The Father and the Bridesmaid

"Please," she said. It was all she could do to not grab his face and shove his mouth onto her clit.

"Please what, Michaela?"

"I surrender. Please lick me. Please kiss me. Please take me," she said. The pouting was gone. She whined. She was almost hallucinating with lust. Between having a long-time fantasy come true and his skill at playing her in every way, Michaela had never been more aroused.

Staying still for another moment, looking up at her. Unable to control herself, Michaela stretched her legs open and shifted her ass to inch closer. With a teasing grin and a warming exhale, he leaned in and kissed her dripping lips. Despite biting her lip, a scream still tore from Michaela's lips that could be heard down the hall outside.

Feeling his firm, soft, searching lips against her wet folds, his nose touching her clit, Michaela brought her hand to her mouth and bit the heel of her palm. Finally losing all control she slid her other hand into his hair, feeling the remnants of his hair product from his morning grooming crunch between her fingers and she pulled him towards her need.

Patrick took the hint and opened his lips around her clit. Michaela felt his chin slide between the folds of her pussy lips and his tongue feather her pearl from one side then the other. Her eyes shut at the pleasure. She went from wanting to scream to just needing to breathe.

She became so tense from the winding pleasure now she could not have screamed to save her life.

Lapping her bud back and forth with the perfect pressure, Michaela could almost believe she had never been licked before. Patrick was so good at giving her pussy what it needed, so skilled at playing her clit, it was as if no one had yet really gone down on her.

She was not the kind of girl who gets with other girls, but for a moment Michaela wondered if he gave head like a lesbian it was so fucking good. Less than a minute after he first pressed his mouth to her, Michaela felt all of the anticipation, all of her arousal and lust, all of his perfect masculine energy and soft talents wind around her tight and burst as she began to come.

Michaela felt the walls of her pussy clench and release, with such a sweet and perfect pressure she was sure she'd have shoved his cock out if it were buried in her. The muscles of her thighs began to quiver uncontrollably and Michaela felt her pelvis tighten and tremble as if a fist were inside squeezing every wonderful feeling in the world from her blood and nerves. Her head smacked the wall as she involuntarily fell back from the strength of the pleasure.

Even here Patrick was perfect. Michaela felt his arms still strong around her thighs, but his mouth pulled off just as the sensation hit its peak. He knew exactly when to quit and let the chain reaction of released nerves and wonderful spasms shock and ricochet through her body. Michaela sucked in air, panting out her joy. Just feeling her lungs expand and empty felt good. The orgasm was so hard Michaela could even feel it radiate through her scalp and into her hair.

The shock was so wide and full Michaela could not make a sound but for her panting. She was usually a screamer, but now her cries were strangled in her throat. Michaela could do nothing but hang on and feel it rush through her.

After long, quiet moments, she felt herself returning to normal. An astonished smile broke across her lips. Looking down at him, Michaela saw his face raised up, watching her. At that moment Michaela loved this man, and would do anything for him.

Seeing his face wet from me, Michaela collected her thoughts and after a few more breaths finally spoke.

"Stand up, stud," Michaela said, still buzzing in the afterwarmth of her orgasm.

With a lopsided smile, Patrick stood. Michaela slid off the desk, dropped to her knees and got to work

She was loving the image of her kneeling before him. She was going to enjoy pulling every open button, loosening every clasp, slipping off every shred of fabric, each stretch of leather, everything from him. Pulling off his shoes, Michaela slipped his socks off, her fingers sliding along the hair of his calves. Reaching up, she flicked open his cufflinks, then the buttons of his shirt as she rose before him.

He tried to catch her eye, but Michaela wouldn't have it. She was going to make him wait until he was threadless before their eyes met again. After unclipping the leather fasteners of his suspenders, Patrick's shirt fell away in a flutter of white and metal tuxedo buttons.

Then all that was left was his pants. Michaela stopped, turned her back to him and stood still.

"Unzip me."

