The Single Dad: Girl’s Sexual Awakening

I could taste it on her tongue.

I moved faster, deeper, her hips meeting me, my thumb grinding against the highest point.

Circling.

Flicking.

Over and fucking over.

She squeezed my arm, tensing, bucking. “I’m going to come.” She said it against my mouth as though she was warning me.

But I knew.

Her clit was hardening. Her wetness was thickening.

Her sounds were getting even louder.

“Let me hear it,” I demanded. “Let me fucking feel it.”

That was all it took before she was shuddering against me, her pussy contracting, her moans filling my ears.

“That’s it, Sydney.” I gripped the back of her head, bunching her hair into my fist. “That’s fucking it.” I mashed our lips together. “Yes!”

The second she stilled, our eyes connected.

Our mouths separated.

Our breathing mixed.

My dick was so goddamn hard that all I could think about was lifting her onto the counter, spreading her legs, plunging inside her pussy, and fucking coming.

“My God,” she whispered. “No one has ever made me feel like you.” Her hands went to my face. “Ford, I …”

The feeling came out of nowhere.

Straight through my chest.

Like a thick fog that moved around me, preventing me from feeling anything other than guilt.

A regret so strong that everything began to sting.

“Don’t.” My spit felt like acid, going down my throat. I couldn’t stand myself. I couldn’t believe what the hell I had done. What I’d jeopardized. What I’d probably fucking ruined. “I’m sorry.”

Her hands left my face.

“Sydney, I’m so fucking sorry I did this to us.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“I fucked this all up. I told myself I shouldn’t do this, and I …” I couldn’t get my thoughts straight. I couldn’t even think. Breathe. “I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t thinking of Everly. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but this can’t happen again. It just … can’t.” I slid my fingers out of her pussy, but I didn’t move. I stayed close, caging her against the counter. “Forgive me, Sydney. Please forgive me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

There was emotion in her eyes.

I couldn’t take it-the pain, the hurt.

The sadness.

I cupped her cheek.

It was just for the briefest of seconds, but she needed to feel me.

To know I cared.

To know how goddamn sorry I was.

“Forgive me,” I whispered.

“I …” She held in her breath, staring, blinking. Waiting. “I should go to bed.”

I couldn’t say anything.

I didn’t trust myself.

I moved my arms back, giving her enough room to get by.

“Good night, Ford,” she said in the softest voice as she disappeared from the kitchen.

I watched her entire journey through the living room, her bare feet climbing the stairs until she was too far up to see.

I heard the click of the guest room door as it closed.

And I stayed right where I was, holding the wine to my mouth, doing everything I could to calm down my body.

To not climb those stairs.

To not knock on her door.

To not make another mistake that I wouldn’t ever be able to come back from.

If I didn’t get off, if I didn’t have an orgasm right this fucking second, that mistake was undoubtedly going to happen.

I downed the wine and headed for my room, locking the door behind me. Once I got to my bathroom, I turned on the water in the shower and stripped off my clothes, not even waiting for the temperature to warm before I stepped in.

I squirted some soap onto my hand and wrapped my fingers around my cock.

Tightly.

Like it was her fucking pussy.

And as the steam started to fill the large walk-in space, my fist rode down my shaft toward my balls and glided back toward my crown.

Pumping.

As I envisioned that tight, wet cunt.

The one I had tasted tonight.

The one that had come on my fingers.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The softness of the soap, the bubbles, just like Sydney’s wetness. The hold of my fist, like the narrowness as I plunged inside her.

My eyes closed, and I saw that gorgeous body.

That beautiful face.

Those long, lean, toned legs spread wide.

Just for me.

My balls were tingling, the sensation moving through them and into my shaft.

But I didn’t slow.

I sped up, and I increased my grip, moving as if I were thrusting into her pussy.

Until it was too much.

Until I couldn’t hold off a second longer.

“Fuck,” I breathed as I shot my first load. “Sydney …” I moaned, my wrist twisting up and down my dick, closing in as I neared my tip.

The second stream came bursting out.

But I kept up the same speed, like her pussy was fucking milking me.

The third shot came, and I was drained.

My eyes finally opened, showing me the hard, ugly truth …

I was in the shower.

The water scalding.

The reality of tonight, the pain I had caused, all unfolding in front of me.

I lifted my hand to my nose, hoping her smell would still be there.

But all I smelled was soap.

The scent of Sydney long gone.

SYDNEY

Ford: Everything going all right?

A

s I sat with Everly in the kitchen, rereading Ford’s text, positioned almost in the exact spot as the scene of last night’s crime, everything inside me began to warm.

A scene Ford now regretted.

A scene I couldn’t stop replaying in my head.

Oh God.

He’d briefly spoken to me this morning before he headed to the airport, reminding me of a few things he didn’t want me to forget while he was gone. The conversation was pointless; they were things we’d already discussed days prior. I was positive he was just testing my reaction, to see if I was angry or upset.

To see where we stood.

To see if I was going to walk out the door and never come back.

Things I would never do because I cared about him and his daughter, those feelings growing stronger each day.

What happened between us last night wasn’t all his fault.