Caveman

And my sins? What sins? If he means drinking and cursing and being a fucking bad father, sure. That’s me. Hammer it home, why don’t ya?

But why pretend he knows me from before? Is this some sick game Ross made up to pass the time? How far will he go with this? Why so obsessed?

She’s still silent when I park outside the house, when we herd the kids inside and settle them in front of the TV to watch their favorite program.

And that makes me wanna fuck her here and now, and to hell with it all.

So when she says, “I’m going up to get their coloring books if you wait a minute longer,” I say fuck it, and follow her upstairs.

I’m in too deep already, sinking deeper by the minute. The way her dress hugs her curves and shows off her legs, the way her heels draw my gaze to her shapely calves as she climbs the steps, the way her eyes widen when she glances back and finds me following her…

Priceless.

So fucking hot.

She says nothing, so I just keep after her. She heads first into the bathroom to wash her hands, and I step inside with her.

Her gasp is loud as I pin her against the sink, grinding my urgent hard-on against her pert ass. She braces herself, and her gaze meets mine in the mirror, startled but heating up quickly, her cheeks reddening.

Man, I just love how she reacts to me, wanting but also a bit scared, like she’s not sure what to do with me.

But I sure as hell know what to do with her. To her. I nip at the back of her neck and she shivers. When I reach around her to cup her tits, her nipples are hard like pebbles, pressing into my palms.

“Matt…” Her breathing is chopped, and I feel her chest rising and falling under my hands.

I squeeze her tits. “Something to say?”

“The kids…”

I like how she can’t formulate coherent sentences. “What about them?”

“Downstairs. Waiting.”

“We’ll be quick,” I promise and take away my hands to flip her dress up and stroke her over the cotton of her panties.

Goddammit, this dress has been driving me crazy, and her little girl panties, blue with flowers and lace, make my dick ache.

“We shouldn’t…” she tries again, cut short when I slip two fingers under the cotton and rub them over her pussy, over her throbbing clit. “Oh God…”

She’s slick already, and I fingerfuck her, lightly, just pushing the tips of my fingers inside her and back out. She bends her head, a broken moan escaping her, and I push my fingers in deeper.

She takes them. Her legs spread wider, and she rocks on my fingers like she can’t help herself.

Yeah, I’m loving this. It’s fucking powerful. My dick is leaking in my pants, my balls are tight, and that’s enough of foreplay.

Quick and rough, against the bathroom sink. Maybe this will shake my brain hard enough to dislodge this need for her that’s stuck like a bullet in my head, prodding at my every thought.

I pull my fingers out, yank her panties down and stroke her pretty ass. She gasps and rocks back, into my hand. Innocent and yet dirty. Sweet and yet eager. She’s discovering sex and all the ways her body can give her pleasure, all the little triggers that turn her on, and she’s not holding back.

Because she doesn’t think it’s improper or filthy or wicked. Because she’s still pure as the driven snow, on the cusp of womanhood, with her whole life in front of her.

And I’m her downfall. Which turns me on even more, and I don’t wanna know what that says about me.

This is such a mindfuck.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” I breathe in the perfect small shell of her ear, tugging the small golden stud with my teeth.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“You want it?”

“Yes, yes!”

With a grunt, I push my fingers inside her again, opening her up for me, fumbling with my other hand inside the bathroom cabinet. Snatching a condom, I tear it open with my teeth and put it on one-handed.

Dragging my fingers out of her wet pussy, I slick her up more, holding on to my control by a fast fraying thread. Her moans are growing desperate as she fucks herself on my fingers, her pussy swallowing them, pulsing around them, tightening.

The knowledge she’s about to come is a jolt to my balls. I pull my fingers out of her, making her yelp.

She’ll come on my fucking dick or not at all.

I replace my fingers with my cock, rubbing the head over her opening, over her clit and back until she’s whining deep in her throat, as if begging me to move.

So I push into her deep, in one mind-blowing stroke, until I’m buried balls-deep in her hot pussy.

My chest is flush with her trembling back, my hands on her hips as I keep her still, trying to pull the shattered bits of my mind back together. I can’t think, can’t speak, my heart beating in time with the pulse in my cock, the pleasure of it threatening to pull me under.

Holy fucking hell.

She whines, whimpers, struggles to move, but my grip on her hips is iron. If she moves… if she as much as wiggles those hips, I’m gone. About to fucking explode inside her.

Her hair smells of something flowery. When I lick a stripe on her neck, her skin tastes salty and sweet. Tastes like pretty girl. If they bottled the essence of a sexy woman, this would be it. Flowers, sweetness and the heady scent of her sex, musk and burnt sugar.

I wanna tell her all this. How beautiful she is. How sexy. How much I fucking want her. But I guess she can feel the evidence of that, throbbing deep inside her pussy, and it’s a moot point, since I can’t find words.

All my focus is in not coming yet, and as I recover, I pull out and slam back inside her, groaning.

Oh yeah. Jesus Christ, this is so good it’s off the fucking charts. I thrust inside her, bottoming up, hissing through my teeth at the sensation of her inner walls squeezing my dick.

I bite her neck, licking the spot, feeling like a goddamn lion marking his female as I rock my hips faster. The heat rolling down my spine, between my legs, is spreading like wildfire. My blood burns under my skin. My cock is so swollen I’m in real pain, and it’s twitching, tell-tale signs of my final and utter loss of control.

“Tay…” I groan. I’m pounding into her, hoping I’m not hurting her because, hell, I’m a train gone off the tracks. Reaching around her, I find her clit and press it, rub it. “Come with me. Come now.”

And she does with a breathy moan, her pussy tightening around my cock, clamping down until I can’t stop the orgasm from rolling through me like a fucking avalanche, shattering me. My whole body is one giant heartbeat as it tightens, clenches, bows inward—then releases as I shoot my load, a freefall into relief.

Time slows, and I’m suspended in pleasure. It rolls through me, down my back, making my dick jerk, and I don’t want it to end.

The weight that’s been crushing my chest, that’s been pressing on my shoulders, lifts for now, the sadness, the anger, the incomprehensible but soul-numbing guilt gone.

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