“Go where?” I ask, wide eyed and innocent. “Why did you bring me here?” I giggle again, my face flushing with heat. “Why are your pants unzipped?”
Everett’s swallow is loud and he starts to breathe heavily, his manhood throbbing against the inside of my thigh, still trapped inside his briefs. “I can’t…” he pants, his eyelids drooping. Long seconds pass, his right hand raking up the side of my hip. “We’re here to play a secret game, little girl. Just you and me.”
I attempt to wiggle out from beneath him, but his hold firms on my hip and he presses his bigger body down more securely, so I can’t go anywhere. “I don’t want to play a game,” I say, pouting. “You’re looking at me funny.”
The hand on my hip travels up to my breasts, his fingertip tracing a light circle on top of my nipples. “I’m looking at you like this because you’re so beautiful.”
I bite my lip. Flattered but uncertain. “Thank you.” Everett hums in his throat. Leans down to lick his tongue over the nipple he’s just made hard, grabbing my wrists and holding them down when I begin to squirm. “I-I don’t like how that makes me feel.”
“Are you sure?” He moves to my other breasts, teasing the nipple with side-to-side brushes of his lips. “If it makes your pussy feel warm and wet, that’s okay. That’s what we want.” His lower body grinds against mine. “That’s exactly what we want.”
My skin heats at such a rapid rate, the room spins a little bit around me. But he’s my anchor. My coach. My everything. His eyes keep me rooted to the spot, present in the moment, even when I want to cry out from all the sensations bombarding me at once. Eagerness. Confusion. Need. Love. Lust. “You said this is a game. How do we play it?” I whisper.
Everett brings his mouth to mine and teases it open with a light lick. Holding eye contact, he releases one of my wrists and reaches down, gently tracing a finger up and down along the slit of my sex, through my rapidly dampening panties. “I’ve been very lonely, sweetheart,” he says raggedly. “So lonely.”
A wrinkle forms between my brows and I wonder how much of this is true and how much is part of the game we’re playing. The thought of Everett being lonely turns my heart over in my chest. “But how can you be lonely when you have me?”
His laugh holds a wealth of darkness. “When I can’t have you all the way and you’re always around tempting me so sweetly, it makes me even lonelier. Do you understand?”
He cups my womanhood fully in his hand and kneads it in a tight grip, making me gasp and shove at his shoulders. “Daddy!”
“I need this all the way,” he growls through his teeth, visibly trying to keep himself under control, although there is a sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. “I won’t be lonely anymore if you let me inside this pretty cunt. You’re going to be so tight around my cock, I won’t be able to think at all, will I?”
“I don’t want you to be lonely,” I say, biting my bottom lip and looking down between our bodies with naïve confusion. “How c-can you be inside of it?”
Without taking his attention from my face, Everett removes his hand from my sex and clutches his own, stroking the gigantic ridge through his briefs. Then he slowly plows his hand down the front of the underwear and brings out his large, mottled erection. It’s so much bigger than I could have imagined that my thighs try to close automatically, my breath running short. I’m suddenly nervous. Unsure about how we’re going to fit together in the way I’ve always imagined. At least until Everett starts to stroke himself in that powerful fist, hypnotizing me, his panting breaths against my mouth causing my flesh to grow slicker and slicker. As this happens, he removes my panties completely, tugging them down and over my knees and ankles, leaving them in a heap on the bed.
“I’m only going to put in the tip,” he says choppily, positioning himself between my thighs, his hand guiding that turgid trunk of flesh toward my center.
“That goes inside me?” I whisper in awe. Maybe a touch of fear.
“That’s right, little girl.” He takes my mouth in a long breathless kiss and hesitantly, I start to participate, touching my tongue to his, opening my mouth a little wider each time he slants his male one over mine. “That’s my sweetheart,” he says thickly. “So good at kissing already and we’re only getting started. What else do you think you’ll be good at when we play together?”
The compliment makes one corner of my mouth tick up in a shy smile. “I don’t know,” I murmur, shifting to try and combat the growing ache between my legs. “What else is there?”