Something Borrowed Ch. 03

Chapter 3: Dream Cum True

The astringent smell of bathroom cleaner was a distant distracter from the hard cock I was riding. It was getting harder and harder to arrange secret trysts with Brad Renier, my husband's father. Right now, Brad was sitting on a toilet in the third-floor bathroom of the library at the university where he worked. I was sitting on top of him, pressing his head against my breasts as he sucked the flesh in and out of his mouth. I bucked my hips against him, craving the release he could give me. We didn't have long until he would be missed in his office.

His teeth clamped down on my nipple, bringing a sharp gasp from me and driving any thoughts of inconveniences from my head. He grinned. "Should have known you'd like teeth," he remarked. "My little girl is such a dirty whore." He grabbed the nipple he had just bit and began twisting.

"Yeah, daddy," I moaned. "I love your hands on my tits. Oh, God, I'm going to cum so hard for you, daddy."

"Damn straight, you are," he grunted. "And I'm going to blow my load in your cunt while I'm biting your tits."

"Yes," I begged, guiding his head back to my breasts. His teeth found the sensitive flesh and I threw my head back in ecstasy. "I'm cumming daddy, you're making me cum harder than I've ever cum before."

He thrust into me so hard that he stood up, pressing me between him and the door of the bathroom stall. I wrapped my legs around him and tilted my pelvis up to take as much of him in as I could.

"Oh, daddy, I can feel your cum splattering into my pussy. It's so good."

He gave a muffled groan into my tits and bit harder. He dug his fingers into my ass and tilted me up even farther so that all of him was buried inside me. It was an eternity of pleasure before he released me gently. We looked at each other with exhausted contentment.

"I'm starting to wonder just how rough you like it," Brad said.

I giggled self-consciously. "Me, too."

My phone rang. Guilt assaulted me when I saw that it was Jeff. Brad read my face and took my phone before I could answer it.

"Don't worry, baby," Brad said caressingly. "He doesn't know you're here. He doesn't know that his father just pumped you full of cum."

I should have felt ashamed, but I felt aroused all over again. "Daddy, I love it when you cum in my pussy. It makes me so wet to think about it."

"That's my girl." He handed my phone back and got dressed. He had to leave quickly.

Then a wave of self-disgust crashed over me, but I tried to pretend everything was okay as I began rebuttoning my shirt. Sooner or later, I thought, this was going to have to end. I realized with shivering despair that it would almost definitely be later.

I got home to find an empty house. Jeff was working like he did every day. The house should have been a convenient love nest for Brad and me, but the last thing we wanted was the neighbors gossiping about Brad's visits... or the noises that erupted from my bedroom while he was there.

We had resorted to fucking in any random place we could find. Storerooms, bathrooms, janitor's closets... we had experimented with them all over the past month. One time I deep throated him in the stairwell of a hotel after he had fucked my tits. And one time, the best time, he had pulled me into an alley when I was on my way home. At first, I thought he was a mugger. A shiver went through me as I remembered the rough bricks against my skin as Brad plowed into me without mercy. Brad has this theory that I want someone to see me getting a cunt full of cock in public. I'm not saying I disagree.

Brad has become the father I used to fantasize about when I was a young girl first accosted by hormones. I never actually knew my own father, but I used to imagine that he would come tuck me in at night, and his fingers would dip under the covers to find the center of my need. I would feverishly move my own fingers over my clitoris as I imagined the lust and power that would be in my father's face. And now Brad had stepped into that role so perfectly that he was irresistible to me even though I was in love with his son.

Jeff called again, and his voice awoke parts of me that often disappeared when I wasn't around him.

"I have to go to a conference," he said after our small talk was out of the way.

"What? Where? When?" I was completely disoriented.

I could hear the smile in his voice. "Paris. It's supposed to last a week. I have to leave tonight."

A stone plummeted into my stomach. I wasn't sure I could stand the separation for a week unscathed. What if Brad destroyed the connection between us? "Do you have to go?" I asked.

"Yeah. Miss me?"

"Always." I sounded more sure than I was.

"Look, I think you should probably stay with my parents," he said. "I don't like the idea of you being home alone all that time. What if someone breaks in?"