His hands moved slowly up her back, stroking, massaging, until his fingers pinched the zipper pull and he dragged it down the curve of her spine. As her dress parted and fell, his big hands smoothed and kneaded the flesh of her back, warming her everywhere with his touch. His body was warm. Michaela could feel the heat of his blood through his palms.

Michaela grabbed the fabric at her thighs and pulled down. Shaking her hips back and forth, Michaela worked until it fell in a pool on the carpet beneath them.

Then she spun back around clad only in stockings and pumps. Her eyes fell to his crotch and the tent in the fabric Michaela found was a wonderful promise. Her fingers found the buttons of his pants, then the zipper. Before Michaela could prepare herself for finally seeing what she'd imagined so many times, there it was.

Patrick was so hard the elastic of his boxer briefs bowed out and Michaela could see the thick red crown of his cock. She could see the dimple and hole at its head and the shimmer of wet dew there. Falling to her knees she grasped his underwear and dragged them down his legs as she kneeled again.

As she descended, his cock bounced up as the elastic slipped by and his head hit against her passing breast. It left a tiny wet kiss on her skin. It felt hard and soft at once. The spongy head felt different than the boys she'd had, but still somehow just as good. Michaela could only imagine feeling it plunge into her.

Finally on her knees before him, Michaela wrapped a hand around his base, feeling his skin fill her palm. Her eyes found his as Michaela moved his cock in her grasp, pointing it towards her mouth.

Michaela wanted to say something--that she wanted to tell him she'd imagined this for years--that she wanted to suck him until every image of Lauren was replaced in his mind with her young form doing filthy things to his body--that she wanted to spend a whole week fucking him.

Finally, she had to force the jumble of thoughts from her head. Opening her mouth, Michaela watched his eyes grow soft and waver as he slid between her lips and she felt him fill her mouth.

The moan he made as her tongue slid along the bottom of his cock would stay treasured in her memory until the day she died. Hearing a man like him, weathered and strong, experienced and handsome, make a sound of total abandon and thorough surrender was the hottest thing she'd ever created.

Soon Michaela was sucking him deep, long, luxuriating in the feeling of his power under her control. She felt her lips and tongue press him with kisses and pull at his root with needful suction making her wet all over again. At once Michaela was surprised at how similar it was to younger men, but how much easier and relaxed it was.

As she continued, Michaela noticed another difference which drove her to distraction. She closed her eyes to feel every change with her lips.

Younger guys she'd sucked were usually very hard right from the start. They were ready to go and in Michaela's experience were quick to finish. Patrick's cock, on the other hand, grew noticeably harder, thicker and longer. Michaela wondered if it was age accounting for this, and she had a feeling it was. Under her control, wet and slick from what she was giving him, his cock went from very impressive to simply perfect.

After several minutes on her knees in front of him, his shaft felt tight as a drum. With her tongue, Michaela could feel the blood running through his veins. As Michaela sucked Patrick began breathing harder, more deeply, running his fingers along her cheek as she worked him.

Opening her eyes, Michaela saw him watching her with a mixture she could only describe as good hearted mixed with pure lust. It was a combination she was tempered to marry.

Seeing him watch her, Michaela gave him an impish wink. She felt his reaction in her mouth as his muscles quivered and his shaft jumped. He groaned out a hungry sound.

"Oh, God. What am Michaela going to do with you?" Patrick said.

Pulling her mouth off with a smack, Michaela slid his shaft against her cheek. "I have some ideas. Get on the bed."

Patrick looked like he wanted to say something but could not form the words. He was silent as he sat on the bed and reclined back, watching her with such a happy gaze. Seeing his body stretched out strong, virile and cut, his every attribute wrapped in his weathered frame, a dusting of gray at his temples, a few curled on his chest, gave her a new thrill of having her fantasy come alive. Even though he had made har come once, the shock of Veronica's father, here on her bed, nude and waiting for her, gave Michaela a jolt of pure power.

Michaela stepped forward, climbing onto the bed and straddling his thighs. Leaning down, Michaela pressed her lips to his chest, feeling the strength of his muscles under her brushing kisses. Finding his nipple, Michaela swirled her tongue around it and sucked it into her puckered lips.

