Single Dad's Christmas Present: A Dad's Best Friend Romance

by Amy Brent

  I’d just bragged about my ability to resist temptation to Tom. I doubt he would have taken me seriously had he known that Courtney had given me a blowjob in Goldie’s restroom.

  I thought about that dark road again, the one I had stumbled down so many times before.

  I closed my eyes, imagining it in my mind.

  I saw Courtney Shaw standing in the middle of the dark road, holding out her hands, beckoning me to come along.

  CHAPTER TEN: Courtney

  Logan was sitting at his desk fiddling with his phone when I walked in and took my usual seat on the third row.

  He glanced up for a moment as I strolled in, but quickly looked back down at his phone, as if I was just another student and not the girl who’d sucked his cock in the restroom of a dive bar two nights before.

  I wasn’t terribly disappointed because I wasn’t sure what I thought was going to happen when we saw each other this morning.

  I didn’t expect him to do a happy dance when he saw me.

  But I didn’t expect to be ignored either.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to act myself.

  Should I be all cold and aloof?

  Should I be all cute and flirtatious?

  Should we pretend not to know each other so the rest of the room doesn’t surmise what happened between us?

  Obviously, Logan was going for the “let’s pretend like nothing happened” option, so I figured I’d do the same. Once everyone had drifted in and taken their seats, he moved to the chalkboard and started class like he had every other day.

  Then, subtly, I noticed the change.

  I caught him glancing my way, even when he was addressing the questions of other students.

  It was like he knew I was there, watching him, longing for him, and he felt the need to steal a glance because he felt the same way.

  He couldn’t resist the urge to look at me; to imagine himself fucking me, having me in his arms, his big cock buried deep inside me.

  He was feeling the same needs and urges that I was, I was sure of it.

  I was sitting in a pool of my own juices, imagining his muscular body beneath the baggy clothes, watching his lips move as he spoke, his nostrils flutter as he breathed.

  I squeezed my thighs together and bit my lip.

  There was no turning back now.

  If I didn’t have Logan Clark inside me soon, I might just die.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: Logan

  I felt her watching me for the entire class. I did my best to ignore her, but it was no use. I knew she was there. I could feel her eyes on me. I imagined that I could hear breathing. I would have sworn that I noticed the tangy aroma of her juices wafting on the stale air in the room.

  I did my best to hold it together for the hour, and was relieved when I finally looked at the clock and saw that it was time for class to end.

  I dismissed the class, then sat down behind the desk and waited for the room to clear. I picked up my phone and pretended to fiddle with it. My mouth was dry. I licked my lips. I needed a drink. Maybe I’d run home between classes and grab one. Or two.

  “Professor Clark?”

  I glanced up to see her standing there, wearing a Golden State Bears t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans cut low on her hips. The jeans were so tight I could see the outline of her twat. Thank God, she was holding her books in front of her boobs.

  I swallowed the lump that had wedged in my throat and folded my hands together on the desk, doing my best to look as academic and uninterested as possible. I lifted my eyebrows at her.

  “Yes, Miss Shaw?”

  “I have a question about the finals,” she said, saying it loud enough so those still drifting from the room could hear. She turned and waited until we were alone, then gave me a smile and set the books on the desk. Her big boobs more than filled out the t-shirt. I could see the outline of her nipples. I subconsciously licked my lips.

  “I really just wanted to thank you for the other night,” she said, giving me a warm smile, as if she was thanking me for a lovely dinner. “And to let you know that my offer to continue the fun still stands. Anytime. Anywhere.”

  I rubbed my forehead to drive the thoughts of her lips around my cock out of my mind. I said, “Miss Shaw, look…”

  “Call me Courtney,” she said. She lowered herself into a chair and crossed her arms on the desk. She rested her boobs on her arms. Her nipples were more apparent now.

  “Courtney, look, as flattered as I am to even think that you might be interested in me, we can’t take this any farther. There are rules against fraternization between the staff and students.”

  “So it’s okay that you’re fucking most of the female professors,” she said thoughtfully, “but you can’t fuck a female student. Even one who would willingly let you do so.”

  I blinked at her for a minute. “Who said I was fucking anyone?”

  She shrugged. “Come on, Logan. Everybody knows you’re fucking the old ladies on staff. It’s not a big deal. I certainly won’t hold that against you. Actually, that makes it even more exciting for me. I can’t wait to see your face when you shove your big cock into a sweet, young, tight, soaked pussy.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “You’ll never want to fuck old Martha Warner or Sheila Denning again.”

  I was literally dumbfounded by her words and her knowledge of my extracurricular activities. I sat silent for a moment, waiting for my brain to come up with something to say that would convince her that she was wrong, but no snappy retorts came to mind. I cleared my throat and played innocent badly.

  “Um, I’m not sure where you got that information from, but I can assure you that it is patently untrue. I am not involved with anyone on staff here at Golden State.” Christ, I sounded like a bad defense lawyer.

