Mister Distraction (Distraction #2)

Home > Other > Mister Distraction (Distraction #2) > Page 18
Mister Distraction (Distraction #2) Page 18

by Stephanie Jean


  “Do you need a little private time?” I thought I might love her mouth the most. Her arms fell to her side and I was granted a vision of her very tight nipples, her tiny erections to match my much larger one.

  I fondled my thick cock, demonstrating my practiced expertise. I could see her trying to fight it, but the sassiness fell away, and she lunged forward only inches in front of me, and I glanced into her smoky, passion-filled eyes before she touched me. I groaned at first contact, and felt my muscles ripple as her hands descended. I fisted my hands, preventing myself from touching her aggressively. I could tell she was exploring. This was her first time with a man in a shower, and I was the lucky recipient of her investigation. Her tongue was now taking the place of her fingers, starting at my shoulder and continuing on the journey south.

  I was unprepared when she fell to her knees and began massaging my inner thighs. My legs felt slightly off balance when she detached my hand from my achy cock. I grabbed the wall of the shower to steady myself. The air in my lungs was somehow depleted of oxygen, and I couldn’t get enough. I looked down, and my heart started racing at the sight before me. Her full, plump lips covered the shaft of my eager cock, and her hand disappeared to fondle my sac. Oh fuck! My restraint snapped, and I grabbed her hair with fists. She didn’t relent, her appetite growing and my eyes locking on the bobbing head that was surrounding my grateful penis. Her tongue was wet, hot, and very greedy, and if I didn’t know better, I would think she had her own sexual expertise. It hit me like a brick, the sudden need to be buried deep inside her again when I came. I yanked on her hair, tugging and pulling, just hard enough to get her attention. If I jerked any harder, I feared I would actually pull her hair out.

  “Katarina, you need to stop…ah shit. I don’t want this to be just about me.” She was an animal. Her sucking was almost painful. I moved toward the wall, trying to get her to break her suction or her trance on me, but it only cornered me. She wrapped her hands around my ass and dug her nails into my flesh. I glanced down, feeling the normal stirrings of my orgasm, knowing it was just seconds away. Her mouth slurping and taking me deeply, I had to be going down her throat. She kept repeating the rhythm and stuffing my long cock down her throat. I lost all conscious thought and rocked my hips one more time, shooting my semen into her welcoming mouth. She swallowed my trace and it was… freeing.

  I eased her up my body with my hands in her hair. She was a beauty. There was more come this time, and it was thick and creamy, drizzling all down her body. Her smile was full of victory.

  “What was that?” Her answer didn’t matter. Her response was priceless; it was mixture of confusion and lust. I trailed my sperm all over her wet body. I was deflecting the water, outlining her nipples slowly, and it was the fucking sexiest sight I had ever seen. A part of me was on her most delicate parts, and I craved the same hot, creamy part of me in every orifice of her tiny body. Her head tipped back and I heard a needy moan. Her eyes shifted back to mine, and she was stunned again.

  “I don’t know.” I adored that surprised look. I swiped my come-covered finger directly from her erect nipple to her slightly open mouth, and I eased it in. Her eyes scanned mine for direction before her lips clamped down around my finger, just like they did around my cock, and she sucked it clean. Fuck. My heart felt like someone was squeezing the life out of it. I growled in appreciation and grabbed my aching chest.

  “You are amazing. To think if I would have talked with you sooner, we could have been doing this the whole time.” I shifted her under the water and did my best to lather her body with soap. It felt right to take care of her. I leaned in to whisper in her ear, “So fucking perfect. I have never seen or felt anything so fucking perfect.” Words were spilling from my lips incoherently as I continued to rub my hands over her smooth, hot body. The only thought continuing to repeat in my head was that she was mine. The gold mine that stood before me was all mine.

