Unicorn Ch. 03

They were spent. The man, her lover, her daddy, grasped her with weak fingers. He was parched and emptied and Mr. Preston gazed lovingly into Lauren's eyes as he sank into her body and whispered, "I love you, Lauren." He said her name like no one ever had before, like it was a magic word, like it must be treasured and kept close to his heart.

Saying her name seemed to bring them both back. It was as if he'd released her from his dream world and they were just the two of them once again. He was just Mr. Preston and she was just Lauren and his cum was just buried inside and fucked down her thighs. They were both wet with each other's love.

He settled down next to Lauren and held her close. Mr. Preston kissed her cheek and then the delicate skin just under her jaw. "Did I tell you that I was nervous about it just being the two of us?" he asked as he swept back little bits of her hair that had escaped her braids.

"You too?" Lauren wondered as she curled up in his arms.

"Yes, but no more," he told her with shining, serious eyes. "Thank you for giving me that fantasy."

Lauren couldn't help but give him a small, twisted smile when she said, "You're welcome daddy."

"Baby," he kissed Lauren along her hairline and whispered. It felt like he was almost begging for more except that Mr. Preston knew that he never had to beg. Lauren wanted whatever her sultan desired. "I hope my little girl isn't too tired. Daddy's going to get his second wind shortly.

And just like that, Lauren was his daughter once more.

***

Mr. Preston already had plans for the day by the time Lauren woke up. He was busy making pancakes when she shuffled into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Good morning, my love," he addressed her with his warm smile, the same one that he'd always had for her. "Coffee?"

The sun was high in the sky. Lauren could tell by the angle of the light that came through the living room windows. "Yes please," she said and stretched. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," he told her and set her cup down. Mr. Preston always made it perfectly, heavy cream, light sugar, just the way she liked it. "You were out like a light," he tapped her on the tip of her nose with a finger. "Guess I must have done an okay job, huh?"

Lauren laughed, it was a naughty, almost fiendish laugh. He'd been insatiable for the little girl fantasy. The first time, he took her virginity. The second was after he had bathed her in the tub with a sponge. The third was after Lauren had sat on his face for an hour.

After that she couldn't move, all she could do was collapse to the bed. "I would say so," she grinned and felt the fluids from last night trickle down her bare thighs. She wore his white shirt from yesterday and it smelled of sweat and lovemaking. "I didn't know you cooked," Lauren said as she watched him flip more pancakes.

"I don't really," he shrugged, "Just breakfast." He handed over a plate full of pancakes and bacon. There was butter and syrup waiting on the counter. Mr. Preston reached for her and held her chin so that Lauren stared back into his dark eyes. They were so full of tenderness for her. "But I would do anything for you. My little girl," there was that voice again. It was a voice that told a bedtime story. It came from a fairytale and Mr. Preston had fallen in love with the long haired fairy princess who lived there.

Lauren felt the wave of him, his want, his need, enter her body.

He released her and busied himself with the eggs he was scrambling. "So I thought we'd go do the river architecture tour if you want. It's a beautiful day for it."

Lauren nodded and chewed the bacon.

"Plus it's a fun thing to do when you're high," Mr. Preston said with a chuckle.

She felt her eyes get wide. This was shaping up to be the perfect day.

"And we're going dancing tonight." He told her as he shoveled eggs on his plate. "So eat up, young lady, no wasting the day away."

Mr. Preston only had two speeds, stopped and full speed ahead. He was like a rocket, a force of nature. Lauren dipped her pancake in syrup and thought that it was good that he didn't want to spend the day in bed like she and Mrs. Preston would do. Lauren would be too sore to enjoy him. Thinking about her queen made Lauren smile wistfully. "Did Mrs. Preston call?" Lauren wondered.

"No," Mr. Preston sounded a little sad too, "But she texted us at four this morning. A whole stream of consciousness," they both chuckled at this. It was how she expressed herself when she was interested or frazzled. "She's not having fun and she drank too much and she told me not to hurt your beautiful pussy."

Lauren blushed and took another bite. Good, Mrs. Preston missed her in all of the best of ways.

"So I promised the queen that I would be gentle with our concubine," he whispered and reached for Lauren again. This time he smoothed her hair and flipped the unruly braid from yesterday back over her shoulder.

