Sweet girl

Home > Other > Sweet girl > Page 11
Sweet girl Page 11

by Quell T Fox


  I need him.

  The door downstairs opens and closes and I get myself propped up on the bed, my back leaning against the headboard. I should probably have a conversation with Michael about what’s going on here. I don’t want to be an asshole to him, he is a great guy, but we need to talk about what this is. Sex. Nothing more. He’s a distraction. A test. The final test. The one I’m using as a last chance to kick my Jonathan habit. And so far… it’s not doing a damn thing to keep him from my mind.

  My bedroom door opens and I’m already prepared with a smile on my face, which falls just as quickly when I see who it is.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, getting to my feet. He stalks towards me, getting right in my space.

  “Came to make sure you don’t forget who owns you.” Jonathan grips my chin, his lips smashing into mine. He drives his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with need. I kiss him back, my mind going fuzzy, barely able to register what is happening. My body aches with want for him, especially once I feel him growing hard in his pants.

  I pull back, coming to my senses. “You can’t be here. I have someone coming over.” My eyes dart to the door, indecision roaring in my head. Jonathan kissed me. He’s here, in my room. I could… I could do so many things to him right now, but Michael is on his way. He will be here any minute.

  He looks at me with hooded eyes and a smirk. “Oh, I know.”

  “You have to leave,” I plead. I can’t imagine what he would think if he walked in to see my stepdad with a rock hard boner, standing inches from me in my bedroom. It would be the talk of the town. “He would not be okay with this.”

  At least, I don’t think he will be.

  Part of me, though, wants Jonathan to stay. Wants Michael to walk in and see us. It’s the easy way out, really. The cowardly way. Like ripping the band-aid off. I wouldn’t have to worry about telling anyone because he’d do it for us. And that would be it… simple.

  “Charlotte, Charlotte…” he says sweetly, softly, taking a few steps to the side. “He won’t even know I’m here.”

  The downstairs door opens and shuts as I open my mouth to say something.

  Jonathan opens my foldable closet doors and steps inside. He will definitely be able to see us through the slats but we won’t be able to see him, not as long as the lights stay off in there and he doesn’t move. I know this from all the times I hid in there as a child, when my mom couldn’t find me.

  “Be a good girl and put on a show for me.” His voice is low, husky as he shuts the door. Fuck… why do I like it when he orders me around like that? Everything I am is against it, against being told what to do. Then again, everything I am just goes right out the window when it comes to Jonathan.

  My eyes are wide, I don’t know what to do. This is… more than I was expecting to handle.

  Michael steps right in, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey,” he says. I turn to him and put on a smile as best I can. “You okay?” he asks, frowning and looking around the room as if he can sense something is wrong.

  “What? Yeah.” I avoid looking at the closet at all costs. My stomach is filled with nerves, my hands trembling. Knowing I was watched is one thing. Knowing someone is watching me on camera while I touch myself or fuck someone is bearable. But fucking Michael with Jonathan only a few feet away, and without his knowledge?

  Am I crossing boundaries here?

  Yeah, I most definitely am. But… I can’t deny Jonathan.

  Michael slides his arms around my waist, bending down to run his lips and tongue along my neck. I turn my head, looking towards the closet doors. I can feel his eyes on me. I take a deep breath, telling myself that I can do this. Why not?

  It’s just a game after all.

  Chapter 20

  Jonathan

  I close myself into her closet, dick already hard from just the thought of watching her so closely. I don’t know what it is about her and why she drives me this wild, but fuck, do I love it.

  I’m not one of those sick fuck’s that’s attracted to kids. She was seventeen when I first found her watching me, when I first decided to play this little game. I have no idea how long she had been watching me, but either way, I’m glad I caught her.

  Now that she’s back and I’m single, the real games have begun. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a struggle to not slam her against the wall and fuck her until tomorrow every time I see her. Every single time she gives me that sassy attitude, or chews on her lip. But I’m a patient man, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had any pussy. And when I finally have her, it’s going to be pure fucking bliss.

  No matter how much she plays, how much she teases, how much she acts like she doesn’t want it, I know she does.

  I know she belongs to me.

  And so does she.

  Fate isn’t something I believe in, not really anyway. She makes me question that belief though. Because in every single way that I want to own her—mouth, pussy, ass—I also want to cherish her, make her happy.

  It’s like her mother was the bronze trophy, but having Charlotte is fucking gold. The upgrade. The best fucking out there.

  That long brown hair, her dark eyes, and those perfectly shaped lips that are softer than I could have ever imagined… I could have stood there and kissed her until the sun came up tomorrow morning. But I needed more, needed this.

  I keep quiet, steadying my breath as Michael walks in. Charlotte looks nervous and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.

  Go ahead, sweet girl. Don’t be afraid.

  Daddy wants to watch.

  As if she can read my thoughts, she loosens up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His hands go right to her waist, sliding down and gripping her ass.

  My fucking ass.

  The rage builds within me, making me almost shake.

  But I like it. I enjoy it. Fucking thrive on it.

  My cock is harder than it’s ever been.

  I want this girl, yet I want to watch someone else fuck her… how does that make sense?

