Sugar Daddies (7 page)

It’s one of the reasons I love him.

I do love them dirty.

Rick met my eyes and I knew the drill immediately. He was ready to fuck, and he was ready to fuck hard.

Katie was jumpy, she flinched as I climbed up beside her, squirming away before I’d even touched her. I probably wouldn’t touch her, either, not this evening.

I let my eyes wander over her, unapologetically blatant. I loved the way her breath caught, the flash of nerves across her face.

“Take your nightdress off,” I said, and she did. Pulled it up and over her head without hesitation. She was blessed, perfect tits. Tawny nipples, pebbled and ripe. She wriggled out of her knickers without being asked. Good girl. Her thighs clamped shut as I stared at her pussy. She was shaven perfectly smooth, her mound clammy and swollen. She’d been fucking playing alright. She started as Rick draped an arm over her, but she was all smiles for him. He took her shoulder and pulled her closer, and she moved for him, sinking back against the pillows, her thigh pressed to his.

His eyes met mine and I gave him a smirk, knowing what was coming long before she did.

He’d be a surprise to her.

He was exactly that. Her eyes widened as he uncoiled like a snake, pressing his mouth to hers and pushing his tongue inside. She gave the cutest little moan, and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him claim her mouth like a man consumed. He took her swollen tit in his hand, and squeezed her, pinched her nipple until she squirmed, his breath deep as he sucked her tongue between his lips. She parted her thighs as his hand moved lower, letting out a squeak as hungry fingers slipped inside her slit, seeking out the ripe little bud of her clit. He spread her for my pleasure, and there she was, a pink little rosebud, glistening like the sweetest jewel. My mouth watered.

He pressed a thumb to her, circling her with the ball against her hood, and she was wet and squirmy, a horny little bitch who’d had this coming and knew it. Her fingers gripped at his shoulders, her heels grinding against the covers, moaning as he slipped two fingers inside her and pumped deep. She was tight, but she was horny, spreading wider to let him in. He changed his angle, coaxing with his fingers until her breath hitched. Rick’s some kind of fucking g-spot dowser. He never fucking fails.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, and she liked that. She smiled, and there was a playfulness in her eyes, partially hidden behind the nerves.

We’d have fun with this one. So much fun.

Rick kissed his way down her throat, tickling her with his tongue bar. He sucked her tight little nipple into his mouth, and nipped her, and she liked that, too. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, whimpering as he moved down enough to blow on her clit. His tongue found the spot, a silver dart seeking her out. I loved the way his tongue lapped, quick little jerks, bringing her up. The girl was a squirmer, hands gripping the sheets as she bucked against his face. I breathed in the musky scent of her, her wet little noises nothing short of a delight. Her eyes were closed tight, head tipped back, lost to everything but the sensation.

Until I called her name.

She looked at me with a start, and there was a gasp, a flutter of fear, but I didn’t move, just met her gaze and held it. Demanded it.

I watched her as she crested and then came with a shuddering moan, and she didn’t look away from me, not even when Rick slipped a third finger inside her and ploughed her hard, his wrist a fucking piston, jamming in just the right spot. She moaned and squirmed, and gave us another delight. The girl was a gusher, soaking Rick’s fingers as she climaxed, and her whole body jerked and trembled, waves of endorphins rippling through tight flesh.

She positioned herself without words, instinctive fingers coaxing Rick between her legs. She must have felt the steel of his Prince Albert, because her eyes widened afresh, straining for a look before he sunk balls deep. Too late.

“Fuck,” she hissed. “Oh God.”

He took her knees and pressed them to her chest, and he fucked her. Fucking hell, he fucked her, and her face was a picture. The realisation nothing short of a wonder as the man took her hard and deep, the hard ridge of his belly slapping her thighs. She turned her head towards me and bit her knuckle, her hair rippling on the pillow as he rammed his way home. He pressed his mouth to her ear and breathed, clammy hair pressed to hers.

