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Your night couldn’t have turned out worse, really. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t do anything, you know it doesn’t, but you can’t help it.
Your Hinge date left you hanging at the restaurant, blocking your number once you said you’d arrived. Are you fucking kidding me? Who does that? He could’ve at least cancelled before you got ready. He could’ve cancelled before you hyped yourself up with a getting-ready drink and a pep-talk with your hometown best friend, who ushered you out the door to get there on time.
Fuck that guy. At least the waitress felt bad enough to get you a glass of their local red on the house to go with your pasta.
The breaks between college semesters were boring in your hometown, to say the least. You and your friends had to find some way to keep yourselves entertained once you turned 21. This seedy bar you wandered to after dinner was nothing to call home about, just a place you’ve been a few times when you wanted to get fucked up and sing Act Up on the karaoke machine. The bartenders recognized your face, but didn’t know your name. They knew you enough to realize it was odd for you to stroll in by yourself without your best friend by your side.
You weren’t in the karaoke mood tonight, though. You were just trying to get laid by someone hot who hopefully didn’t go to your high school. Even if they did, you’d be back for your last semester in college in two weeks; not too much on the line.
The shitty stool wobbled beneath you, the red leather peeling and itching your thighs a bit. You set your purse on the counter, whipping out your ID to flash the bartender so they didn’t get a look from the cop that was down the counter from you. “Why you look so down, girl? Where’s your cute friend?” The bartender questioned.
“Shut up, Danny. Are you saying I’m not cute?” You scoffed, feigning offense before cracking a smile, unable to resist his familiar face. “Just stood up by another random asshole, gettin sick of this ‘dating’ thing.” You put air quotes around “dating” with your fingers, propping your elbows up and resting your chin on your hands.
“Fuck, really? Figured that someone who looks like you would be able to snag anyone ‘ya wanted.” He shrugs, sliding up to the counter in front of you.
“Nothing a vodka redbull can’t fix, am I right?” You teased, flashing him a smile. He grins and shakes his head at you, tapping the counter and leaving to make your drink. “And make one for yourself, too,” you shout, “On me!”
He shoots a thumbs-up over his shoulder, grabbing another glass from the cabinets. Your eyes darted around the room, doing a quick scan to see if anyone you know was there. They land on your friend Jakob - you’d had a class together once in high school and an awkward kiss in the backseat of your car at the end of your senior year. He texted once in a while, mostly sharing happy birthday’s and the odd post on Instagram that he knew you’d like.
Jakob looks up from the pool table, catching your eye before he shoots, setting the stick down and making his way towards you. Why does he look kinda good? The alcohol must be getting to your head. He’s got on a pair of loose black jeans, a white tee, and a worn, brown leather jacket that you’ve seen him in before.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” He gave you that mischievous look that was all-too-familiar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder from his spot standing next to you, kissing the top of your head.
“Could say the same for you, buddy. How’d that firefighting job work out for you?” You asked as Danny set your drink down in front of you.
“I’ll take one of whatever she’s got.” Jakob nodded at Danny, pulling up a stool next to you. “It’s alright, just one of my rare days off. And what have you been up to at that big-league college of yours?” You shook your head at him, trying to hide a smile.
You weren’t the closest friends in school, but he always saw right through you - knew you wanted more than a life in this small town. “Oh, you know, the usual. Go to class, smoke on Friday nights, dogsit for my neighbor,” you sigh, “Graduating in May though! Not sure what’s after that.” You hoped he didn’t launch into a bullshit speech about post-grad careers, he didn’t know much about the psychology field.
“That’s what’s up! Got a boyfriend down there, too? Bet the college hotties are all over you.” He thanked Danny when he set his drink down, swallowing nearly half the glass on his first sip.
“Ugh don’t even mention it,” you threw your head back in exasperation, “All the guys wanna do there is get my Snapchat. Who the fuck uses Snapchat anymore? Just ask for my number! I mean seriously-” You cut yourself off from your rant, grabbing your drink and taking a few sips to calm down.
