Man of the House: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Sarah Rowling

  “You really shouldn’t skate in the house, Scottie,” Donnie replies, voice firm and unyielding.

  “You, uh, you gonna ground me?” she asks, playfully shoving him.

  “Don’t play rough with me, young lady. I was a top wrestler in college. I’m sure I could still hulk smash someone if I need to.” Donnie stops short as he speaks, suddenly realizing what’s actually going on. It occurs to him that Scottie’s intentionally flirting with him. And she can read the realization across his face the same way Cassy reads the hell out of some books.

  “When’s the divorce finalized?” she asks.

  “As far as I’m concerned, I’m divorced. If your mom wants to play hardball, fine. Let her.” He turns his back to her, tossing her a towel and a wash cloth.

  “So, why don’t you join me, Daddy?” Scottie replies, her voice a low purr. “In the shower, I mean.”

  “Scottie, we can’t.” He turns to face her finally. His voice and expression are serious, but she can see the bulge beneath his black slacks.

  “Why not? I’m almost twenty. Old enough to make my own decisions. And Mom’s not here to tell me what to do. And you’re not my daddy.” Delicious sensations run across her sweaty flesh. She feels delicious from the sun and the sweat, and now she’s staring at a delicious man.

  Chapter Five

  It’s almost as though he’s hypnotized, as though he’s found nirvana. She leaves it up to him to follow her into the master bedroom’s bathroom, tucked away in the privacy of what used to be her parents’ room. She unlaces her skates slowly, making him wait in anticipation. For a moment, he looks as though he might change his mind. But who would turn down Scottie? Scottie and her curvy body, thick thighs, and breasts that are a little more than a nice handful. Scottie, and her coffee-with-cream colored skin, deepened in color by hours in the sun.

  She steps into the shower naked, allowing the water to drum onto her back. Donnie stares at her for a few moments, still deciding, before he begins to unbutton his shirt. He reveals his taut, smooth chest rippling with muscled perfection. Then, his slacks come off. Then, his boxers, setting free his thick cock that demands attention as it points at her. Oh, yes. This is for her. Donnie steps into the shower, slowly putting his arms around her waist. She lifts her face up to his as his mouth presses against her lips, hotter than the shower could ever hope to be.

  He tastes like salt and cigar and rich booze, and she loves it. His mouth is warm and giving, and she thrusts her tongue into his mouth to taste him even more. His cock rakes teasingly against her belly, below her belly button as his hands venture down to grasp her ass, which is more than a handful. Her fingers trail their way across his hot, smooth flesh just like the water drops. His fingers find their way to her pussy, the warm fever of their touch causing her to gasp. They kiss deeply as he moves his fingers slowly between her legs.

  But there isn’t nearly enough room in the shower for the two of them. And they both know it. Donnie gazes into her eyes as he shuts off the water with force. Wordlessly, he picks her up, wrapping her legs around the trunk of his body, and carries her into the bedroom. He drops her on the bed, and Scottie opens her legs and plays with her pussy, running her own fingers across her clit. She’s wet and juicy. Her pussy is like her mouth when she chews sweet, fruity gum. Insatiable salivation.

  “Come get me, Daddy,” she says. “I’ve been… bad.” She bites her lip, tempting him further.

  “Fuck, Scottie. You love saying that, don’t you?” he growls.

  “Saying what?”

  “Calling me Daddy.”

  “Do you like it, Daddy?” she asks softly. And she knows he does.

  “You like playing rough?” he asks, his voice sounding gravelly with arousal and desire. “Because you’re playing with fire now.” Donnie slides his thumb along the sensitive, wet folds of her pussy. She arches her back as a pleasurable ache screams through her veins, making her muscles tense up. Donnie straddles over her, a God among men, positioning himself for penetration. He slides his cock in slowly.

  God, he feels bigger than what she’s used to, filling her to the hilt. For a moment, neither of them move, and Scottie enjoys the pressure that fills up her insides. Then, he begins thrusting. Slowly at first to get a rhythm. Then, he speeds up, pulling her legs over his shoulders. He’s so tall that her ass is off of the bed slightly. He pummels her, drumming his cock into her aching pussy. Scottie cries out as her muscles clench around him tighter, increasing the pressure.