  My body’s powerful impulse wanted to make it official. “The desire to come deep inside you is so strong, I almost can’t control it. Katarina, you should get on birth control pills right away. I know how you feel about being pregnant, and I want to respect that.” Why did the thought of her not taking the pill excite me so much? Her skin tasted soft and clean, and her scent made me want to breed with her right here, no more waiting. I licked her neck, the crook in-between her neck and shoulder. It was the spot holding her strongest scent. If she said it was okay not to use a rubber now, I would happily oblige.

  “Fuck, babe, I am hard all over again.” Her mouth fell open at my words, and I took that as an invitation. Damn. She was the best kisser. It was like her lips were made for that one purpose. She gave me what I longed for, moaning as I passionately possessed her mouth. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore pleasure, she wrapped her legs around my hips, relinquishing control. It was her way of telling me to have my way with her. The rim of her dripping pussy rested on the head of my cock. I gripped her hips roughly as she began wiggling. I didn’t even know my body held the restraint it did, because the craving to impale her bare was so strong. It was like a form of survival, and if I didn’t do it I would die. I froze and inhaled deeply. My hands flicked out to turn the spraying water off, and I stepped out of the shower with her legs clenched tightly around me and her moaning in my ear.

  “You are a dangerous girl.” I sat her on the bathroom counter, reached over and snatched the towel from the rack, and dried her from top to feet. My heart was thundering in my chest again. I wasn’t sure what was more painful, my achy heart or my impatient cock. I quickly toweled myself off and wrapped the damp cloth around my waist, picking her up and slinging her over my shoulder in one surprisingly smooth move. Her giggling had my penis gyrating to the melody of it.

  “I can walk; you don’t have to carry me like a sack of potatoes.” Ah shit, the food! I flung her onto the bed and sprinted to the kitchen, losing my towel in the process.

  “I’ll be right back; don’t go anywhere,” I yelled as I ran down the stairs. Her loud complaining moan almost made me say ‘fuck it’, but I recognized which head was actually thinking.

  The oven timer was buzzing as I entered the kitchen. I rifled through the drawer, grabbed a mitt, and removed the boiling lasagna from the oven. I retrieved my towel as I bolted back up the stairs.

  The room was empty when my jogging legs came to a halt. I checked under the bed first, and bypassed the closet on the way to the bathroom. A fully-dressed Katarina stood before me, her eyes laced with regret. It was that look alone that made me instantly pissed.

  “What are you doing?” It was one of my stupider questions, but I wanted to curse and throw things, so stupid questions seemed like the better option.

  “I need to go. I lose all control around you. I don’t know what I am even doing here.” So we’re back to that. Why was she here? Seriously?

  “I need to buy handcuffs. Every time I leave and come back, you want to flee. I am trying to understand why. I can tell you like me. In fact, I think you probably like me a lot more than you’re willing to admit. It drives me crazy that you could leave after what we just did.” My scared rabbit was back, and I was over it. She stood up slowly, too chicken to even look at me.

  “I can’t keep you here, so fine, leave.” My body moved back, allowing hers to go by. My wet towel unraveled around my waist, and I tossed it across the bathtub before I entered the closet.

  My journey downstairs was more of a tantrum, tossing things and stubbing my toe. I knocked over the grocery bag on the counter, causing the strawberry jam to fall on the hardwood floor. Pieces of glass shattered everywhere. Shit! I grabbed a whole roll of paper towels and went to work cleaning it up. I treaded barefoot in the kitchen all the time, so I had to be careful to retrieve all the glass. Then I slammed the French bread on the counter and carved it down the center. I mashed hard butter into the center and tossed it into the oven. Ugh. She pissed me off. I was done indulging in her shy, embarrassed, and ashamed attitud
e. I wasn’t fifteen anymore, and this wasn’t my first rodeo.

  I swiped the bread from the oven, and aggressively sliced it into pieces. When I was finished, it definitely looked like the bread lost. It was completely ripped into shreds. I cut myself a large serving of lasagna, grabbed a few pieces of bread, and trudged to the stools behind the counter to eat.