He watches as you complain and wave your hands around in the air, he’d always been a good listener. “Sounds like you’re surrounded by dogs,” he chuckles, “Are you looking for something, though?”
You sigh, placing your glass down. “Kind of-sort of-not really? Fuck, I don’t even know what I want. Is there a point in seeing someone if I’m just going to graduate soon?” You said honestly, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Sounds like you’re a little bit uptight, at least a good fuck would help with the tension.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. You sputtered on your drink at that, raising your eyebrows at him.
“Shut it, Jakob!” You smack his arm lightly.
“Alright alright, I’ll stop. Would it at least help if I let you whoop my ass at a game of pool?”
“Let me? We’ll see about that.”
—
Jack is getting too old for this shit. He knows it, the bartender knows it, and his back definitely knows it because it aches in protest when he takes a seat on the shitty, wobbly stool.
He doesn’t usually go out, but Robby’s throwing himself a fucking pity party after the longest shift of their life, and he feels compelled to at least buy his buddy a drink so he doesn’t go to the roof of the PTMC and meet Jack at the sidewalk. They’re both tired as shit, eye bags weighing heavy and feet shuffling through the door like a pair of zombies.
Jack starts a tab on his card, ordering himself and Robby a beer, glancing around the joint. It’s mostly filled with men like him; older, feeling sorry for themself, maybe trying to forget. He does spot a few younger guys near the pool tables, and a few more playing what looks like a drinking game at the sticky tables.
Robby pats his shoulder, taking a swig from his beer. “Thanks for this, brother. Know I’d never do anything for myself, it’s nice to get out once in a while.” His brown eyes are glossy with unshed tears, refusing to lose his tough exterior.
“Don’t mention it. Just wish we could find you a nice lady to help you settle down with.” Jack chuckled, grabbing his own beer. He knew Robby stopped seeing that woman from the hospital, he could at least find someone to keep him company for one night. Honestly Jack just cared about him leaving the pitt in one piece.
Robby scoffed in reply. “Don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon,” his eyes scan the room, “Besides, think I only see one woman in here, pretty young thing at the pool table.”
Jack follows Robby’s gaze, eyes landing on you bent over the table, measuring where to shoot the white ball from to get your solid blue one in. The black mini skirt you’ve got on is sinfully short, your ass peeking out the bottom while you’re bent over like that. He takes in your knee-high boots and brown leather jacket, whistling while looking back at Robby. “She’s cute, kid probably wouldn’t want an old man like you.” He teased, knowing that the same was probably true for him.
“I know I know, can look but I won’t touch.” Robby sighed, watching you balance the stick between your fingers, aiming to shoot.
You successfully shot the blue solid in, trying for the yellow but missing. It wasn’t until you stood upright that Jack got a glimpse of your face, his face burning red when he realized who it was. “Holyyy shit.” He drew out, setting his beer down.
“What’s up?” Robby questioned, a puzzled look on his face.
“Y’know my high school buddy that passed a few years back? Yeah, that’s his daughter. Watched that girl grow up and go off to college.” Maybe he can pretend like he wasn’t just ogling your ass, like he wasn’t just making filthy comments to his friend about you.
He watches as you prop your stick against the table, waiting for your friend (boyfriend?) to take his shot. You pick up your drink, cringing a little as you down the rest of it, seemingly hitting the vodka-only bit at the bottom of the glass. You nod towards your friend, jabbing your thumb in the direction of the bar to let him know you’re going to grab another drink.
You’re a few paces away from him when you look up, spotting his familiar face. You freeze in your tracks. “Jack?” You call out with equal amounts of shock and excitement.
“Hey kiddo! What’re you doing here? You sure you’re old enough to drink?” He teases, still feeling flustered from his inappropriate thoughts earlier.
“Oh stop, I’m twenty-two now. And graduating in May!” You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a hug. He feels guilty for gulping down whiffs of your sweet perfume, maybe clutching you a bit tighter than what was standard for your relationship dynamic.
