Chapter 4 Bryce
When I get home, I head right for my scotch and sit on the couch. Before I got too comfortable, I did change into a T-shirt and a pair of soft jeans. They’re my oldest and most comfortable pair.
I sigh and take a look at my watch for the hundredth time. Today is Penelope’s deadline. But it’s almost six, and I haven’t seen her. I’m not sure I will.
I curse as I think of what kind of bastard lusts after his son’s girlfriend. Even if he is a giant douche for cheating on her. I’ve wanted Penelope long before she came to my office yesterday. It fills me with shame that some of my thoughts while alone in my bed or in the shower have been about her. I imagined her in the shower with me, her hands gliding over her soapy body, her hands sliding over her breasts, her pussy. Or I’d think about her in my T-shirt as I fucked her on the porch outside. As I pounded into her, her ass was out, and her body was over the patio table.
I adjust my cock in my pants as I try to think of anything else.
Grandma in a nightgown.
Clowns.
The courtroom.
Nothing really works, though. Thoughts of Penelope are too strong, and I want her so badly. She says she only wants me out of revenge, but I’ll take that. I’ll do anything to feel her sweet pussy around my cock.
I take a sip of my scotch, then hear a knock on the door. I take my drink to the door and inhale when I see Penelope standing there. She’s wearing a long trench coat covered in snow from outside and a beige brown toque with a matching scarf.
“Penelope,” my voice is calm, but my body aches to yank her close and ravish her.
“Hiya,” she grins at me and waves the bottle of whiskey in her hand. “I thought maybe we could have a small drink together.”
She did not come over here just for a drink. I assume it’s a classier line than ‘I came over to fuck you as revenge. Now, will you do me?’ No, Penelope’s not that blunt. So I move over and let her in from the cold.
When she removes her jacket, I shove my free hand in my pocket to keep from touching her. She’s wearing a light brown cowl neck sweater dress that hits her knees, and when she takes off her thigh-high boots, I see her white stockings. Because of the dress”s neckline, I can see her cleavage and want to sink my hands underneath the dress and feel her warmth.
I take another sip of my drink, letting the liquid slide down my throat, quenching my thirst. Though, as much as I love scotch, I’d much rather have Penelope’s juices in my mouth.
Penelope stands with the bottle in hand, and I bring us to the living room, where she places it on the table. I get a glass and pour her some. Then I empty my glass and pour some for myself. We sit on opposite ends of the couch as we sip the whiskey in silence. My free hand twitches on my lap when Penelope crosses her legs, revealing part of her bare thigh.
Fuck me.
I don’t know how long I’m going to last. There’s a silent plan forming between us. We both know what’s going to happen. But there’s tension in the room. A lustful tension one could cut with a knife.
I notice her hair is down. When I’ve seen her, she’s always kept it in a ponytail. But tonight, it’s down and all wavy. Her hair is reddish blonde, almost pink, with bangs. It looks so fucking soft, and I want to bury my face in it.
Penelope sits there, calm and sipping her whiskey, but I see the wild in her eyes as she looks into the far window in the darkness.
Being in the country, when night comes, it gets very dark. But in the daytime, you can see the trees and the wild animals that come to hang out. It’s a magnificent sight, and it’s why I chose it. I work in the city, and I need some place to calm down at the end of the day, and this was the perfect place.
I’m a little taken by how perfect Penelope looks in my home. The color pallets of my house are browns, grays, and whites, with some blue and black thrown in.
With her soft strawberry-blonde hair and sweater dress, she looks like she’s meant to live here.
“Penelope,” I whisper. Startled by my voice, she flinches but then turns to me.
“Yeah?” Her voice is perky, and her smile is wide.
“Why are you here, Penelope?” I ask.
Her smile falters, and she grips her glass with two hands.
“I thought that was obvious,” she says.
“It is. But unless you tell me exactly what you want, nothing will happen. I ask that much from you.”
