Her Daddy's Best Friend

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Her Daddy's Best Friend Page 10

by Kim Wickford


  "I know he is, honey," Mom said, and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face.

  I gave her a dubious look. "That's not what you told me this afternoon. I'm pretty sure you called him a pervy molester."

  She shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well … I thought the world of him until I saw that video. Then my only concern was for the safety of my daughter. I had no idea the two of you cared so much for each other."

  "So you're okay with our relationship?"

  She frowned. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned by the age gap. But who am I to judge? Gran and Grandpa are fifteen years apart, and their marriage is still rock solid. Who's to say it won't be the same for you? Anyway, it would be a different story if you came home carrying the child of some random frat boy." She shivered at the thought. "The only thing that makes this situation a tiny bit easier to accept is that we've known Logan for so many years."

  "We're going to be okay, Mom," I insisted and gave her hand a squeeze. "I know it. We love each other so much."

  She pulled me close and held me tight. "Honey, you're growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday you were a baby in my arms. Now you're about to be a mother. Where has the time gone?"

  Every now and then I heard the muffled sound of raised voices from behind the door of Dad's man-cave. When the two guys finally emerged an hour later, the expression on my father's face was grim but resigned. Logan looked weary too. He came over to give me a reassuring hug to let me know everything was going to be okay.

  The rest of the Thanksgiving weekend was far from perfect, especially with Logan as our guest. Daddy carved the turkey with more aggression than was necessary. The conversation was subdued around the dinner table. And afterwards, when it was time to watch the football game on TV, both men sat on opposite sides of the living room, unwilling to share a couch the way they usually did.

  Everyone drank more too. A lot more. Except for me, of course. I was forbidden from having alcoholic beverages on account of the baby. It was probably for the best. Too many glasses of wine might have inspired me to jump Logan's bones, and I'm sure that was the last thing my poor, beleaguered parents needed to witness. Despite the tension in the air, a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. There was no need to sneak around anymore, no need to keep secrets. Our love was out in the open, and the feeling was liberating.

  In deference to my parents, my interaction with Logan remained chaste and non-erotic that weekend. The most we exchanged was a short hug and a quick kiss on the cheek as we said goodbye at the bus station on Sunday afternoon. Mom and Dad stood apart from us, just out of earshot, but I knew Daddy's eagle-eyes were on us, making sure that nothing inappropriate happened.

  "Promise me you'll come visit before the semester is over," I whispered into Logan's ear.

  "You've got exams coming up," he told me. "You don't need me there to distract you."

  I pouted out my lower lip. He was such a spoil-sport. Whether it was the flood of new hormones from being pregnant, or just my natural horniness, I wanted Logan more than ever. How was I going to get through the next few weeks and keep my sanity? Especially when I had to live with that traitor of a roommate: Stacy.

  Chapter 18

  Stacy was all smiles when I returned to our apartment later that evening. "How was your Thanksgiving?" she asked, feigning innocence.

  I kept my best game-face on, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of knowing how messed up the last few days had been for me. "Oh, it was lovely," I said flashing a huge smile. "I had such fun with Logan and my parents. I can't tell you what a laugh we had over that video you sent. I'm so glad you documented our first kiss. It's something I'll treasure for the rest of my life." Actually, that last part was true.

  Stacy's lips tightened into a thin, hard line. Her left eyelid twitched. "You mean your parents aren't upset that you're dating a significantly older man?"

  "Why should they?" I said with a shrug. "Logan is one of their best friends. What father wouldn't want to see his daughter involved with an emotionally mature, independently wealthy man?"

  Stacy tried to pretend she was happy for me, even though I could tell she was seething beneath the surface. I don't know why she had tried to destroy my happiness, or what she hoped to achieve. Did she really think she could steal Logan away from me? Her efforts hadn't worked at my party, and her second attempt had proved just as futile. One thing was certain: I'd never invite her to another one of my birthday celebrations.

  Our relationship remained curt and distant for the rest of the semester. I didn't care that we were no longer best friends. There was too much on my mind to worry about. When I wasn't studying for my exams, or pining for Logan, I was downloading books on childbirth. The whole process of pushing a baby out of my body terrified and excited me at the same time.

  Fortunately the relationship between my parents and Logan had defrosted a little while I was away. Daddy finally came to terms with the situation. He didn't even protest when Logan invited me around to his house on Christmas Eve … on my own! I thought for sure I'd need a chaperone.

  I kicked the snow off my boots and Logan helped me out of my jacket. He led me by the hand into his living room. There in the corner of the room sat a beautifully decorated tree, covered with twinkling lights and sparkling with loops of tinsel. An angel with golden hair and a trumpet sat at the very top.

