17. Ryker
17
Ryker
A rabella zoned out for most, if not all, of the drive back. I know she’s upset I told her no, but she’ll realize–eventually–that I did it for her own good. I was hoping to talk more when we got back, but she practically ran to her room. She wouldn’t even look at me. Fuck. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her.
I’m in desperate need of a hot shower. It might help relieve some of the tension I’m feeling. I pause at her door, wondering if I should check on her. Gently pressing my forehead to the frame, I hear a faint noise that sounds almost like–crying? Double fuck. My hand curls into a fist as I go to knock, when I think better of it. I suspect she needs space, after how quickly she ran away. I don’t want to make anything worse. Hopefully, she’s feeling better tomorrow, so we can talk.
The water is hotter than I usually like, but almost every muscle in my body feels tense and I need the heat. I place my hands on the shower wall in front of me, letting the water run down the back of my neck. It’s not helping. The shower is my thinking place, where I often have my best ideas, but what I really need right now is to shut my thoughts off. I keep replaying it over and over in my head. Those plump lips asking me to teach her .
Closing my eyes, I can almost hear her begging me, like she’s here in the room.
When I open them, I envision her on her knees before me, and it’s suddenly all I want. She’s waiting for direction like the good girl I know she really is, with her hands behind her back and mouth open, waiting for my cock.
Grabbing the base of my hard length, I slowly stroke myself from root to tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum with my thumb and wishing she was really here so I could feed it to her.
I close my eyes again, and imagine my fist in her hair, holding her where I want her as I slowly enter her warm, waiting mouth.
“Such a good girl for me,” I whisper. “Taking Daddy’s fat cock like you were made for it.” Daddy? Where the fuck did that come from? That’s new.
I can’t help but rut forward into my hand, as if it were her mouth. I need to feel her gag and choke on my dick and earn her breath back with her tears. I’m fully fucking my fist now at the image I’ve created, and I feel a tingle at the base of my spine, telling me I won’t be in this fantasy much longer. If she were really here, I’d force things to be more drawn out. I’d take my time with her, but right now I don’t actually give a fuck. My balls draw up and I imagine pulling out of her warm mouth as I grunt out my release, shooting hot ropes of cum all over the shower wall and wishing it was her pretty face, instead.
Catching my breath, I realize I want to teach her everything. The things I could teach her are endless, but control is what I crave, and I’d want it all. I’m not capable of settling for less than full submission with my partners.
As I dry off, reality sets in. This can’t happen. I’m too old and too set in my ways. She doesn’t know what she’s really asking. I have no choice but to keep this in my head where it belongs.