She looks at me. Her eyes search mine for something. I’m serious. I’ll fuck her if that’s what she wants. Whether or not it’s out of revenge. But I want to hear that desire come from her lips.
“We broke up,” she says, taking a long sip of her drink.
“You and Cameron?”
“Yeah. It’s official now. I yelled at him. He tried to excuse his behavior, and I kicked him out in the end.”
He tried to do what?
I haven’t seen Cameron all day, so I haven’t been able to talk to him. I should have called him. Maybe, I would have told him he couldn’t excuse this.
I take a deep breath and ask, “So what now? What do you want, Penelope?”
“I still want you to fuck me,” she says plainly. She places her glass on the table and crawls to me. Her collar hangs low, and I get a peek at her breasts.
White lace covering soft and pale mounds.
She kneels next to me. I can smell her cherry shampoo, and my dick twitches in my pants. She places her hand in her lap and looks up at me with those doe eyes.
Jesus, fuck. I want those eyes looking at me as I ride her hard.
“Um, so if you still want to take my deal? I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m absolutely sure.”
I place my empty glass on the table and pat my lap.
“Sit,” I say, and Penelope comes over and sits on my lap. Her legs hang over the edge, and we shift a little to get comfortable.
Her ass rubs against my cock, and it starts to harden in my pants. I can already feel drops of pre-cum coating my pants as she wiggles on my lap.
I growl, and Penelope looks at me. Her eyes glaze over with lust. She shivers, and I wrap my arms around her.
“You want my cock, Penelope?”
She bites her lip and nods.
“You want it deep inside your virgin pussy? Popping your cherry?”
She gasps and nods again.
I lean down, wanting to taste her lips. I gently graze my lips over hers, feeling her breath against my face. I lick her bottom lip, and she moans. Her mouth opens slightly, and I slide my tongue inside her warmth. I play with her tongue and kiss her until she’s panting.
I pull back, looking between her eyes and her swollen lips.
“Did you like that?” I ask.
She nods and swallows. “Yes, I really like that.” She pants, and I grin.
I gently slide my hand up her leg, and she watches. My hand glides up her stocking and the smooth skin of her thigh. When I reach the hemline of her dress, I pause for a second and look into her eyes for any hesitation. Upon seeing none, my hand keeps climbing. Soon my hand disappears underneath her dress, and I get closer to her pussy. Penelope parts her legs, making the dress hike up her legs, revealing my hand on her inner thigh. I brush her clit over her cotton panties, and she gasps, then moans.
I do it repeatedly until her hips move along with my touches. Penelope grips the couch and throws her head back in ecstasy. I pull back her panties and touch her bare pussy. I hiss as I swipe at her slick pussy lips.
Fuck, she’s soaked.
I slide two fingers between her labia and circle her heated center.
“Mmm, fuck, you’re so soaked for me. Bad girl. Are you all wet for Daddy?” I groan and push a single finger up her pussy.
Penelope moans out, “Yes!”
I’ve never even been tempted to call myself Daddy in this context, but something about this moment calls for it. And I feel a delightful shiver run through Penelope when I say it.
She likes it.
I push another finger inside her and hold her to me. As I start rubbing on her g-spot and swiping at her clit, I watch her face. The way her eyes close and her mouth opens with pleasure. Panting and moaning with desire.
“That’s it, baby. You love Daddy’s fingers in you, don’t you, you dirty girl?” I growl in her ear, and she shivers in my lap.
I move my fingers faster as Penelope comes closer to orgasm.
She moves her hand from the couch to the collar of my T-shirt and looks me in the eye as she comes. Her beautiful face glazes with bliss as she calls out my name.
“Bryce! Fuck! Yes!”
I thrust my fingers in and out of her rapidly. Her pussy makes those wet sounds, and I swear I come a little in my pants.
After her orgasm subsides, she slumps in my lap, panting, trying to catch her breath.
I pull my fingers out and lick them clean before cupping the back of Penelope’s head and pulling her in for a kiss. Our tongues dance in our mouths as we taste each other.