  Donnie stares straight into her eyes, watching her respond to his movements. She writhes and twists from the pleasure that racks itself through her bones. She can’t help it. He feels too good not to wriggle. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she manages to say. It drives him up the wall, and he groans deeply, throwing his head back and revealing the strong column of his throat. Scottie sits up and mouths his neck. He’s fucking irresistible. She sucks on his skin, enjoying the remnants of the cigar’s scent still clinging to his flesh. The heat of his body feverishly pulses through her own skin.

  Finally, her body clenches and grips his cock, following a rush of sensations sparkling up and down her body, releasing her body from its erotic desperation. She falls back onto the bed, satisfied as Donnie continues thrusting. He hasn’t cum yet. His movements quicken so he can. Her body’s sensitive from the cumming, and she whimpers helplessly. Donnie finally releases, and Scottie feels the scalding squirts of his cum as it bursts from his cock into her body.

  “Don’t tell your mother,” he says breathlessly.

  The End of Book 1 of 5

  * * *

  Book 17: Two Girls, One Stepdad 2

  Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  This story has erotic themes and is suitable for adults, 18+ only.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter One

  Loud, tinny music blasts from Scottie’s phone, startling her awake. But didn’t she turn off her alarms since school was over? She picks up the phone to see her mother’s number across the screen. Shit. Mom’s calling. And Scottie hasn’t even enjoyed any coffee yet. The phone continues to ring as she sits up and stretches, looking around at her surroundings.

  Her eyes dart from wall to wall as she realizes that this isn’t her familiar bedroom. It’s her parents’ room! She leans back on the luxurious wall of pillows lining the headboard. So, it wasn’t all a dream. The shower, the hot water, his feverish touch, the taste of his tongue. It was real. She and her stepdad had sex.

  She’ll dial her mother back later, after she’s had time to process last night’s events. The conversation will likely take a sour turn, once her mother realizes that Scottie’s not staying at her grandparents. Her mother’s responses already mumble in her head. Not the first conversation anyone wants to have. And where’s Donnie, anyway? Oh, yea. He’s probably at the office, studying some case. Maybe it’s as lame as a drunk driver. Maybe he’s working on a case the size of that Casey Anthony one! Who knows?

  Scottie pulls herself out of bed, wills herself down the stairs, and fills the coffee maker with lovely, brown grounds. The same color as Donnie’s eyes. The earthy, warm aroma fills the room as she prepares her cream and sugar in her cup. It’ll be a great summer, as long as she has her way. Plus, there’s a nice apartment to look forward to for fall semester.

  As she sits on the mattress in her own bedroom, she redials her mother’s number. Better to get this over with as soon as possible. “Hello?” says her mother’s voice.

  “Hey, Mom. Just returning your call.”

  “Already sleeping in late I see. When’s the next time you work?”<
br />
  Scottie sighs, staring at the ceiling. “Good morning. It’s lovely to talk to you, too.”

  “I just want to make sure you’re not getting into any trouble over there.”

  “You have no idea.” Scottie sips her coffee, cautious of its heat. “So, what’s up? Donnie was saying you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes. Actually, I’ve moved in with my parents for the time being. And I’m wondering when they can expect you.”

  “They can’t,” Scottie replies flatly. “I mean I’ll visit. But that’s your problem.”

  “Scottie, you’re not too old for me to ground you, young lady…” Her mom is desperately attempting to seem menacing.

  “Actually, yes I am. I’m staying here. Less crowded.”

  “It’s not appropriate for you to be shacking up with an older man.”

  “You mean my stepfather. The guy your kind of invited to be my dad. For the third time in a row.” Scottie sighs, flopping down onto her bed.

  “Now, don’t give me lip, Scott. What do you say we go out to lunch today? Or maybe dinner? We can talk things over and work out a plan.”