  Because she’s thinking of me. Because he doesn’t matter. He is just a pawn, a tool, a fucking toy. I’m the real thing. And when she finally gets it, she’s never going to leave.

  My Charlotte continues to take control of the situation, leading him towards the bed, only she doesn’t lead him towards the bottom, the place she fucked him last time. Instead, she guides him around to the side. So when she straddles his hips and rides his cock, it’ll be eyes on me.

  What a naughty fucking girl you are.

  My cock strains against my pants and I fight with myself to not pull it out. Each time I watch her it gets harder and harder to control myself. I jerk off more now than I think I ever have in my life. I can’t get this girl out of my head. Those soft moans, the quiet whimpers, the way her mouth falls open and her eyes screw shut as she comes. It’s fucking Heaven.

  She pulls her shirt off over her head, her eyes staring forward, right at me. She bites on that full bottom lip, and my cock throbs. I smile to myself, knowing she’s enjoying this as much as I am. She likes to put on a show, and I like to watch.

  Like I said, fucking perfect.

  When they’re both undressed and she’s straddling his hips, it’s even harder to control my breathing. My cock pulsing so much that I fear I’ll come in my pants. That’s for fucking pussies, I think.

  I’m going to stand here and I’m going to watch her take what she wants from him. I’ll watch him get her off. I’ll worry about myself later.

  I’ll give the kid some credit though, he does seem to know what he’s doing. I have no idea how much experience she has with sex, but I can tell he’s decent. Not as good as me, but decent. He’s made her come before and it hasn’t taken all that long. He isn’t selfish either. He enjoys watching her like I do. Though I doubt he’s anywhere near my level. If I popped out of this closet, he’d be pissed and go running for the hills. No way he would stay for my pleasure. And I c
an’t blame the guy, I can barely wrap my head around what the hell I’m doing here.

  I keep my eyes trained on Charlotte as her hips begin to move, her hands sliding up her soft abs, reaching her perfect tits. She squeezes, pinching at her nipples as she throws her head back, letting out quiet moans.

  I know she’s thinking of me and it drives me fucking wild. When her hips begin to move faster, I can tell she’s going to come soon.

  That’s it, baby, come for me.

  For me.

  I reach for my cock, squeezing it through my jeans with an all too tight grip. It fucking hurts but I need to keep it under control. If I’m too gentle, I’ll fucking explode. I will not come in her closet like this.

  I grind my teeth, my eyes focused on her.

  “Oh, fuck. I’m going to come,” she cries. Her eyes shoot towards me, her mouth drops open and her body starts to convulse as she comes around another man’s dick.

  I should be angry. I should be fucking furious. Instead, I’m more excited than I have ever been in my life.

  Stroking my cock through my pants, I tell myself I’ve earned this, that I deserve to come after holding it in for so long, but I pull away, having a much better plan in place. It takes every ounce of control I have to hold back the orgasm threatening me.

  Charlotte and her boy toy lie there together for a short while before she asks him out for dinner tomorrow night.

  Dinner? I didn’t agree to her having fucking dinner with anyone, I agreed to her riding his cock.

  This just won’t do.

  Chapter 21

  Charlotte

  That was hot.

  That was one of the most erotic things I have ever done. Who would have thought someone watching you could be such a turn on?

  The worst part was trying to get Michael out of my room when we were done because I wasn’t sure what Jonathan would do and I don’t want him to necessarily be an asshole to Michael.

  We make plans for dinner tomorrow night, knowing I need to talk to him and lay shit out. Let him know how it is between us. After giving him some excuse about needing to get to bed because I have something to do early tomorrow morning, I walk him to the front door and watch as he drives off. I take a quick glance around and don’t see Jonathan’s car anywhere…

  I close and lock the door, rushing back up to my room, my heart pounding the whole way. Going straight to my closet, I pull open the doors to find Jonathan leaning against the wall in front of him, his hand pressed flat against it, the muscles in his arm bulging, the veins popping. His other hand is stroking his swollen, leaking cock. I let out a gasp, my insides heating at how swollen and needy his dick looks. He smirks up at me when he sees me.

  “You were such a good girl,” he says, his voice strained. He jerks his head towards the floor. “Get on your knees.” All the air leaves my lungs. Is this really happening? “Now, Charlotte.” He leaves no room for me to argue.

  I can hear in his voice that he isn’t joking, so I drop to my knees. The second I do, he lets out a deep, pained groan, his fingers tangling in my hair and pulling me forward. Hot ropes of cum pump out, hitting my lips because I can’t open my mouth fast enough. The rest coats the back of my throat, my tongue, and all around my mouth. I swallow down what I can, but it’s dripping down my chin by the time he’s done. His head falls back and he takes in a deep breath before he tucks himself back in his pants and kneels down. “So fucking beautiful.” His thumb brushes over my lip before bringing it to his mouth, tasting his own essence. “All for you, baby, don’t waste it.”

  I sit there, a sweating mess, trying to catch my breath as Jonathan leaves my room and then the house. His cum is still dripping down my face, his flavor a memory on my tongue. I run it along my lips, taking in every ounce of him that I can find before getting up and going into the shower.

