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Weston
I slidemy cock from her tight sheath with expert gentleness. She moans, light and breathy. Lucy might’ve been a virgin before today, but that girl was made to be fucked. Her body sang with each stroke, coming alive under my fingers and lips. Just the thought of how she clenched around me has my cock lifting its head once more. I pull my jeans up and tuck it inside.
Bending down, I slide her panties up her silky-smooth thighs, then do the same with her skirt. She stands erect and turns to face me, her eyes looking anywhere but at my own. “You might be a little sore for a while.” Her hand runs across her stomach and down between her thighs, testing the flesh. When she pulls away, her fingers are glistening with the proof of our coupling, tinted red with her virginal blood.
“It’s not too bad,” she says, still avoiding my gaze.
I wrap my hand around her wrist and lift her fingers to my mouth. My tongue darts out, licking the evidence off her. Her eyes shoot to mine then, darkening with desire once more.
“Mmm. So innocent and fucking beautiful.”
A blush stains her cheeks, but she doesn’t break eye contact until I release her hand. She arranges her skirt and runs her fingers through her hair. The wild curls bounce around her face.
“Come on, let’s get you back to the camp so you can clean up.”
“Do you know the way? I kinda got turned around.”
“Yes. It’s not too far. Are you okay to walk?”
“I’m fi—good,” she says.
Turning, I start walking. She follows behind me for a few minutes before catching up and walking alongside me. I glance at her from the corner of my eye and can almost see the thoughts spinning in her head.
“I know he’s my son, but you’re too fucking good for him. I think you already knew that, though, didn’t you?”
She pulls on a curl, wrapping it around her finger over and over, before replying, “It was fun, I think. In the beginning, anyway. Then one month turned into two and two into six... seven. It got me out of the house and away from my mom, but I knew I didn’t love him, knew that it wouldn’t last. It doesn’t make what he did okay.”
“True, but is there a difference between what he did and what we just did?”
“That was... that was a reaction. A consequence of his actions. I wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t... if I hadn’t caught him like that.”
I nod my head in understanding. “I get that. But the fact is, we did. So, what do you plan to do now?”
“Oh, we’re so done. He just doesn’t know it yet. As soon as we get back, he will.”
I let her stew in that anger for the rest of the walk back. Every once in a while, she reaches up and runs a light touch along her lips, as if she’s remembering the feel of mine against her. I wish I could put into words how it feels knowing that no other man has ever touched her. No other man has had the pleasure of burying himself in her sensual pink folds, and none will.
That thought shocks me enough to keep me from speaking.
The bathhouse is empty when we arrive. I check the stalls then walk into the shower room and cut on the water. It sprays against the tiled floor in a steady stream. When I come back out, Lucy is pulling her shirt over her head.
Fucking hell, she is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.
And right now, she’s mine. Only mine. My seed fills her womb, coating her walls on the inside. Stepping closer, I take the shirt from her hands and toss it across a stall door, then run my hands up her back and unlatch her bra. It slides down her arms with ease, freeing her perky tits. They pebble under my scrutiny, begging for my mouth. I don’t deny them.
First one and then the other, I take them into my mouth, flicking my tongue across her nipples. Her breath hitches. Her eyes are glazed when I pull away.
“What if you don’t say anything to him?”
“What? Why?”
“If you do, then y’all will fight, and I’m sure you’ll want to go home. But if you pretend you never saw it, you can stay, and we can have this weekend together.” I don’t bother telling her that this weekend won’t be enough, that I am already imagining her in my bed at home and a hundred other places. No, one weekend will never be enough.
I slide her skirt and panties back down her thighs, kneeling before her and untying the laces of her boots before pulling them off and tossing them aside. I glance up at her fully naked body before me and meet her gaze. “Can you do that?” I ask, running my fingers up her leg, making small circles across her thighs before brushing against her dripping apex.
“Why?” The question is a breathless whisper.
She’s completely bared to me, her body soft and supple, mine for the taking. I lower my hungry mouth and apply pressure to her welcoming folds. She tastes like honeysuckles and sweet red wine. I lick slowly, tasting, teasing. Her pussy is drenched with need and the proof of our prior coupling. The coppery tang of blood from where my cock tore through her virginal veil is mixed with the sinful sweetness of her desire. I lap it up like a kitten before a bowl of milk.