He let out a groan she'd never heard, bringing his hands up her legs to crush her ass in a tight squeeze. Feeling him begin to lose control was fabulous.

"Patrick," she said, keeping her lips pressed around his nipple even as she spoke. "I don't know what you usually do, but I'm on an IUD. If it were up to me..."

At this Michaela slid forward on his thighs, pressing her wet mound to the base of his cock, wrapping her hand around him in a controlling grasp.

"...And I think it is up to me, I want you to fuck me. We can use a condom if you want," she continued, a pout returning to her voice, "but I don't want to."

Through the last few words, Michaela rocked her hips, sliding the base of his cock and the bottom of his shaft between her wet lips. Michaela could see his control slipping, the gentleness fading slowly from his eyes and a new, naked hunger replaced it.

"I can do that," he said with a smile in his voice. But there was another tone. He was up to something. As he slid his hands up her legs and over her curving sides, he said, "And God knows I appreciate a woman on top. I can see I'm going to love being with you in a million ways..."

"But?" Michaela said, eager for him to spring his surprise.

"But first I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to have to take it."

At that, his hands slid up under her arms. Closing his grip, his thumbs pressing into her breasts and racking her nipples, Patrick pushed her sideways onto her back. Before Michaela could react, he was up and standing, pulling her legs apart and dragging her to the edge of the bed.

Michaela giggled as he shoved her around, loving every controlling motion as he put her where he wanted. Feeling him handle her, her inner brat squirmed to fight back. He wasn't having it. Michaela felt her legs swing out as his hands closed on her ankles and his cock pressed down firmly at the split of her pussy.

She wanted to fight, but she also wanted him to win.

With her legs held open by his hips and pelvis pressed to her, Patrick took one of her wrists and pinned it at her side. She moved to press her free hand to his shoulder, ready to push, but Michaela was too late. With his free hand he took the trunk of his cock in between two fingers, positioned his head against her opening, and sunk in like he owned her.

Feeling him spread her open and spear in with his gloriously firm flesh, Michaela was his. Her hand on his shoulder went from pushing to grabbing to pulling him into her. Patrick came down onto her, his mouth finding hers even as his pelvis slid away then smacked back into her, his cock a perfect arm of muscle and skin pinning her into the bed stroke after stroke after stroke.

It felt so good, Michaela lost her mind.

"Oh, Mr. Ravenwood, you feel so fucking good," Michaela said, feeling naughty. "Fuck me. Fuck my young little pussy."

Michaela felt like a queen as he took her, but playing with the years that separated them gave the moment a special wickedness.

"You can call me Patrick, Ms. Birch," he teased, emphasizing his words with hard, delicious, punching strokes.

"Fuck me, Patrick," Michaela said in a pouty, girly voice.

Michaela was insistent, thrusting back with every syllable. She knew he was a good man. In a backward way, that let her be even dirtier. She knew he was the kind of guy who wouldn't think of her like a slut just because Michaela wanted him to fuck her.

Because of that, Michaela wanted to perform for him. She wanted to be the spectacular whore for the nice guy. She wanted to be dirtier because she could see in his eyes, feel in his kisses and licks and thrusts, that he saw her as a real woman.

"Fuck me Patrick," Michaela said. "I've wanted this for years. I flicked my clit in college thinking of you. Fuck me like the boys won't. Fuck me like the boys CAN'T. Fuck me like I'm yours. Fucking GIVE IT TO ME!"

Our words were gone. His mouth covered hers again, and she opened her lips for his tongue as her legs stretched to let him inside of me. His tongue slid into her. She felt full, a sensation of being overwhelmed dominating her as his cock shoved in, his tongue whirled around and his teeth pinched at her lower lip and chin.

His fucking was glorious.

It was hard and deep but so fucking smooth. Younger men just want to hammer, as though the guy with the hardest thrusts wins. But Patrick wasn't fast. He was even, sliding like silk into her, driving so fucking deep Michaela saw sparks in her vision.

She wanted to tease him more. She wanted to play. But Patrick was working her body so perfectly all Michaela could do was lay back and get fucked.