Lauren appreciated it. After a night of that much sex, there was a heat between her legs, a heaviness. It was almost as if her pussy lips were now larger. They were swollen and Lauren felt like they were obvious. Holding her thighs together under his shirt was difficult. It felt better when she spread her legs and let her lips splay and bask in the air conditioning. "Thank you," Lauren told him between bites.

"So how is it?" Mr. Preston asked as he raised his thick, black brows.

"How is what?" Lauren wondered with a piece of bacon poised to enter her mouth, a droplet of syrup on her bottom lip.

"Your beautiful, little pussy," he murmured, his eyes were all over her. Lauren knew that he'd memorized her nakedness long ago and could easily outline her curves through his ruined shirt.

Lauren bit her bottom lip, she wondered if she should even do it. Considering that they were like a match and kerosene. Considering that once it got started, there was no stopping Mr. Preston. He'd jackhammer her into the bed, or maybe even up against the wall, and Lauren couldn't do anything about it. Then again, there was the magnetic draw to his big body and as she studied his face, she could tell without even looking down that he was half hard. Lauren pulled the shirttail up and opened her legs up wide. "I think it's okay but you better check," she whispered.

"Fuck," Mr. Preston said. He sounded parched even though he'd just drank a full glass of orange juice. "You are so perfectly made," his eyes were riveted to Lauren's bare lips. He walked slowly around to her side of the breakfast bar, he walked like an animal who was hunting its prey. "I can't stop wanting you, Lauren," his voice broke as he dropped to his knees in front of her barstool. He abruptly turned her to face him. He roughly pushed his shirt up higher and yanked her legs far apart.

His breath was hot on her blushing, secret places and the feel of it made Lauren ache. After riding his face last night for so long, it seemed ridiculous to want it again. But Mr. Preston's tongue and his lips on her body was pure ecstasy. "Just a taste," he whispered and bowed his head. "I mean I did promise Sharon that I'd make sure."

She would have laughed at his joke if she didn't squeal with delight as Mr. Preston licked her softly along the inner side of one fat pussy lip. He took his time and licked all the way to her clitoris. Mr. Preston sighed as he sucked on her fleshy, little hood. Then he used his tongue underneath, he teased with just the tip along Lauren's fluttering bud. He moved his mouth and licked her back down the other lip to her creamy entry. He sighed into her bare legs.

Lauren felt it. It was unmistakable and there was no way she could control it. Her clit had a mind of its own and it made an appearance. It was needy and erect already. Her pink flesh was as hard as a bead and it felt fat and much too big to settle back into its resting place. This was her natural state of arousal when Mr. Preston was close by.

He knew it. Mr. Preston knew what he did to Lauren's body and he whispered, "Hello again," to her bud before he washed her clitoris up and down in long, hard, persistent strokes. His saliva dripped down to Lauren's cheeks and her calf twitched as he pleasured her.

Mr. Preston sat back on his heels and hummed with satisfaction. "Yes, I think it's safe to report back that our little girl's pussy is perfectly wonderful," he looked up at her, clearly amused at how he'd affected her body so quickly. "As always," he added. "Okay, eat your breakfast my love," Mr. Preston said with a grin as he rose to his feet.

Lauren saw that his cock was already up. It was over the waistband of his boxers. The meaty head had broken free and dripped on Lauren's knee as he rose. Her sultan was ready for her. He was more than ready, he ached for her and yet, Mr. Preston went back to his side of the breakfast bar with his big dick hidden away. He was going to wait and just the thought that he had so much control, made her gush a little puddle on the barstool.

Well fuck.

She was quick about her coffee and the rest of her breakfast. Lauren showered and left her hair loose to air dry so that it would be long and kinky. On a hot day like today, it would almost be a giant afro in the humidity. She put on white, denim cut offs that Mrs. Preston had once said were almost better than naked. She pulled a light blue tube top over her head and watched in the mirror as her nipples were sent into a frenzy. The fabric was a silky tease on her skin. Lauren was sure that she'd be sweaty and slick with pointed nipples all day. If Mr. Preston was going to tease her, he was going to get it right back, she told her reflection with a naughty smile.

