by J. M. Dabney
“May I take off your panties? No one can see you. No way I would share this with anyone else.”
“Yes.”
“So honored you trust me.”
She hated the emptiness as he retreated, but she braced her hands on his shoulder. He lowered her foot back down. With aching slowness, Bret eased her thong down her legs. The wet fabric was leaving a trail of slickness in its wake.
“I've never been naked in front of anyone.”
“As it should be, you were meant to be mine.”
She felt something in that statement should terrify her, but it didn't. The desire was there in the harsh lines of his face and the darkness of his eyes.
“Now, just stand still, I want to memorize every inch of you.”
She didn't understand what he meant until he was leaning back in the chair working to undo his pants as his gaze gave her a once, then twice over. The sensible part of her brain told her she should feel vulnerable and hunted, but instead, she felt powerful.
Her gaze locked in on the thick dark curls at the base his dick and she licked her lips. His deep chuckle drew her attention to his sexy smirk and heavy-lidded eyes.
“Do you like surprises, baby girl?”
“Depends on how big the surprise is.”
“I don't think you'll be disappointed.”
The rumbling groan had her taking a step back so she could just study him. Bret was sexy with the lines at the corners of his eyes. The thick beard. His powerful chest strained his t-shirt, and she allowed herself to skim her gaze lower. The hard cock wasn't monstrous in length, but the width made her squeeze her soft thighs together. Then she counted the nine small barbells that ran the underside of his length.
“Now, Principal Stoker, I'm scandalized.”
“Ms. Kilmer, come here. I think we need to discuss something.”
Just a second of unease made her pause. She reminded herself this was Bret. She wouldn't let her past define her, and she was a survivor. He leaned forward and raised his arms. Bret placed his hands on her waist, and his thumb just skimmed the edge of the simple tattoo with just one word over her pelvic bone.
Survivor.
“So sexy, Ms. Kilmer.”
Without warning, she was off her feet and her legs wrapped around him. Seconds later she sank into the soft mattress.
“Fuck,” she screamed as his face was buried between her legs.
She arched, writhed, and fisted her hands in his hair. Her eyes rolled back as he curled his tongue around her clit. She didn't know where it came from, but she suddenly spread her thighs wide, planted her feet on the bed and ground herself against his mouth. Her stomach sucked in tight, and her upper body left the mattress. She'd never wanted to get off so badly in her life.
Every time he seemed to be getting ready to move away, she only tightened her grip on his hair and pulled him in deeper. Sweat ran from her body and her hair stuck to her face. She swept her gaze down her body to find him watching her. Her fingers or vibrator would never live up to her man's tongue.
And just as she was about to reach nirvana, he pulled away.
“What the fuck?”
Bret was standing at the end of the bed. She glared up at him as she shoved her hand between her thighs and stroked her swollen, aching clit.
“No, no, Ms. Kilmer.” He smacked her hands away and then pushed two fingers in. The slap of his palm against her soaked pussy lips was loud in the room. “Let's get something straight right now. You get off when I say you get off.”
She started to ride his thick fingers, fucked herself on them with sharp arches of her hips.
“If you're not going to do it, I'll do it my damn self.”
Another denial and she cursed as Bret laughed. He stripped until his big, tattooed body was bare and he loomed over the bed.
“Ms. Kilmer, I think you need a spanking.”
“You and whose army is going to accompl—”
The unexpected feel of his palm coming down on her pussy had her caught in some weird mix of shock and lust and then he did it again. She tried to get away by scooting farther up the bed, but Bret's smile just turned darker—dangerous.
With each smack, the fabric under her grew wetter, but what made it so maddening was that he simply grazed her clit with the tip of one finger between spankings. It turned so intense that she tried to slam her thighs shut. She was barely pulling enough oxygen into her lungs. Her nipples were so hard they hurt.
“Are you going to be my good girl now, Ms. Kilmer?”
She slammed her legs shut and turned to her side, just the pressure of her thighs together intensified her pain and pleasure.
“Not a chance, Principal.”
“Now, I can't have that, now, can I?”
She jerked her gaze to him to find him kneeling, his cock already covered in a condom, and he wrapped his hand around her ankle. Bret straightened out her left leg and straddled it, and she felt the blunt tip of his pierced cock nudge her hole.
“Tell me you're my good girl, Ms. Kilmer.”
“No.”
And then she was so full she couldn't think straight, and she grasped a pillow to her chest. Bret's hands gripped her thigh and hip. She was at the mercy of the piston-hard slams of his hips and his skin slapping against hers. Bret blanketed her body and took her mouth in a hard kiss as his left hand tortured her overly sensitive breasts.
“So pretty the way you're whimpering for me.”
She was on the verge of crying as the pleasure kept building with no relief in sight. Even as she silently begged for release, she didn't want it to end. She wasn't herself. She wasn't in control. She didn't have to pretend to be strong.
“Sh, baby.”
