Age Gap Romance: Best of Penny Wylder

by Penny Wylder

  I can feel the entrance to her throat, with my cock. I’m so close that I’m going to lose it. I’m seconds away from coming, when she pulls me out of her mouth with a mischievous look. “You wanted to know what I watch?”

  “Yes,” I say, clearing my throat.

  She blushes, but I can see the burst of confidence that she’s having and I’m not going to interrupt it. “Sometimes I watch those videos…where…she can take everything. And I think it’s so sexy when you can see the cock in her throat. I want to do that.”

  “Fucking hell,” I say. “That’s so hot, I can’t even tell you.”

  Nicola licks the tip of my cock, making it jerk, and she gives me a sassy smile. “I know I may not be able to do it at first, but I want to get there. I want to feel your cock all the way in my throat.”

  “You’re already well on your way,” I say, groaning as her mouth meets my skin again. I can’t hold myself back anymore. Once again tangling in her hair, I guide her back down onto my cock. Deeper and deeper, until I feel the beginning of her throat again. “I’m so fucking close,” I tell her, “and I want to see how far you can go. Relax as much as you can.”

  She does, and I ease forward a little. The head of my shaft slips into her throat, and the world goes white. I pull back, and thrust in again, fucking her mouth steadily and smoothly. “I’m coming.” It’s the only warning that I can give her before I explode across her tongue. My own heat surrounds me in her mouth, and I have to force myself to be quiet and not scream my pleasure for all to hear.

  Everything I have I pour into her, and Nicola doesn’t flinch. No, she sucks harder. The orgasm sizzles through my veins like lightning and fire and my knees are weak now.

  Nicola’s eyes are huge as she looks up at me, and while her eyes are locked with mine, she swallows. I’ve never been able to describe why that simple act is so fucking arousing. But it is. The very idea that she’s willing to taste me and take it all makes the pleasure that much deeper.

  Even though I came, my cock is still hard, and I know exactly what to do with it. I pull Nicola up off her knees and bring her with me the couple of steps to the couch. I pull down those little shorts and trace her ass with my fingers. “I need you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay, after yesterday?”

  Nicola moans as my fingers drift towards her pussy. “I don’t care. Fuck me please.”

  Yanking her body back against mine, my cock is perfectly settled between the cheeks of her ass, and she has nothing else but the sweatshirt—my sweatshirt—on. “I don’t have a condom,” I whisper against her neck. “I thought that we’d end up back at my place before any of this happened.”

  “Do it,” she says, voice breathy. “I’m on the pill, and for obvious reasons, I’m clean.”

  “Me too,” I tell her. “I haven’t been with anyone in…years.”

  Since before I left. I tried, and it never felt right. I was too caught up in everything, and in the back of my mind I knew that she was waiting for me. And to sleep around felt like I was cheating, even if we weren’t together.

  My hand and I have gotten very comfortable with each other over the last four years.

  “Remember to keep quiet,” I tell her, bending her over the back of the couch. I have perfect view of her tits down my sweatshirt, and she’s so wet that when I find her entrance, I slide inside with ease. Nicola moans into the couch pillows.

  Yesterday was slow, but today is fast. It’s what we both need, and I don’t hold back. Locking my hands on her hips, I pound into her, unleashing all the pent up lust and need that I’ve been holding back. The sound of our skin clashing together is loud, and combined with the muffled sounds of her voice, I’m almost ready to come again. Holy shit.

  She’s so tight, I can’t take it. And now that there’s no barrier between us she feels even tighter. It’s like being encased in molten heat. I speed up, driving into her with blinding speed, driving us both towards the precipice of climax.

  It comes so fast that it almost knocks me off my feet. A second roaring orgasm that spirals down my spine and out of my cock and into Nicola. Her stifled moans get louder, and her pussy crashes down onto me, lost in her own orgasm. A feeling of true satisfaction floods me. I’m inside Nicola. Not just my body, but my seed. We’re connected in a different way.

  It feels primal and messy and carnal. A bond that’s deeper than we can consciously articulate. And along with that, a feeling of possession. Nicola is mine.

  We’re both breathing hard, and I lean into her, wrapping my arms around her. Slowly, we catch our breath together, still connected. Her pussy is still spasming, and there’s no part of me that wants to leave her body.

  That is, until I hear the door to the basement open. “Nicola?” It’s Valerie’s voice, and my blood goes cold as we both freeze. This is not the way I wanted them to find about this. But I can’t move, even though my cock is buried in her daughter.

  To her never-ending credit, Nicola sounds perfectly normal when she speaks. “Yeah, Mom?”

  “I made you some tea. Also, Dad and I are going to make breakfast, do you want any?”

  “Umm…no thanks. I have plans, but I’ll be up in a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  Sweet relief floods me when I hear the door shut. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah,” Nicola says. We fall apart from each other, both catching our breath for a moment. “I’m glad I already did my make-up. I can just throw some clothes on.”

  “How do you want to play this?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  I smirk. “Me. Being here.”

  “Don’t worry,” she says, pulling up her panties and stepping out of her shorts. “I’ve got it.”

