His eyes narrowed at me. “I don’t like that tone, young lady. I’m older than you.”
“So? You’re like eighteen years older. It doesn’t matter.”
He said underneath his breath, but I caught it, “You don’t have to remind me.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he squeezed my hand and pulled away. “Goodnight, Mia.”
I watched his back disappear out of the hallway, going downstairs as I whispered to an empty room, “Goodnight, James.”
James
I relaxed my fingers from a tight fist and stared at it.
Soft. Sweet. Innocent.
And your friend’s seventeen-year-old daughter.
Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and erased all impure thoughts about a certain doe-eyed vixen with soaking clothes. But it didn’t help. Her cherry-scented perfume was all over in the car, and I fucking hated myself for wanting that perfume in every nook and cranny of my car, my clothes, my skin.
“Hell,” I said to myself, glaring at the two-story house where my sin lived. “You’re going to hell for your thoughts, James.”
I sighed and messaged her dad and my close friend, Clyde Miller, that his daughter was home safe before shutting down my phone. I had a long night, and I intended to lash out everything on the red-haired woman that had called me.
I would need it. Especially if I was going to torture myself for the next year by teaching a bunch of highschoolers.
PORN STAR NAME
MIA
Waking up with soaked underwear was not ideal. Especially when the reason for the particular soaked underwear was my father’s bestfriend, James Fox.
Yes, even his name sounds like a porn star.
Biting my lip, I turned on my back and took a deep breath. I could try it again. Surely, it would be easy after trying to touch myself so many times. Maybe too easy.
You can do it, Mia. Just think about his handsome face, his delicious stern voice, his dark hair and—fuck, yes, mmm.
My hands felt small and gentle, cupping my perky breasts. I imagined his large palms—with thePatek Philippeon his wrist that I had gifted him on his thirty-fifth birthday—fondling my breasts, the veins on his forearms tensing as he pinches my hard little nipples between his fingers.
A whimper tore out of my lips as my thighs rubbed together, my pussy getting wetter and wetter when I thought about him instructing me how to touch my pussy.
Nonono, in my dream, he calls ithis pussy.
Yes,hispussy. My feminist self really yeets out whenever I have horny thoughts about him.
My eyes flickered to the side, watching my reflection on the closet mirror. My cheeks were flushed, eyes clouded with lust, my palms touching my naked breasts and lowering over my stomach. Caressing the smooth skin and shivering at the image of James in my head.
I parted my legs like he would, keeping his strong hand over my thigh and peeling off my satin shorts with my soaked underwear, mocking me for ruining them with my juices. Oh, how deliciously wicked he’d look with that dark look in his eyes. Even forcing the underwear in my willing mouth when he would go down on me and make me cum with his hot tongue.
Letting out a small moan, I slid my hand inside my underwear, humming when the pad of my finger made contact with my aching clit. The sensitive nub was swollen and buzzing with pleasure as I rubbed it slowly, thinking about his encouraging words in his deep, husky voice.
Just like that, Mia.
That’s it.
That’s how good girls touch their cunts.
No, no, no, keep going, I didn’t tell you to stop.