  She cut her eyes at me. “So you didn’t fuck Dean Warner in the Ruby Tuesdays parking lot like everyone is saying? And you and Professor Denning don’t fuck at your house every time her husband Coach Denning is coaching away games?”

  I stammered a bit. “What? No, I mean, of course, it’s not true. And you should tell anyone who is spreading those kinds of malicious rumors that they can get in serious trouble for doing so.”

  “Relax, Logan, your little secrets are safe with me.”

  I blinked at her. “Fine. Thank you.”

  She clicked her tongue and shook her head, then leaned in and lowered her voice. I couldn’t help but steal a glance down the front of her shirt. I wanted to run my tongue down her round cleavage.

  She said, “This would be so much more fun if we were just honest with one another, don’t you think?”

  My eyes slowly drifted up to meet hers. I leaned into the desk and lowered my voice. I said, “Fine, I’ll be honest with you, Miss Shaw. It’s none of your business who I’m fucking because I’m not breaking any rules. I can’t afford to lose this job. I’m not willing to risk it, no matter how sweet, young, tight or soaked your pussy might be.”

  That made her smile, as if she’d just won a hand of cards.

  “I understand, Professor Clark,” she said with a sigh. She had her bag hanging over her shoulder. She reached inside it and brought out a plastic sandwich baggie. Inside the baggie, was a red thong. She tossed the bag on the desk and nodded at it.

  “I was wearing those while I sucked your cock,” she said, getting to her feet. “I soaked them through and through while I was sucking you. I thought you might enjoy them as much as I enjoyed you.”

  With that, she turned and sauntered out of the classroom. I watched the door for a moment, waiting to see if she was going to return. When she didn’t, I picked up the baggie and tugged it open. Immediately, the smell of her tangy juices wafted from the baggie. I held the baggie to my nose and closed my eyes to inhale deeply.

  The smell of her pussy ignited my senses.

  My cock twitched in my pants.

  I could taste her on my tongue

  I zipped the baggie shut, then put it in my briefcase.

  I glanced
at the clock. I had an hour before my next class.

  Time enough to run home for a drink or two.

  Time enough to lie on my bed with Courtney’s panties over my nose and mouth and my cock in my hand.

  Time enough to do to myself what I was now longing to do to her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE: Logan

  I had forgotten that I had walked to work. My place was only a few minutes away, but I would have to hurry if I was going to have time to have a drink and jack-off to Courtney’s thong.

  Wow, what an odd thought to go through your head…

  Hmm, what’s this entry on my calendar? Why look, at two o’clock I’m slated to have a drink and jack-off to Courtney’s thong… I can’t miss that again…

  Horny idiot.

  I had made it just down the street from the accounting building when I saw a familiar blue Honda Accord pass by. The driver hit the brakes and whipped the car into the curb. The passenger window slid down as I approached.

  “Hey you,” Sheila Denning said, leaning across the seat to call me over. Fuck… not now… I put on a happy face and leaned into the window.

  Sheila was in her mid-thirties but looked much younger. She had a full mane of naturally blond hair and big blue eyes. She had a turned-up nose and a set of lips most Hollywood actresses would have killed for.

  She was a cheerleader at UCLA and Chuck was on the football team when they got married. She held her looks well, but Chuck was now balding and had a gut like a beach ball. I thought that was one of the reasons Sheila was attracted to me. I was one of the few single, forty-something-year-old guys on staff that didn’t look like a walking advertisement for heart failure.

  Sheila was wearing a pair of black slacks and a willowy blouse that hid one of the most rocking bodies on campus, regardless of her age. I knew every inch of her body well. I’d gone over it in fine detail with my fingers and my tongue. I was glad that she was happily married to Charlie and just having fun with me. If she had been available, we probably would have hooked up and I knew where that would end.

  “Hey yourself,” I said, giving her a smile. “Where are you headed?”

  “I have a meeting with Dean Warner,” she said. “Where are you going?

  “Oh, just thought I’d run home for a sandwich.” I made a big show of checking my watch. “My next class is in hour, so…”

  “Well get in and I’ll drop you by your house,” she said, giving her head a little jerk.

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, patting the passenger seat. “It’ll take two minutes.”

  I thought about turning her down, but that would have set off a red flag for her. Sheila was a knockout and a tiger in the sack, but she could also be a jealous bitch and I’d felt her wrath several times in recent months.

  Even though she was married, she didn’t like me having anything to do with other women. Once, she saw me out with a waitress that I occasionally banged and she went ballistic, leaving threatening messages on my phone and showing up drunk at my house in the middle of the night. She told me that I belonged to her and I’d better not be seeing anyone else.

  She’d shit a brick if she knew that I was fucking Dean Warner and a half dozen other women in her faculty group.

  I’m not dumb.

  I know that the shit will hit the fan someday.

  Until then, I’ll just keep on lying and fucking her.

  And hiding all the sharp objects when she comes to call.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and set the briefcase on the floor between my feet. Sheila waited until I buckled up, then pulled away from the curb and headed off campus.