  I’m sad to see her take off my sweatshirt, but I’m treated to a view of her perfect breasts in the process, so I’m okay with the tradeoff. In less than five minutes she has jeans and a shirt on and looks pretty damn normal after what just happened.

  But she didn’t change her panties, and that brings a smile to my face.

  “Ready,” she says.

  I grab her and pull her against me. “Let’s go see your parents,” I say, and lean in so I can whisper in her ear. “While my cum is still dripping out of you.”

  Pink stains her cheeks, but her eyes go dark. She likes it, and I’m again filled with that smug satisfaction that comes with pleasing a lover.

  She leads me up the stairs, and as we step out of the door, I’m very careful not to touch her. I have an inkling about how she’s going to spin this, and it needs to be all business.

  “Morning,” she says breezily as she walks into the kitchen—the same kitchen that we shared our moment in four years ago. I pause in the doorway, waiting for Bruce and Valerie to notice that I’m here. They’re both sitting at the breakfast table with coffee cups and newspapers. “Morning,” I say.

  Bruce’s head snaps up. “Tristan. What are you doing here?”

  “I asked him over,” Nicola says smoothly. “Since I left work early yesterday, and there’s so much to catch up on since Cynthia resigned, I didn’t want to wait until Monday to get a handle on things. We didn’t want to wake you, so we worked in the basement for a bit.”

  “Oh,” Valerie says, a slight frown clouding her face. “Okay.”

  Unease settles in my stomach. No matter the circumstance in the past, I’ve always been greeted warmly here, and this feels weird. Granted, I surprised them. I do feel bad about the deception, and I make a promise to myself to work this out soon. Even if we’re not as close as we once were, I still consider Bruce to be my best friend. I don’t want to lie to him for long.

  But on the other hand, I’m planning on being with Nicola forever. I’m not sure how she feels about that, even though I told her that I was going to marry her. But if I am going to marry her, then my allegiance will have to be to her and not to Bruce. It already is.

  “Settling in okay?” Bruce asks.

  “Yea
h,” I say. “After we’re done at the office, I’m planning on doing some more unpacking. A couple more days and I should have it taken care of.”

  “That’s good.” He seems unsettled that I’m here, so I try to look as relaxed as possible. What does he see when he looks at me right now? Is there something I’m giving off that lets him know the truth?

  Nicola moves around the kitchen with grace and confidence, not a hint of what just happened on her face or in her movement. She takes the tea that’s been made for her and pours it into a travel mug. “We’re going to go to the office for a bit. I’ll be back later.”

  She’s the one that leaves the kitchen first, and I’m left standing there with Bruce and Valerie. I wave a little lamely. “Good to see you guys.”

  “You too,” Bruce says. He smiles, but it’s not quite a normal smile. Nothing I can do about that.

  I follow Nicola out, and my chest doesn’t ease until we’re out of the house. “That was…awkward.”

  She grins. “I think it went fine.”

  “They didn’t exactly seem happy to see me.”

  “Oh, that’s just them. They have a routine on Saturday morning, and seeing you probably just threw them off a little.”

  “That’s good. Do you really want to go to the office?”

  “For a couple minutes,” she says. “At the very least I need to pick up my car. If you dropped me off later too that might be a bit much for them.”

  “Agreed.”

  Despite the awkwardness, it feels good to take her hand as we walk to my car. We’re going to figure this out and make it work.

  7

  Nicola

  The door to my lab opens, and I swear that I can tell that it’s Tristan even before I turn around. And my guess is confirmed when hands wrap around my waist. We’re very careful when we’re at work, but he still manages to find small moments to express his feelings. It’s one of the things that I love about him.

  It’s Friday again, and I’ve been dreading the weekend. Because on the weekend, it’s harder to hide. There’s no guarantee that I’ll see him like I do during the work week. And I’ve even been staying later than usual. Partially because this orange and basil flavor still isn’t fucking working, and partially because the experience of being fucked on a lab table is one that I really like.

  I like it so much that I think it’s worth the thorough cleaning that I have to do when we’re finished.

  “How are you?” he asks, mouth finding that elusive crease at my neck and shoulder that never fails to make me shiver.

  “Frustrated,” I admit.

  “What’s going on?” He lets me go and circles the lab table so that he’s across from me.

  I sigh. “It’s just not working. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much trouble with a flavor, and I need to have something by the end of next week for that focus group. If it’s not finalized by then, I’ll probably have to scrap it.”

  “Okay, so what’s not working?”

  Shaking my head, I hold out the latest custard sample for him to try. “The balance isn’t right. I keep trying to get it so that the orange hits first and then the basil hits as a second wave. So that aromatic sensation is the aftertaste. But it’s not right.”

  Tristan lifts the little cup to his lips, and I take the chance to admire his lips, and the way his throat moves as he swallows. I still can’t believe that we’re together and it’s real. But every day that goes by it feels more solid.

  “Mm,” he says. “I see what you mean. The transition is a little harsh.”

  “Yeah. I’ve tried every ratio that I can think of. Tweaking it down to the literal drop, and it’s still not working.”

  He smiles. “I know that I’m not the flavor creator, but can I try something?”

  “At this point I’m desperate,” I say. “So yes. Feel free.”

