Page 17 of Sugar Daddies


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I risked a glance over my shoulder, relieved to find it was Rick’s breath on my naked skin. The room was baking like a sauna, and I was burning up, even without covers, hyper-aware of the heat as his legs tangled with mine. I risked a shimmy towards the edge of the bed, but he stretched in hissleep, and his arms captured me, pulledme tight against his chest. Shit.

I could feel his cock against my ass, and he wasn’t soft. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe another good fuck would seal the deal well and truly.

But Carl. God Almighty, Carl… I wasn’t sure my freshly-fucked pussy was ready for that.

I lay statue-still and listened, and there was Carl’s breath, steady and deep. He sounded close, surely just the other side of Rick, and the thought spiked my heartrate. Yeah, I definitely wasn’t ready for that. My fingers tingled at the memory of his solid monster dick, the rush of adrenaline as he pumped himself off in my hand.

I held my breath and eased myself from Rick’s grip, inching away so bloody slowly that it felt ridiculous. My concentration was at its peak, a tentative foot on the carpet as I made to stealth-exit, but no. Rick’s fingers found my arm and squeezed and he was after me, voice sleepy and thick.

“Pumpkin carriage awaiting, Cinderella?”

I lay back beside him, keeping my voice low so as not to wakethe beast beyond. “Pumpkin leaves before midnight. I well and truly missed that ride.”

I felt his smile against my shoulder. “You definitely got a ride…”

I couldn’t stop myself smiling. “Yes. Yes I did.”

He propped himself up on his elbow, and I felt his eyes on me in the darkness. “How about round two?” His fingers grazed my arm, tickled my ribs, then crept down my belly, but I shifted away.

“I have to go,” I whispered.

“Bailing on me in the darkness?”

I ghosted a laugh. “It’s morning, and I’m not bailing.”

“Who the hell calls this morning?”

“Samson,” I said. “He definitely calls this morning.”

“Ah.” He rolled onto his back. “Samson would have to get used to a Sunday morning lie in if he was mine.”

“He’s so worth the early start.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

I dropped both feet to the floor. “Can I leave?”

I loved the low husk of his laugh. “So long as you promise to come back.”

I got to my feet. “I’ll be back.”

A couple of blinks into the shadows and I could make out the tumble of sheets, the hard lines of Carl’s body at Rick’s side. I watched Rick shift position, press himself to Carl’s chest. “Don’t be a stranger,” he whispered.

I took that as my dismissal, grateful he didn’t insist on a goodbye kiss from my baboon-ass lips. I felt the pathetic little scrap of my nightdress under my toes and scooped it up, but my knickers were nowhere to be found. Ipatted my way around with naked feet, hoping to strike lucky, but no. I’d have to leave them.

A memento.

I pictured them jacking off together, thick cocks shaft to shaft with only the flimsy piece of lace between them. The thought was surprisingly horny.

Much more horny than the boyfriend at college who’d steal my dirty panties and stash them under his bed. I found fifteen pairs under there once. Fifteen jizz-encrusted fucking pairs.

Asshole.

I crept to the bedroom door, and it was open. The light was brighter on the landing, and it was easy to return to my room.Myroom, for all the ten minutes I’d spent in there. I flicked on the lamp and tossed last night’s clothes into my case, taking only a minute to bunch my messy hair into a bun and brush my teeth in the en suite. I pulled out my daywear from the bottom of the case. The height of fashion — a tired pair of jodhpurs, an oversized t-shirt, and myI love my horseysocks. All great except my boots were in the bastard car.

I looked in mortification at the glitzy stilettos I’d swaggered in on. Bollocks.

Jodhpurs and pink fucking stilettos. What a total idiot.

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