9. Fred
9
FRED
V ince came over early. To talk .
It’s the last thing I want to do. Whenever I see him, a rush of need washes through me and realigns my brain into a whole different set of priorities. The first would be to strip him naked. Second — rub myself all over him. And third? Spread my legs for his huge cock and beg for his cum.
It’s hard to focus on anything else, and it takes a concerted effort to make tea and carry the cups to the break room without spilling any. I put a plate of yesterday’s cookies between us and sit on the opposite side of the table from him, to keep some distance.
It only gives me a better view. He’s so large, it’s easier to see all of him from farther away, and I can’t help but stare and yearn. Tall, muscular, and hairy in ways that excite me without my understanding why, he is simply magnificent. A mountain of a man I desperately want to climb.
Nervous about how much of my interest is plain to see, I meet his gaze.
He groans and turns away, but not for long. “Don’t look at me like that.” His voice is strained, and his eager eyes scout every inch of me, setting my skin ablaze with his obvious, reciprocated desire. “It’s hard enough to think straight when I’m not with you, but in your presence, I’m ready to lose my fucking mind. We need to talk about what we did. And what we want to do, going forward.”
I blow at my tea and flutter my lashes at him. “I only know what I’d like to do next.
He smiles and shakes his head. “ No , Freddie. You may think you’re ready to come on my cock, but I’m not rushing things between us. We need to know each other better, so we’re going to talk today.”
“But I want to do both.” I sigh, and he leans across the table, to stroke my cheek and brush my hair back from my face.
“So do I.” He lowers his forehead to the table with a growly moan. “But I can’t fill your pretty cunt with my fucking whale-dick until I’ve broken you in better, and that’ll take time.” He lifts his head and stares me down. “You need to recover between stretching sessions, or I’ll hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, Angel. Not ever.”
I search his face and sigh. I’m pretty sure he means it, and his sweet and caring nature only make me desire him more.
“What are you going to do about these, then?” I slip the straps of my dress down and bare my heavy, aching breasts to him. They’re the biggest they’ve ever been, and it’s his doing. A man his size has an appetite to match, and he’s brought in more milk than I’ve had to handle before. My breast feel ready to burst, my skin hot and taut, and the thought of his stretching my body in all these different ways, to cater to his needs, gives me thrills I’m sure it shouldn’t. Mom would be sick if she knew, but I can’t help what I feel — what I crave .
I thrust my chest out and utter a soft whimper, as I gently trail my fingers around the curves of my tender, swollen flesh. “Your sexy mouth is responsible for this massive supply, and it’s getting painful to be so full.”
“Then I’ll need to make you feel better. Immediately.” His chair scrapes back, he pushes the table away, and then pats his lap.
I stand, grab a couple of cookies from the jar, and saunter over. “Your sweatpants will get damp if you don’t push them down before I sit there.”
“ Fred ,” he says in a warning tone and looks down at his massive boner.
“I won’t try to fuck your dick,” I promise. “I’m merely letting you know that I’m going to get ridiculously wet when your hungry mouth is pulling at me. I like it, Vince.”
“So do I,” he says quietly, before shoving his pants down to his knees. “Come soak me, Angel.”
“Gladly.” I lift the skirt of my dress and walk over to straddle his warm thighs. He pushes his fat cock flat, and I sit on it, already sliding a little. I feed him a cookie, and he takes it into his mouth whole. His lips curl up as he chews, and he glances at the cookie still in my hand. He wants it. He loves sweet things, I’ve noticed .
I stroke the underside of his beardy chin, trail my fingers through his chest hair, and then grip a handful of fuzz in my fist tightly enough to make him hiss. “I don’t know why you’re so worried about my not being big enough to try and take you yet.” I stroke his hairs back into their natural state and move on to explore other parts of him. He’s so different from any man I’ve been close to before. “I’ve had four children,” I remind him as I toy with one of his nipples.
His cock strains beneath me, and he elicits a warning rumble. “Your baby-making is my favorite — and probably my only — reason to believe there’s potential for me to fit inside you one day.”
I put the other cookie in his mouth, and then grip his big, beefy shoulders, so I can adjust my position. I like it when our curls touch.
“Raven was nine-pounds-six.” I smile at how big his eyes get. He looks impressed, and I like it. “Are you implying your dick is bigger than a nine-and-a-half-pound infant? Because I’ve seen it, Vince. It’s big, but it’s not impossible.”
He grips my ass and slides me back and forth along his smooth length, until he swallows. “It’s big enough we’ll need to be careful with it.”
I lean forward and weave my fingers into his hair. He closes his eyes and moans, as I massage his scalp.
“I promise I’ll be careful with it, then,” I whisper near his ear, before I tug at his lobe with my teeth.
“ Fuck ,” he says on an exhale, his cock bucking and jerking beneath me. He grips my shoulders and sets me back, where he can see me. “You’re a sneaky one. Getting me all riled up, so I want to do what you say, instead of what I should.”