His pace changed into slow retreats and hard thrusts that rocked her and the bed. He hooked his left arm under her left leg and lifted it to her chest, opening her wider for him.
“Gonna love you so good.”
The angle changed as she was screaming his name and begging.
“My good little girl likes that, doesn't she? Me bottoming out in your tight cunt.”
Then he was punishing her with harder, deeper, and grinding thrusts. She felt her orgasm coming, but it was still too far off. She was a mess of crying, sweating, and swearing woman. And then his hairy thigh brushed her swollen clit, and she pushed down on it. Used his leg and cock until she screamed into the pillow and he was cursing and calling her name. His movements faltered, and he collapsed on her.
Bret tenderly kissed her temple, cheek and then her lips. Every tiny nudge of his hips kept her spasming until she could no longer move.
Bret groaned in her ear, “Take mercy on an old man.”
“What?”
“You keep squeezing around me.”
“I just get the one?”
She knew she'd probably have second, third, and fourth thoughts when the afterglow wore off, but right then she was exhausted and satisfied.
She moaned at the feel of his fingers brushing where his body was still buried deep, and then he was gently retreating. She rolled to her stomach, and he kissed his way down the indent of her spine.
“I've imagined you just like this in my bed. Your pussy red and tender from my loving. I'm going to get a cloth to clean you up. I want you on your back when I get back with your legs open.”
She did as he ordered, but he was already walking to the bathroom. She remained silent as he returned, tenderly cleaned her tattoo and between her legs. Then smoothed ointment onto the ink. After he dropped the rag onto the floor, he stretched out beside her and pulled her close. Tucked her to his furry chest and she inhaled the scent of him into her lungs.
“I never dreamed of earning your trust enough to be able to do this. I know we still have a long way to go, but don't think that I'm going to let you go.”
She closed her eyes to hide the tears and cuddled closer. Yes, the doubts would come, but for this…she'd suffer through them.
His Woman was So Beautiful
He had no complaints. After years he had the freedom to give his woman public displays of affection, and he didn't waste an opportunity to do so.
Occasionally it made her uncomfortable that he was affectionate, but he always backed away without drawing attention to that.
Miles and Philly were spending more time at the ranch. His dad was in better spirits and had insisted Miles call him grandpa.
He loved her. He'd denied his growing feelings for what they were for years, but even as he was comfortable in admitting it silently, he wasn’t quite ready to confess to Philly yet. The situation had gotten out of hand when they were in Cheyenne. He'd just wanted to get her off. Show her there was pleasure in sex. Her aggressiveness shocked him. Yet he knew the heat of the moment tempered her usual caution.
To him, it was her first time, and he should've made it more special than he had. Although, no, he pushed the thoughts away because he knew it would end in his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. He'd never seen anything sexier than that small, confident smile that had curved her lips. He wanted to kiss that little tattoo right beside her beautiful nest of curls.
Fuck, he scooted across the porch to sit between her legs, and he widened them to give his shoulders more room. He smiled at Philly as she unconsciously dropped a kiss on top of his head.
“Aw, aren't you two so cute.”
He leaned his head back to look at Miles just in time to catch Philly flipping him off. This time tea flew from Miles' nose as the boy snorted and choked.
Philly cackled evilly. “That's what you get!”
“You're supposed to be nice and spoil your only child,” Miles pouted.
“Where in the parenting handbook was that?”
“It's gotta be an addendum or something, or maybe should be.”
He'd spent most of his adult life around parents and their kids, out of all that time he'd rarely come across a parent-child relationship like Philly and Miles'.
“Oh, we're making everyone dinner tonight.”
“Is that what all those bags were for?”
When they'd surprised him earlier with a visit, they'd pushed into the house like they owned the place and took over. They'd made plans to meet up for fireworks in town. When Miles had pulled up to the house, he hadn’t censored his happiness.
He loved having them there. They were his two favorite people and the times he’d pretended they weren't had thankfully ended. All three of them went shopping for Miles' dorm room. They'd already planned a road trip to drop him at school.
“Yep. Well, Miles is making dinner. I'm in charge of dessert. He won't let me near a stove when he's home.”
“She's going to starve when I go away to college.”
“I won't let my woman starve. I love her too much like she is.”
Philly seemed to take the words as a figure of speech, but he couldn't ignore Miles' bright smile.
“I have to go get the grill going, or we'll miss the fireworks.” Miles pushed off from the swing. “And since I don't need to watch my mother make-out with her boyfriend, do it quick before I get back.”
He waited until Miles was gone before he was on his knees with his arms around Philly.
“The kid has spoken, he doesn't want to be grossed out by the old people making out.”
“Old, speak for yourself, Principal Stoker.”
He gripped Philly's ample ass in his hands. “You know what you calling me that does.”
“Oh, I do.” She lifted her chin and bumped his nose with hers.
“And you're wearing my favorite shorts.” He tucked his fingers under the fabric and squeezed her bare cheeks.
