by S. E. Law
Slowly, I pull my finger out, watching with satisfaction as it reappears from her private hole. The digit is glistening with her juices and I want nothing more than to taste her nectar at this moment. But this sweet girl deserves more, and I slowly began to slide my finger in and out of her tightness.
“Mmmm,” she moans breathily, her eyes still closed in sleep.
“Enjoy it, baby girl,” I rasp under my breath. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
My fingers continue their quest, easing in and out of her damp, swollen folds. She cries out again, breathily, still completely asleep and I barely breathe from the dirty sight before me. My daughter-in-law, lushly nude, with my fingers buried in her twat. Who would have guessed that this would happen? Yet I’m a man in need, and I slowly ease her towards climax.
“That a girl,” I growl in a low voice, watching her beautiful body intensely. “Just go with it.”
Cora seems to hear me, and on the next wet plunge into her depths, she stiffens for a bit and then cries out. Sure enough, her hot folds clamp down on my finger, nearly breaking it off, as she convulses with ecstasy.
“Oh!” she moans breathily. “Oh god, Matt!”
I hold still even as her warm tunnel squeezes my finger again and again. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest. Did she really just call out my name during her moment of ecstasy? Does this beautiful girl dream naughty dreams of me, her father-in-law?
As she relaxes once more into a blissful sleep, I slowly withdraw my glistening finger from her folds. She moans again, tossing, and then sighs and settles down. I look down at Cora, my heart pounding. Holy shit. Did that really just happen? But looking at her luscious form, I know that I’m going to need more than a bit of naughtiness with a sleeping Cora. I’m going to need her hot, voluptuous, and awake, ready to accept my maleness with all of that luscious body.
Slowly, I leave the room, desperate to put some space between temptation and myself.
Grabbing the still-lit lantern, I slowly make my way down the stairs and back into the living room to survey the damage as best I can. Outside, the storm continues to rage.
Fuck, did I really just do that? Did I finger my daughter-in-law as she slept?
Grimly, I stare straight forward even as my thoughts.
Fuck. I did. And she was so fucking sexy the entire time.
I’m half tempted to go upstairs at this very moment and push my way into her wet depths with my hardness, repercussions be damned, but I get a hold of my sanity.
Leave Cora alone. Give her some peace. You’ve already done enough.
As if in response, lightning flashes, illuminating the couch, and a rumble of thunder shakes the cabin.
I guess I’m staying on the couch tonight.
I go to the kitchen to look for matches and some candles. Finding both, I take the items into the living and set them on the coffee table. Cautiously, so as not to ignite another fire, I light the candles so I can see the room a little better.
In the dim light of the candles and lantern, I take in the damage that was done to the room mere moments earlier. I don’t know how long the fire was raging before I arrived, but the damage is severe.
It’s a dismal sight – the couch is soaked through, and singed all over. One chair is completely done for, its once blue flannel pattern now a mess of blackened cotton. The rug has just a little water damage and only a few small spots where the sparks struck. The fireplace itself, however, is a disaster: a blob of logs, ash, and bits of burnt cloth.
I hold the lantern closer to the fireplace, attempting to see how the walls faired.
“Holy hell.”
Honestly, I’d thought the damage would be bad, but I had not expected it to be like this.
In addition to the few pieces of ashy furniture, the entire wall by the fireplace has severe water damage. Shit, I think to myself, I’m definitely going to have to see if there’s any structural damage in the morning, once I can see better. But for now, with the soft glow of the lantern as my only source of light, I can only hope that the water damage is limited to these two walls.
Seeing the destruction, I feel my rage start to return. I slam my first hard on the couch arm, and immediately it’s soaking wet from the movement.
How could Cora be so stupid?
I shake my head, correcting my accusation. No, not stupid, just naïve.
I let my mind wander toward images of the sleeping woman upstairs. How her brunette hair lay tousled across the pillow, how she fell asleep curled against me. How sexy she looked in nothing but her panties and her bra. How I touched her illicitly as she slept.
I feel my pants tighten in response to my forbidden thoughts. Part of me wants to wake her up and shake her, hard, for being a fool about the fire. But even more, I want to wake her up by kissing her soft lips, and to hear her moan my name while I let the kisses trail down her neck to her full breasts...
Stop, I command myself. You need to figure out what the hell you’re going to say to her tomorrow.
I start pacing the small room, my shoes making a squishing sound against the wet rug.
I was too hard on her, I acknowledge. I sigh, knowing that in the morning I will need to apologize for behaving like a monster.
Cora is feisty, and I know from many different occasions spent with her that she acts a lot tougher than she is. The engagement dinner had been one of the most heart wrenching events I’ve ever witnessed. Cora trying so hard to stay upbeat for her guests but the whole time feeling lost about Marky.
Of course, the poor girl wasn’t thinking straight tonight. I cover my face with my hands and groan into them. Anyone can make a mistake about fire safety, especially when their mind is preoccupied with ending an engagement. She probably also freaked out with the storm and just didn’t think clearly. Yet, I was a complete ass to her.
