Layanna
Present
His deep voice was in my ear, questioning, “You gonna take all this dick like a good girl?”
Thinking I couldn’t get any wetter, I felt my cream gush out at his question and I moaned, “yessssssss, I promise to try”.
Dissatisfied with my answer, he yanked my skirt up and swatted my bare ass with his hand and reprimanded me, “I don’t want you to try, I want you to take it ALL like my perfect little slut.”
I tried to hold back the orgasm that was about to tear through me, considering how his dick hadn’t even stroked inside my creamy and wanton insides; however, I was about to explode just from the disgusting way he was talking to me.
Dirty talk was my sexual kryptonite, and it did me in every time, even in porn.
If he was talking her through it, I was guaranteed to cream and squirt like a broken fire hydrant.
“Caleb, please, PLEASE, I’m about to cum, please let me,” I begged with reckless abandon, paralyzed by my lust and also my guilt.
Yes, guilt racked my mind. Never in a million years did I think I would be navigating life as a widow while exploring my deepest desires with my deceased husband’s best friend, who was also navigating life as a widower.
Life had shown me on more than one occasion that it would throw all kinds of curveballs, and you would either hit them out of the park or score a field goal or whatever the sports analogy is.
Caleb’s wife, Maria, passed away a year and a half ago after a long and tumultuous battle with leukemia.
We were all gutted and missed their presence every day.
At the time of her passing, my husband Angel, short for Angelo, was still with us, and we promised to check on Caleb and the kids and make sure they were as ok as they could be.
Caleb and Maria have four children; their oldest, CJ, short for Caleb Jr., was 26 and in medical school, preparing to start his surgical residency.
Mario was 22. He had been recently drafted to the Philadelphia Eagles as the No.
1 draft pick, Callie was 20 and attended Juilliard with her bestie and my oldest Liah and their youngest Milo was 18 and a freshman at Morehouse with his best friend and my youngest AJ as they both were political science majors and had their hearts set on becoming lawyers and opening their own firm together one day.
I loved them as if they were my own and Angel and I vowed to make sure they were always okay, however things never work out how we anticipate because six months after losing Maria, I received a knock at my door that would change my and my kids lives forever when a state trooper delivered the news that Angel had been killed on impact by an 18 wheeler when the driver fell asleep at the wheel.
I remember the dread that filled me as I called Caleb that night to let him know Angel was gone, and when I did, Caleb broke down and sobbed, and I joined him because the normalcy we once knew was gone, and we were forced to find new normals without two of the people we loved more than anything.
He and Angel had been best friends since they were 12, and blood couldn’t have made them closer.
Cal and Angel had been each other’s protectors, as they both shared tumultuous home lives that consisted of unhappy two-parent homes where love had long been gone, replaced by arguing and fighting.
Losing Angel and Maria opened a door that allowed Caleb and me to keep in contact daily, checking on each other, sharing our grief, pain, anguish, good memories, and laughs, resulting in the building of a strong friendship through our immense losses and finding love in each other as our healing blossomed.
Angel and I had two kids, Liah, who was a sassy, silly 20-year-old who took the top spot as her daddy’s heart when she entered the world, screaming until he held her, and she instantly quieted down, finding solace in his arms. Liah was our little songbird; she had a voice so beautiful that she should have been training in classical opera, but could switch between styles, which earned her a full ride to Juilliard.
Liah didn’t think her father and I knew she was dating Mario on the low, as the kids say.
Still, Caleb, Maria, Angel, and I knew what was going on when they started making googly eyes at each other a little over 2 years ago.
We were just waiting for them to finally tell us that we believe that Mario and Liah had found comfort and healing in each other after losing their parents and Caleb.
I was grateful they had the love, support, and comfort of each other.
Then there was AJ, short for Angelo Jr.; he was 18 and also the apple of his father’s eye, planning to become an entertainment lawyer like his father.
After Angel passed away, his partners at the firm took AJ under their wing and promised him a spot as a partner, as long as he did the required work to earn it.
AJ was smitten with Callie, though he would never admit it; however, he somehow always ended up in New York on the weekends “visiting” his sister, as he would say.
Realizing he was taking his father’s death hard, he decided grief counseling was vital, as he didn’t believe his father would want to see him throw his freshman year of college down the drain due to grief and despair.
As you can see, Caleb and Maria Black were like family to us; our children were close, our friendships were more like family.
Yet, here we were, doing the unthinkable, with no desire to stop.
“Yes, baby, cum for daddy,” he whispered as he kissed my neck and smacked my pussy, causing my flood gates to open as I squirted everywhere.
As I closed my eyes and tried to regain my composure and catch my breath, I was abruptly thrust back into the land of pleasure as Caleb stuffed every inch he possessed between his muscular thighs into my hot, tight, creamy pussy from behind.
“FUCK, Cal, it’s so much,” I yelled as I tried to adjust to his length and girth. Caleb was long, thick, and stroking the breath from my body.
“It is, but you’re taking it so good, baby. This pussy is going to drive me crazy, Yanna, FUCK!” He groaned, “And she squirts like a broken faucet for me.”
Caleb had such a filthy mouth and knew exactly what to say to make me cum hard.
Another squirting orgasm ripped through me, and this time tears filled my eyes and began to fall because I’d never felt this kind of pleasure, and to know the man who was like a brother to Angel was the one providing it wrecked me.
“I know, baby, that guilt fucks with me too at times, but I can’t get enough of you.
You fit me like the most perfect glove. Your body reacts to even my slightest touch.
When I whisper in your ear, your body shivers.
When I make you laugh, your eyes sparkle.
There is nothing I won’t do to please you in or out this bedroom.
We didn’t plan for this to happen, but Yanna, I’m in love with you,” he stated, his voice genuine and full of passion and surrender.
Not being able to handle his words, I slid Caleb out of my pussy, turned, and dropped to my knees to please him with my mouth.
I knew when my words failed me, my desire to be daddy’s nasty little slut didn’t, and so I took Caleb down my throat inch by inch while gagging, choking, drooling, and spitting all over his dick, balls, gooch, and asshole as he lay back on his bed.
There was nothing off limits when Caleb and I fucked and made love, yes, love, because I was in the same boat as Caleb, I was in love with him, but accepting that would feel like the ultimate betrayal to Angel and Maria.
Pushing my guilt back down, I focused on pleasing Caleb.
He loved it when I sucked his dick sloppy and then ate his ass even sloppier.
Tonight I planned to worship him with my mouth and fingers.
Caleb loved mutual anal play, and on many occasions, I would cum just listening to him moan while I ate his ass until he had an explosive orgasm and painted my face.
“Yanna, baby, fuck, you gone make daddy cum all on that pretty face,” he said as I slid my tongue up and down his asshole, then slid it inside and tongue fucked it.
Caleb groaned loudly as he yanked my head up and shot his load all over my face and titties.
I massaged his thick cream all over my breasts and licked what was on my lips as Caleb leaned down to kiss me deeply and nasty with his semen all over my face.
He swiped some of the semen he’d left me as a gift for my hard work and placed his fingers up to my mouth as I sucked his semen off his fingers.
This man was dangerously fucking nasty and so willing to please me in any way I deemed necessary that it scared me.
I knew I would never find another man sexually secure enough to fuck me the way he did and healed enough to love me the way he does.
When I learned that Caleb was actively attending grief therapy, it was the push I needed to do the same.
Caleb was there to support me through my healing, and at times that included tear-filled nights, days where I would unintentionally snap at him because therapy drained me, but his gentility and kindness never wavered.