  “I’m not coming to stay over there, Mom. Sorry. I’ll visit. I miss you. But, I’ve got my own things to do. And you’re never concerned about this crap being an inconvenience for me.” Scottie snaps her phone shut, and stares at the ceiling. There’s really no point in arguing more. And, even though she hates hanging up on people, she wouldn’t hear the end of it.

  Mom’s just that type of person. Something is always off, and she has to fix it. She can’t let it be. And if she can’t fix it, she’ll get rid of it. That’s why she’s been through three husbands. Some things can’t be fixed or stopped. And Mom, with her hair in a tight bun and safe, knee-length skirts, cannot deal with things being off-kilter.

  In the meantime, Scottie loves asymmetrical ways of living, the lack of balance. The more likely something makes people want to twitch, the more she likes it. And while she knows that completely avoiding a talk with her mother isn’t possible, she can damn sure put it off. Besides, she has plans today. She and Cassy are checking out the new, local bands today.

  Ever since they started college, they haven’t been to any shows in their hometown. They go to venues near the university, like Smuggle, The Drunken Unicorn, and Bombs Away to see the music scene. It’s significantly more prominent and more professional there. The locals actually have more appreciation for the bands and the homegrown music scene. Here, at home, people only care about typical radio hits, like Ellie Goulding. These artists are fine, but Scottie prefers the ruggedness of local music.

  Besides, they haven’t been able to spend much time together recently, except for their journey into town. Between final projects and exams, working, and packing up all their belongings, the girls exchanged few words. Cassy had a glassy-eyed look from so much studying, reading, and writing. Scottie had too much painting and sculpting to do to make any conversation. Occasionally, they had a cigarette break together. But beyond that, nothing but busy typing and brush strokes. And to think they live in the same room together.

  But, the days of dorm life will soon be over for both Scottie and Cassy. And Scottie figures that they can talk about their options during the summer while they hang out. They both want a place together and within walking distance of the college, but something close enough to the downtown area for easy access to the music scene and the city’s night life.

  Scottie texts Cassy to find out what time they should meet up. It’s not quite noon yet, but Cassy has a habit of sleeping until about one or two p.m. Scottie can occasionally pull this stunt off too, if she stays awake late enough. She finishes the rest of the coffee in the pot and takes a shower. Now the real question: what the fuck should she wear into town? Should she go easy on the general population or wear nothing but harsh black and neon colors?

  Chapter Two

  Cassy waits on a park bench in front of the coffee house. Her usual abode during the summer. As usual, she’s easy to spot because she’s the only one with a book in front of her face instead of a phone or a computer. “Still working on that summer reading, huh?” Scottie asks, sitting next to her.

  “Always.”

  “I checked out some webpages for the local bands around here. Some are having practice today.”

  “Sounds perfect. I could definitely use some journalistic material to write about for the summer.” Her blue eyes gleam in the sunlight, and the bags that gathered beneath her eyes from hours of studying finally dissipated. “I also bought some new nail polish.”

  “Nail polish is like your kryptonite,” Scottie says. Personally, she prefers to stick to solid black nail polish. But Cassy loves the sparkling kind. She’s addicted to it. Every time Scottie sees her, each nail is carefully frosted with a fresh coat of glisten. “So, wanna get going?”

  “Sure.” Cassy stands up and puts her book in the small, frosted blue backpack she wears. “Where are we going to first? Which band?”

  “Probably Tribal Rose, since they practice at the venue and all. One of the members can probably give us some tips on where to go for the other bands I have on the list. I’m super excited to check out what’s fresh here. Remember high school? We’d go out every weekend and head-bang until our brains hurt.”

  “Those were the days. Now we can barely pull an all-nighter without dying the next day.” Cassy follows Scottie as the two begin walking down the street. The sky is painfully sunny with the midday summer light beaming down on them. A shiver of excitement runs along Scottie’s spine. Summer vacation is off to a great start. She got laid by Donnie, the Delectable Stepfather for starters. And now she’s band-stalking with her best friend for the first time in a long time.

