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“Daddy, that was fantastic,” I pant, trying to get oxygen into my lungs. “But what about you?”
Bart pulls back with a grin on his handsome face.
“What about me?” he smirks. “I came too.”
It’s then that I flip around, and see that in fact, my stepfather has sprayed all over the mattress, and even a bit onto the floor. There’s creamy white semen soaking into the sheets, and so much of it too. Gallons and gallons seem to form a wet pool around us, and my mouth goes dry.
“But Daddy, I didn’t even touch you! I didn’t put my mouth on you, or my hand, or—”
Bart cuts me off.
“No, it’s fine, sweetheart,” he says in a smooth tone. “Tasting your honey was enough for me, and that made me come on my own. It was worth it, Christy. I hope to wake you up every morning with a screaming orgasm. You could have shattered the windows on this place.”
I giggle because the windows in the trailer are certainly flimsy. They’re not double-paned or any type of special glass. If anything, they’re cheap and thin, and ready to be taken out by my ecstatic screams.
“Really,everymorning?” I say in a coy tone while raising my eyebrows at him. “That seems quite a lot for an old man like you.”
“Who are you calling old?” my stepfather growls, before leaping on my curvy form and making me giggle. “I’m only forty-five, honey. That’s a man in his prime.”
“Forty-five is ancient!” I shriek while giggling from his tickles. “That’s more than double my age because you know I’m only eighteen.”
The word “eighteen” makes my stepfather pause for a moment, his handsome features somber.
“Yes, I know sweetheart. But let me ask you something: does the age difference bother you?”
I look at him, pausing in our intimate play.
“No, why?”
He sighs a bit, his blue eyes forlorn.
“It’s just that I worry, you know? You’re my responsibility, and you’re so young, Christy. There’s a world of possibility before you, and you deserve better than an old man who’s broke and unemployed.”
“You’re not broke and unemployed!” I immediately protest. “You’re just going through a transition, Bart. It happens to everyone, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
He shakes his dark head, his expression tense as he gazes at the white sheets.
“It doesn’t feel that way sometimes,” he manages in a choked voice. “Sometimes, when you’re at work and I’m at home, I feel …”
“Why, what do you feel?” I ask in a gentle tone.
My stepfather looks up then, his blue eyes sad.
“I feel like a fucking loser,” he admits in a low tone. “I’ve sent the little woman out to work, and I’m surviving off of your largesse. It’s embarrassing, honey. No red-blooded alpha male wants to be in this position.”
I lean forward to stroke one of his bronzed forearms, my expression gentle.
“Of course not,” I murmur. “But it’s only temporary. You’ll get back on your feet soon enough, and then it’ll bemeliving off ofyourlargesse! I’ll become a lady of leisure.”
My lover’s blue eyes flare.
“That’s what I want, sweetheart. I want you to enjoy yourself, and to become fat and happy with my baby in your tummy. I want you to waddle around pregnant, standing barefoot at the stove.”
That makes me gasp as I stare into Bart’s eyes, but the handsome man is completely serious.
“What are you saying?” I ask in a trembling voice. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
My man pauses for a moment, unsure whether to continue. But then he nods.
