“Is this okay?” she asks.Ummm, fuck yes, it’s okay.
“Of course.” She scoots a little closer and, before I know it, her hand is also resting on my thigh. I feel like I’m living in a parallel universe. One where I get the woman of my dreams. Where she’s not put off by my age or the fact that I’m her best friend’s father. A universe where she’s just a gorgeous, kind, wonderful woman and I’m the lonely man that wants her with everything in my being. I want to wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer. Maybe lift her up and onto my lap so that I can cradle her in my arms. Instead, I sit here, stock still, watching as her eyes slowly close and her breathing evens out.
“Violet,” I whisper after a few minutes. There’s no response and I know that she’s out like a light. The movie continues to play in the background, and I sit here in the exquisite torture of having Violet touch me, but without me being able to touch her.
I move my hand under the blanket draped over us both and quickly grab my dick, giving it a firm squeeze. I’d give anything to unzip these jeans right now and give it some breathing room but with Violet so close, peacefully sleeping, that’s not going to happen. I keep my eyes on the sleeping angel draped along my side and resolve to sit in discomfort the rest of the night.
TWELVE
Violet
When I open my eyes it takes me a moment to place where I am. It isn’t long before I realize that I’m lying on the sofa in Dante’s living room. The film has been switched off and I’m spread out on the sofa with the soft throw blanket covering me. I sit up, just a little too quickly, and the room starts a lazy spinning.
Well, I haven’t been asleep long enough to get hung over. I’m definitely still a little drunk.
I look out the window and see that it’s still dark out, at least I haven’t been sleeping here all night. The next thing I look for is Dante himself but he’s nowhere to be found in the room. I feel around on the coffee table in the dark and my hand hits an empty wine glass, almost sending it to the floor, before I grab onto my phone. I look at the time and realize I’ve only been asleep for about an hour.
I think over the evenings activities and try to suppress the tinge of embarrassment I feel. After Bianca and I sent Hollie off on her date, I made my excuses to Bianca about having to meet with some people from class and quickly changed into an outfit that I thought would show off my best assets. I knew I was being ridiculous but I was finally, after all these years, spending some alone time with Dante that didn’t involve work and I really wanted him to see me as more than just some kid.
It had been a great evening and I know I drank way more wine than I should have. By the time we made it to the living room to watch the movie I was feeling emboldened. I probably should have sat at the end of the couch, but instead, I plopped down right there in the middle, forcing him to cozy up to me. Being that close to Dante had been intoxicating. Or maybe that was just the wine. Either way, I was inclined to push the envelope.
Getting under the blanket with him? Putting my head on his shoulder? The smell of his cologne? This all left my heart beating faster and my body flushed with arousal. My nipples had become so hard it felt like they could cut glass. I’m not sure if it was my wine-soaked brain or maybe just wishful thinking but I could have sworn that Dante was sporting an impressive erection in his jeans. One that I might haveaccidentallybrushed against when arranging the blanket over us both.
I wanted to savor every moment of the closeness we were sharing but once my head was laying against his shoulder, his steady and perpetual heartbeat lulled me into a dreamless sleep.
Since I haven’t been asleep that long, I figure he must still be awake so I decide to go find him. I raise off the sofa and stumble a little, letting out a giggle, my head swimming.
I don’t find Dante in the kitchen so checking his office is my next stop. I pad up the stairs on my bare feet and open the door leading to the office which is as empty as the kitchen. I let out a sigh and am about to head back downstairs when I hear a noise coming from down the hallway. I can’t quite tell what it is, maybe Dante is talking to someone? A bolt of jealousy runs through me as I think of him on the phone with some woman. I just want to check. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?
I make my way to his bedroom as quietly as I can and stop outside when I see that the door is closed. I’m considering whether I should knock or not when I hear the weird little sound again. No, it doesn’t sound like he’s talking. It’s more like a groan, maybe? What if he’s sick? I mean, we both drank an awful lot tonight.
I slowly turn the knob on his door, if he’s sick I don’t want to startle or embarrass him. I just want to make sure he’s okay, that’s all. I push the door open, inch by inch, trying to catch a glimpse inside. Once the space is wide enough for me to ease my head in, I can freely look around but still don’t see Dante. I’m confused until I hear the same grunting again and see a door across the room that’s cracked open with light streaming out of it.
I can only assume that’s his bathroom and he’s in there throwing up. I know I should turn around. I really do. Any other time I never would have even opened his bedroom door but I’m filled with a liquid courage tonight that seems to be encouraging me to do things I never would otherwise.
I’m still a little concerned that he’s ill and needs assistance so I quietly move across the plush carpeting to where his bathroom door is cracked open. Inside is something that I never could have anticipated seeing.
There in the shining light of the bathroom stands the man of my dreams, shirt off, pants slid below his hips, hunched over, one hand bracing himself on the sink, while the other hand is stroking the long shaft of his cock.
“Ugh.” There’s that noise again. I was wrong. He’s not sick. Not at all. If the expression on his face is any indication, he’s deep into his own pleasure. His eyes are closed tight, jaw clenched, and his face is flushed as he glides his hands up and down his long shaft.
I’ve imagined Dante’s cock a hundred times, hell, maybe even a thousand, but nothing my imagination could conjure can compete with the reality of what I’m seeing. His cock isn’t the first one I’ve seen in person but it’s the only one I’ve ever really craved seeing. Now that I have, how could I ever look at another man’s?
It looks huge, even in his large and obviously capable hands. I can see the veins running down the sides as he picks up his pace. The head is so red that it almost looks angry. Every few strokes, he takes his hand up to the head and circles it, collecting drops of pre-cum and bringing it back down his solid length, causing it to glisten in the light. Whenever he circles the head, his body gives a little shiver, like the pleasure is almost too much for him to take.
My breathing has picked up and I open the door just a little wider so that I can get a better look. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to help myself. Whether it’s the wine or the fact that this is my fantasy come to life, I don’t know and I don’t really care. My entire body feels both hot and cold at the same time. I know without putting my hands to my pussy that I’m already drenched.
His firm grip continues his up and down stroke and I can’t help but bring my hand up to lightly caress my aching nipples. My own teasing touch sends a shot of lust straight between my legs and I rub my thighs together, looking for a little relief.
I should leave. I should get out of here before he catches me, but I can’t. I’m transfixed by the rhythmic ministrations of his hand. I’m not even sure I’ve blinked since I’ve been standing in the doorway. I’ve never been so horny in my entire life. I would get on my knees right here and now and beg him to fuck me if I thought he would do it. Instead, I take my hand away from my breasts and move it slowly down my skirt, slipping my fingers underneath the band of my panties, until my fingers are buried in my soaking wet slit.
The pleasure of touching myself while watching Dante do the same thing is unbearable and a whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it.
Dante freezes mid-stroke, his head turning toward me. His expression lies somewhere between embarrassment and horror. Then his eyes travel to where my hand is shoved inside my skirt and his expression changes to one of pure desire. His brown eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Still, he just stands there and stares at me, his hand on his magnificent cock, waiting for... something, I don’t know what.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. He lets out a groan so deep I can feel it in my chest and before I know it, his hand has returned to slowly moving up and down his angry member. His movements restart my own and I rub my hand up and down my dripping pussy, making sure my fingers slide across my engorged clit. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever taken part in, and I never want it to end.
His dark eyes are locked on me and neither of us can look away from the other. I move my other hand up to my top and slowly drag it down, revealing my bra-clad tits to him, before slipping my hand inside and gently squeeze my nipple, letting out another whimper.