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My daughter is a very beautiful, voluptuous woman, and she should be admired. From afar and under my watchful eye.
It’s late as I close the front door and the house is quiet, even though I know she made it home over an hour ago.
Last night was… well, I don’t even have the words to fully articulate what last night was.
Demented.
Wrong.
Taboo.
But we couldn’t stop even if we wanted to. We were two magnets, and no amount of force was forcing us off the connection. I remember dressing myself and then pulling her tattered clothes back on, so her body was covered at least. No amount of wiping her face with a dry towel was going to clean up the dried makeup, blood, and come from her face. I just carried her out through the back hallway with her face in my neck.
We were quiet as I cleaned her up when we got home, using whatever fucking fancy wipes she had on her bathroom counter. I don’t know what the hell they were, but they cut through the makeup on her face like a Mr. Clean magic eraser. I tucked her into bed when I wanted nothing more than to put her into mine and crawl in beside her, but she needed space.
I provided aftercare, and she was happy and blissfully in her orgasm coma, but with everything that happened, she needed to sleep and process it. I spent the rest of the night on the couch watching some show called Manifest and letting the plot twists distract me until I fell asleep.
Today, we didn’t really have time to talk. I was in meetings for most of the day, and it’s not a conversation I wanted to rush in between both of our commitments.
I stop outside her door and peer in, but I don’t find her in her room, and she wasn't in the front room or kitchen as I passed by.
I wonder if she went out. Her car is here, but Justina probably picked her up. I wish she would have called or at least text me to let me know she was going out. Another thing I need to add to our discussion.
Rolling my shoulders back, I feel the tension I’m carrying, but I start undoing the buttons on my shirt, pulling the ends out of my slacks before shrugging out of it as I walk through my bedroom doorway. Flinging the shirt onto the highback chair in the corner, I toe off my black Ferragamo oxfords while working on removing my pants.
I’m using the back of the chair for balance to take down my socks, and I’m left in just my black briefs, and I turn to head into the bathroom when I see a brunette goldilocks in my bed. Sprawled right in the middle under my comforter with her hair in that damn messy bun blending in with the dark pillowcases.
Detouring to the bed, I sit on the side, brushing my fingers over her hair and down her face. I wonder why she crawled into my bed. Not that I’m complaining. She barely moves as I caress her, noticing that in sleep is the only time she looks even semi-innocent. Every other time she looks like hellfire could spill at any moment.
“Mm,” she mumbles, and I choose to say fuck going to shower and pull the covers back to slide in beside her.
Satan fucking condemn me. She’s got on a short white crop tank top that barely covers her tits and pale green boy shorts cover her bottom. Her belly is visible, and it’s calling my name, and I am unable to resist. I lay my hand against the soft flesh, spreading my fingers so I can touch from her belly button down to her clit.
My thumb rubs back and forth, and my cock starts to harden, causing my briefs to tent. All I would have to do is roll over on top of her and slide those panties to the side, and I could sink into her. My dick likes that idea as it jumps, trying to escape.
Moving my hand, I jump myself, debating on what to do, but it only takes minutes to make a compromise. I push the underwear down, kicking them off before rolling over and straddling October’s legs. My dick is red and angry, eager to come as I stroke it from root to tip. I lean forward, bracing one hand on the wall as I jack myself, drinking my fill of her face, her tits, her stomach, and knowing her pussy is right beneath me. I swipe across the head, spreading my precome around and using it as lube as the friction between my hand and skin becomes intense.
It doesn’t take long as I work my shaft just how I like it, knowing what will get me to bust quickly, and ten minutes later I’m spilling come aiming for that little pooch I’m infatuated with and across the front of her panties. Once my balls are drained, I sit back on my haunches just enough so I can admire the patterns of come, and then I rub the sticky fluid into her belly skin, once again marking her as mine.
Rolling off of her, I lay back down before reaching over and gathering her into my arms.
Everything else can wait until tomorrow.
Tonight, I’m going to sleep like the devil.
CHAPTER18
OCTOBER
Sunlight streams across my face, waking me up, and I move to languidly stretch to work out the kinks in my stiff body. I’ve felt the aches of two nights ago start to really set in yesterday afternoon, and today from head to toes feels like it’s been imprinted by fingerprints.
I don’t get very far when I hit something hard, and those imprinted prints turn to real ones as I feel the tips of a hand dig into the soft flesh of my hip, gripping tightly, pressing along the bruises that already exist.
Blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from my eyes, I turn my head just enough to see the dark tousled head of hair sprinkled with gray behind me. His face is relaxed and his breath even so he’s still in slumber.
Turning my head back around, I look below and see how his tattooed hand grips me, and if I could stay right here I would. We didn’t talk yesterday about anything that happened, and I don’t know what to think or how to feel. It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell me it was a mistake again. That giving in and fucking me was a mistake.
I’m a lot of things but never a mistake, so if he ever begins to utter those words, I’ll shove them right back down his goddamn throat. Make him choke on each syllable.
