The Father Next Door

His voice strained, moans tumbled their way from his lips as I felt the swing of his hips grow erratic and wild. Soft cries were pushed from my throat as he pounded his cock into me with jarring, short thrusts. All I wanted was to be somehow closer. My legs lifted and wrapped around his hips, heels crossing to lock behind his muscular rear. His mouth was at my ear washing it in hot rough breaths, "Fuck..." he groaned like he's was pain, like he just couldn't take it any more. "Ollie" he whispered, though his thrusts never stopped. A hand departed from my side; I could see him start to reach behind himself, reaching for my legs as they intertwined behind him. Another strained grunt followed a powerful thrust, his fingers grazed at my heel.

His voice rumbled out in the dark "Ggggrrrrhhhhhh... Aaahh. Fuck," he growled as I drew my legs tighter around him, pushed myself into him as he burrowed his face into the nook of my neck and closed his teeth tight over my slender shoulder. Hot breath poured down my chest while his voice rumbled into my neck. "Ollie.." he said one more time more urgently than before. Then without warning he bellowed in pleasure. I felt him throbbing inside me, felt the way he flexed in the tight confines of my folds as his cock spasmed, his balls drawing up tight against my rear. He flooded my pussy with his viscous, sweltering hot cum.

Henry was cumming inside of me, I could hardly believe it. Each little throb sent a fresh burst of his potent seed into my tiny fertile canal, co-mingling with the fresh virgin blood to stain a faint pink hue. A pair of thick dribbles slowly descended from between my thighs as he continuously fucked his own cum out of my vice-like little hole. After a few errant thrusts Henry gently collapsed over the top of me, mumbling a soft "Damn it..." He reached behind himself now uninhibited and pulled my legs open before slowly drawing his softening cock from my wrecked canal. With the plug lifted a flood of warm fluid started to drip down between my thighs. I felt my cheeks burn as I realized too late why he had grappled to unlock my legs from behind him; that perhaps he had not meant to stuff my fertile young slit full of his seed. Yet the warmth inside of me was so soothing, even comforting.

We laid there in the dark; side by side in that tiny twin bed panting and sweating. My hand crept into his and our fingers laced together. Neither one of us spoke and I don't think we needed to just then. What was left to say? I wondered what would happen when Mrs. Walker and Charlotte got home, but for now he was mine, my Henry. The late hour weighed heavy on me as the excitement began to subside. A thick powerful arm coiled around my back and pulled me gently into his chest as we sprawled intertwined in the afterglow for a time longer. Reality began to blur into the darkness of sleep as I listened to the slow heavy breaths beside me. I heard his voice then, but it felt far away. "I wanted to fuck you for so long..." I swear he said it. I wanted to reply yet sleep dragged me away. "Sweet dreams..." I thought I heard him say - and then, nothing.

Light poured through the curtains as my eyes snapped open. Seeing Charlotte's trophies around me confused my sleep-addled mind for a moment as I yawned and lifted my head to look around, memories flooding back. I laid alone in her bed, blanket drawn over my chest. No Henry, no discarded clothing anywhere. I could smell bacon frying in the kitchen, even hear the odd pop of grease in the pan. From every time I had slept over at the Walkers' place each morning started just like this. Coffee brewing, bacon frying, orange juice was probably already out on the table. I wondered for a moment if I hadn't gone crazy - and then I sat up. I could feel the ache between my thighs, the soreness, the stickiness. Yet the mundane familiarity of my circumstance left me feeling as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Maybe that was how he wanted it? I slipped back into that worn night shirt and started padding downstairs wondering who would greet me; would it be the father next door or the Henry of my dreams.