Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  But Pete held me firm, stroking my curves, his chest still hard against my back.

  “Little girls don’t say no to their daddies,” he admonished, “and this little girl is gonna be punished if she doesn’t do as Daddy orders,” he warned.

  The thought of punishment made my entire body go hot, the heat emanating from my puss in waves. Punishment? Oh god, with Mr. Parker? Yes, I wanted it.

  But this wasn’t the time to test the limits, so with a mewl, a whine and a shudder, I lifted my hips slightly until his cock was at my entrance once more, swollen folds still throbbing. I pushed down a little, kissing his dicktip with my vag, lips spreading an inch to let him in.

  “That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly in my ear, the vibrations of his chest against my back. “Keep going, pretty baby.”

  And I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my hips down again.

  “OH!” I squealed. “Oh oh!”

  Because the feel of my pussy stretching, taking dick for the first time was so unexpected, so rude, so titillating and yet so fucking good, that I knew I had to be doing this right. He filled me until I was full, made me spread and shift in a way that was unexpected, that only a man could do to a woman.

  “Thatta girl,” he murmured into my ear again. “Two inches in, still eight to go.”

  And my eyes flew open then. Holy smokes, only two inches so far? It felt like I had an entire dong in me, I was so filled, so full, how could it only be two inches?

  And the big man chuckled knowingly.

  “That’s right honey,” he murmured. “But you can do it, I know you can, you’re a big girl.”

  And I wanted to please him so badly, wanted that fuckrod in me so bad that I squeezed my eyes shut again and took a deep breath, determined to go all the way. Because with the next shove of my hips, it was done. I drove myself down on that fuckpole hard, balls to my asshole, and oh god, oh god, but there was a bursting sensation, a lance of pain as I sank down, pussy spread unbelievably wide, unbelievably fucked on this god of a man.

  “Oh!” was all I could manage. “Oh!”

  But Mr. Parker was on it. He growled approvingly against my throat, letting out soothing rumbles, a male comforting his female.

  “You did amazing,” he rasped reassuringly. “You did everything exactly right and now Daddy’s gonna make you feel good, a reward for my baby.”

  And he was as good as his word. Without moving an inch, one hand went up to my breast, toying with a nipple, squeezing and massaging the succulent flesh as another hand dipped between my thighs, parting my labia and finding my nub within.

  “Daddy’s gonna play with your clit,” he rasped into my ear again. “Daddy’s gonna play with his baby and then fuck you so hard, so fast honey, you’ll never forget.”

  And I wanted to answer, desperately wanted to say something except I couldn’t because my breath caught in my throat as his expert hands manipulated my body. My pussy was on fire, the ache between my legs making me moan and writhe, my cunt embedded on his dick, and I wanted it so bad, I wanted to be fucked so bad that I started fucking myself on his cock.

  “That’s a good girl,” he murmured into my ear as those magic fingers did their work. “Fuck yourself on me, do it you nasty whore.”

  And the words should have made me so angry but instead they turned me on, body lighting with fire. Because yeah, I was his whore, I was his cunt slut and fuck, but I needed to be fucked, bad. So I humped myself up and down his dick, just a bit at first, squeezing hard, rocking as my pussy loosened and adjusted. By now, Pete’s hand was doing a deep rub on my clit and it was exactly what was needed to take the sting away, to make me fuck him that much harder.

  “Please Mr. Parker,” I moaned. “Please, please.”

  And he grinned again, I could hear it in his voice.

  “That’s right,” he rumbled into my ear. “Fuck yourself on my cock, show me what a little slut you are, do it until you come baby, do it, do it.”

  And maybe it was because it was my first time, maybe it was his words, his fingers, his fuckpole, I’m not sure, but I came like a barreling train then, shrieking at the top of my lungs, my cunt clamping down hard on his dick again and again as I lost it.

  “Oh Mr. Parker!” I cried out, lost in the throes of ecstasy, breasts bobbling as my body was wracked with spasms. “Oh fuck oh fuck!”

