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I fist my cock in my right hand as my left hand’s against the wall.
Picturing Cam smiling up at me as she takes my dick in my hand is enough to have me at full hardness. I move my hand slowly at first, imagining that it is Cam’s small hand. I bet she would start off slow before picking up speed as she would twist her hand on the tip of my dick. Cam looks innocent but from the way she fucks, I know she knows exactly what she does to a man. I bet she would get on her knees for me and take me deep into her mouth as the water hit her face. Just the image of Cam on her knees is enough to set me off. I fist my cock harder, moving almost at the speed of light as I cum. Cumming to the image of Cam on her knees. It feels good and I relax at the feeling of my release.
After the high of the orgasm is over, I am hit with guilt. Guilt over ignoring Cam. Guilt over masturbating to her image. Guilt over knowing this is going to end but using Cam to be my fake fiancée.
Everything is just too much.
I lean both hands against the shower wall as the hot water gushes over my back.
Shaking my head, I glare at the tile in front of me.
What sort of man have I become?
I am not proud of my recent actions and I know I must change but I have no clue how. The closer I get to Cam the more I am going to care for her and the more it is going to hurt when things end.
I miss her. Not just the epic sex but talking with her. She is so smart and caring and each conversation we have has me growing fonder of her. I don’t know what to do but at least tomorrow is Sunday.
***
My head is in my hands as I sit in my office. This week has been long and it is finally Sunday morning. Avoiding Cam has been hard on my psyche and my heart. All I want to do is hold her in my arms and shower her with kisses but I fear that I cannot.
Knock knock.
My head shoots up at the sound of a knock on my study door.
“Come in,” I call out, fearful that it is Cam. I have no idea what I will say to her if she confronts me about my behavior. Last night I was jacking off to the thought of her. What if she heard me and is going to question me about my behavior?
Swallowing, I sit back and try to look inconspicuous.
The door opens and a small figure enters.
It is just Maisey.
My heart relaxes at the sight of her.
“Hi darling, what are you doing up so early?” I ask glancing at the clock, it is a little past six am.
Maisey is still dressed in her pajamas and her hair is a rat's nest. I am supposed to wake her up in an hour.
“I woke up a little while ago and couldn’t fall back asleep,” Maisey says with her head downcast.
“What’s keeping you up darling?”
I move out of my desk chair and make my way over to my daughter.
Maisey looks at me with wide glassy eyes.
“Is it true that Cam is your fiancée?” Maisey asks as she looks deep into my soul.
My mouth falls open at her words.
There is no way I just heard my daughter correctly.
“Where did you hear that honey?”
“From you.”
My brows furrowed, “When did you hear me call Cam my fiancée?”