  My body stiffened when I heard Katarina padding into the kitchen. Her hair was sopping wet, reminding me of our shower. She didn’t look at me, just continued to the cupboard. I was tired, and ultimately held no sympathy for her changing moods. I focused on my food and completely ignored her. I used to be really good at blocking infuriating women out. She settled on the other side of the same counter. Her side was lower than mine, and she quietly started eating. I heard the sound of the fork hitting the plate, and then I heard something else. She was humming. WTF. The sound made my dick hard again. I glanced at her and watched her put the small bite into her mouth, chew, and then close her eyes, tilting her head back slightly to hum. The tempting sound vibrated through me. It was as if her mouth was on my body. I couldn’t figure out if this was a sick game, a way for her to manipulate me, but she was in her own bubble again, just frickin’ humming. She glanced at me, half of her mouth lifting in the process.

  “It’s very yummy.” Who uses that word? Yummy? What does it even mean? I wondered if I waited long enough if she would say it again, because I felt yummy things when she said it. She busied herself in the kitchen, and I was curious what her next move would be.

  “So, what time do we leave? How about if I am ready in forty minutes? If you still want to go out, then I’ll be ready. If not, and you leave without me, then I will figure something else out.” Holy shit, she wanted to go out. She disappeared upstairs and I sat there stunned, fighting the urge to run after her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I got ready in minutes, and paced for the next thirty or so. I wanted to watch her get ready. I knew that wasn’t normal, but I liked to watch the whole process. So many secrets are revealed when a woman gets ready: the panties, or lack thereof, the lacy bra, the nakedness before the tight dress. My pacing picked up as my thoughts became more X-rated. I had to remind myself I was still mad with her. I just couldn’t remember why. I would picture her legs and her boobs, and my memory became cloudy. What happened to the opposite side of the magnet theory?

  Katarina appeared at the top of the stairs and descended slowly towards me. Her eyes focused on the steps in front of her. I took a moment to let my eyes just drink her in. She was a vision in a tight black dress that stopped at top of her thighs, with her boobs spilling out of the top. This was going to be a night of torture. She shifted her hips as she took each step. Her heels had to be four, maybe five inches tall. This girl was dressed for battle. She was dressed for distraction, and I would say she nailed it. I glanced away when she hit the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t want her to see the way she affected me. I moved quickly towards the front door instead. The sound of her clicking heels behind me drove me insane with the desire to fuck her. She stopped close to me, and I caught her delicious scent.

  “Can you hold these for me? I don’t want to carry a purse.” She handed me a tube of cherry red lipstick, and a Washington driver’s license issued to Katarina Josephine Covington, DOB: 04-27. I stuffed the items in the pocket of my dress pants.

  “We could take my car if you want?” Nope. That brought my need to be in control again to the forefront.

  I led her to the Jeep, trying to act indifferent to the tension growing between us. I’m a gentleman, I reminded myself, as I opened the passenger door. She didn’t protest; instead, she just studied the door, planning the best way to get in. She was so independent too, never glancing at me for help. I stepped in closer to relieve her of her misery, when her hands slid down to the bottom of her mini dress and she shimmied it up higher, exposing her black, lacy panties. She didn’t stop there. She bent over slowly, displaying the rounded globes of her ass. Then she balanced on one leg and took her heel off. I rolled my head on my shoulders and inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself. I could no longer stand to watch her. I pressed my stomach against her back and began kissing her neck, tasting the crook with my tongue. I had to know if she felt the frenzy I felt. My hand eased under her panties and she shivered. Her body was frozen, bent over for my inspection. I circled the very wet entrance before gliding my finger all the way inside her. She clenched her muscles tightly around my finger and moaned. I didn’t understand her at all. First, I thought she was just shy and intimidated by me. Then, I thought she was private and reserved. But out here in the open, she had her legs slightly spread, my finger buried inside her, and she was close to orgasming. I think my princess…thinks too much.

  “You are so wet for me. I love that. You feel so smooth down here.” I held her pussy in my hand. Her bare skin was as soft as suede. “I love that,” I repeated. I examined her as I leaned over her body and tugged at the hairclip, causing her hair to fall out of its loose bun and tumble down her back.

