Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Bobby
Molly is everything I love about older women. Younger women almost scare me with their enthusiasm and eagerness to show their bodies. I prefer an older woman who leaves things to my imagination, because believe me, my imagination is better than anything you can show me in a short skirt and see-through shirt. Take for example, Molly’s pencil skirts. Those things have had me twisted inside for weeks. And then I get to peel one off her like she’s some kind of present under the Christmas tree? I’m officially feeling like that mind blown emoji.
“I need to take care of this condom but I don’t think I can feel my toes,” I huff, out of breath, sure I’m squashing her into the floor, but helpless to do anything about it.
“I think I have rug burn on my back,” Molly replies and then starts giggling, her body shaking.
Which makes her muscles clench around me, and I’m suddenly interested in another round right this very second. But not on the floor. Jesus, I didn’t even take her out on our date, and I just gave her rug burn fucking her on the floor. I’ll be damn lucky if she’s not pissed at me. I pull out of her warm body and make quick work of things before coming back to her with a fresh condom in hand. Gingerly, I pick her up off the floor, cradling her in my arms.
“What are you doing?” Molly’s suddenly wide awake, slapping at my bare chest. “Put me down. I can walk!”
“Nuh uh.” I sweep her out of the living room, only to face a hallway I’ve never seen before. “Point the way.”
She sighs, probably realizing I have no intention of putting her down. “Over there. Last door.”
I grin at her tone, liking that about her too. That motherly tone does something to me that might make me sick in the head if I examine it too long. I probably won’t be mentioning to Ashley that I get off on being scolded. Not really an anger management issue, unless you count a vigorous fucking as an inappropriate reaction.
My foot nudges the door open and her bedroom appears, looking just like her. Neat bed spread, decor simple but feminine, and her perfume infused through everything. Now’s probably not the time to tell her I stole her perfume. I put her down, pull back the covers, and help her get under them before sliding in behind her and spooning her backside. She yelps when I tighten my arm around her and tuck her head under my chin. My dick presses up against her luscious ass, already halfway to where I need him to be for round two.
“Shh. Just let me hold you for a second. I’ll be ready to go again in minutes. I promise.”
She begins to shake again. “Ah, youth.”
My hand roams, finding her breasts and getting a handful. I didn’t get a chance to pay them much attention before and I’d like to correct that error as soon as possible. Her nipples stiffen under my fingers. Molly lets out a soft moan and reaches behind her to grip my dick. Her shocked, “Oh!” makes me grin.
“Told you.” She scoffs and goes to roll onto her back, but I hold her in place. “Let me touch you for a bit. With all those flickering lights, I didn’t get to feel this incredible body of yours.”
“It was a bit like a strobe light,” she admits on a sigh as I roll her nipple between my fingers. I lean down and kiss the back of her shoulder. I can feel her tensing everywhere I touch her, and that just won’t do.
I roll her over onto her stomach, hands massaging her shoulders and back. Long sweeps up her spine, followed by deep rubs with my thumbs into her low back. When I feel her finally relaxing, I go a little lower, paying special attention to those curves that have teased me in her skirts.
“Bobby,” she starts. Probably to say something ridiculous about her body that I won’t agree with.
“Shh,” I say. My hands grip her hips and tug upward. “Lift up, baby.”
She does after a single second of hesitation. I feel between her legs, smiling smugly in the dim light of the moon when I feel how wet she is for me. I roll the condom on, making sure I keep one finger on her swollen clit. My other hand leaves her hip to notch myself at her entrance. I slide in, a little easier this time but no less impactful. Molly arches her back like a cat.
“Fuck, Molly,” I moan, eyes squeezing shut to try to tamp the urge to unleash on her.
“Don’t hold back. Please, Bobby,” she whimpers.
“Ah fuck.” I release the hold I had on myself and thrust hard and fast into her, watching the way her ass jiggles with each movement.
The slap of my flesh hitting hers is loud and glorious, and makes me want to slam into her harder. Her moans have turned to cries and for a split second I worry I’m being too hard. Molly takes that second to push her hips back onto my dick like she needs more, right fucking now. So I give it to her, over and over again until her body flattens into the bed with a loud, boneless cry and she’s pulsing around my cock. I grip her hips and take what I need to get there, spilling into her and collapsing on top of her yet again.
After a few hours of pillow talk that makes my cheeks hurt from smiling so much, we eventually fall asleep, but something wakes me up several times in the night. Each time, I use the opportunity to fuck her again since she seems to be awake too. Around four in the morning, she begs me to make it stop after she comes long and hard, nearly bent in half and her toes hitting the headboard.
She’s not in the bed when I wake up the next morning, which is disappointing. I had plans for her to ride my face so I could look up at her spectacular boobs.
I slip on a pair of pajama pants I found in her second drawer. They’re a bit tight and have dancing chickens on them, but I’m pretty sure my underwear is out in the living room so this will have to do.
