My Father's Dirty Friend
Page 7
“Mason…” she begins to say but trails off when a particularly loud moan escapes from her mouth. She throws her head back, squirming crazily on the seat. Stacy sits forward suddenly, her finger pointing toward the divider.
I shake my head. “The driver can’t hear or see us,” I assure her. She smiles in return and locks her eyes on mine, the color of them burning into my memory. She tries to hold my gaze, her expression faltering as she tries to control the sensations the toy is giving her.
My penis grows hard as I watch her squirm. Stacy brings a hand to her mouth to stifle another loud moan, regardless. I reach out and place my hand on her thigh and her body convulses, her mouth open, bottom lip quivering, her head turned down, eyes looking up at me.
She subconsciously reaches for her breasts before pulling them away. “Be yourself, Stace,” I tell her and watch excitedly as she gingerly grasps at her bosom, massaging, playing. She has both feet firmly planted in the seat now, her legs supporting her body as she lounges back, her breath fast and staccato.
With a quick slide of my finger, I bring the toy’s vibrations down to zero. Stacy takes advantage of the downtime, her breath becomes more stable, enjoying the moment of peace from the pleasurable torture before she shoots me a disheartened look for taking away her stimulation.
“Come to me,” I tell her.
She does what she’s told, slowly at first, not feigning restraint but showing only that she is savoring it. For a few moments, she is on all fours as she crawls toward me, and I part my legs a little to give her room, shifting my feet further to the sides. She comes to a stop and I look down to see her hunkered between my legs, looking at me with an expectant glint in her eye that makes my penis twitch much more intensely.
“Good girl, Stace,” I say and bring my hand up to her face, caressing her cheek as my other hand slips down to slowly unzip my pants. I trace my thumb around her mouth, teasing her with a promise of more as I probe past her pursed lips. The feeling of her warm, wet tongue against my thumb sends a shiver throughout my body and I slide my hands into my pants and grip my throbbing member.
She doesn’t break her eye contact as she clasps both her hands around my wrist and leans forward, pushing my thumb all the way into her mouth. Even over the low sound of the limo, I can hear Stacy let out the quietest of moans while she slowly, methodically begins to suck on my thumb. She is gentle at first but it builds into a faster pace as she works my thumb in and out of her mouth, letting herself go with the moment.
That hot, wet feel of her mouth makes my penis rock hard in my hand and I squeeze it in anticipation before sliding my hand back out. I take one of Stacy’s hands in my grip and with no effort at all push it against the bulge tenting my pants.
As I slide my thumb from her mouth she looks toward her hand that rests against my crotch and I slide her fingers inside. Her flesh brushing against my shaft makes my penis go into overdrive and I let a moan escape from my lips when I feel her hand wrap tightly around the shaft.
With my hands placed on the seat either side of me, I watch and almost squirm with anticipation as Stacy wrestles my cock out of my pants. I can hear her almost gasp, her mouth moving, when it springs out, standing to attention before her.
“Good girl,” I tell her again.
Before she responds she has to break herself from the spell, forcing her eyes from gazing at my cock just to meet mine. “It’s so big,” she says quietly, her voice quivering inquisitively.
I simply nod in response and she wastes no time returning to admire my penis. Her fingers shift along the shaft, every movement causes pangs of sensation to fly through my nerve endings. I look down and the sight of Stacy Bradley between my legs with my cock in her hand as she explores every inch of it almost sends me over the edge.
“Open your mouth, Stace,” I tell her, grabbing my cock in my hand, pushing her fingers away.
Stacy looks up at me and then ever so slowly she opens her mouth and patiently waits as I bend my cock forward. The tip glances across her upper lip and the sensation is almost overwhelming, my heart beats ever faster in my chest. I watch her eyes slide shut as the tip of my cock slides into her mouth. She closes her lips around it and I have to bring my hands to the seat again as support when the sensation overwhelms me.
I let out a loud moan and she looks up at me again, the sight of Stacy on her knees with my cock in her mouth so intensely erotic I almost lose it right at this moment. Slowly she begins to work her mouth on the tip of my cock, sliding it in and out, her full lips rubbing across just the right areas that make my PC muscle contract in sync. I try to gauge her mindset but this is answered for me when I hear her moan loudly as my cock slips out of her mouth momentarily before she leans into it again, taking it deeper.
She takes it slowly at first, each time she pushes down she takes just a little bit more of my cock into her mouth until soon I can feel my shaft in her throat. All the while she continues to keep her eyes locked to mine as if she is making sure I know that it is Stacy Bradley sucking my cock.
I push my hand through her hair as she goes down again, taking my cock deeper still until her nose is nuzzling against my belly. She holds it there for several seconds before slowly withdrawing. I watch as my cock slowly appears from out of her mouth and when it is cleared I can see tiny strands of saliva rope in the air between her mouth and my shaft.
“That is so fucking good, Stace,” I tell her, and mean it.
She smiles. “Thank you,” is all she says before swallowing half my cock into her mouth and begins to tongue the tip with varying lashes and licks and massages.