  “I like your hair down. Leave it like this.” If she was going to think all night, it was going to be me on her mind. I would make sure of it. I finger-fucked her for a while, taking enjoyment in every hum and moan. I began twisting my wrist and drilling into her, her whole body taking what I was giving. Good girl.

  “I was a dancer…I had the hair…removed.” Her voice was weak, squeaking out as my fingers impaled her. I slowed down, still pumping her, but now adding small circles around her clit. She was on fire and my hand was drenched.

  I tortured her a little, and held my fingers inside her just enough that she would have to move against my hand to get any sensation. And when she wiggled her tight little ass closer to me, I withdrew.

  “You go home with me tonight. Only me.” I lifted her and set her carefully in the seat. I closed the door, imagining her stunned and pissed off face and I laughed. It was empowering to have something she wanted, and she wanted it badly.

  I raced down the street, but not out of anger. I was happy and eager to show off my princess. The radio blared and I couldn’t help but sing along. I glanced at her a couple times, and she just stared out the window. I wished that I could read her thoughts. I wondered how she was torturing me in her mind.

  The sports bar was filling up fast, the crowds of people circling the parking lot. I jumped out after I parked, excited to face my angry princess. I liked her a little edgy. When I opened her door, she didn’t disappoint me. I flashed her my panty-dropping smile that was reserved for her, and she flashed me something resembling a smile, more of a ‘fuck you, get lost’ kind of a smile. I picked her up at the waist, and gently eased her down my body so she could feel every inch of my hardness, all for her.

  “Are you ready?” She lightened her smile and did a cute little nod. This must have been her poker face, because she appeared polished with this new smile. I ran a light, caressing finger over her face, and placed a lock of beautiful black hair behind her ear. Her practiced, polished smile twitched, and she yanked on the hair I just touched, tossing it defiantly in her face. So defiantly, I almost laughed.

  “I want it right here.” This was her wildly sassy side. Damn. She was truly breathtaking like this.

  “I am well aware of how much you want it.” Her tiny mouth with bright red lips fell open, and I thought I heard a huff. I turned and made my way to the front entrance of the bar, just to deepen her frustration towards me.

  Dave and his girl were already seated at a tall table with another couple when we approached. I positioned Katarina’s stool right next to mine. She seemed to be observing the variety of things going on in the large sports bar. Her eyes flicked from the large TVs surrounding the place, to the basketball shooting machines in the back, to the pool tables lined up in the middle. She was taking in everything, amazed, like it was the first time she had ever seen so many stimulating objects at once. I introduced her to Dave and Sofia, and then Stewart and Amy, but she put on her
polished face and checked out. I joined in the conversation about the fights and ordered a drink for Katarina, and a beer for myself. I placed my hand on her thigh so she would have a constant reminder of why she was here.

  Stewart was Dave’s friend, and I found him to be a bit of a whipped piece of ass. He talked mainly of his wife and unborn child, even going so far as to show me sonogram pictures. When his wife Amy left to go to the bathroom, he turned towards Sofia and asked, “So what should I get her for a push gift?”

  Dave caught my eye immediately, and we exchanged words with our eyes. He pleaded with me not to talk, and I challenged him with a glare that said, ‘It’s going to happen, and I am sorry your friend is such a pussy-whipped fool.’

  “So, Stewie,” I left Dave’s eyes and focused my attention on Stewart, “what exactly is a push gift?”

  “It’s the new thing when your wife delivers a baby.” WTF. I laughed; I had to. I felt Dave attempting to kick me under the table.

  “So, kind of like a ‘sorry for giving you hemorrhoids and saggy boobs’ gift?” He didn’t laugh, but Dave burst out, like it physical hurt him to hold it in. “I mean, can you really ever apologize for that? With a gift, I mean?” Stewart just glared at me, which I found amusing.

  “You just wait until you’re married and your wife bears your children. I promise, you will feel the same way.” I eyed him like he was full of shit, and shot a glance at Dave, giving him the same unspoken words as always, ‘He is such a tool.’

 

‹ Prev