  And as I rode the crest of sensations, as the tidal wave came crashing over my body, astonishingly the big man came too, my pussy milking him with its clenching spasms, drinking his cum as he spurted lash after lash of hot white up my insides.

  “Oh fuck baby,” he grunted in my ear, his penis hammering my pussy as the pole exploded, “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

  And it only made me come harder, feeling that hot white splash against my cervix, feeling a man’s virile juices fill me for the first time.

  “Yes!” I screamed. “Yes!”

  It was a never ending loop because we were locked in a circuit, each of my cries, each of his grunts, driving the other to higher heights until we both positively shattered.

  “Ummmmph!” he roared, fucking deep into me, cock spurting like a geyser. “Fuuuuck!”

  And with that I collapsed in his arms, keeling over a bit, pussy still embedded on his dick. Oh god, oh god, what had just happened? I shook with tremors, head spinning, every sense enhanced as the big man pulled my hips even closer, burying that pole as deep as it would go.

  And finally we began to drift to earth after the amazing ecstasy, to breathe instead of shatter, to savor the closeness, the incredible intimacy of what had just happened. I giggled, wiggling my hips a little.

  “You feel good in me,” I murmured, turning slightly to kiss him, our lips locked in a deep embrace. “You still feel hard.”

  And the big man pulled back for a moment, gazing into my eyes, those blue eyes gleaming.

  “If you’re not careful little girl, I will be hard in a sec and you’re gonna have to take it again.”

  I only giggled.

  “I can do it, Daddy,” I purred. “I’m sure I can.”

  And the gleam deepened in his eyes.

  “You sure about that?” he rumbled, grinding his dick into my wet folds. I gasped, eyes going wide because it felt amazing, yeah, but I was sore, there were parts of me that had never been touched that were now stretched around him, filled to the brim, and Mr. Parker knew.

  “Like I said,” he murmured again, kissing me deeply. “You sure about that?”

  And I sighed. I wanted the alpha male so badly, craved his embrace, his body, his mind, his heart, his everything, and yes … I would do anything to get it. So looking into his eyes once more, I nodded.

  “Yes,” I purred. “Do me again, Pete, now, let me taste that big dick again.”

  And with that, all bets were off. Because you know what? I am Mr. Parker’s fuckdoll, and will be for as long as he wants me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mandy

  Two weeks later …

  Even though we’ve been loving like mad, it’d be wrong to say that it’s only about the physical because there’s the emotional too. There’s something between Pete and I, edging in, overcoming both our senses, bonding us close. It happened slowly but surely, sometimes like a warm sensation seeping into our relationship, but sometimes also like a cannon shooting forward, launching us into the future.

  Because I’m now spending every day at Mr. Parker’s mansion, babysitting Violet while also playing with her dad, my body alert, on fire, each time he looks at me, each time he touches me. My parents know nothing of course, they think I’m a saint for helping a single dad get through a tough time, filling in while he searched for a nanny.

  And while I love being with Mr. Parker, this particular night I was exhausted and tired from singing the same songs over and over, rocking the baby in my arms until they were like lead. But I loved Violet too much to say no, absolutely adored the little girl, and it seemed my maternal instincts turned Pete on, his blue e
yes alert, trailing my form as I sat myself onto a stool in the kitchen.

  “Everything okay?” he rumbled low in his chest.

  I nodded.

  “You’re so lucky to have a baby like Violet,” I smiled while sipping at the tea he pushed towards me. Ooh, it was extra hot, just the way I like it. “She’s amazing, just so special.”

  Pete’s eyes flared then, but he didn’t say anything for a moment before clearing his throat slightly.

  “You ever think about having your own?” he asked nonchalantly, expression curiously guarded.

  And I sighed deeply. Because Mr. Parker was touching on one of my sore spots, an area that I was sure about but at the same time, also confused. Because yes, I desperately wanted children but I was too young right? Eighteen is too young to be a mom, right?

