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“Mmm,” I hum in acceptances.
When Maceo’s finger returns to my anus, he slowly pushes his way through the tight muscle barrier ‘till he’s seated to his knuckle, making my body buck. His thumb hooks around and enters my pussy, filling both my holes with his thick fingers. I pant with need, and his tongue flicks relentlessly against my engorged clit, his piercing adding extra zeal to my already stimulated sex.
Maceo’s goal must be to turn me into a puddle because he continues his persistent assault on my nether region with licks, nips, and sucks…oh, my God!
I’m on the brink of an intense release when the restroom door opens. We both freeze when someone enters the stall closest to the door.
I can feel Maceo smiling against my mound before he vigorously attacks my clit with his naughty tongue.
You wicked, wicked man, Maceo.
Shameful whimpers try to rumble from my throat, but I bite my tongue to stop their escape. I pray for whoever is in the stall to finish quickly. Seconds later, the person flushes the toilet, washes their hands, and leaves.
As soon as she’s gone, I no longer hold back. My pussy contracts around his thick thumb, the slickness from my orgasm flushing over his hand and my thighs. He replaces his thumb with his tongue and laps up my juices frenziedly.
When the last of my tremors subside, Maceo removes his mouth from my snatch and gently tugs my skirt back into place. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me free of the window before placing me gently back on my feet, holding me against him in a warm embrace.
“I was wrong to push your mother’s help on you. I was trying to make everyone happy when the person I should have been making happy was you. I’m sorry, Pixie. I’ve fucked up a lot today, and I promise I’ll make it up to you. But can you at least be cordial with them? They’re trying baby, but things won’t get better if you cut them to ribbons every time they speak,” he murmurs against my head.
Sated, I bob my head. He purposely worked me over like this to calm my temper. I’m not going to lie; it worked like a charm.
“And baby, don’t run from me. I don’t want another man finding you with your butt on display in some window,” he says with humor in his deep voice, patting my bottom playfully.
Taking me by the waist, he escorts me from the stall. Quickly, he washes his hands before he takes my hand in his. He peeks his head out the door, making sure the coast is clear, and then pulls us both out into the hall and back to the dining area.
My parents sit patiently at the table with drinks in hand. They glance up, and it’s hard to ignore the hope in their faces when we return. It makes me feel slightly bad for losing my cool earlier. Oh hell, whom I’m kidding—I feel really bad.
Maceo helps me into my seat. I wince slightly when my bottom contacts the chair cushion. He notices my discomfort and runs his hand along the nape of my neck, caressing me softly to combat the soreness he left on my ass.
He holds my stare, desire gleaming in his eyes. It always robs me of air to know I stir such primal yearning in him.
Maceo smirks before running his tongue along his lower lip, where my arousal still lingers. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of me on his tongue. His chest rises and falls before opening his eyes, black and ablaze.
Damn you, Maceo! Don’t be getting all aroused in front of my parents.I shift uneasily in my seat.
He grabs the wine bottle with his free hand and pours me a glass before handing it to me. I take it from him and down it. He refills it, but I push it aside and go for my bourbon instead.
My parents stay quiet, and for once, I relax in their presence. Maceo continues to rub my neck, my shoulders, and upper back while we wait for our meal.
My father takes a sip of his cocktail before addressing me. “How’s work going?” Leave it to my dad to stick to safe topics.
“Good. Busy but it’s what I signed on for,” I say, sipping my bourbon and enjoy the burn. I make eye contact with my dad, and he holds my gaze.
I was always daddy’s little girl. Never cared to go shopping with my mom and sister, doing all the things girls typically like. I was more interested in getting my hands dirty, tinkering around in my dad’s garage.
As I look at my dad, I see how miserable he is and how hard it is for him to be here beside me, walking around on eggshells and waiting for an opening to step back into my life.
Something shifts inside me, and the wall I’d built around my fragile heart crumbles. I’ve missed my parents so fucking much. I want the relationship I use to have with them, not this cold, distant, hostile association.
I decide to be brutally honest with them instead of keeping it buried, where it has the tendency to fester ‘till it pops like a pimple.
Needing liquid courage, I take another long sip of my Maker’s and set my glass down, looking at my parents.
“I’m fucking hurt by how you treated me. I hate you for not listening to me when I told you I was robbed by my own boyfriend and overlooked for promotions because I’m female. I hate how you didn’t support me during one of the hardest points in my life. I hate how, when I told you my ambitions, you belittled me and told me I was foolish. I hate you for pushing me away.”
With shaky control, I continue. “I hate you for making me miss your birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and every home improvement project which you damn well know I should have been overseeing.”
Grateful for finally having me open up to them, my mom bursts into tears, and my dad struggles to keep his own emotions in check.
