“Birthday dinner with friends, and she’ll likely be late.”
“Your mother doesn’t have any friends,” Dash retaliates.
“People on her boards. Fuck if I know.” I throw my hands up.
I take a few steps and plop down on the sectional, smearing butterscotch and strawberry and chocolate ribbons under me. I’m wearing old torn jeans over my light-pink leotard and tights.
Covering my face with my messy arms, I lean back into the sofa. “Everything is such a fucking mess.’
“How so?” Dash counters. He rises and comes to stand in front of me.
“My whole life. Dancing. Mother. Dad. Lance. You.” I can’t look him in the eyes.
“I’m not a fucking mess,” Dash counters.
I peep at him from between my arms. He’s doused in orange, red, and brown syrup.
“Yes, you are,” I tell him as I sit up. I wipe a little blob of butterscotch from his upper lip with my finger and show him.
His face falls into seriousness and he grabs my hand, shoving the finger in my mouth. “Suck it off,” he commands.
I raise my eyebrows at him as I do as he says. Dash unbuckles his pants faster than I can catch my breath and his long hard gorgeous cock is suddenly in my face.
He grabs my bun and yanks it loose with his fingers as he pushes his giant erection into my mouth. I tip my head back and let him fuck me with abandon.
He groans and grips his shaft with one hand as he holds my hair with the other. “Fill your tummy, Sam,” he says almost bitterly.
He tears my pink leotard off my shoulders, freeing my breasts so he can pinch and squeeze at my nipples. “Fuck,” he says, holding me off his bulging dick. His testicles are fully cinched. “Lay back, Taye.”
I do, falling into the smears of ice cream toppings and turning Mother’s sofa into a tie-dye with my long hair. Dash yanks down my pants and pulls my leotard and tights down to my ankles. Without taking them off, he pushes my legs so that I bend at the knee, and he slips between my legs.
“I want to suck your sweet pussy, Sam. I want you to cream in my mouth, cum on my tongue.”
I arch my back in response and my nipples harden into buds. Dash lays his mouth on me and it’s as intense as it is tender. He nuzzles, licks, and sucks, plunging into the depths of me with his fingers and his tongue. His mouth is magic and I grind into his face without reservations. I want to cum on his tongue and have him drink me, but more than anything, I want him buried deep inside me.
“Oh, my God,” I exclaim as I ride his face.
He sucks tenderly on my clit as he thrusts two fingers deep inside me, massaging my G-spot until I see black spots when I open my eyes.
“Dash, I’m gonna come,” I moan.
Dash immediately removes his mouth. My body trembles with his absence. He yanks me upright and positions me over the back of the couch, my knees supporting me on the cushions. He slaps my ass and rubs his hand up and down my center spreading my arousal and ice cream syrup in all directions.
“I want to fuck you, Taye.”
It’s not a question. I can’t say no. I don’t want to say no, even though I have no idea where this will lead us.
He spreads me wide, keeping two fingers on my swollen clit as he pushes all the way inside. He’s huge and I feel so full, his hips flush with my ass. He grabs one hip as he starts to move his pelvis like the expert dancer he is. Dash pounds into me hard enough to move the paint-spattered sectional across the floor, bunching up the ruined carpet.
My orgasm hits me like a mac truck with a fire that starts in the base of my spine and sends fierce but gentle shockwaves throughout every inch of my body until I’m shaking, trembling, and overwhelmed with pleasure.
“That’s right, Princess. Come on my cock,” Dash grits in my ear. He lowers his head and bites the lobe of my ear right as the elevator pings and the doors slide open in front of us. I hold my breath, believing that my life as I knew it is now completely over.
Please don’t let it be my dad.
“Holy shit,” Dash exclaims. I almost forgot he was there. On top of me. Inside me.
But the doors give way to Mother, enraptured, held in the impassioned embrace of some man who isn’t my father. They’re making out as if starring in a Passion Flix film. He’s all over her, although mostly obscured by her body. And Mother, out of form, seems uncharacteristically drunk. She stumbles in her six-inch heels, still sucking face with…Lance?