Chapter 6
six
Jason
You’re out of your goddamn mind.
That’s how I feel. Like the usual stalwart nature of the man I’ve aged into has completely deserted me. I’m flat out horny—and the object of my need is this eighteen-year-old college student. My daughter’s roommate.
Shea has made it clear that she wants me. That she wants a spanking.
And damn me to hell, I’ve just agreed to give her one.
“Just once,” she repeats in a whisper. “Yes, sir.”
My dick bobs hungrily in my sweatpants. I’ve had an erection since we were in my bedroom together earlier, finding her a sweatshirt.
I should have stroked off when they left for the party, but there’s something about being this turned on that is making me feel…
electrified. Alive. Awake for the first time in a long time.
It’s a dangerous feeling, because I suspect Shea is the only one capable of giving it to me.
Do I…like being called sir?
Do I like meting out punishment in the form of a spanking?
I have no fucking clue.
But I love the idea of being what this girl needs.
And that means I’m in trouble.
A worry for later, I’ve apparently decided, because I’m drawing her around to my side of the couch. Slowly. Our abundant size difference, along with her innocently excited expression, only makes what I’m about to do seem more sinful.
I sit down on the couch, reaching up to grasp her hips. Turn her to face me.
I draw her into the outstretched V of my thighs.
That alone causes her to breathe faster, her delicate knees to wobble slightly.
“You may take off the sweatshirt now,” I say, my mouth already dry.
This is happening.
One spanking. That’s all I’ll allow myself.
Shea catches her lush bottom lip between her teeth and curls her hands in the hem of my sweatshirt, lifting the gray material up, up, over her hips, belly, tits. Off over her head.
“Leave it on the floor,” I manage in a rumble, because there’s that tight body, shivering with need, all the telltale signs of arousal on full display.
Sweet, swollen nipples pushing against the front of her tank top.
Goosebumps on her arms. Hips that sway side to side, refusing to stay still.
A little wet spot forming on the crotch of her sleep shorts.
Dilated pupils.
“You left my sweatshirt on the whole time, like a good girl?”
“Yes,” she wheezes. So excited to be disciplined. So in need of a man.
So in need of me.
“Were you hot?” I ask.
“A little.”
“Were you tempted to take it off?”
“No. But…”
“But what?”
She wet her lips, leaving them glossy. “People tried to make me take it off.”
I raise an eyebrow. “People?”
The change in my tone causes her breath to catch.
“Boys,” I clarify on her behalf.
“But I didn’t do it,” she whispers. “And I didn’t want to talk to them.”
“Then why didn’t you say so? Do you have a voice, Shea?” I skim my fingertips up the backs of her thighs and she whimpers. “Or do I need to spank it out of you?”
She starts to tremble, her nipples growing even more spiky. “Please, sir.”
Lord, I get almost dizzy. Drunk on her beauty and innocence.
The responsibility she’s entrusting to me.
This untapped hunger inside of her…it’s mine to foster.
To shape. No one else’s. I’m highly aware of the resulting possessiveness rippling to life inside of me.
How sharp and colorful it is. I shouldn’t allow myself to be possessive of Shea, but it’s too late to turn back now.
“I’m going to pull down your shorts now,” I say, gruffly.
Her rapid nod is so endearing, a knot forms in my throat.
“If you want to stop, Shea, say the word ‘sushi.’” I tuck my fingers into the hips of her tiny shorts and work them down to her knees, my world tilting on its axis at my first look at her pussy.
Succulent, soft and golden, lips glistening in invitation.
A dusting of blonde hair. Absolutely exquisite.
I could stare at the shape and texture of it forever.
I could inhale the roses and sugar scent until I die.
But if I stare at her cunt a second longer, I’m going to bury my cock in her.
With a strangled growl, I twist her sideways and pull her face down onto my lap, groaning brokenly at her naked ass, so pert and eager in the firelight.
Curved and tempting. Waiting for the first strike of my hand.
Her breaths sound like sobs in the mostly quiet room, mingling with my harsh inhales, exhales.
Again, I question my sanity.
I’m on the verge of breaking a lot of unspoken rules.
Rules that shouldn’t have to be spoken out loud.
My daughter’s friend, a girl half my age, is lying across my thighs with her pants down, anticipating a blow from my hand.
My cock is the stiffest it has been in years.
Maybe in my whole fucking life. Sweat pours down the sides of my face.
Christ, she’s so hot.
I couldn’t stop now if I tried.
Gathering her blonde hair in my left hand, I raise my right one and bring it down on her ass cheeks in a testing blow, my plan to weigh her reaction.
Go from there. But I don’t expect the claws of authority to dig into my chest, like talons.
I don’t expect to feel Shea in my bones, suddenly, to connect with her in this powerful wave of need. Lust.
Understanding.
Renewal.
“You can take it harder than that, can’t you?” I ask, hoarse, my pulse raging.
“Yes, sir,” she breathes.
“Good girl. I know you can,” I say, delivering a stinging slap that frees a gasp from her mouth. “This is not for talking to boys. It’s for talking to boys when you didn’t want to.”
“I understand,” she responds in a thready voice, crying out over the next smack.
“I’m not worried about little boys. I knew you’d come home to your…”
Jesus, I come very close to saying Daddy, but I hold my tongue, alarmed.
What the hell has gotten into me?
“I knew you’d rather come home to a man,” I say, instead.
“Yes.” Shea moans now, and the low, sultry sound brings me to the brink of ejaculating in my pants. “Please don’t stop, sir.”
I spank her, my roughest slap yet, hypnotized by her taut, reddening buns. How they shake when I wallop them. How her thighs flex and her hips lift.
She’s an absolute marvel, this girl. A masterpiece.
“Your pussy was already soaked when I pulled down your shorts. Jesus. What it must be like now…”
I should never have asked.
She turns her head slightly to look at me and my heart arrests itself.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life than her flushed, shellshocked face.
Bright eyes. “You can feel it and find out, if you want, sir.” She inches open her thighs, parting the cheeks of her spanked backside.
Giving me access to all of her. “J-just this once.”
Shea is echoing my own vow from earlier.
Just this once.
How laughable it was to believe I could stop at a spanking.
I’m in a haze of her creation. Caught in a spell.
Before I can remind myself of all the reasons I shouldn’t take this encounter any further, I am dragging my knuckle down, down inside the crack of her perky ass, pressing it gently to that rear pucker and savoring her gasp, before continuing on.
Groaning as I discover the dripping wet region of her cunt.
That soft, heated flesh greets my knuckle with profuse wetness, her sex so fresh and pliant, I know I’m fucked.
“I need to taste it, angel,” I rasp, plucking her off my lap and throwing her onto the couch, face up, her tits bouncing out of her tank top, her thighs spread for my mouth.
A fortune of flesh.
Sweet, supple flesh.
Eyes that beg for an education.
A Daddy, God help me.
My swollen dick and the heart spinning in my ribcage give me no choice but to give it to her. I’m past the point of no return. Maybe I sped past it the second I saw her tonight. But if I’m going down for my sins, I might as well enjoy them. Right?
I rip her shorts down to her ankles, tossing them away.
Growling in my throat, I take her inner thighs in my hands and press them apart, my tongue delving into her honey and transporting me to heaven. And as her sugar taste goes to my head, making me stoned, I have no idea how I’ll ever exist on earth again now that I’ve experienced this perfect angel.
Shea.