I couldn't think of any rational reason to object without incriminating his father, so I agreed.

Diane and Brad were thrilled to have me. I hoped that Diane's warmth and motherly attitudes would dampen the passion between me and Brad. But when I arrived at the house, it was to find Diane lugging a suitcase down the stairs. She enfolded me in a hug and started fussing.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Oh, sweetie, I forgot to tell you that I have a women's retreat in New Mexico this week. We've had it planned for ages. But don't worry, even though I won't be here, Brad will be more than capable of keeping the crazed murderers from attacking you. I'm so glad you're here. You can cook for him. The poor man has no idea how to even microwave something without burning down the house. Oh, there's my ride!"

And she was gone in a flurry of pink fluffiness.

I stood looking across the living room at Brad, who was sitting casually on the couch. I wanted to crawl between his legs, pull out his cock, and run my tongue over its head, watching the shaft harden for me.

I resisted that impulse. I wanted to sit on the opposite end of the couch, take off both of our shirts, and spoon him against me. I could picture my legs wrapped around his waist, feel the smooth skin of his back against my stiff nipples, imagine the exquisite pressure of my tits squeezed between us. I wanted to run my hands over his full chest, down his firmish abs, dip my fingers inside the waistband of his jeans...

I resisted that impulse, too. And the one that told me to go upstairs, get on all fours, and wait for him to find me.

He was looking at me questioningly, seemingly innocent to all the pictures rushing through my head.

"You can sit down," he said. The tiniest sexual invitation permeated his voice.

"Look," I said. "I can't keep doing this. I love Jeff. You love Diane. I feel so good with you, but Jeff is amazing, too."

Brad's stare became firmer. "Why don't you take off that overshirt?"

I flushed. "Brad, did you understand what I meant?"

He got up and came towards me. The testosterone flowed off him in waves as he gripped my arm firmly. I shrieked and tried to back away even as a stab of excitement went through me. His voice held the sound of whips. "Quit squirming. I'm not going to fuck you right here on the damn stairs. Not that you wouldn't like that. Now maybe you don't want me to touch your tits right now, or at least you're going to say that you don't. It's obvious you want me to touch them, to squeeze them. Just look at how your nipples are poking out, begging for my mouth."

I blushed and started to protest.

"You said you didn't want me to do it, and I'll listen, but I'm going to look at them all I want. You've got on a cami under that shirt anyway. Don't be such a damn prude. Just yesterday you were grinding your cunt against me in a bathroom stall because you want me so much."

He ripped my shirt down the middle, drinking in the view of my cleavage thirstily. He plundered me with his eyes, and it left me breathless. I wasn't wearing a bra, only the white camisole, and I knew he could see the dark circles of my areolas through the fabric. I shrugged the remains of my shirt off and attempted to maintain some dignity.

"That's better," he finally breathed. "I'm going to look at your body as much as I want to, and when I tell you to do something simple like take off your damn shirt, you're going to do it or you can get the hell out of my house. As long as you're under my roof, you'll obey my rules."

I shivered, feeling a piercing need to press against him, but I resisted. "Yes, daddy." My voice was breathy.

His smile was flinty as he stepped closer to me. "That's better, baby. Don't you forget to obey your daddy."

Abruptly, he grabbed my wrists with one hand and pinioned them above my head forcefully. He pressed the length of his body against mine. His hardening cock was buried in my stomach, and despite my best efforts, I moaned and pressed against him invitingly.

His breathing became ragged. "Such a little whore," he breathed. Then he regained himself and stared down at me with icy eyes. "Don't ever call me Brad again when we're alone together, you little slut."

He ground his cock into my stomach to punctuate his remark, and it embarrassingly brought me to the brink of orgasm. "Yes, Daddy," I said, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew I wasn't just agreeing with his order. He released me and resumed his spot on the couch as if nothing had happened. I stood breathless on the stairs.

His tone was reasonable and friendly when he spoke again, like he had no memory of tearing my shirt from my body. "Sweetheart, why don't you come in here and let daddy look at your tits during the commercial break." He might as well have been asking me to show him my report card.