The pressure builds, the feeling of my cock in her mouth, the sight of Stacy on her knees pleasuring me with such rampant abandon pushes me over the edge. I lean forward and grab her head in my hands and hold her steady as I moan loudly. I come hard into her mouth, feeling my penis constrict and pump in varying cycles.
Stacy still does not break her eye contact, staring into mine as I look down, her head in my hands, half my cock in her mouth. She withdraws carefully until she is sitting back on her hunkers.
Her mouth is closed, her lips glint wetly in the light. She gives me a big, tight-lipped smile and then I can see her throat move as she swallows.
I run my hands through my hair and try to regain my breath.
Chapter 9
Stacy
It is not long afterward when I find myself back in my room at the hotel, my mind still reeling from the events during our drive. Mason had the driver take us back through the city, taking a different route this time so I could wonder at the different styles of buildings and zoning — if there is one thing that the drive has shown me, its that the city is still beautiful and has a multitude of pathways untraveled yet, even by a lifelong city dweller as myself.
I’d been dropped off at the front entrance right on the same spot I’d been picked up. I was standing on the steps, halted in my climb up to the front door by Mason who was leaning out of the back of the limo.
“Expect my call,” he had said.
With that, he had disappeared back inside and I found myself standing alone on the steps. Before entering I made sure to brush off my maid outfit, just in case we’d somehow managed to stain it. The lobby itself was full of people so I’d kept my head down and made my way to the elevator and up to my room.
I sit now on the edge of my bed, my mind going through the motions of the day, savoring every detail. My nether still aches from the stimulation, or perhaps the real cause is the missing toy: Mason had taken it back, said I didn’t need it right now.
My heart still beats fast in my chest as I think everything over. I feel dirty, but in a good way, a feeling that comes to me with such ease that I am almost surprised. There was a time when I once might have felt very sexually uncomfortable around Mason, but today I had allowed him to stimulate me while he watched, and then…
Then I had gotten on my knees before him and pleasured him with my mouth. He had brought me to a
lmost complete orgasm with his toy before he had turned it off. The need it left inside me had me crawling between his legs at the mere utterance of his command, desperate for more, and, I suppose, that was his intention.
Well played, Mason Lockwood, I think slyly to myself.
I bite my lower lip and realize I can still taste him. Of all the things I thought would happen today — even accounting for him using his toy remotely on me in bed, this morning — I never thought I would make Mason Lockwood come in my mouth.
Quickly, I change out of my maid outfit and into some casual clothes and make my way down to the hotel restaurant. I know full well my father will be out of the hotel this weekend and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take advantage of free food.
When I reach the restaurant I pause at the large doors before creaking them open and taking a deft peek inside. Some waiters mill around, preparing tables, but I don’t see the head waiter, my father’s stationed minion between myself and my food.
I sneak inside.
This is the same path I’ve taken almost my entire life. All I have to do is sneak across the foyer, hang to the right, move along the tables near the wall then I can enter the kitchen. The waiters moving around the dining area hear nothing, see nothing, as I move along the path and slip through the double doors.
The kitchen is busy, the cooks bustle and try to comprehend the orders being barked out machine-gun style by the chef. I use this to my advantage and simply move through the chaos, lifting a plate from a stack and piling whatever food I can onto it as I maneuver my way through the kitchen and out the opposite door. From there I cross the other side of the dining area, passing the waiters with their backs to me, and disappear out the exit.
In and out in three minutes, I think to myself. You’re getting old, Stace.
Victorious, I head down in the service elevator to the basement floor, the heat from the food radiates through the plate and starts to burn my fingertips. By the time I get into the storage room and slam the plate onto a table here my fingers are a raw red color. I suck on them while I fish out a knife and fork.
I find a folding chair against the wall and set it up by the table, sit down and begin to tuck into my prize, savoring the most tasteful food the hotel is known for. And the fact that it has cost me nothing just makes it taste even better.
In your face, Dad, I think defiantly.
Of all the things that I had to endure since returning home and asking for help, I think the worst was my dad telling me I wasn’t just going to be able to eat for free at the hotel. Considering my meager income, that was quite a shock.
But … Stace found her way, I think and smile to myself.
It takes me all of ten minutes to finish up all the different kinds of food on the plate and I’m leaning back in my chair with my hands on my belly and breathing through it when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I remove it and check the text message that pops up.
Penthouse. One hour.
A shudder of anticipation runs through my body.
I step off the elevator.
The two oaken doors into the penthouse are closed and around the handle of one is a Do Not Disturb sign. I walk over to the door and take the sign in my hand and contemplate its meaning. Was this left on here by accident? Or did Mason forget? Or was this perhaps some sort of game?
I decide to call Mason but as I take out my phone it vibrates in my hand with a text message from the man himself. After reading it I look up at the corner of the anteroom and see the camera from which he is currently watching me.
As instructed I place the sign back on the door then turn the handle allowing the heavy wood to swing slowly open and step inside.
The penthouse is mostly bathed in darkness, the blinds shut, curtains drawn. Only a sliver of yellowish light slices the darkness from a slit in the large pane glass doors on the far side of the room. I walk timidly toward them, careful not to stumble over furniture as I make my way through the dark room.