  Charlotte: 1

  Jonathan: 2

  And I'm not even made that I'm losing.

  “Charlie, come help me, will you?”

  Mom’s voice sounds from downstairs and I head down after grabbing my things to see what she needs help with. She’s filling a picnic basket—an actual wicker picnic basket—with small containers.

  “What’s all this?” I ask, taking in the scene before me.

  There is fruit packed together, bottles of water, and sandwiches that are cut into triangles.

  Who the hell did this?

  “Lunch,” she says with a smile.

  It’s Saturday afternoon and we have plans for me to meet her new boyfriend and his daughter. She said lunch, not a fucking picnic.

  “Since when do you make lunch?”

  My whole life has been filled with fast foods and quick meals, like mac and cheese, and cereal. Mom was always so busy. She kept me fed and taken care of, but she never went above and beyond. Not like this.

  “I’ve always made lunch, Charlie, don’t be like that.”

  I take a deep breath, pushing away the jealousy that I feel rising up. It’s not worth it. I grew up happy, I’ve always been understanding of my mother and how she feels. I’ve accepted that she wasn’t a kid person and never really wanted me. I get it. It’s not for everyone.

  But why this? Why now? What’s so special about this guy and his daughter? I mean, I want to be happy for her, but there are some parts of me turning green with jealousy over here.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asks, shoving the basket towards me. I put on a smile and take it while nodding. “Great!”

  She looks happy, truly happy. So I push this unnecessary feeling away and remember she’s doing this for herself. I fully believe that people are allowed to be selfish in some ways. It’s their life, they only have one. You have to live it for yourself and not for anyone else.

  I’m also trying to stay in her good graces because I need something to use when she finds out about Jonathan and I.

  And something tells me she is going to find out. I just hope it isn’t anytime soon.

  The memory of last night pops into my head. The sweet and saltiness of him can still be tasted on my tongue. The sounds he made while he came will be etched into my memory for ever.

  I step outside and the heat hits me. Ugh. It’s hot and sticky and the air is thick and humid. I hate when the weather is like this. I can feel the film of sweat on my skin already.

  Thankfully the car is already started and cool inside once I get in.

  “We’re meeting them there.”

  “Where is there?”

  “Barnes Park, about half hour from here.”

  I rest my head back and get lost in thoughts of last night. Everything feels like a dream. Things I have fantasized about for years are now happening. It’s hard to process. What is going to come of this? It’s already been a few weeks since I’ve been here, I don’t have forever. I’ll be going back to school at the end of August, and where does that leave us? How long is this game going to last?

  Will he forget about me when I leave? A heavy weight sits in my chest when I think of him not caring that I’ve gone…

  “Charlie?” My mother’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I shoot my eyes open and look in her direction. She smiles. “Were you sleeping?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. “Maybe.” I shrug, turning my head forward once again.

  She laughs. “I asked if there was anything you wanted to know about Philip before we get there?” Her voice is light and she’s trying to play nice, trying to help me understand whatever the hell is going on here.

  “Uh, I don’t know. What does he do for work?” I ask the first thing that comes to mind because I truthfully don’t care about this guy.

  “He’s a doctor.”

  Of course he is. This isn’t a surprise. All those double shifts and late nights.

  “You met him at the hospital then?”

  “He was on call one night, about a year ago.” I whip my head in her direction.

  “Why didn’t you break up with Jonathan firs
t?” The more she talks about Philip the more defensive I feel towards Jonathan. My chest tightens.

  “It’s… complicated.” Her hands grip the steering wheel and her knuckles pale.

  “No, mom, it isn’t.”

  But she doesn’t respond, and I guess it isn’t really needed. The rest of the car ride is silent. I do my best to keep my feelings in check, knowing I shouldn’t be upset about any of this. I think I’m disappointed in her more than anything. As far as I know, my mother has always done the right thing… I just never expected her to cheat on someone. Especially someone she’d been with for so long. I guess I’m also a little upset she didn’t tell me about this sooner. She met this guy a year ago… a whole year! And she didn’t tell me?

  It all works in my favor, but I am sad for Jonathan. And now I’m angry at my mother for acting like someone she isn’t. Preparing lunch, going to the park for a picnic, cheating… this is not who my mother is.

  It’s going to be a fun afternoon.

  Chapter 22

  Charlotte

  We pull up to a beautiful park. One I haven’t been to before. It’s large, green, and sits right on a lake. Any other day, I think I’d enjoy coming here. Today, I’m not feeling it.

  Mom parks her car on the side of a black SUV. “Oh, good. He’s already here.” She’s smiling so big it reaches her eyes.

  “Fucking fantastic,” I mumble to myself.

  I get out of the car and bring the picnic basket with me. Following Mom down a small hill, I spot a man and a small girl not too far away, sitting on a plaid blanket.

  So, this is serious then? We’re having a full on fucking picnic?

  I roll my eyes as we make our way to them, my mother way ahead of me, moving quicker than I’ve ever seen her move before.

  “Allison!” the little girl shouts, getting up from her spot and rushing towards my mother. She wraps her arms around her waist and hugs her tightly, my mother smiles a smile that I haven’t seen in years.

 

‹ Prev