I find Molly in the kitchen, a silky blue robe tied around her waist and her back to me as the coffee pot burbles on the counter. There’s a knock at the door that ruins my surprise of sneaking up behind her. Molly nearly jumps out of her robe at the knock and then sees me, jumping again. Her gaze instantly falls to the ridiculous outline of my dick in these chicken pants. I shrug. But she has bigger troubles because her front door is opening, and a woman’s voice is calling.
“Knock, knock, anyone home?”
Molly rushes past me, but I snag her arm and pull her back, sneaking a quick kiss on her lips. “Good morning, baby.”
Her entire face goes up in flames. “M-morning.”
I release her and she hustles to intercept a dark-skinned woman with twinkling eyes under a head wrap. But the woman sees me before Molly can make herself a human screen, her mouth dropping open as she gives me a full-body once over. Maybe I should cover up, but then again, Molly invited me over. It’s this woman who’s interrupting our morning together.
“Well, I guess that’s my answer about how last night’s date went, huh?” The woman’s face lights up and I instantly like her. “I’m Ramona, Molly’s BBF.”
I walk over and stick out my hand to shake hers. “Did you mean BFF?”
Ramona flashes a brilliant white smile. “Nope. I’m her best bitch forever. BFF is kind of basic, don’t you think?”
I take my hand back and wrap my arm around Molly’s waist, tugging her into my side. She lands with a soft grunt and wrings her hands in front of her waist. “Best bitch has a better ring to it,” I agree. “Did you want to join us for some coffee?”
Ramona instantly agrees. I look down to see Molly giving her a deadly glare. “It’s okay for Ramona to join us, right, fluffernutter?”
Molly’s elbow jabs me in the gut the same time Ramona barks out a belly laugh. “Oh my god, I love it. Please tell me she has a nickname for you too.”
“Actually, I need to get to work, so you better take that coffee to go, Ramona.” Molly finally finds her voice. Ramona and I just share a look and head for the coffee pot.
“She likes to call me Mister Whiskers,” I share as Ramona pours a cup and hands it to me black.
Molly interrupts. “No, I don’t. That was a joke.”
I shrug and take a sip. Ramona dumps several spoonfuls of sugar into her cup. “I call her baby and Sparkle too, but she hasn’t called me anything cutesy. Although, when she calls me Robert, that also does it for me.”
Ramona is looking back and forth between us like seeing us together has made her entire week. “Oh, I bet. Molly can do a really good teacher voice.”
“Yes!” I snap my fingers. “I’ve heard it and it’s...” I waggle my eyebrows.
Ramona points to the tight pants I’m wearing. “Oh, we’re all too aware of how much you like it, believe me. Not that I’m complaining.”
Molly drops her flaming face into her hand. “Don’t you have a practice to get to, Robert ?”
I put my mug down and stand right in front of her, cupping her face to make her look at me. “See, there you go again, using that tone, baby.” Her hands drop to my chest and the problem with the pants gets worse. I place a kiss on her lips, making her eyes go wide. “I do have practice to get to, but can I get a re-do on our date? Since we never made it out of the house?”
Ramona gasps behind me, but my focus is on Molly. Her skin feels like the face of the sun in my hands. I release her to wrap my arms around her waist and draw her into me one last time. “Please. I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Except if you wear a pencil skirt. Then I don’t think I can be held accountable for my actions.”
Molly huffs, but nods. “I’d like a date with you.”
I’m grinning ear to ear. I kiss her again, lingering a little longer this time. I just can’t help myself around this woman. “Okay, I’ll call you when I get out of practice.”
And then I let her go so I can grab my clothes off the floor where we left them last night, ignore the fact I can feel two sets of eyes on my ass in these pants, grab my keys, and head out to my truck. I don’t even care if the neighbors see me in Molly’s pajama pants. I’m too happy to be worried about the fashion police. An hour later, when I finally get to practice after showering and changing at my place, I still can’t wipe the grin off my face.
“What is wrong with your face?” Druggy asks in his heavy accent, warming up before sliding onto the ice.
“Nothing, dude. This is called a smile. You should try it sometime.” I copy his moves.
“I save all my smiles for Chloe and Ayana.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, we know.” Those two are the only humans on the planet that can make Druggy seem like a normal, happy guy.
“Uh oh, Bobby finally got a date with the MILF?” Cappy sing-songs as he skates by at a snail’s pace in his warm up pads.
I feel irritation at anyone else calling her a MILF, but oddly, there’s no pounding heart or sheet of red that coats my vision. “It was only a matter of time, boys. Watch and learn from the master.”
“More like master- bater ,” Dan-O snickers as he takes the ice.
“Says the guy spanking the monkey in our hotel room with your wifey on the phone,” I holler at his back. The guys just cheer him on. There’s no shame among hockey players.
“At least I have a wife, Roadie!”
The boys all hoot and holler, a few even shouting “burn!” like we’re in fifth grade. I step out onto the ice and grin like an idiot, happy for the day, happy to be with these assholes, and happy I have another date to plan with my woman.