When she presented herself to him in the living room, she felt the pulse between her legs. If Lauren thought that she'd drive him crazy with lust, she didn't realize that he'd do the same. He wore jeans that hugged his amazing ass and a gray tee shirt that reminded her of his biceps and shoulders. There was the line of muscle down his back, the ones that strained when he threw her on the bed and mounted her. Holding her down, plunging inside with his wild eyes, his forceful fingers and his cock. She'd never seen such a beautiful man before.

"Open your mouth," he said and Lauren did as she was told. She'd gladly get on her knees for him right here. She'd show Mr. Preston with her adoring hands and her worshipful mouth what her king inspired in her.

Mr. Preston put a red gummy bear on her tongue. "This should really hit about the time we get on the boat," and he put one in his mouth too. He'd gone to the dispensary before Mrs. Preston left and he had all kinds of edibles. It was a whole new way to experience being high. It was cleaner and more intense and came in waves.

Lauren took his hand and wove her slender fingers through his thick ones as they headed to the door. "Well this will be interesting," he whispered.

***

It was a symphony of sensation. Lauren had decided that was the appropriate word at some point in the afternoon. She was enjoying the slow build up of it all. It was decadent to be immersed in so many feelings and colors and scents all at the same time. Lauren just hoped that she'd remember it later exactly as it had occurred.

The Chicago River was almost the familiar Saint Patrick's Day green even in the summertime. It was beautiful like this though, with the sun sparkling on it. Mr. Preston had brought snacks from the French Market and the basket was a cornucopia of delicious surprises. Here was a bit of meat, here was a bite of a dumpling, here a spoonful of gelato. All the while, Mr. Preston also fed Lauren with whispers, some dirty and some so romantic, they could be poetry. His five o'clock shadow from the night before was on her neck and his fingers were on her bare legs. His salty, clean smell seemed to almost overpower her. Lauren was wet all day.

Once the tour was over, they went to Lincoln Park. They lay in the grass and studied clouds and Lauren found herself staring at Mr. Preston's mouth. For some reason, Lauren had never initiated contact with her sultan. With Mrs. Preston, Lauren often took the lead, especially now that they knew each other. Lauren would often pull the dark haired woman into her arms and baptize her face in a frenzy of wet kisses. Never with Mr. Preston. And yet, Lauren thought as she stared at his mouth, she'd never wanted to kiss any other man this much.

She sought out his mouth with hers. Lauren's lips led the way like her clitoris seemed to rise and pulse for her lover as soon as she heard him enter the house. Her lips were wet and Lauren's hips rose up to seal against him as their mouths touched. Liquid love and ecstasy came together as his tongue, so thick and slippery and powerful, pushed into the center of her mouth.

They wound their tongues together and his heavy body pressed Lauren into the ground. Consumed, like this, overpowered and consumed, Mr. Preston had her breath and gave her his. He drank down her sigh and her air and the edges were all blurry as she melted in his embrace.

There was no ending of Lauren and beginning of Mr. Preston. They were just one being, one pulse, one desire. Lauren felt a tremor and she realized that she didn't know if it initiated from him or her and there no longer seemed to be a place where Mr. Preston stopped and Lauren began.

When their mouths parted, both of them were out of breath. Mr. Preston lay back in the grass and covered his mouth while he stared at her. "Whoa," he murmured. Lauren wondered if he didn't feel it too, the undeniable sensation that they had been joined somehow, that their bodies were a piece of the other one's.

Love. A much bigger love than Lauren ever knew was possible.

"I have an idea," he told her and reached for Lauren's hand. "Let's go to the Drake. You ever been?"

Lauren snorted and covered her mouth quickly to make the sound stay inside. "God no," she told him with a laugh. "I really haven't been anywhere except with you guys."

Mr. Preston tugged her up to her feet and scooped her hair back as they headed towards the street. "Sorry, I forget sometimes. I mean you're so young but you seem ageless."

What did that mean, Lauren wondered.

Mr. Preston might be able to read her mind, maybe because they were touching. "I mean, you look nineteen but you seem older. Like you could be very old, maybe you're just an old soul. Or maybe timeless. I don't know," he chuckled to himself. "Or these edibles are getting to me."

They laughed and he twirled her as if they were the only ones who could hear the music playing. "You're not really going to go away after Labor Day are you? You're not going to leave, are you?" His husky voice dove down into the tube top and plucked her nipples into points that should be in his mouth. She should be in his lap with nipples like this, naked and full of his perfect dick. There was something sweet and sad in his gaze that made Lauren feel like she was melting into a puddle at his feet.