“Wow, it’s that time already, huh? This is my buddy Robby from the pitt, he probably helped deliver you, actually, if you were a day-shift baby.” He can tell you’re a little more than tipsy when you bite your lip at Robby, looking at him with those wide eyes.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” you say oh-so-sweetly, “Any friend of Jack is a friend of mine.” You lean in to hug Robby as well. He throws a smirk at Jack over your shoulder, his hand traveling to the small of your back. It rests there while you start to chat with the two of them. “Jack and my dad went way back. Pretty sure this guy gave me my first sip of beer at sixteen at our Fourth of July parties.”
“Oh Jack, always getting the good girls in trouble.” Robby grins, watching your face heat up. He sees the glint in Jack’s eyes, knows that he wants you but won’t admit it to himself. “Let’s get you another drink, sweetheart.”
You wave Jakob off, pointing to your phone to let him know you texted him. Dad’s old friend, I’m good. Text tomorrow, let’s get dinner?
Sure, he replies. Be safe. He nods back at you as he wraps the game up with his own friends before heading out.
—-
“You’re handsome Doctor Robby.” You drunkenly giggle as you finish your fourth, maybe fifth, drink. It’s way past your bed time now, the time of night where no good can come of being up so late.
“Alright honey, that’s enough. You better call it a night.” Jack suggests, but it sounds more like a demand to you. He’s only had one beer, and Robby’s hand on your waist is making him seethe. You had just finished telling them about one of your psychology classes. He was listening intently, but he’s pretty sure Robby is more set on trying to catch a glance down your shirt while you’re pressed up next to him.
“You sound jealous.” You tease, patting his bicep. “Welp, guess I’m cut off, doctor.” You blink up at Robby, fluttering your lashes. “He’s no fun.”
“Looks like it, sweetheart. Jack’s got my number, give me a call.” He winks. Jack grabs your arm, pulling you aside before sharing a few hushed words with his friend.
Jack turns back to you, putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the bar while making sure you don’t trip on your own two feet. “I’m not eating any apples if that’s the chief of staff at the pitt.” You laugh, falling into his side.
“Sure you aren’t, sweetie. Looked like you were about to start drooling. Wasn’t that your boyfriend at the pool table?” He questioned, trying not to make it obvious how much he cared about the answer.
“No, that was just a friend!” You giggle and lean into his chest as he holds the door open for you, the cool night air causing your face to flush red. “I’m jus’ by myself tonight, got stood up on a date.” You trail off, quieting down when you realize you’re not sure how you’re getting home.
Jack looks down at you, slowing until he’s facing you, a few feet away from his car. “You came here tonight by yourself?” He grits his teeth.
“I’m a grown woman, Jack. I’m not the little girl that you taught to swim anymore!” You exclaim, waving your hands around in the air. Jack tries to hide a grin as you stamp your foot on the ground. Sure you aren’t, kid.
“Yes you are. C’mon, kiddo. Let me take you home, pretty sure your mom doesn’t want you stumbling in shit-faced at this time of night.”
“Fuck, fine. You’re right.” You let him lead you a few more steps to his car, waiting for him to open the passenger door. “For the record, I’m not usually a stupid, drunk college kid, Abbot.” You spit out, trying to sound brave but failing.
He helps you into the SUV, making sure you’re buckled. “Sure you aren’t, sweetheart.” He shuts the door before you can reply, quickly rounding the vehicle and starting it.
There’s not much conversation on the drive back. You sing along to whatever’s on the radio, trying your best to annoy him. Your head flops over on the headrest, taking in Jack’s appearance. He’s got on a tight-fitting black tee that stretches oh-so-nicely over his pecs and huge biceps, with a pair of army camo pants and his boots. Since when did this dude join the S.W.A.T. team? You mean to ask him, but get distracted when he puts a hand on your thigh, higher than your knee but not quite touching your skirt. Fuck, his hands are so hot.
“So, you got stood up. Wanna talk about it?” He asks quietly, glancing over at you just to see you staring back at him. He tries not to look down where your skirt rides up from moving around in the seat.