“Yes, I am. Also that thong you liked so much.”
His groan made Philly giggle.
“My vibrator and fantasies aren't living up to the reality, Principal Stoker.”
He tugged Philly's hips forward to rub her against his cock.
“Behave, we're out in the open.”
“My old room is really close by, and I want to lick that pussy until you scream.”
All he had to hear was her pretty little moan, and he was up off his knees with her over his shoulder and headed into the house. He was halfway up the stairs when the laughter stopped him. He turned to find his dad staring at them from the bottom of the steps.
“Boy, where you think you're going?”
The stern sound of his dad's voice was tempered by the amusement in his eyes. Also, the gang of ranch hands behind his dad didn't help.
“I was feeling faint, so he was taking me to lie down.”
That earned a loud round of laughter from the guys and nearly wiped the stern look off his dad's face.
“Yeah, I've been around too long to believe that shit.”
His dad swatted the guys with his cowboy hat to get them moving.
He groaned as he placed her feet on the step above the one he was standing on.
“Mood ruined?”
“Kinda. Your dad would know what we're doing.”
“I should've just made a run for my house across the yard.”
“Why didn't you?”
He grinned at her look and tone which implied he was an idiot. He was. His impatience had overwhelmed his thought processes.
“The room upstairs was closer. Come home with me after the fireworks tonight?”
“And what would be my incentive for doing that?”
“Well…” He stroked his fingers from her throat, between her breasts and just skimmed over the front of her shorts. “I can love on you, and then you can sleep in my bed.”
She tilted her head to the side as if she were contemplating the offer and then gave a long, suffering sigh. “You're not really selling me on the idea.”
He turned Philly until his body blocked her from sight and pushed his hand down the back of her shorts, passed the crotch of her panties and thrust inside. To anyone walking by it would just look like they were making out on the steps. He leaned his head down to press his lips to Philly's ear.
“You're already wet for me.” He eased his hand from the back of her shorts and hugged her to his chest as he brought his mouth down on hers. She made the sweetest sounds when he kissed her. Needy. He hated that she'd gone without for so long. The tip of his tongue teased Philly's.
“Mom, Pop, really?” Miles screeched so loud it would've done a teenage girl proud.
“I can show your mother affection.”
“I can't wait to go off to college to avoid this nastiness.”
He met Philly's gaze as she shook with laughter. “And you think this is funny?”
“My son is grossed out. I've reached the pinnacle of motherhood. I've never done that before.”
“Go, I have to go to the bathroom.”
He stood there to watch her skip down the steps, and her sexy ass bounced as she went. That woman was going to drive him insane. He stomped up the steps listening to the happy sounds coming from downstairs. In all his forty-eight years not once had he felt like his life was missing anything. Maybe it had existed at the back of his mind but not until he decided to take a chance did it make itself known.
Rarely did he go a day without seeing his woman or at least having a phone conversation. It felt so right just to grab his phone and text her to see if she needed anything. Tell her he missed her.
He closed himself in the bathroom and leaned back against the door.
He wanted to tell her how he felt. Philly still held part of herself back, but he understood it and respected her space. He knew she was still fighting her demons and as physically free as she was with him, it was that she restrained
herself emotionally. Philly was scared to let him have more than her body and time.
Waiting would kill him. Yet Philly was worth the slowness and tenderness. Philly deserved all those new relationship things. He'd pondered the possibility before, but Philly hadn't.
Yes, he got impatient sometimes when he felt her pull back. He was human, and the only person he ever wanted to make his wasn't ready for the I love you's.
He went to the sink, washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face. He lifted his head to study his face in the mirror. Taking in the wrinkles and the gray in his hair. Philly wasn't the only one of them who had insecurities. His woman was beautiful and young, and he was hitting middle age hard. He shook his head at the thoughts and turned off the water.
He went to find Philly and spend time with her and Miles. Soon, the boy would be gone, and he wanted quality time with him as well.
Fate Was a Bitch
The bigger grocery store was off the highway, and her boy needed supplies. Miles lived on protein bars and energy drinks, when he wasn't shoveling food in his mouth left and right. She was still shocked how she kept him fed for seventeen years. Bret ran off to pick up some meds from the vet and Miles was waiting in the car. Her son hated shopping. Bret was going to meet them any minute. Bret asked her to text him when she was done.
She pushed the overflowing cart across the parking lot, and as she drew nearer the car, a frown stretched the corners of her mouth. The familiar outline of her nightmares was in a heated conversation with Miles. She quickened her steps even as nausea twisted her gut and fear dampened her skin with sweat.
The front of the cart hit the side of the car harder than she anticipated and drew the attention of her son and Murphy.
“I got a good looking kid here.”
“You ain't got shit, old man.”
Miles pushing the older and softer man with the receding hairline had her pushing between them. The rage coming off her son was a physical, oppressive aura.
“Heard my boy got a scholarship, football, right?”
“My son got an academic scholarship. What the fuck are you doing here?”