairy that would replace them with her if I only believed enough.
Today is that day. I’ve believed and she’s here, wearing that barely-there bikini top and shorts that would give a dead man a woody.
I catch the scent of the dirty harbor water on me even though I grabbed a clean shirt from my office before we left. But, having her here, mania gathers in my gut and before I know it my hand is on the back of her neck, her hair under my fingers as I give her the slightest squeeze.
Her head spins and I’m caught in the surprise and lust I see in her shimmering silver-gray eyes. She’s so fucking perfect, I think again my knees are going to give out like some Victorian virgin in a Harlequin novel when the Prince finally comes calling…