“Ugh, I don’t know. I just wish I could find a decent guy. Everyone at college is a frat-bro or an incel, haven’t met anyone great.” You shrug, biting your lip. Jack chuckles at that, patting your leg.
“And what about the guy you were with tonight? The one that’s not your boyfriend?”
“Jakob’s too young for me.” You argue.
“How old is he?”
“Six months older than me.”
Jack scoffs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. You see his house coming into view now, pulling into the quaint neighborhood. Everything looks the same as the last time you were here over four years ago.
—
You finish up in the guest bathroom shower, wrapping the fluffiest towel you’ve ever seen around yourself, and heading back into the bedroom. You didn’t question it when Jack said he’d leave some clothes out for you before making his way to the living room, probably about to pour himself a few fingers of whiskey. You pick up the shirt on the bed, recognizing the worn-out name of his medical school. You slide it over your head, the piece hanging down to expose a collarbone, the hem just covering your ass. He’s also left a pair of basketball shorts that you know will look god-awful on you, so you just settle for putting your lacy black boyshorts on.
You were right about the whiskey. Jack’s foot is propped up on the coffee table - prosthetic still on - with an arm outstretched on the back of the couch, the other hand cradling his glass. There’s a thick medical journal open on his lap, and he looks concentrated reading the pages.
“Sober up a little?” He calls out before looking up, his mouth going dry at the sight of you. You’re a fucking temptation like that, dressed in his shirt that’s probably older than you are.
The sentiment is shared on your end - he looks good to say the least. He’s down to a looser pair of black boxers with the same shirt on. “Y-yeah! Just didn’t expect my night to end like this,” you huff out a laugh, “Honestly thought I’d be faking an orgasm with my Hinge date by now.” You grin, joining him on the couch. He white-knuckles the glass, tossing his head back on the couch.
“You can’t say stuff like that, kid.” He groans. You're cozied right up next to him, his arm around your shoulders and your knees leaning into his thigh.
“What! It’s true!” You exclaim. “Guys my age just don’t know what to do.”
“Oh yeah? And you think some old geezer is gonna treat you right, hm?” He looks down at your soft legs, wishing his shirt would ride up to reveal some more skin. Jesus, Abbot. Get it together. “You don’t think they just wanna use a pretty thing like you then dump you?”
You pout at the comment, grabbing the glass out of his hands and taking a swig. “I don’t know, just like the way they make me feel.” You say softly. You turn your body to face him, one leg curled up further on the couch. He cups the back of your neck with the hand that was on the couch, thumb pressing into the hinge of your jaw.
“You poor thing, just needed someone to take care of you.” His voice is dripping in faux empathy. He knows he’s about to cross a line, but the whiskey has you both warmed up, and you look so sweet and pliant sitting there.
You nod, mouth hanging open when his thumb moves to trace your bottom lip. His skin is rough against yours but it feels so good. It feels so good that you might forgive him for not checking in on you the past few years, for going nearly silent after your dad died.
Suddenly, his hand falls away from you. He runs it through his hair, looking defeated. “Fuck sweetheart, we can’t do this.”
“We can’t? Or you won’t?” You emphasize. “Come on, Jack. I know you think I’m pretty.” You said sweetly, maybe a little naively.
You set the glass down on a coaster, the remaining alcohol coursing through you and giving you the confidence for your next move. “Of course I think that, honey. You’re a beautiful girl- I, fuck.” He curses as you swing a leg over, straddling his lap. His clothed dick is pressing right against your panties, causing you to moan out when your hips land on his.
“Please Doctor Abbot,” you set your hands on his broad shoulders, “Please touch me, I know you want to.” Jack’s vision practically blacks out when you call him that - a name he hadn’t heard you say in years.
He sets his hands on your hips to stop you from moving, still trying to have a sense of appropriateness. “You’re a filthy girl, you know that? Coming down here with just your little panties on, Jesus Christ, you knew what it would do to me.” One hand skates up your spine, landing itself on the nape of your neck to tug your head back. He leans up, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point to feel your heartbeat. “Calling me doctor like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.”
