Welcome Home, Petbysan_hoshiko©
Parker always wears a tie when he comes to pick me up even though he's working from home these days as a consultant; he knows how I like to see him in a suit and tie, so proper and remote, it makes what will eventually follow that much more of a thrill and I like how long it takes to undress him.
I pretend sometimes it is me seducing him instead of the other way around, as if I hold some secret power he can't resist, that just being around me cracks his tough business exterior and what's inside is pure desire for me. Sometimes this seems true, he gets a look in his eye as I unknot his tie, slip it loose and work my way down the buttons of his shirt.
The one time I surprised him at his office with a mid-day visit, he looked so good to me, I couldn't resist slipping his belt and trousers open and taking him into my mouth. He just stood there stunned by my boldness, by the presence of his co-workers on the other side of the door, but he relaxed in no time as I worked my tongue down the length of his cock, deeper and deeper till the fat tip pressed against the back of my throat.
I loved the look of him, still buttoned and secured with a tie, but rapturous and aching, watching the length of his prick sliding easily between my lips. He smiled down at me, his hips quivering, and in a matter of minutes I had brought him off with my inappropriate behavior.
I hear my house mate inviting him in, wrongly identifying him as my father. Parker plays along, we decided this would be easier in advance, if we just pretended everything was what it seemed from the outside.
I grab my bag and take the stairs two at a time just as my house mate is on her way up to tell me he's here. I have to restrain myself from leaping into his arms but I can't resist a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, a silent inhale to catch the smell of his aftershave and his body beneath. The effect his physical presence has on me after two weeks of being apart is incredible; I can feel my heart jumping, and the distant, warm ache between my legs.
We drive half the first hour home in giddy silence punctuated now and again with breathless phrases-- "I missed you so much!" "I can't wait to get home." We stop at a small Greek restaurant for dinner and I babble about school, the classes I like best, my professors and classmates, and all the while he listens carefully, beaming at me. He tells me about work, the changes that have come about, and how he likes working from home less than he thought he would.
"The house is so empty without you." He sighs. "Everything reminds me of you." He's smiling, though and I know he doesn't resent the fact that I decided to go away for school, he knows it's best for me in the long run; I'm a spirit who won't be tamed and he's come to simply be thankful for the time we spend together.
He asks if I've met any boys, smiles slyly as he sips his water, and I know he's curious as to what my social life is like without him.
"Not really ... but my drawing teacher is pretty cute."
"Oh? A nice young professor is he? Giving you private drawing lessons I bet."
He smiles, teasing me, and I sink into a familiar feeling of being loved, utterly, endlessly loved by him. I smile back, feeling woozy and warm.
"Oh no. He's OLD. Like 40 or something. And he calls me 'Pet' and pats my ass when he walks behind my drawing board." I make him laugh using the joke name Parker gave me to make us look more like a father and daughter. He knows I'm smart enough to keep my head, and hold tight to my self-respect. But I wonder if he knows how devoted I am to him, how he's become the standard that every boy or man I meet must measure up to, or how many have already failed.
"Ready to go, Pet?" he asks, winking. I nod and follow him out the door. It has started to snow, those dazzlingly large snowflakes that build up quickly covering everything with a clean layer of fluff. I wonder how much will accumulate and think fondly of snuggling inside for the whole weekend, wrapped in quilts and each others' arms and legs.
Two more hours till we're home. I can't wait to get there. We talk very little on the drive, mesmerized by the falling snow as it lights up in our headlights. Every once in a while I turn to watch him as he drives. He is so handsome it takes my breath away and makes me quiver inside.
At night, away in my apartment at school, it is his face I see when I close my eyes. I cannot often resist the urge to remember his skilled fingers and mouth, his patience and pace, and how he could work me up to a shattering orgasm, so intense my moans would turn to tears and I'd come almost sobbing with joy.
"You ok?" He asks casting me a funny look. "You made a noise."
I can't help but blush, caught in my memory. I smile and assure him I've never been better, just can't wait to get home.
We pull into the drive and walk hand in hand to the front door. Once inside we avoid each others' eyes, our arousal distinctly awake since we'd passed through the doorway. He takes my coat and lines up our snowy shoes on the mat on the floor and hand in hand again we walk to through the house, stopping to turn on lights, to switch on the heat.