  As they walk, Cassy’s arms rub against Scottie’s as she moves closer and closer to her friend. At first, Scottie dismisses it. Cassy’s probably walking just a little too closely, or swinging her arms a little too hard. She has a tendency toward awkward, blissful unawareness this way. And Scottie totally encourages it.

  But then, the tease of fingertips gets her wondering. The flutter of the pads of Cassy’s fingers grazing Scottie’s palm consistently. An invitation? She can read it. Boys used to do this type of thing, a subtle request for permission to completely lace fingers. And now, Cassy’s doing it. Scottie moves away a little, still not completely sure of what it means. Then again, Cassy did tell her about this new attraction to girls the day before. But, no. Cassy’s not that obvious. They’re best friends, besides that.

  And as Cassy doesn’t move any closer or chase Scottie’s hand, Scottie decides that she’s just overthinking it. Now way is Cassie trying to hit on her. The two finally get to the venue together, the hole-in-the-wall cave of an entrance. Two double doors stand guard. And as they get out of the car, the clash and clang of train wreck music greets the pair. Scottie sucks in a deep breath. Home, sweet home. Nothing like it. She’s missed it.

  And hey, didn’t she and Cassy used to hold hands anyway? Why couldn’t they now? Scottie grabs her friend’s pleasantly moist, soft hand and leads her into the building. Case is behind the soundboard. The band busts their way through a new track they’ve written recently. Scottie glances over at Cassie. Her friend beams at her, pale, soft skin with dazzling eyes and an easy smile. She looks pretty today, glowing even. Maybe she really is in love with someone.

  “Hey, ladies!” yells Michael from the small stage at the front of the room. “What’s up?”

  “Came to see if you guys lost your magical dragon-fighting powers,” Scottie replies, approaching the stage. “At least you guys don’t suck as much as you used to back in the day.”

  “Don’t be a player hater, Scott. Negative Nancy.”

  Michael and his lame comebacks. Scottie had genuinely missed it. She wonders if she could ever talk Donnie into attending a show with her. Well, maybe not one here at The Sleepless. Maybe one where she’d be living in Shepherdsville, her college town. A little more esteem and quality.
Fewer high school bands, more people who actually did it for a serious living. Refined.

  Here, in Waxton, the scene was trashier. Not in a bad way though. But the music sounded as if it could railroad its way through walls or hit people like a fucking brick. Made for sharp, edgy painting. “Hey, Cass,” Scottie says. “Think I should do some painting while I’m here?”

  “Couldn’t hurt,” she replies. “I’ve always loved your work.” Cassy squeezes Scottie’s hand and winks at her. Her azure eyes linger on Scottie, but not just her face. They travel along her body quickly. Still savoring the familiar curves. Scottie can tell. It’s how men look at her. How Donnie looked at her the night before.

  “So, Cassy. When were you going to tell me about this mysterious lady friend of yours?” Scottie asks suddenly. But, just as she speaks, the band begins practicing again, crashing forcefully into the next song on their practice set. Scottie and Cassy suddenly glance over to the small, low stage where the guys rock out, slamming their heads up and down to the beat of the smashing drums behind them.

  But Scottie can’t quite pay attention to the performance. She’s beginning to wonder just how strong her friend’s feelings for her are. And, who the hell is this mystery woman that has gotten Cass so hot and heavy recently? The girl’s all bugged-eyed and shaky kneed all of a sudden. She’s always been kind of weird and aloof. But, now, Scottie has a million questions she wants to ask. Maybe she doesn’t know her best friend so well after all.

  Chapter Three

  After tracking down practice sessions for a couple of hours, Cassy starts whining about being hungry. And Scottie has to admit, she’s pretty ravenous herself. They stop at the tiny café in the center of downtown, a restaurant called, Tin Roof Café. Dinner time it is. Once they take their seats, Scottie heads for the restroom to text her mother and wash her hands. She wants to go ahead and make plans for lunch tomorrow, if Mom’s up for it. She doesn’t care to drag it out much longer. Doesn’t want her mother’s feelings hurt either. But who wants to confront stuff like this?