Jack is screwed and he knows it. You’re writhing on top of him like you’re ready to cum, even though he’s hardly touched you. “Oh, yes please. I need it!” You whine, fingernails digging into his shoulder. He uses the hand in your hair to tilt your head back down towards him, finally kissing you.
He tastes like whiskey and the scent of his cologne is making you feel dizzy. You moan into the kiss, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He holds you tight, his grip on your hair tilting you whichever way he wanted.
There’s a string of spit connecting you when you pull apart, and you watch it snap and fall onto your collarbone. Jack’s quick to kiss down your neck, leaving little bite marks and sucking a few bruises. “Oh my god, mom’s gonna kill me if she sees all those.”
Jack pulls off your neck for a second. “Oh yeah? Should’ve thought about that before seducing a pervert like me.” He yanked your head back, continuing his bruising kisses on your neck. The hand on your hip travels up your shirt, groping your tits.
“Mm! Feels- feels so good. Knew you’d wanna be rough with me.” You’re stuttering out your words, breath hitching in your throat at every pinch and squeeze of your nipples.
He pinches your left side particularly hard, your hips automatically grinding down into his. “Fuck honey, I’m not gonna to hold myself back if you keep acting like that.” He growls out, his hardening cock grinding up to meet your hips. You can feel yourself soaking through your underwear, coating his boxers with your slick.
“D-don’t hold back, Doctor Abbot,” you gasp, “Show me how you really feel.”
He curses under his breath, his hands finding a tight grip on your ass. He stands up and your arms cling around his neck as he carries you to his bedroom. “Oh wow, haven’t been in here since I was a kid. That time dad wanted me to tie all your shoelaces together.” You huff out a laugh, losing your breath again when he deposits you on the bed. You prop yourself up on your forearms, biting your lip while you watch him.
“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grins, “Guess some things just don’t change.” He grabs his crutches from behind the door and props them on the nightstand, sitting at the edge of the bed to take his prosthetic off.
From your position on your back, you can see the muscles rippling under his shirt. Jack’s been in impeccable shape his whole life - your whole life - and you started to notice around the time you turned sixteen. Your friends noticed, too, at the Fourth of July parties and birthdays.
It dawns on you that this is real, this is happening, when he pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor in a pile of laundry that is characteristic of his busy schedule. “I’ve changed,” you argue back, “and I’m not a brat!” He shakes his head, his low laugh sounding. He turns to you, now climbing on the bed and crawling towards you.
You feel like prey caught in a trap when he pushes your thighs open, kneeling between your spread legs. He looks down at you with that gaze, a little condescending, and hooks two thick fingers in the band of your underwear, starting to tug them down.
“You’re right, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, there won’t be a defiant bone left in your body. You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” You don’t reply, just look up at him through your lashes and give a small nod. He gives a pleased smirk, finally pulling your panties down your legs. You can hear the crack when some of the lace rips from the rough treatment.
Jack’s eyes zero in on where you’re wet and wanting, your swollen clit peeking out. He hooks his hands under your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest. “Be good and hold these for me.” He says before laying down, his face inches away from your pussy.
You grab your thighs, gripping onto them when you feel his breath hit your skin, his lips pressing kisses along the innermost part of your thighs. “S-stop fucking teasing.” You pant out.
His hands grip your hips, holding them down when he finally presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clit. You have a feeling that his stubble is gonna leave your skin red and sore tomorrow. Worth it, though.
He starts to work you over with his tongue, dragging downwards to gather the wetness from your entrance and bringing it back up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. “Oh fuck, Jack!” You moan, looking down at him devouring you.
You feel one of his hands leave your hips, his middle finger teasing your entrance before sliding in to the last knuckle. “God your hands are big,” you whine, “Feels like two of mine.”
He pulls off you, giving your clit a break to focus on the finger working inside you now. “So tight, honey. Those boys at school not fucking you properly, hm?” Your blush reaches your chest at that.