After another few thrusts, Michaela could feel the tingle of sparks at the end of every limb. Out of reflex, Michaela slid her hand down her belly to finger her clit. At that, Patrick caught her eye as he leaned over to hover above her face.

"No, no, girl. That's my job," he said. "Get on your knees at the head of the bed."

He slid out and stood before her with his cock jutting out, glossy from her pussy's wetness. It gave Michaela a perverted pride. She did as she was told and climbed onto the bed positioned on all fours.

With no idea what he was going to do, she was willing to let him do anything. Patrick crawled after her, a grin on his face. Seeing the expression as he looked at her filled Michaela with another wave of naughty pride.

When he reached her, he pulled her up so she was on her knees, legs smashed against the pillows at the head of the bed, eyes facing the wall. His big hand pressed the small of her back, slick with sweat, pushing her until her breasts were flat against the wall above the headboard. With his other hand, he grabbed her hip and pulled her ass back.

"Face down, ass up? Is that how you like to fuck, Mr. Ravenwood?" Michaela teased. She was on fire and knew now what he was going to do. By the time he was finished, Michaela was sure she'd be screaming in pleasure.

"Not face down," he said, kneeling behind her, his breath in her ear. When he had her where he wanted her, Michaela felt his hand leave her hip and guide his cock. As his head brushed her wet opening again, he slid deep. Even though he was bigger than almost any of the boys she'd been with, she was so wet and wanting she took him back in easily.

That's when he slid his hand around her hip and two fingers slid down on either side of her clit. Finally, he took his hand from her back and grasped one of her breasts, pinching her hard nipple between his fingers.

Then he fucked her. Patrick simply, gorgeously, fabulously fucked Michaela. With every thrust, the friction of their bodies, the shifting of their skin, every erogenous zone Michaela had was stroked and pleased. After just a few strokes, her breathing grew ragged, echoing off the wall so close to her. She was beginning to see flares of light.

She began to let out high, hard squeaks of pleasure, unafraid of how silly or sordid it sounded. Patrick was giving it to her just as she'd always wanted and Michaela wanted him to know he was her fucking stud.

With each thrust, she felt his girth open her with a wonderful, completing fullness. As each thrust ended, her body would move forward so his fingers stroked her clit and her breasts were pressed into his clutching palm so firmly his hand was trapped between her and the wall.

At the end of each stroke, her body involuntarily shoved back, eager to pull him in more. The rhythm was perfect. Michaela had the delusional greed to be fucked by him forever.

Then she felt a new hardness inside of her and she began to lose it.

"God, Michaela," Patrick grunted, his mouth at her ear. His lips opened against the side of her neck, under her ear, and Michaela felt his pleasure bellow out like the heat from a blast furnace. Buried deeper in her pussy than she'd ever felt anyone, his cock swelled with his releasing pulses. The sensation of his climax flaring set off her cascade. Her nerves flared, her muscles clenched and released again in a breath-stealing climax.

"Come in me," Michaela said. "I want you in me. Fill up my wet little cunt."

He began to howl out his release, pressing his whole body against hers, smashing her against the wall as his cock jutted into her with one last, deep thrust. With his weight against her, the wall in front of her, and his arms curled around her, Michaela could not move.

She was bound there, with nothing left but to submit to the ravaging orgasm humming and pounding through her.

Feeling him complete in her, hearing his whole voice scream out his pleasure against her neck was the hottest sensation she had ever felt. Feeling his uncontrolled pleasure on her and in her made her feel like a goddess.

Finally, he pulled back and lowered to his knees on the mattress. Michaela turned, wet from him, their juices sliding down her thighs, and straddled him.

Wrapping herself around him, Michaela knew she smelled of his sweat and he smelled of her wetness. It was a delicious fucking moment.

After long moments of heaving breaths, Michaela brought her eyes to him, looking for an indication of his less fevered thoughts.

His smile felt like a dawn for her.

"I don't know what to say," he said, finally. "Other than I want to do this again."

Michaela couldn't say anything either, so she just kissed him.