“I have to apologize to her,” I say out loud to the quiet cabin. After taking another quick look around the ashy room, I shake my head and vow to control my fury in the morning when I issue that apology.
I blow out the candles and take them back to the kitchen. I place them in the sink to avoid them relighting and sparking another fire. Weary, I take the lantern and go back to the couch.
Soggy, I think with disdain. Fuck my life. I have to sleep on a soggy couch.
I let my glance shift to the ceiling above me. Maybe there are other rooms upstairs. At least I know where the sheets are now.
Carefully, just as I had done earlier with Cora pressed into my side, I make my way up the steep stairs. The lantern casts shadows on the wall as I make my way up, and I shiver against the cold. At the second-floor landing, I hear a sound from Cora’s room.
Maybe I should check on her. I’m worried that Cora may have inhaled too many poisonous fumes from the ink or the lighter fluid, and I use this as my excuse to peek in on the sleeping woman.
Quietly, so as not to wake her, I push open the already slightly ajar door leading into Cora’s room. I set the lantern down on the floor by the doorway, so it casts a soft light into the room – enough to see with but not enough to wake her.
In front of me, Cora is gently snoring, some of the covers now pushed off only to reveal her ample bosom rising and falling in peaceful sleep. I watch her for a moment, assuring myself it’s just to make sure Cora is breathing properly, but it’s also for the pure enjoyment of seeing her breasts rise and fall in such perfect rhythm. What do they taste like? I’ve had a sample and it was nowhere near enough.
My whole body tightens in response to the titillating vision, and I have to control my urge to cross to the bed and kiss her – this time between her legs.
But then, Cora rolls around in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent and then wincing, her face scrunching up in reaction to something in her dream.
I let myself watch her for a few more moments, unable to step away. But as I watch Cora’s fitful sleep, I realize that I can’t give in to the temptation to touch or kiss her.
No. I s
hake my head. You’ve already done enough. What kind of man takes advantage of a poor girl when she’s this vulnerable? You have no morals.
Chastened, I slowly back out of the room, determined to leave the sleeping beauty alone.
Back in the hallway, I pull Cora’s door until it’s only slightly ajar and take a deep breath. I have never been so tempted by a woman before, never wanted to give in to my lust with such intensity. How does she do this to me? I muse as I make my way down the hallway to another bedroom, trying to find a place to sleep.
The ring. The whole reason I came up to the cabin in the first place. Cora wasn’t wearing it, I realize.
Fine, I decide. I’ll just get it in the morning and be out of here first thing. If I stay, bad things are going to happen.
I won’t give up my sanity for a woman, no matter how beautiful and tempting she may be.
Resolved, I continue my search for a place to sleep, determined to stop thinking about the luscious girl behind the door.
11
Cora
What, where am I? I keep my eyes closed in the early morning darkness and try to wiggle around, but I’m being firmly held down by some sort of weight.
My head is pounding with a headache, and just like that, the entire events of the night before come rushing back to me. I groan as I suddenly remember that Marky’s dad showed up and put out the fire and then put me to bed. In my bra and panties!
I open my eyes widely. Matt Harrison saved my life last night. It’s both an embarrassing and exciting thought.
Why am I so warm? I roll around in an attempt to move some of the covers off me, and wince slightly as the slight discomfort in my pussy. What happened? I’m a little sore down there, but decide to ignore it. Then, I try to get myself out of bed again but I’m… stuck. I try to sit up, but to no avail. I finally turn my head to one side and have to immediately stifle my cry of surprise.
What the hell is Matt Harrison doing in my bed?
Not just in my bed, no. The brawny, handsome man is practically on top of me, his heavy body pressed into mine. Beneath the sheets, I can feel our legs completely entangled into one another’s, and I actually like how it feels.
I let my gaze shift from Matt’s sleeping face to his strong arms. Oh my god, he’s shirtless, I nearly squeal out loud. One of his broad, tan arms is wrapped around me, and his hand is resting gently on my left boob. My entire body is curled into his, and I feel a thrill of delight at the situation.
No wonder I’m so warm.
I squirm around a little, in an attempt to break myself free of Matt’s strong embrace, but that only seems to make him hold on tighter. I quickly feel myself being pulled even closer against his broad chest, and for a second, I’m too caught up in the thrill of the moment to care about why he’s in my bed in the first place.
As if in response to my own torrid thoughts, Matt’s hand – the one cupping my boob – seems to stroke my nipple ever so slightly. I can’t help it but arch into his warm body, tantalized by the sensation.
No, no, stop Cora! I chastise myself. Determined to stop thinking of my almost father-in-law in such a sexual way, I attempt to untangle myself from our human knot.
Again, I try to pull myself away from Matt, but he seems to resist just like before. Only this time he pulls my whole body closer, and my ass presses tightly against his manhood. His cock feels oddly firm for a sleeping man and I blush at my own observation. His errant hand again finds my taut nipple and strokes it through my flimsy bra.
I can’t help myself and I lean into the caress, my backside pressing firmly against Matt’s hard body, while his hand squeezes my breast. I hear him moan a little, and I am suddenly embarrassed by my own provocativeness.