“Oh my god.” You groan, throwing your head back against the navy sheets. He curls his finger inside you in a ‘come here’ motion, hitting that magical spot that your fingers always missed.
“Daddy, please more, please-” You cut yourself off once you realize what you’ve said.
Jack’s finger stills inside you. You glance down at him, hips thrusting up trying to get his mouth back on you or his finger moving again. “What? Why’d you stop?” You whine. He’s looking up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, and you know that he’s never going to let you live this down.
“What was that, sweetie?” He says, playing oblivious.
“It’s nothing, just- just keep going!” You snap, moving your hips a bit. He presses his ring finger in with the other, curling them into your g-spot again.
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” he raised his eyebrows, “Sounded like you wanted to call me daddy.” He starts fucking his fingers back into you slowly, lips reattaching to your clit to try to draw the name out of you.
Your thighs are trembling fiercely after a minute or so, your nails digging into your thighs so hard they’ll probably leave little marks. You didn’t know that oral from a man could be so good - only having experience with a few guys from school and then the girl you were with for a few months.
“Fuck- fine, I need to cum, daddy!” You cry out, lifting your head to look down at him. His fingers speed up and he looks back up at you, your eyes locking.
“You need to? Hopefully you learn some manners after I fuck you.” Suddenly you’re empty, your body clenching at the loss. “On your stomach, baby.” He orders. Or at least it sounds like an order to you. You groan in protest as you flip yourself over, pushing up onto your hands and knees.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him work out of his boxers, discarding them on the floor with your panties. From what you can see, he’s fucking huge, and you know you’ll be in for a good night.
The room spins when Jack places a hand between your shoulder blades, pushing down hard. You whimper when your sensitive nipples make contact with the sheets. “I said stomach, kid, not hands and knees. I already make you that stupid? Haven’t even fucked you yet…” He trails off, rubbing the tip of his cock through your wetness.
Your body feels hot all over, your blush seemingly reaching from your cheeks down to your toes. He feels fucking thick, and long, from what you felt (and saw) when you were dry humping earlier. Jesus. Is that what you did now? Dry hump your father’s best friend?
You tilt your head to the side to breathe, your hair fanning over your face. His unoccupied hand tangles itself in your hair, pushing you into the mattress.
“Gonna fuck you now, honey. Be a good girl.” And he’s pushing in, the head popping past your tight walls. He honestly-probably-definitely is the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it has you feeling like the virgin you were in your freshman year of college.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, “So big.” Your hands lay uselessly by your head, gripping the sheets to distract how it feels like he’s carving a spot inside you.
“Yeah?” He chuckles. “Don’t worry, sweetie, daddy will make it fit.” You clench down at that, causing him to groan. Your vision is fuzzy by the time his hips meet your ass, and you’re pretty sure your mouth is hanging open, drooling onto the bed.
His shirt has well since fallen down your body, bunched up at your upper back. He slides a hand up your waist, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples again. You barely shiver at the rough treatment, too focused on the dick reaching deep inside you.
Jack moans when he bottoms out - after what felt like ages of working his way inside of you. The hand on your head is stroking your hair like a pet, his pet, and you’ve never felt more at home than you did right now. At least that you could remember. You gasp in breaths, barely remembering to breathe through the stretch, greedily inhaling the scent of his cologne from the sheets.
He pulls out slowly and thrusts back in, and it’s better than you ever imagined. He’s thick and long, his cock reaching you in all the right places.
“Daddyyyy.” You draw out, reaching a hand behind you to feel for him. Your fingertips graze his silver happy trail before he snatches your wrist, pinning it to your lower back. He uses the hold to drag you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet his thrusts.
“Ah ah, only good girls get to touch.” His raspy voice mocks you, his hips drilling into you. The headboard hits the wall, and you’re actually glad that you’re not in your shitty apartment with paper-thin walls. Your thighs shake at the force of his thrusts, wet noises coming from your body that make your cheeks flush.