As I approach the glass doors I can sense steam and heat emanating from beyond. I reach out and slide them open, slowly, as if afraid I’m about to reveal something horrific. Every horror novel I’ve read flashes through my mind in a blinding light.
I step through the doorway and find myself standing on the decking, built into the corner of the penthouse. My feet click on the wood flooring and to my left I can see a large private pool, the water still and unmoving. Surrounded by all glass, I gaze up through the ceiling panes to see the stars are beginning to shine in the heavens above.
There is another light here as well, a double row of candles sitting atop petite holders on the hardwood floor, seemingly forming a pathway that I trace with my eyes to the far side of the decking until I find Mason Lockwood directly in my gaze.
“Welcome,” he says quietly.
My senses become overwhelmed by the image. I look around me as if to verify that this is all real and actually occurring. The glass that surrounds us, the path of candles, the steam and the hot air despite how cold it must be just outside the windows, and Mason himself, lounging back in a hot tub that seems to broil beneath him.
I approach him slowly, the closer I get the more my heart beats in my chest until I am standing just before the hot tub at the bottom of the three-tiered steps that lead up to where it is perched. I can see that Mason is naked from the waist up and instantly find my mind wondering if it is also so from the waist down.
He holds a glass in his hand and drinks from it before speaking. “Come on in, Stace,” he says, “the water is great.”
I bite my lip instead of replying to him. Instead, I simply find myself staring at his body. His upper chest is well defined and heaves up and outward as he breathes. His arms are big but not like a bodybuilder, more like the functional tightness of a martial artist. He sips on his wine again as he watches me appraise him with my eyes — with my needs.
As slowly as I can I begin to remove my clothing, one piece at a time, letting my skirt fall around my ankles, tossing my blouse by my side until I stand before him in only my underwear and bra.
Time hangs in the air with the steam and the heat as we stare at one another. Finally, he says: “Everything, Stace. It’s only fair, after all.”
He motions below the water and my breath becomes a little quicker, imaging his lower body, powerful and naked, his big cock… I wonder if he is erect, hard for me, craving me as I stand here and remove my bra, freeing my big tits, my nipples already hard as diamonds.
I slide my panties down, so slowly, trying my best to tease him, my mind obsessing on how I must look to him at this very moment. I hope I look sexy, appealing, despite our different body types. My breasts push out as I bend forward and slide my panties down over my ass until they too pile around my ankles.
“Beautiful,” Mason says. “Come here, Stace.”
My legs almost betray me as I try and climb the steps, but they move after a little encouragement from Mason, taking me up and toward the man I’ve had a crush on for many years, the very same man who has been a friend to our family for just as much time as that. This man in the hot tub who I allowed to spank me, to drive me to orgasm with a toy, whose legs I had gotten between and had willingly, eagerly, pleasured him with my mouth until I could swallow the result of his orgasm.
By the time I slip the first foot into the water my mind is reeling with our recent sexual exploits, a heat in my body emanates solely from my core, overriding anything I feel from the hot water I step into. The water rises up to my shoulders as I reach a comfortable position.
Mason reaches across and hands me a glass of wine. “It’s very relaxing, isn’t it?”
I try to breathe deeper, the feeling of the water surrounding my body making it just a little harder to fill my lungs. The heat of the water almost instantly fatigues me, so I sip my wine in order to stabilize myself.
Mason smiles brightly. “I like to soak in the heat every night. Especially after a big day. Especially after a big win.”
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br /> I laugh. “Am I your big win, Mason?”
He holds out his glass as if to signify a realization before finishing the wine within. “I believe you are, Stace. As long as you don’t have a problem with that, of course.”
I smile and replicate his motion with my own glass before knocking it back in one gulp. “If you’re happy with your prize,” I say, feeling even more self-doubts about my body creep into my mind, taking hold, threatening to ruin everything.
“Very,” Mason simply says.
Even with the heat in the room surrounding us and turning both of our skin a bright, glistening red, I can still feel the blood flush my cheeks from his comment. Despite all that has happened the last two days, I still am not accustomed to being naked in front of a fit billionaire — if it wasn’t for our past, for our familiarity, I probably would be having a lot more trouble holding myself together right now.
I find my glass empty already and Mason offers another, but I decline and set the glass on the edge of the tub next to me. I’d rather maintain a lot of my composure for this encounter and coast on the small buzz, so as not to completely embarrass myself.
“You have a beautiful body, Stace,” Mason says.
“If you say so.”
“I do,” he says loudly like he is giving the final absolute decree any one person could give.
I bite my lip and smile to one side as a wave of cheekiness overwhelms me. “I bet you say that to all the women,” I tell him.
Mason nods slowly. “Sure, but I always mean it.”
The water gurgles around my body as I weigh his answer, that stroke of wit and cheekiness thrown back my way making me crave Mason even more, despite any reservations or naughtiness that this whole situation makes me feel.
Mason gently knocks back the last of his own wine. “Stace,” he says with his eyes locked to mine, his head downturned. “You looked especially beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”