He leads me to the formal sitting room where a bottle of wine and two glasses have been placed on the glass-topped table. A fire is waiting to be lit in the fireplace and as he stoops to set the kindling alight I recline on the sofa putting my feet up on the back.
He glances at me and smiles. I slide my hands down my thighs and begin to creep my long, woolen skirt up my legs. He watches as he uncorks the wine and pours two glasses, his eyes never leaving the rising hem of my skirt. I notice he's already hard, his cock straining the fabric of his pants. I can't help but smile.
He sits down in a wingback chair, absolutely focused on me, the two wineglasses still in his hands. I sit up and begin to undress for him. This is what he wants, I've learned to read that look in his eye. I pull the heavy sweater over my head, unzip my skirt and stand before him in a slip and my black cotton tights.
I watch him swallow a taste of wine, his eyes sparkling and warm. As I slide my tights down I study him for a moment. He seems an average man, middle-aged and well-dressed, a typical upper class New York man. He could be someone's husband, someone's father, or the kindly, bookish uncle who takes you to museums on the weekends.
And what am I? I wonder as I slip each foot from the tangle of stocking. The naughty niece who can't help but tempt.
He takes another drink of his wine as I approach him, his eyes locked on mine. I take a sip from his glass and set it on the table behind me then lean close to him and kiss his forehead, his eyes, each cheek and his chin before I open my lips over his. As we kiss I slip my fingers through the knot of his tie and begin to undress him.
His hands roam all over me, enjoying the shapes of my body through the satin slip. We continue to kiss teasing our tongues together, feeling the smoothness of teeth, the gentle nip of a bite. I slip each arm from his jacket sleeves and press him back against the chair's padded surface. I climb into his lap and begin to unbutton his shirt.
He watches me with a half-smile, looking somewhat drunk though I know it's on me, not the wine, and he murmurs my name sweetly as I slide my lips across his throat. I work my way down, untucking his shirt and spreading it open, kissing as I go. I loosen his belt, unzip his pants and place one small kiss on the bulge of his erection before I slip his socks off one by one.
I reach out my hand and bring him to a standing position. I lead him to the sofa where I'd reclined earlier and assume the same position, laid out on the plush surface with my leg thrown over the back, the length of my slip hiding my open legs. He removes his shirt completely and kneels at the side of the sofa, knowing exactly what I want.
"Such an impudent young lady." he whispers as he trails one hand along the leg that rests on the surface of the couch. I shiver under his touch, and the look in his eye is pure desire. As he creeps his hand upwards I trace a circle over one satin-covered nipple. He smiles watching me enjoying myself and lays his palm against the flesh of my thigh.
He turns his focus to what he has been uncovering and I watch his eyes get glassy as he brings the hem of my skirt high enough to reveal my open legs and neatly trimmed pussy. My lips are full and wet already and the scent of me fills the air.
He moves closer, still pushing the fabric of my slip over my hips. With one hand he lifts my leg, spreading me open, and slides it over his head to rest on his shoulder. He leans forward, closer to my cunt, and kept his right hand pressed against the leg that was over the back of the couch.
I knew I am wide open like this and that he is mesmerized by the shape of my cunt lips, the smell of my wetness. It made me ache to see him staring like that, his face inches from touching me. I slide my fingers under the satin of my slip and touch my bare nipples. I watch intently as he moves closer and closer to my cunt.
I can feel his breath against my thighs, the prickle of his cheeks, then the warmth of his open mouth just over my cunt. He lays his tongue flat against my outer cunt lips and licks me slowly and firmly from bottom to top. I moan involuntarily, pinching my nipples a bit.
He takes his time, licking just the outside of me, his tongue darting in between my lips just once or twice, deeper each time. I relax into his caresses, my body jolting now and again as his tongue meets my clit or slides close to the entrance of my vagina.
I slip one hand down to touch his head, to urge him closer, and he looks up at me. We both smile. He uses his fingers to open the lips of my pussy and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my now exposed clit. He catches my eye and moves his head closer and closer, his tongue extended and poised just over my clit.
When he touches it I hold my breath and he moves so slowly, just caressing me with the tip of his tongue, teasing the little bud to a hardness that almost aches. He bends closer, his eyes still locked on mine, and takes my clit between his lips. He bites it gently and I hear myself exhale with a groan.
He takes it in his lips again and starts to suck. I run my fingers through his curly hair and press his face closer to let him know I approve. He moves lower and drives his tongue deep inside me, to fuck me with his tongue before moving back up again to focus on my clit.