  "It looks quite festive in here," I said admiring the yuletide scene. "Any chance of finding some mistletoe nearby?"

  I expected him to take advantage of my suggestion and whisk me away to his bedroom. After all, it had been ages since we'd shared an intimate moment together. Instead he went to the tree and fished out an enormous gift that was tucked beneath the branches.

  "First things first," he said, placing the huge present in my arms. "I believe it's tradition to open one gift on Christmas Eve."

  "You're the only gift I want."

  "Just open it," he insisted.

  I tore at the wrapping and pried back the cardboard flaps only to discover another slightly smaller box inside, also gift-wrapped. I raised a curious eyebrow at Logan and proceeded to unwrap the second package. Once again, there was a smaller gift inside.

  "What kind of a game are you playing here?" I asked.

  "Keep going," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  Soon I was surrounded by a sea of discarded gift-wrap and a pile of empty boxes of diminishing sizes. The object that remained in the middle of my palm was a blue velvet box.

  I looked up at him, my eyes as wide as saucers. "Is this what I think it is?"

  "Go on," Logan whispered. "Look inside."

  My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid to reveal an enormous diamond ring. The gleaming surface reflected the lights of the Christmas tree, scattering pretty colors around the room like a mirror ball. I was speechless as Logan got down on one knee and took my hand in his.

  "Amber Peterson, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

  I could barely see him through the blur of my tears. I uttered an incoherent snuffle. Logan hesitated, unable to determine if I'd accepted or rejected him.

  I gave a frantic nod and quickly blurted "yes" in case he had a last minute change of heart about marrying a blubbering, overly sentimental fool.

  He slipped the ring on my finger and it was a perfect fit. I barely had enough time to hold my hand up to admire the rock when Logan swept me into his arms.

  "Future Mrs. Amber Worthington, how about we find ourselves a sprig of mistletoe and celebrate in style."

  I squeezed him tight and whispered into his ear, "How about we find a whole bush of it?"

  *

  It took us ages to reach Logan's bedroom thanks to all the kissing and ripping-off of each other's clothing. A trail of discarded garments stretched out behind us in the hallway.

  I stood on my toes and wrapped my hands around the back of Logan's neck as our tongues swirled in each other's mouths. My hard nipples scraped across his chest.
His rampant cock was sandwiched between us. I could feel the warmth of it throbbing against the tiny swell of my pregnant belly.

  His big hands gripped my ass and he effortlessly hoisted me off my feet. I tried to wrap my legs around his hips to brace myself, but Logan kept lifting me higher until the lips of my pussy were poised over the jutting spire of his cock.

  "Oh, fuck," I murmured as he slid me down his length. I swallowed him up completely, without any resistance at all. My head lolled back as I rocked in his arms and relished the thickness of him inside me.

  He staggered forward, past the bed, towards the opposite side of the room.

  "Where are you taking me?" I panted.

  "To heaven."

  My back slammed against the bedroom wall. He plowed into me with long, hard strokes. I was pinned and helpless—held in place by the weight of his body. My legs encircled his buttocks, squeezing in time to his thrusts, drawing him deeper into me.

  "Faster!" I gasped. "Faster!'

  His hips moved in a blur. My back and buttocks bounced against the wall, threatening to dislodge the picture frames and paintings that hung on either side of us.

  Logan's cock continued to swell in the pulsing confines of my pussy as we both raced towards ecstasy. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest and in my ears. My thighs squeezed tighter, willing the cum to gush from Logan's balls.

  "I'm so close, Logan! Oh God, I'm so close! Make me yours!"

  His primal growl echoed around the room as I clamped down tight, ready to accept him, ready to take every last drop of his precious seed. He thrust hard into me one final time and came with a roar, exploding into me again and again and again. My nails raked his back, almost drawing blood. My mouth opened in a silent scream as my own orgasm tore through me.

  I felt him give a satisfying shudder. His cock twitched its final spurt and was still. We held each other for a long moment. All sounds and sensations beyond our entwined bodies were absent. But slowly, as if someone was turning up the volume on a distant TV set, the rest of the world gradually returned. He eased himself partway out of me. I could feel the warm trickle of his cum spill from me and run down his balls.

  "No," I murmured, squeezing my legs tighter. "Don't move. Stay right there. Be inside me a little bit longer."

  My body continued to quiver with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I could feel the rising heat from our flesh. If someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on us at that moment, we would have given off a hot steam. When I finally stopped trembling, he withdrew. My body grew limp in his arms, my calves slid down the backs of his legs. Logan lowered me to the floor and we collapsed in a heap.