  Tristan has spent enough time around me in the lab at this point that he knows where things are kept and the basic procedures. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he comes back around and looks at the latest formula in the computer. One of the best things about this lab is the flavor machine. It has extracts of almost every flavor imaginable, and if it doesn’t have it, we can get it.

  It also has an interface where you can arrange the flavors, so it puts together the formula in a molecular pattern so that it hits the way you want it to. And then it will spit it out.

  Sometimes I start with mixing flavors by hand while I’m in the initial experimentation phase. It’s fun to get my hands dirty a little bit, and it’s faster.

  Tristan doesn’t make too many changes from what I can see, but when I try to look at what he’s doing he just smiles and slides his body so I can’t see the screen. I roll my eyes and grab a drink of water. I sit down at my desk to wait, and it doesn’t take long.

  “There,” he declares. “I want to see how that tastes, but if it doesn’t work, I won’t be offended. It’s just an idea.”

  “I’m sure it will be great.”

  He leans back against the lab table. “Probably not, but at least it gives me an excuse to be in here with you.”

  I smile, but I’m starting to feel the exhaustion that’s come with this week. Working on this—and some of the other experimental flavors I’m developing for our expansion—and staying late with Tristan is starting to wear. I wouldn’t take it back for the world, but I’m tired.

  And it’s the fact that nobody knows that’s the problem. If people knew, I could just go home with Tristan and we wouldn’t have to work so hard to find time together. I’ve got to tell my dad soon. I have to. I think that he’ll understand. You can’t help what your heart wants, and I want Tristan with everything that I have in me.

  “I have a question for you,” Tristan says.

  “Sure.”

  “You like this job, right?”

  I nod. “I really do. Why?”

  “I don’t remember this being what you wanted to do.”

  “Well, I never really had a solid plan for a dream job. I wanted culinary school, so that’s what I did. And that’s perfect training for this, and it’s so much fun.”

  He looks at me in that way he has. The way that tells me he knows that I’m not saying everything. “But?”

  I press my lips together without saying anything. There are a lot of thoughts that have been brewing in my head since he’s been back, and I haven’t fully thought through everything. This is dangerous territory that we’re in.

  “What’s your favorite thing to cook?”

  “I don’t have a favorite thing,” I say, “because my cooking is a lot like this. I love to experiment until I get the perfect result, and then I write it down. I love to cook for people because it’s always a little different, and you get to have that journey with them, whether or not it’s good or bad.”

  He nods. “That’s why you like the focus groups.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But in this setting I imagine you don’t get nearly as much a reaction to your creations as you would like.”

  “That’s not true,” I say, immediately protesting. “We get a lot of really lovely letters from people. And some not-so-lovely letters too.”

  Tristan crosses his arms. “You and I both know that that’s not the same.”

  I sigh, taking another sip of water. “What are you getting at? It’s not exactly like you to beat around the bush.”

  “I just want to know if you’re happy here.”

  I’m not sure that this is a path that I want to go down right now, but I take a couple seconds to think about it. I definitely enjoy my job, and not everyone can say that. That’s a good thing. But am I happy? Sure. “I’m happy enough. I like being here with you.”

  Tristan just cocks his head. “What does that mean?”

  “I mean…” I sigh. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about this too much, so I’m struggling with the words. I do like my job, and I do like the work I do. But now that you’re here, and now that this might a
ctually happen…” I trail off, not sure where I’m going but choosing to push forward anyway. “I feel really lucky that I was in a position to have this opportunity. But I might have been looking for a reason to stay in Leighton City.”

  He winces. “Because of me?”

  “I was holding on to hope, and I didn’t want to give that up.”

  Tristan is very quiet. “I don’t think I’ve said it properly. I am so sorry, Nicola. Walking away like that—even if it was what I felt I had to do—it was wrong. You deserved so much better than that, and I was a selfish asshole not telling you to move on without me. You could have been far away from here by now.”

  I frown. “Do you think I regret it?”

  “I think that I’m going to continue to find out all the ways that my selfishness affected you.”

  Shaking my head, I stand and cross to him. “Don’t take all of that on yourself. It was you, but it wasn’t only you. I was in school for a couple of years after you left, and after, I wasn’t ready to leave. Even if I had known that I would never have a chance with you, I don’t know that I could have gone. This is the place that I’ve always known, and it would have taken me a while to figure this out anyway.”

  I lean up on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly, throwing caution to the wind, and the chime on the machine buzzes, startling us both. He smiles then, though it’s still a bit haunted. “Shall we try it?”

  “Bottoms up.” I pour two samples from the dispenser and hand one to him. We taste it at the same time. At first it’s the same familiar orange flavor that I’ve perfected—both sharp and creamy, like the orange you might taste in a creamsicle. But then it’s different, the flavor lightens into more citrus, lemony and bright before it fades into the basil.

  It’s not perfect, but it’s well on its way. “Holy shit,” I say, beaming at Tristan. “What did you do?”

  “Added lemon as the secondary flavor. You need something in the transition, otherwise the two flavors don’t connect.”

  “This is really good,” I tell him. “This is something that I can work with.”