Currents of electricity run through me, spreading out through my torso, swirling round my tits. His experienced mouth is so clever, never directly stimulating me, but bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm with every touch.
He brings me just to the edge of coming, his tongue working just around my clit, fingers gliding along the outside of my cunt, his warm breath painting my thighs. I can't help arching my back, fighting to get his tongue in me, to make me come, but I know he wants to be inside me when I come so when he lifts his face I merely sigh in mock frustration and grin at him.
He pulls me up, wipes his face and returns to the wingback chair. I help him out of his trousers and boxer shorts and tip him backward so he falls into the chair. He catches my wrist as he falls and I end up on top of him, laughing and breathless. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, pushing my tongue inside his mouth to taste my own cunt.
I climb into the chair and straddle him. There is enough room for me to spread myself across his lap and hang my legs over the chair arms. He holds me up, just hovering over his erection, and I tilt my hips so that I sink down over his cock, taking it all the way in, filling myself up. He closes his eyes and moans and for a minute we just sit there enjoying the sensation of being so close.
I begin to rock, tilting my body forward and back, just moving his thick cock around inside me, feeling the size and warmth of him. When he opens his eyes I have found a slow rhythm, rocking myself on his lap, and his glazed eyes show how pleased he is by my initiative.
He uses one hand to steady me as I move and with the other he lifts the front of my slip so he can watch my pussy working over his cock. He moans at the sight of my bare slit wrapped around him and begins to move against me.
I loosen the straps of my slip and slide my arms through. My breasts are bared for him, flushed pink from excitement, my nipples puckered and hard. The sight of them brings another moan from his lips and he starts to move faster still, both hands now clutching my hips, keeping my pussy clamped down over his cock.
I watch his face changing into that pained, intense grimace, his furrowed brow damp with sweat. He meets my eyes and whispers my name digging his fingertips into the flesh of my butt. He has a crazed look, but his eyes are full of love for me, only intensified by the lust that seizes him when I lean forward and tell him to fuck me.
He lifts me by the hips, pulling me fully off his cock, then pushes down again so he's filling me up once more. I steady myself with my hands on his shoulders and let him guide me over his cock, sliding up and down, each time his cock hits my cervix a little harder as we pick up speed. My tits bob slightly and I hear myself almost panting as my pussy fills again and again with his cock.
I can't help myself from whispering "I love you." I am so full of emotion. My limbs feel light and elastic, but there is a delicious tightness in my cunt, a longing, like the desire to stretch or yawn. I feel it creeping through me as he starts to lift and drop me as fast as he can.
He has not taken his eyes off me and is whispering my name in a throaty groan. Again and again he says it, almost begging, as he nears orgasm. I touch his face, his flushed cheeks, and surrender to the rhythm of our fucking. I am riding a wave of sensation as I ride his cock, my body feels like liquid fire and I feel the gentle tugging at my stomach, and each breast and deep inside my pussy.
He comes first, groaning loudly, his legs kicking out from under us, and as he slows his fucking I feel the throbbing of his cock and the thickness of his cum filling me up. He is panting, his face red and wet, and I lean against him kissing his cheeks, his forehead, all the creases near his eyes.
For a moment we rest like this and then I start to move against him, pressing my cunt against his still-hard cock, grinding myself against him. I reach down and open the lips of my pussy to touch my clit. He watches for a moment as I pinch and finger the hard bud, still swirling my hips against him, just feeling the fullness of my pussy with his cock intact.
He loves to watch me, loves to see me bring myself to orgasm, and I love his eyes all over me, following my fingers as they find all the secret pleasure spots. I am so close to coming. I can feel the electric sparks building in my pussy. I keep moving, fucking up and down, grunting as I do, and working my clit with affection.
He touches my breasts, pinches my nipples and in an instant I am coming, my head thrashing, body shaking. I grab at his head, slap at the back of the chair and curse as my cunt clutches his prick again and again. Even after my tremors have stopped I still glide up and down over his cock, enjoying the fullness, the incredible warmth.
He kisses me gently and strokes my hair. I feel him finally growing soft in me and sliding out. I want to take him in my mouth again, but I know he will not be ready for a few hours so I climb from the chair, reach behind and find our wine glasses.
He raises the glass and smiles.
"Welcome home, Pet."
Send private anonymous feedback to the author (to post a public comment instead).