  “So, how was your weekend?” she asked.

  “Fine. I took the bike up into the mountains,” I said. “How was yours?”

  “Oh, same old same old,” she said with a sigh. She put her hand on my thigh and scratched her nails into my leg. She gave me a sideways glance and smiled. “I missed you.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course,” she said, her hand sliding up my thigh toward my crotch. “Didn’t you miss me?”

  “Of course,” I said with a nervous chuckle. Her hand kept inching upward. By the time she pulled to the curb in front of my bungalow, she was rubbing my cock through my pants.

  She put the car into gear and turned towards me, leaning her right elbow on the console and putting her left hand on my erection.

  “I could come in for a minute,” she said, her fingers squeezing and massaging my cock beneath the thin khaki. “I could help you with that.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said, putting my hand on hers to stop the movement. “If you don’t stop that, there’ll be no need to come inside.”

  “I can make you come in your pants,” she said, trying to wiggle her hand from mine. She gave me a dreamy look and stuck her tongue between her lips.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, pushing her hand away and picking up the briefcase to cover my crotch. “I have to get back to class and I don’t want to do it with a big wet spot on my pants.”

  “You’re no fun,” she said, pouting her lips.

  “Now you know that’s not true,” I said, giving her a sly smile. I reached for the door handle and gave it a tug. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She grabbed my arm before I could open the door. “Hey, Charlie’s away this weekend. I was thinking I’d come over and spend the night on Friday. Maybe you could take me on a bike ride into the mountains on Saturday. Maybe we could take a blanket… have a little picnic… maybe fuck in the woods… like animals…”

  “Oh, yeah, that sounds great,” I said, pushing open the door with my elbow to make my escape. I slammed the door and leaned back in through the window. “We’ll talk before then.”

  She narrowed her dark eyes at me. “Logan, is anything wrong?”

  “Wrong? No, of course not. I’m just in a rush is all.”

  She stared at me for a moment, like she was trying to read my mind, then gave me a little smile. “Okay, I’m off to meet with Dean Warner. I’ll see you later.” She dipped her eyes and gave her chin a lift, as if she were looking down at my crotch through the closed door. “Be careful with that thing, Professor. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  I stood with the briefcase covering my erection and waved as she drove away.

  It was turning out to be a very interesting day.

  The kind of day you look back on as the day before the shit hit the fan.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Courtney

  “You actually gave him your thong?” Mindy grinned at me from the other side of the lunch table. “Oh my god, Courtney, that’s so freakin’ awesome. Why don’t I ever think to do stuff like that.”

  “Because all the guys you wanna fuck just say bring it on,” I said, biting off the end of a French fry. I picked up a napkin and wiped ketchup from my lips. “Professor Clark is making me work for it, so I have to get creative.”

  She leaned in with a devilish look in her eyes. “What do you think he’ll do with them?”

  I picked up the soda cup and brought the straw to my lips. “I dunno. Maybe he’ll sleep with them under his pillow. Or jack-off with them stuffed in his mouth.”

  Mindy chuckled and waved a hand at me. “God, Courtney, you’re awful.”

  “I’m not awful,” I said with a playful frown. “I’m just horny.”

  “If you were just horny, you’d just go get laid,” Mindy said matter-of-factly. She glanced around the crowded cafeteria. “There are a dozen guys in here right now who would gladly scratch that itch for you. This thing you have for Logan Clark, it goes much deeper than that. It’s not about just getting laid anymore, is it?”

  “Oh god, please, not the psycho-babble bullshit again,” I said. Mindy was a psych major who hoped to someday have her own psychiatric practice where she could listen to crazy people bitch and moan about their crazy lives all day.

  We had been roommates for the last
three years and Mindy was constantly trying to psychoanalyze me, like I was her own private lab rat or case study or something. It thrilled her when I told her about my daddy complex, and she was constantly picking apart my various relationships and sexual misadventures, looking for deep, dark undertones that she could dissect and solve for me.

  Sometimes it was fun to play along, but other times, when she actually struck a nerve, it was not such fun. I knew I was a mental and sexual basket case. I didn’t need my roommate constantly trying to figure out why.

  I huffed at her and said, “Honestly, Mindy, I wish you were an art major or something that didn’t require you to psychoanalyze me all the time. I’m not your class project, you know.”

  “Maybe not, but I think there’s more here than you just trying to screw an older professor,” Mindy said. She put on a thoughtful face as she picked up a French fry and swirled it around the ketchup on her plate. I recognized that face. It was her “I’m staring into your brain” face. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. She munched on the fry and studied me with her eyes almost closed.

  She asked, “Do you ever think about doing more than just having sex with him?”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Do you ever think about having a relationship with him that goes beyond just sex? Do you ever think about having a long-term relationship with him?” Mindy picked up her cup and shook the ice, then suctioned out the last noisy sip and cocked her eyebrows at me.