Dirty Erotic Oneshots
- Author: Mistress_ Red
Book online «Dirty Erotic Oneshots». Author Mistress_ Red
His palm cupped my mound and I arched my back at the pleasure of it.
"I gave myself a massage last night," I whimpered as he rocked the heel of his palm against me. "I like it better when you do it." He held down my hip in one of his big hands and let his other brush up and down the side of my pussy. His other rubbed up and down my pussy making me shiver. I knew that he was in total control of my body, and I liked it.
"How's this?" he croaked pressing down on her clit. My moan of pleasure was as good of a response as any and repeated himself. "I wanna see you," he whispered. Before I could blink my spandex were on the floor. I didn't even have time to feel embarrassed.
His hands were back on me in a second, pulling my pussy lips apart and baring me to his hungry gaze. His eyes blazed and then his finger was inside me, stroking me and teasing me until I was wordless. He pulled his hand away and then I was even more full, he added another finger and his thumb brushed against my clit making me jerk.
"Oh fuck," I moaned.
"Okay," he promised. I giggled. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to an orgasm. Before I could get there, he pulled his hands away. My mind scrambled to make sense of my sudden emptiness and he pulled the straps of my sports bra down my arms exposing my breasts to the world. I shimmied my arms the rest of the way out and he leaned over licking one nipple then the other.
I reached out and unzipped his pants trying to wrestle them off his hips he chuckled at my failed efforts and pulled them down, he stepped out of them on climbed onto the table still licking and sucking on my breasts. His boxer tented obscenely and I reached inside. His cock was hard, but still somehow soft to the touch and ran my fingers along it marveling at the way it felt in my hand.
He jumped off the table, whipped off his boxers and then jumped back on. Then he was kissing me, and he laying on top of me touching every part of my body. I could feel his cock pressed against my stomach and his hands in my hair. I felt breathless. Bob pulled away from me and looked down between his bodies.
His cock was in his hand and he was aiming it at my pussy. He slid into me in one thrust burying his cock in my pussy. His cock felt so different from my dildo at home, warmer and better and then he pulled out and thrust back in and all comparisons fell away. This was something completely new.
"Again," I begged. He complied. We didn't say anything while we fucked. There was no need. I was floating and then I felt his teeth close around my nipple pulling me back down to earth and I came, smothering my cries against his t-shirt. His hips sped up to fervor. With a cry of "Oh fuck!" he pulled out of me and fisted his cock spurting stream after stream of cum onto my stomach. I watched it pool in my belly button and then looked up at him. He sat back on his heels and stared at me.
I could barely catch my breath and my body was still humming with pleasure. I stared back at him and smiled. He didn't smile. He reached out splayed his hands across my abs. His hands rubbed in circles, like he was rubbing his cum into my skin. He slid them up and massaged my breasts.
I grabbed one of his hands and brought it to my mouth pulling him forward. I sucked each of his fingers into my mouth and licked his palm clean. His eyes were rapt, and I loved that I could make him lose control like that. His cum didn't taste good, but it didn't taste bad either I decided.
"I should clean you up," he said, his tone implying that he didn't exactly want to. He rolled off the table anyways and wet a towel in the sink. He cleaned my pussy tenderly and the warmth of the towel felt soothing to my swollen lips. He wiped the cum out of my belly button which I was grateful for, but when he lifted the towel to wipe the rapidly drying cum off my boobs I stopped him.
"No, leave it." He didn't ask questions and I was glad because I had no idea why I liked the idea of his cum staying on my skin. I pulled my sports bra back on and found my spandex on the floor. He was buttoning up his pants when I leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss was gentle and our tongues tangled lazily against each other before I pulled away.
"See you on Monday," I called over my shoulder as I unlocked the door and left. He nodded at me a grin creeping across his face.
"I look forward to it."
At 18 years old you think you can take on the world; that you're immortal. Usually something happens that, in no uncertain terms, tells you that you're wrong. A broken bone, or a near-death experience in a car, or...