  So I smiled at him, determined not to say anything, but his blue eyes were so warm, so inviting, that I let it all out, right there at his kitchen table. I don’t know what was wrong with me, maybe it was the amazing sex we’ve been having, maybe it’s because he’s my first, or maybe it’s just that it’s him. But I felt safe, I felt fine with letting out one of my deepest secrets.

  “Yes,” I said slowly, firmly, “I absolutely want kids, and I’m hoping … the sooner the better,” I rushed.

  He quirked an eyebrow at me.

  “Well, what’s stopping you then?” he rumbled, voice low. I could tell he was trying to seem casual, but his body was too still, as if waiting on my every word.

  “Well, you know,” I sighed. “I’m too young.”

  He paused again.

  “In what sense?” he said smoothly, face expressionless.

  And I just sighed, hunching over my mug of tea.

  “Well you know, I’m supposed to go to college, be this good student, and then there’s grad school after that, and then my career …” I said, voice trailing off. “It’s going to take years,” I said ruefully. “I’m barely at rung one of this giant ladder that goes into the sky, it’s going to take forever to climb.”

  Mr. Parker was silent again.

  “Well you have time,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “You’re only eighteen baby, you’ve got plenty of years ahead of you. If you want kids, you’ll make it happen, I know you will.”

  I nodded.

  “I know I’ll have kids,” I agreed, nodding my head, biting my lip. “But the things is, according to my career trajectory it’s not supposed to happen until I’m in my thirties, or late twenties at the earliest,” I said, lips pulling into a twist. “I mean, with all that I have to get done, all the school, the studying, the exams, the internships, twenty-nine is probably the earliest I could get pregnant, and Pete, that’s eleven years from now.”

  The big man was silent, looking at me carefully.

  “Well, we’re not exactly playing it safe baby,” he said pointedly, “We haven’t been using anything, you said you wanted it that way.”

  And I flushed. I’d felt his dick in me bare so many times now that I couldn’t possibly imagine it any other way. So I nodded.

  “I know, Mr. Parker, I know, I think it’s part of my rebellion,” I whispered, clutching my cup tight to my chest. “I feel like the world wants me to be one way, but I want to be another.”

  He cocked his head at me, blue eyes gleaming.

  “And what do you want then?” he asked, casual, smooth. “What’s your heart telling you?”

  I sighed again.

  “My heart and my body are telling me to stop, to get off this career train,” I said slowly, feeling each word come out of my mouth. It was like a betrayal, everything my parents taught me flushed down the drain. But at the same time, it was a relief to finally get it out there. I’d been groomed since I was five to be a high-powered professional woman and to hear that I didn’t want it, that it wasn’t me, was curiously empowering. So I looked at him.

  “You have to understand,” I started slowly. “My mom and dad are working class folk, neither of them went to college, so for me to be at Evergreen makes them so proud,” I managed. “Getting my four-year is a huge thing for them.”

  And he nodded understandingly, thoughtful. So I continued.

  “And my parents only want what’s best for me,” I started again. “They’re so proud of me, and this whole lawyer thing, I don’t know, I guess I saw an episode of Law and Order when I was twelve and it just spiraled from there,” I finished helplessly.

  “You saw an episode of Law and Order, and that’s what set you on this path?” he rumbled, eyebrow cocked.

  And I nodded.

  “Yeah, and my parents always encouraged it, so it snowballed into this big huge thing. Because for them, having a lawyer in the family would be the ultimate validation, the ultimate sign that they succeeded in raising me. So now I feel like I have to get a JD and become this big fancy professional, putting on work clothes every day, schlepping off to a corporate office.”

  He interrupted me.

  “And that’s what you want?” Mr. Parker asked, his voice still neutral.

  And I shook my head, frustrated then.

  “It’s not,” I admitted. “I mean, it’s what I thought I wanted, for years I thought being a professional was my thing, but lately … I dunno, I’m just not sure anymore.”

  He paused then, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

  “You’re young honey, you can always change course. No need to be a lawyer, you could be an accountant. Have you thought about that?”