  "Now that's what I call a Christmas present," I sighed.

  "Forget the diamond ring, maybe I should have just gift-wrapped my cock instead," he teased.

  "No!" I cried out. "I want them both! They're a package deal."

  He rolled on top of me and brushed the hair out of my face. There was nothing but adoration in his eyes. "I love you so much, Amber," he said and pressed his lips to mine in a tender kiss.

  I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight. "I love you too, Logan. You've made this the happiest Christmas ever."

  Epilogue

  I sat on the back porch while Logan worked in the yard. I never grew tired of watching him mow the lawn or dig up the flower beds, especially when he got too hot and had to take off his t-shirt. Once that happened, I would happily sip iced tea and enjoy the show for hours. Today my dreamy admiration was interrupted by a cry from next door.

  "Mommy, mommy! Look what grandma and I made!" Emma came skipping through the gap in the hedge carrying a covered plate. The ringlets of her long, auburn hair bounced on her shoulders.

  My mother followed close behind, urging the excitable four-year-old to be careful. "Not so fast honey, you don't want to drop that."

  "What have you got there, Emma?" I asked as I sat up in my lounger.

  With a flourish she removed the cover to reveal a lopsided cake smeared with a messy layer of chocolate frosting.

  "That looks delicious," I said. "What's the special occasion?"

  "It's for my baby brother's birthday," she exclaimed with an eager grin.

  I put a hand over my enormous belly and gave it an affectionate rub. "It'll be a few more weeks before we see him."

  "I can't wait that long," she said with an impatient stamp of her foot. "What will we do with this cake I made?"

  "There's only one thing that comes to mind," I said. "We'll have to eat it for ourselves."

  "Right now?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.

  It was getting close to lunchtime and I didn't really want her to spoil her appetite. But sometimes a little chocolate cake was the perfect treat on a beautiful summer afternoon. "I don't see why not. Just a tiny sliver for now."

  "Then grandma and I can go back to her kitchen and bake another one?"

  "Let's wait until we finish this cake first."

  She and my mother hurried inside my house to gather up some plates and cutlery.

  My big, sweaty man put his shovel aside and walked across the yard towards me. A thick curl of hair hung over his forehead. There was a lot more grey in it these days, but somehow it made him sexier than ever. His pecs glistened with sweat and I couldn't help but lick my lips as I watched a trickle of moisture roll down the gutter of his abs and vanish beneath his waistband. How could I be almost nine months pregnant and still as horny as a cat in heat?

  "Did I hear something about cake?" he asked, removing his leather gardening gloves and tucking them into his hip pocket.

  "Your daughter's been baking treats in the kitchen with grandma."

  "She inherited her mother's love of cooking, that's for sure."

  "I think you mean my love of eating. Are you going to spoil your appetite and have a piece too?"

  He shrugged. "I've got a hankering for a different kind of treat, if you know what I mean. I've always been more of a pie man."

  "Let me guess. Cherry pie?"

  "Bingo," he said and let his baby blue eyes drift across the curves of my body until they came to a lecherous rest at my crotch.

  "You realize your love of my special dessert is how I find myself in this fat, waddling condition once again."

  He reached for my outstretched arms so he could lift me from my chair. "I can't get enough of your curves. And your sexy ass looks marvelous when you waddle. As a matter of fact, I can't wait to knock you up a third time." His hand curled around to give my bottom a lusty pinch.

  I yelped just as Emma and my mother returned with napkins, a pitcher of milk, and a big stack of plates. Mom rolled her eyes as if she couldn't believe Logan and I were still as frisky as newlyweds after five years of marriage.

  "I'm going to invite Harry over to join us," Mom said. "I'm sure he's dying for a slice. He kept sticking his head into the kitchen every few minutes to ask when the cake would be done."

  "Tell him I've got a fridge full of his favorite beer to help wash it down," Logan called after her.

  I looked up at my husband and made a face. "Beer with cake?"

  "It's a man thing," he said with a shrug.

  Emma was already devouring her slice, picking it up with her bare hands and completely ignoring her fork. I was about to reprimand her when Logan reached down and did the same thing.

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Like father like daughter. No wonder I'm always cleaning sticky hand-prints off the walls."

  Logan leaned down with his frosting-coated lips and gave me a chocolaty kiss. I squealed in protest, but I didn't pull away.

  Mom returned with Dad in tow, and they tucked into their pieces of cake. I looked around at my happy family gathered on the patio. I placed a hand over the wee one who would soon join us, and couldn't believe what a lucky and blessed woman I was.

  THE END

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