"You know what," Mr. Preston said as he twirled her once more, "don't answer that."

The lobby of the Drake was the most luxurious place that Lauren had ever seen. She immediately felt self conscious there, like she had back when she and Mrs. Preston had first met. It felt like her poor McCullum background just oozed into the atmosphere and she hoped that they wouldn't detect that she didn't belong. She hung back as Mr. Preston checked in. She lingered under the enormous chandelier and lost herself in the twinkling lights.

"You're going to need a dress," Mr. Preston said as he appeared behind her, close and hot and larger than life. He had folded his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket. Now it was just his eyes in the twinkling and for a second, Lauren felt like they were kissing even though they weren't actually touching at all.

Lauren shrugged, "I have a bunch at your house."

He nodded, "But we aren't at our house. Someone is going to have to get used to being spoiled a little." He handed her a room key and prompted her to follow him. "I don't pretend to be as good at this as Sharon but we'll manage," he told her with an easy smile. Mr. Preston led Lauren down a corridor to a small boutique with mannequins in the window. One male, one female, they were in formal wear. The male wore a tuxedo and Lauren thought he looked like James Bond. The jacket and crisp white shirt were white and the pants were black. The black bow tie made it quite debonair. The female mannequin wore a strapless black cocktail dress and she immediately remembered Mrs. Preston's advice to keep it simple. The mannequins made quite a pair, the two clear, plastic forms with clothes.

Mr. Preston and Lauren went inside the store. A young man was all alone behind the counter. He was freckled and thin, his blonde hair was bleached, not natural and Lauren thought he looked rather odd. He cracked his gum and asked, "can I help you?"

Mr. Preston pointed at the mannequins and told him, "We need that. The dress, the tux, the whole shebang," he said as waved at the clothes.

The boy at the counter exhaled and popped his gum again. It was exasperation and he made a face. "Are you with the wedding?"

"Why yes, we are. Damn airline lost our luggage," Mr. Preston lied quickly and convincingly and Lauren just hoped she could play along.

"And what jacket size are you?" He sized up Mr. Preston up with his eyes and scowled.

"42."

"And what about you, miss?"

"It depends," Lauren said under her breath.

Mr. Preston looked quizzically at her and leaned in, "You okay, honey?"

"I'm a 4, except for my," she pointed to her bottom.

Mr. Preston glowed when he stared at it fondly and then all the way back up to her face. "No worries, my love," he assured her with a touch of his solid hand. Mr. Preston would take care of it, like he took care of everything.

He used his black American Express card like a magic wand and it was amazing how quickly everyone seemed to snap to attention for Mr. Preston. He had that aura about him. Lauren realized as she watched the employees scramble, it wasn't just the money, it was him. He was powerful and in control of the situation, whether it was in the bedroom or in a store.

It didn't take much more than an hour for the clothes to be brought to the dressing room. While inside, a woman pinned Lauren's dress and marked it with chalk. The black strapless dress felt silky and heavy on her body. The bodice would hug her breasts nicely once the woman took it in a little on both sides. It would fit her ass like a glove after she let out the back. Mr. Preston wiggled his eyebrows at her to let Lauren know that he approved. "And of course you'll be wearing the proper foundation," the woman said and clicked her teeth to scold Lauren for not wearing a bra.

While they were sorting out the clothes and underwear, Mr. Preston had shoes sent over from Bloomingdales. Lauren knew from the glimpse she got of the red bottoms that the black, suede stilettos were Louboutins. Her fingers were nervous when she slipped them on one at a time. They made her legs look a mile long. They probably cost more than the Corolla was worth, she thought and sputtered with nervous laughter.

After they were finished in front of the mirrors and they were both dressed again, the store manager assured them that the clothes would be finished, pressed and delivered promptly to their room by 7:30. Plenty of time for the Goldman wedding reception. He had only come to their aid after the American Express card had been placed on the counter but once he had gotten involved, things happened like magic. "I hope you two have a lovely evening," he said with a wide smile as Lauren and Mr. Preston exited.

They waited to laugh until they got in the elevator and then they couldn't stop. Lauren held her sides and giggled until her face hurt. "And just in time for some wedding we're not invited to."