I give him an innocent shrug. “I’m just enjoying your body as I explore it.”
“Exploring, huh?” He looks me over. Slides one hand down past my elbow, encircles my wrist, and uses his new grip to raise my arm in the air. He stares at my armpit, and I look too.
I wear them natural, which some guys say they don’t like, but I can feel Vince’s dick moving against me in appreciative eagerness.
He pulls me close, presses his nose into the small tuft of hair, and inhales deeply. His cock goes fucking wild .
I ride it, bronco-style, giggling from the tickle of his beard.
“ Fucking hell ,” he mutters, leaning back to watch me squirm. “What is that scent?”
“It’s me ,” I say with another giggle. “And soap. Homemade soap.”
“Of course,” he says, like it would be silly to think otherwise. He pulls me closer and lightly traces the veins on my breasts, while his erect and restless cock twitches excitably. He watches my face while he gently presses against my firm flesh and carefully palms my round fullness. “You’re very pretty, Angel.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I run my hands over his head, down his neck and out along his strong shoulders. “Because the feeling is mutual.” I grind against him, coating his shaft with my juices. “I can’t look at you without soaking my thighs.”
He smiles and wets his lips. “I can feel that.” He bends forward, drags the tip of his nose down my breast, and swipes the tip of his tongue over my nipple, before suckling gently — almost too lightly to feel. When he slips off, the only sign he’s really been there is that my nipples are standing at attention and one is coated in moisture. Thoroughly coated. Did he leave behind extra saliva on purpose?
He switches sides and licks and kisses my other nipple, leaving it drenched, too. He sits back with a satisfied look on his face, and then purses his lips and blows air at me.
It hits my nipples with a cool slap, and my spine snaps straight with a shiver.
He smiles and does it again, then bounces me on his knees. My breasts knock together, and his cock bucks at me. He takes hold of my dress and carefully works it past my breasts before pulling it over my head and placing in on the table. “Don’t want that getting wet,” he murmurs, palming my aching tits again. He suckles a little at each one, and then leans back in his chair to watch the magic happen.
My nipples prickle, and tiny beads of milk begin to form. They gather into bigger drops and soon I’m dripping milk onto my thighs, down the trail of hair on his belly, and into our curls. His dick goes fucking crazy, and he slowly massages my breasts, coaxing the flow. He slides his thumbs beneath my nipples, to provide a firm base, and then strokes his fingers down the upper side until he’s literally milking me.
Milk sprays at his chest and trickles through the forest of hair there, and I flush with heat.
Who does this? And why does nobody talk about it? I never knew breastmilk could have such a delicious sexual component to it. Relief, endorphins, and the pleasure-pain of having my nipples tugged with exquisite skill by a large, horny mountain man, are too good a combination not to enjoy together.
I rock and grind against Vince’s thick and wildly active shaft. It lifts and bumps beneath my pussy, providing a beautiful sliding platform and making me throb.
“ Mmm …” He rumbles with approval. “You going to come for me, Angel?”
He continues hand-milking one breast, but leans in to take the other into his mouth. He draws it deep, and I moan when he latches firmly and tugs. His suction is rugged and strong, and I fully surrender to the two different sensations drawing my milk forth at the same time, while I slick his cock. It’s too overwhelming to do anything but soak in the pleasure of his masterful touch.
I let my head fall back, as a powerful climax shudders through my core. I fill the room with rolling moans of relief, and my pussy flutters atop his shaft, soaking his length with wet kisses.
He groans and drags his mouth from my breast, pulling me with him, until he releases the suction. The sensation induces another wave of powerful spasms, and I succumb to it all.
“You feel beautiful, coming on my cock, Angel,” he says. “My gorgeous milky girl. I want to fuck you so badly. ”
“Do it,” I pant when he comes to suckle at my other breast. “Do it now.”
He shakes his head and leans back. “Not yet,” he says, watching me with unadulterated desire. “This is too good to rush.” His touch is filled with reverence as he strokes my face. So warm and loving. Floating in sated bliss while feeling adored may be my new favorite thing — better than cold custard and fresh peaches with the girls, under a shady tree, in the height of summer.
“I’m desperate to push inside and cream your pretty cunt, Angel. That’s why I’ll come back to you as fast as I can.” Vince leans in, to drink from me gently, and my pussy quivers, but my heart leaps into my throat.
Back?
Mom warned me not to play with fire, but I haven’t made up my mind about whether I’ll listen, when basking in the warmth has been this wonderful. I’m not ready to step away yet, and now I may not even get a choice?
I pull back and search his face. “You’re leaving?”
His eyebrows twitch, and his eyes soften. He strums at my pouting lower lip with his thumb. “You knew I was only visiting, Angel.”
I nod, but it’s a little hard to breathe, and my eyes feel hot. I don’t want to say goodbye ; I’m not ready. I raise my gaze to the ceiling and take a few calming breaths, before I can speak. When the words come out, they’re soft and strained. “But I thought we’d have more time. We haven’t even… Does it have to be over so soon?” I search his face. “Did I do something wrong?”