He sets a punishing pace, drawing noises out of you that resemble those of the girls you’ve seen in porn. Two thick fingers are suddenly shoved in your mouth, causing you to choke on your moan.
“There we go,” he sighs, “That should stop my neighbors from sending in a noise complaint.” He chuckles meanly, causing you to whine around the digits. You can hear him grunting behind you, putting all his weight into fucking you.
You think about the date you were supposed to meet tonight - a fleeting thought - and wonder what will happen after this. If Jack will want to visit you for your last semester at college, make you choke on his cock while trying to be quiet. If he’d let you live with him if you became a couple after all this. To be fair, it had been around 15 years since his wife passed, and you never saw him with another woman. You’d be content to let him use you for however long he wanted, as long as it was you he was paying attention to.
Your focus is drawn back to the present when a spank lands on your ass, causing you to squeal out. Both his hands are on your hips now, practically holding them up for you since your knees were so weak.
“Do you like taking my cock, baby? Like it when daddy fucks you like a slut?” He taunts, slowing down.
“Yes daddy,” you gasp, “I love it!” He wraps an arm underneath you to find your clit, rubbing tight little circles on it. A groan rips out of your throat, and you’re ready to cum.
“God such a pretty little cunt, feels like it was made for me, honey.” He grits in your ear, his full body pressing into yours. You’re trembling while he plays you like an instrument, trying to get the best sound out of you.
Your clit pulses as he keeps whispering obscenities in your ear. “I-I’m gonna cum, daddy!” You cry out, eyes watering.
“Ask politely.” He demands, not letting up on the pressure.
“Please- please let me cum, I’ll be good!”
“Come on, cum on daddy’s cock. Squeeze that cunt good to make him cum.”
“Oh my god, fuck, daddy!” One more second and your ears are ringing, vision whiting out as your orgasm rips through your body. You’re squirting around his cock, and it feels like you’ll never be dry again once he’s done with you.
He fucks you through it, causing your body to spasm at the lingering sensitivity. Luckily he stops torturing your clit, hands finding their position back on your hips as he chases his own orgasm.
“Want me to cum inside you, sweetheart?” He groans, hips stuttering. You can tell he’s close.
“Yes please! I’m on birth control, I can take it!” Even if you weren’t on birth control, you’d let him do it anyway for the satisfaction. You’ll make him buy you a Plan B either way for safety purposes.
His hips still, balls deep as he finishes inside you. He curses as his grip on your hips tightens for a few seconds, leaving bruises. You can feel him pulsing inside you, coming down.
You both stay in position for a moment before he pulls out slowly, his release dripping down to your clit and landing on the sheets. Your whole body aches when you flip over, finding a pillow for your head and settling on your back. He strokes a hand down your thigh before he scoots to the edge of the bed for his crutches. “Gonna grab a towel, hang on baby.”
You watch his muscular form retreat to the linen closet in the bathroom, hearing the water run before he’s back. He gently spreads your legs open, making sure to clean up the mess that had dripped down your thighs.
“Was that alright? Was I too rough on ya’?” His voice is low as he concentrates on your sore pussy, glistening and red. He wipes the skin softly, tossing the rag off to the side once he’s done.
“That- that might’ve been the best I’ve ever had.” You giggle, remembering how to breathe normally again.
“Good, good. I’m glad.” He joins you laying down, letting you curl into his chest. It’s silent for a while before you think about talking. You’re not even sure if he’s awake - his breathing gone heavy.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” You mumble, stroking the grey hair on his chest.
“What? Honey, that’s crazy. I’ll always be here for you. Just didn’t think this ole’ city was much your style.” He chuckled, smoothing his hand down your back. He was right, in a way.
“It’s not. But what happens when I graduate? Do you wanna do this again?” You ask nervously.
“Course I do, sweetheart. You’ve got your own room at school, right? Just share the house?”
You nod in response.
“Well then, I’d be happy to visit if you’ve got space in your princess room for me. We’ll figure something out once you graduate. Got all my retirement money just waiting to be used up by a pretty girl.” He smiles down at you.
You like the sound of that.