  And I snorted then. “Are you crazy, Mr. Parker? Seriously,” I stuck my tongue out at him, “numbers make me dizzy. Honestly my eyes cross when I see a spreadsheet, it blurs before my eyes. But it’s more than that,” I confided, suddenly serious again. “It’s getting off this professional career track altogether. I don’t want it, I mean I love Evergreen but I don’t need a degree from the school, I’m fine with … you know, just being me,” I bit my lip.

  Pete leaned forward then, brushing his lips against mine, making me sigh, the alpha male so near and yet so far. But he wasn’t done yet.

  “I hear you, I totally get it,” he growled. “But what did you have in mind if you don’t want to finish college?”

  And hearing him say it made it all that much more real, my heart pumping fast in my chest, the blood pounding with a new reality.

  “I want … I want to be a mom,” I admitted. “Like I said, waiting until my late twenties or early thirties seems like forever, and I want to do it now,” I almost whispered. “I want a baby, or even two or three, I want to feel my body swell with new life, breastfeed a newborn, even burp and clean their spit-up. That’s how much I want it,” I admitted.

  The big man looked at me sharply, blue eyes gleaming.

  “Well, honey, we can definitely do that, we’re on our way even now,” he said with a wry smile. “But why can’t you admit it to the world?”

  I bit my lip again.

  “Because it’s not what I’m supposed to want,” I tried again. “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying? I’ve been raised to want to be a lawyer, to want higher education, to want all these things, and I dunno, it’s hard you know? It’s hard to buck a lifetime of expectations, throw it all into the trash.”

  And that was when the alpha male threw his head back and roared with laughter, his eyes even tearing a bit, my words were so funny.

  “What?” I asked, pouting, mouth in a frown. “What is it? I’ve just revealed my inner conflict to you, it’s not that funny you know,” I grumped. “I’m sorry it’s so hysterical to you.”

  And he just wiped his eyes slightly, the rumbles subsiding into mere chuckles.

  “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he apologized. “I guess it’s just that I haven’t cared what anyone thought in so long that hearing it from you is refreshing. I guess that’s the difference between a teen girl and a mature man,” he said wryly. “When you get to my age, you stop caring what other people think so much.”

  I pau
sed for a moment.

  “Well, I’m not exactly you, but back when you were young, you were different right?” I asked. “I mean, back then you were influenced by all sorts of people, your parents, teachers, guidance counselors…” my voice trailed off.

  And now it was his turn to guffaw.

  “Guidance counselors? Fuck no,” he growled. “Honey I’ve been out on my own since I was sixteen, supporting myself. You think I had time for fucking guidance counselors? Fuck no, more like I was hustling for a dime, making deals, raising Hell,” he growled again. “For me, it’s always been my way, when I say and when I want, all the time.”

  And I sighed again. This was a male speaking, an adult male who was rich, powerful, and influential, and I was none of those things, with none of the confidence.

  “But it’s different for me,” I tried again. “I’m a girl.”

  He clasped my hand then, square fingers warm around mine, swallowing my small palm in his big grasp.

  “No it’s not,” he said roughly, staring into my eyes, that blue gaze meeting mine. “Mandy, you know what you want and I just heard you say it articulately, with warmth and conviction. Yeah, maybe having kids at eighteen isn’t what you were raised to want, but it doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Hell, I wish I had kids younger,” he snorted.

  I sat back then, dumbfounded.

  “You do?” I asked. “But you’re not old.”

  He grinned at me then.

  “Love to hear you say that honey,” he said smoothly, “but I’m forty and Violet’s only five. You know how old I’m gonna be when she’s twenty-five? Sixty, baby, I’m gonna be a fucking retiree when my daughter’s a young adult, I’m gonna be living in a fucking retirement home.”

  I giggled then. Retirees ate mushy pasta and applesauce, tottering on their walkers with their underwear sticking out of their pants, right? I couldn’t imagine Pete as that, not even close.

  “You’ll be fine,” I giggled again. “You’re a long ways from the senior center.”