He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head as he cups my face in his big hands. “No, Angel. You’re perfect,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks.
My anxiety doesn’t abate. “Did Mom say something to you?”
“No.” He frowns, and his warm brown eyes sweep from side to side, while he studies my face. “What could she possibly say that would stop me from wanting to see this beautiful face? You’re looking at me like you’ll miss me.”
I swallow hard and shrug, pretending not to know.
Vince pulls me close and runs one hand slowly down my spine in a soothing motion, before stroking it upward again, in a way that makes me lean in with a shiver. “Everything about you is more wonderful than I could have hoped for, Frederica.” He moves me back, so we can see each other’s faces. “I have to go home and wrap up some loose strings for work, but I’ll be rushing back, and you’re the reason for the hurry, sweet girl.”
“Really?”
“After the taste I’ve had?” He looks at me as if I’m silly to question him. “I’m a man with an appetite, and I’m hungry for you, Angel. So fucking hungry.” He gives me a shy smile. “It’d take an army to keep me away — I’m very big and strong.”
A sobbed giggle escapes me, and he kisses my forehead before laying his adoring gaze upon me again. “It’s nice to know you’d like me around for longer,” he says, blushing sweetly. “I’d love to spend more time with you. And your family, if that’s something you’ll allow. It feels weirdly natural, to be around you all — like I could belong here. ”
My heart stammers in my chest and stumbles into a sprint. Does he mean he wants to stay with us? Permanently?
We haven’t talked about that, and it’s not as simple as my wanting it, which I haven’t properly meditated on yet. I have the girls to think about, and Mom will be dead against it.
Her warning flashes into my mind.
Am I blinded by pleasure? Am I being selfish?
I haven’t spared this situation a thought beyond how Vince makes me feel things. I’ve been following my intuition and the all-consuming desire to merge our energies and create something inspired by the incredible, undeniable attraction between us, but we haven’t talked about what that means or what it may look like. He’s been wanting to talk, but I may actually have been avoiding that discussion, in case it means my time with him will have to end.
I search his face. How could I sustain any kind of permanence with him, if my family doesn’t approve? It feels wrong to question my intuition, but what if Mom’s right? What if I’m too star-struck to make the right choices? Vince seems so sweet and sexy, and he makes it hard to think about anything but fun and pleasure. But what if I unwittingly invite danger into my home? Is a gut feeling a strong enough reason to trust him when I know what could go wrong?
Mom loved and trusted my father — thought we’d be safe — and we’ve been in hiding for years because of it. He’s still the first monster that stalks into my mind when I hear a noise in the night. He’s what can come of trusting the wrong man, and why Mom’s tried so hard to train me to trust my gut, but now she’s saying I shouldn’t, and that feels wrong… I’m so confused.
I squeeze my eyes shut, to help focus my thoughts. “ Belong here? With me?” I try to remain calm, but when I open my eyes, his face seems almost sad.
“I’d like to,” he says softly, picking up my dress. He gently lowers it over my head and threads my arms back through the straps for me, while I stare at him. “But whether I do or not is up to you.”
He tidies my hair for me, lifts me from his lap, and sets me on the table, so he can pull up his pants. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Freddie. I have to return to the city today, but I’m coming back, because I’m old enough to know what I want, and I won’t miss a chance to strive for it. I understand you’re still young, though. You have endless possibilities ahead of you. I’m one option, and I’m happy to be, but it doesn’t really matter what I want when the decision isn’t up to me.”
“What would happen if I accept we belong together?” I can’t see it working out happily for everyone involved.
“Whatever you wanted.” Vince dips his head and watches me from under his dark eyelashes. “If you’re asking me what I’d like to happen, the answer is that I would love to make babies with you, Fred. Lots of them. But I’d also want to stick around and help raise them. That’s who I am. If you’d prefer something different, I’d appreciate you letting me know once you’ve decided — and definitely before any babies get involved. Does that sound fair?”
I nod, unable to form words.
He smiles. It’s a kind smile. Friendly and inviting. But it’s edged with a caution I know I put there.
“I think you’re wonderful,” I whisper.
He blushes sweetly and avoids looking at me. “Okay.”
He inhales so deeply his shoulders and chest appear twice their already impressive size, and then lets his breath out slowly and glances at the clock on the wall. “I should go,” he says. “I made you start late, and I need to give you time and space to think about what I’ve said, without looming over you like some big” — he gestures up and down his body — “ me .”
He sounds so annoyed at his beautiful size, despite having no control over it.
“Vince?”
He shakes his head and ducks down to kiss my cheek. “No rushing, Fred. I’ll be back in a week or two. We can talk about things then.”
He walks out before I can argue, and I feel the unpleasant ache of his absence immediately. My mind may be a web of confusion, but my body knows what it wants. Every part of it wishes I could be closer to him again.
I close the bakery door on the darkness of pre-dawn and start mixing the bread dough, so I’ll have something to work out my frustrations on.