Obviously, he’s having a naughty dream about someone, so that’s why he’s doing this. After all, he’s asleep.
As if in response to my thought, Matt buries his face in my hair and lets out a contented sigh.
Determined to put some distance between myself and the attractive man, I slowly try to wriggle free of his tight hold, but it’s not an easy battle.
For every one of my attempts to create space between me and the slumbering Adonis, his body seems to have other plans.
Gingerly, I lift his hand from my full breast, but just as quickly the offending limb moves to my stomach, Matt’s fingers resting dangerously close to my womanhood.
I try to untangle a leg so as to slip out that way, but then Matt’s newly released leg splays across my hips, pinning me neatly to the bed.
Next, I try to free his face from my mess of hair, but just as soon as I’ve scooped my mane into a neat pile away from Matt, he nestles in until his now-free face can rest against the nape of my bare neck.
After a few moments, I give up, held down by the powerful sleeping man.
I let my mind wander for a few moments, tired from my battle to escape the bed.
What is Matt even doing here? I ask myself again. Why didn’t he sleep elsewhere? There are plenty of bedrooms in the cabin.
Well I guess it’s a good thing he showed up when he did, I shudder a little, despite the heat emanating off the sexy man beside me. I have no idea how I’m going to tell my parents about the fire, much less how in the world I’m going to thank Matt for literally saving my life.
The fire, oh god. I’m terrified to see what damage there may be, and I decide to avoid that reality check for just another moment.
The fire had been terrifying and I feel like a complete fool for having accidentally starting it. Matt sure thinks I am, I cringe at the thought.
The muscular, chiseled man currently lying next to me had been somewhat scary in his rage last night, and I grimace. I know I deserved to be scolded but it’s not like I invited him here in the first place!
Suddenly, I feel some of my own pride returning, thinking about how condescending Matt had sounded last night when he yelled at me about the lighter fluid. Yes, the whole thing is my fault, I admit, but it’s not like he can just barge in here and yell at me. He made me feel like a petulant child.
“Oh,” I say softly aloud. I was like a child, not reading instructions and acting scared over a little rain.
Outside the window, thunder seems to roar in response. Okay, not just a little rain, but still, I was stupid. Heavy rain starts to fall again, and I shiver. I want to snuggle into Matt, to forget about fires and feelings and ex fiancés, but I can’t give in.
I need to get out of this bed.
Swiftly but softly, I pull my whole body at once from Matt’s strong hold and stand up next to the bed. Instinctively, I shudder against the frigid morning air, my whole body quickly growing cold without without his warmth beside me.
I look down at his sleeping figure. Matt is forty-five years old, but he’s no flabby couch potato. I take a moment to admire his shirtless form.
His whole body is a deep, natural bronze, and it’s obvious from his muscular physique that the man works out. Matt’s chest muscles are deeply defined, and his shoulders look even broader without a shirt to cover them. My eyes drift lower to his taut abs, and rest for just a moment on the trickle of hair that starts on his firm stomach and extends low toward his manhood. To my relief and disappointment, Matt is still wearing his pants from the night before, so my ogling comes to a stop.
Wow, he’s hot.
I shake my head at my bold thought and even bolder gawking.
He’s hot, he saved your life, and he’s your ex-fiancé’s dad.
Quietly, I make my way to the closet and grab some sweatpants and a sweater to slip over my shivering naked body. Just as silently, I tiptoe out of the room, determined to leave the sleeping man and my taboo thoughts behind me in the bedroom.
Slowly, so as not to make a sound on the creaky wooden floorboards, I head downstairs to survey the fire damage and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do next, but the sight in the living room is humbling.
Even in the greyish, early morning light, I can tell that the fire
ravaged the small cabin. The couch, chairs, and walls are covered in ash and soot, and deep burn marks scar the rug and floor.
Taking in the bleak image in front of me, I can’t help but get teary-eyed. My family’s cabin, so many memories, stories. It’s all ruined.
Determined not to cry, I turn away from the gloomy living room and head to the kitchen to make some coffee.
As I scoop the pre-ground coffee beans into the filter, my mind wanders back to the man sleeping upstairs. Mindlessly, I fill up the coffee pot with water and pour it into the maker.
What is he even doing here? I ask myself as I switch on the machine. Why did he come all this way?
I’m desperate to get rid of Matt, I tell myself sternly. I wanted time away from my life back in Blue Mountain, especially the drama surrounding my engagement.
But instead it just followed me up the mountain in the form of Marky’s dad.
I shake my head slowly. And yet that’s not the real reason I want Matt gone. No, the problem is, I liked waking up in his arms, pressed against his hot, muscular body. I wanted to run my hands up and down his firm chest, and to have him stroke me more through my thin bra.
Holy shit. I cannot keep thinking like this!
I grimace as I watch the coffee brew.
I want to know why Matt’s here, and then I want him to leave.
Telling myself that my feelings for Matt and about the situation are resolved, I pull out a coffee mug from the cupboard. And for the next several minutes, I do my best and try to stop imagining what would have happened if I’d stayed in bed with Matt instead of coming downstairs.
12