...or your Mom suddenly dying. One moment she was with us and life was good, and the next she was being rushed to the hospital. Soon after she was dead, the victim of a brain hemorrhage. The doctor said it could have happened to anyone.
But it wasn't just anyone...it was Mom! My Mommy...
Dad took us back home after we left the hospital. It was just him and his two daughters now...well, stepdaughters. He had met Mom 11 years ago, when Stacy and I (I'm Robyn) were just 5 and 7, and they had married almost 2 years later. We didn't remember our biological dad (BioDad, as Mom used to call him), who took off before Stacy was born. In our minds Cal was our Dad.
It took a while for all of us to get to sleep that first night. I just lay in bed, tossing and turning. Finally, it was 1 AM and I had to pee.
As I left my room I could sense someone was in the kitchen. My eyes adjusted to the light and I could see Dad shuffling about in there.
"Dad?" I called. He turned to me and seemed to pause. I moved closer. As I did so I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. And a moment later I realized he also wasn't wearing pants...or underwear!
"Ack!" I gurgled, averting my eyes. "Dad! What're you doing in here, naked?!" He didn't answer. "Dad?" I turned back to him, keeping my eyes on his face. He just stood there.
"DAD!" I yelled.
He dropped like a stone. As he hit the floor he started screaming and screaming, his limbs flailing. Stacy bolted out of her room, looking as terrified as I felt.
I was about to call 9-1-1 when Dad stopped. Just...stopped. No movement, no noise. I leaned close and could hear him breathing slowly. He was asleep.
He seemed to be okay so we covered him with a blanket and went back to our own beds, frightened and confused.
~~~~~~
In the morning Dad asked if he had been sleepwalking last night, as he had woken up on the kitchen floor. We said he had, and told him what had happened.
"I'm sorry girls," he said, looking extremely tired. "I used to do that when I was growing up; haven't done it in at least 15 years. Hopefully it won't happen again, but if it does please don't try to wake me. My doctor said that the shock could..."
We waited. Dad looked sheepish. "I have a heart murmur. A shock like that and I could have a heart attack. Just leave me to wander about...maybe lightly direct me back to bed, but no loud noises or jolting, okay?"
Stacy and I looked at each other. We could lose Dad too! We turned back to him and nodded. We would make sure he stayed safe.
~~~~~~
We stayed home from school and Dad from work for a few days. When one of us would cry the other two would group hug so we could share strength. Dad hadn't sleepwalked since that first night.
When the day of the funeral arrived we buried Mom and said our goodbyes. The rain made it seem like the whole world was crying, not just us. During the reception I decided to ask Gran, Dad's Mom, about his sleepwalking.
"Oh dear, he's doing that again, is he?" she asked, looking around for Dad.
I took her hand. "Gran, is it true that waking him up while he's sleepwalking could kill him?"
She looked sad. "Yes, dear. I thought he grew out of it, but the recent loss of your Mom must have affected him deeply." She thought for a moment. "He'll need your help Robyn. Please do what you can for him." It seemed like she wanted to say something else, but instead she patted my hand and turned away.
~~~~~~
That night I awoke to the sound of the kitchen chairs being moved around. I grabbed my bathrobe and went to see what was going on.
Dad was in the kitchen again, as naked as before, moving the table and chairs into a new configuration. I realized as he pushed the end of the table against the wall that it made more space in the kitchen's dining area, but now there was only room for 3 chairs. Was his subconscious trying to adapt to the new family dynamic by doing this?
When he was done I whispered that he should go to bed, and I gently steered him that way. He complied and then I did likewise.
~~~~~~
Dad didn't sleepwalk for a couple of days, and then one night I awoke to find that I was not alone in my bed!
I turned to see him sleeping next to me in the dim light coming through the window from the street lamp. He was just sleeping, not in that weird in-between state. He was, again, naked.
He was on top of the covers and I was under them, so I just let him sleep there and returned to dreamland. In the morning he was gone.
~~~~~~
Dad, Stacy, and I returned to work and school, respectively. It was hard, but the familiarity of school made it easier as the day went on.
Not so
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