I went over and sat down on the floor in front of him while he stared at my cleavage.

"Shake them for me, hon."

I knew I was blushing furiously as I halfheartedly wiggled my shoulders.

"You can do better than that. Shake them like you want me to notice them bouncing around. Shake them like you did that day my son was finger-fucking you in the back seat of my van."

My blush deepened, but I did my best. They were confined by the fabric of the camisole, but as I shook them harder, I knew that sometimes he got a peek of my nipples.

"Yeah," he said. "That's real nice. You've got them bouncing around so hard. It reminds me of the first time I fucked you. Do you remember, baby?"

"Mmm," I moaned.

"Good. Now my show's back on, so you can entertain yourself however you want." His attention drifted for a moment and I started to relax, but then he turned back to me. "Any way that doesn't involve fucking yourself with anything besides my dick or my fingers."

Actually, I hadn't been thinking about doing that until he suggested it. I swear, all of the desire I'd been feeling suddenly concentrated itself in my pussy, and I gasped with the power of it.

He was smirking as he regarded me out of the corner of his eyes. Then he dramatically checked his watch. "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't notice the time. It's 8:30 and definitely time for sweet little girls to be in bed. I'll be up to tuck you in, don't worry."

I looked up at him with barely concealed desire. "Daddy, can I touch myself while I wait for you?"

He considered it. "You can play with your tits. Nothing else, honey."

I went upstairs with the distinct realization that one of my oldest fantasies was about to come true. I stepped out of the pants I was wearing and looked in the mirror for a moment. The camisole and the white cotton panties speckled with pink hearts that I was wearing were exactly what I would have worn to bed in high school. Something was different, though. I studied myself a moment before I remembered that I used to wear my hair in pigtails. I quickly braided my hair into two long ropes that fell past my shoulders. Then I climbed into bed and waited.

The linen sheets scraped against my skin maddeningly, and rubbing my tits gave me little satisfaction. It wasn't much longer before I heard his steps on the stairs.

He stood a moment in the doorway looking at me. Then he came to sit on the side of the bed. He lifted one of the braids and tugged gently.

"I love your hair like that." He used the end of the braid to tickle my throat, and I giggled and sat up, moving from under the covers so he could see what I was wearing.

His eyes flickered up and down my body. "Is my princess ready for a long, hard night's sleep?"

"Yes, daddy." I sank back below the sheets.

He grasped the part of the sheets closest to my chin and lifted as if he were really going to tuck me in. Then he paused.

"Baby, your nipples are still so hard."

"I know, daddy. I couldn't help it."

He looked at me sternly. He moved his hand under the covers, and my whole body tensed. He rested his hand on my belly for a moment as he looked into my face. Then he moved it lower, pushing it inside the waistband of my panties. I moaned in anticipation.

"Are you nice and wet for me, princess?" he asked.

"Yes, daddy, so wet."

He pressed his middle finger against my clit and rubbed. I jerked under the rotation of his finger. I pressed my hips up so that his finger lodged in the slick opening of my pussy. Then I came.

"That's my girl, cum for daddy," he repeated over and over as he kept rubbing my clit. He randomly dipped his finger back into the spasming opening, setting off an endlessly recurring orgasm.

"I've wanted this for so long," I heard myself gasp. "Never stop, God, daddy, never stop."

"Shh," he crooned. "You don't want mommy to hear you." I came harder. It was what I used to imagine my father would say.

When I finally lay spent, he released me. "Damn, your dad was a lucky man," he said.

"Well... he wouldn't know that."

Brad raised an eyebrow.

I sighed. "What you just did to me... that was my first sexual fantasy when I was younger. I never knew my father, but I used to imagine him doing all of that. I guess... I guess you're the closest thing I ever had to a father."

Brad stared at me for a moment. Then he pulled me into his arms. "Then I guess that I am one lucky man."

I nestled against him as he soothingly stroked my back. My eyes got heavier and I felt myself falling asleep on his chest. Dimly, I felt him pick me up and really tuck me in this time.

I revived enough to murmur, "Stay with me daddy. It's dark in here and there are monsters under the bed."

He laughed softly. "Anything for you, baby." He crawled into bed beside me.