My hand worked my cock, heady with sounds and smells and horny fucking visuals, hyperaware of the slam of Rick’s cock inside that sweet little cunt and the way his balls were tightening.

He looked at me, and I looked at him, and I nodded. He smiled.

He pulled Katie’s knuckles from her mouth, and guided her dainty little fingers to my cock. She met my eyes for just a second before they tightened around me, and I gripped her hand in mine, working her up and down my shaft in time with Rick’s thrusts.

She was a good girl. She gripped tight and let me use her, grinding my dick against her palm until my balls were aching.

Rick reached the edge, and Katie moaned like a bitch on heat as he changed angle. She curled her toes, and arched her back and bit her lip, but she didn’t stop working my dick.

“Fuck,” Rick groaned, and it sent me over the edge, spurting thick into Katie’s sweet little palm.

Rick’s hand slapped the wall, bracing himself, and he came inside her tight little snatch with a hiss of expletives that turned the air blue.

Dirty-mouthed little cunt.

And then he collapsed on her, catching his breath while she caught hers.

Long seconds passed before he laughed. An easy sound that chased every scrap of tension from the room.

I sank down into my spot, an arm under my head as my cock twitched and settled, smiling as Katie held her cum splattered fingers up to the light.

Rick’s eyes sparkled as he guided her fingers to his mouth.

And then he licked them clean.

A couple of hours sleep is never kind, but neither was my body clock. I opened my eyes as the first hint of light cut through the drapes, and my mouth felt like I’d been sucking on a baboon’s ass.

Carl. Score: 001 and a half. Good wine, scary hot. Minus half a point for gakky wine-dry mouth in the morning.

I risked a glance over my shoulder, relieved to find it was Rick’s breath on my naked skin. The room was baking like a sauna, and I was burning up, even without covers, hyper-aware of the heat as his legs tangled with mine. I risked a shimmy towards the edge of the bed, but he stretched in his
sleep, and his arms captured me, pulled
me tight against his chest. Shit.

I could feel his cock against my ass, and he wasn’t soft. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe another good fuck would seal the deal well and truly.

But Carl. God Almighty, Carl… I wasn’t sure my freshly-fucked pussy was ready for that.

I lay statue-
still and listened, and there was Carl’s breath, steady and deep. He sounded close, surely just the other side of Rick, and the thought spiked my heartrate. Yeah, I definitely wasn’t ready for that. My fingers tingled at the memory of his solid monster dick, the rush of adrenaline as he pumped himself off in my hand.

I held my breath and eased myself from Rick’s grip, inching away so bloody slowly that it felt ridiculous. My concentration was at its peak, a tentative foot on the carpet as I made to stealth-exit, but no. Rick’s fingers found my arm and squeezed and he was after me, voice sleepy and thick.

“Pumpkin carriage awaiting, Cinderella?”

I lay back beside him, keeping my voice low so as not to wake
the beast beyond. “Pumpkin leaves before midnight. I well and truly missed that ride.”

I felt his smile against my shoulder. “You definitely got a ride…”

I couldn’t stop myself smiling. “Yes. Yes I did.”

He propped himself up on his elbow, and I felt his eyes on me in the darkness. “How about round two?” His fingers grazed my arm, tickled my ribs
, then crept down my belly, but I shifted away.

“I have to go,” I whispered.

“Bailing on me in the darkness?”

I ghosted a laugh. “It’s morning, and I’m not bailing.”

“Who the hell calls this morning?”

“Samson,” I said. “He definitely calls this morning.”

“Ah.” He rolled onto his back. “Samson would have to get used to a Sunday morning lie in if he was mine.”

“He’s so worth the early start.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

I dropped both feet to the floor. “Can I leave?”

I loved the low husk of his laugh. “So long as you promise to come back.”

I got to my feet. “I’ll be back.”

A couple of blinks into the shadows and I could make out the tumble of sheets, the hard lines of Carl’s body at Rick’s side. I watched Rick shift position, press himself to Carl’s chest. “Don’t be a stranger,” he whispered.

I took that as my dismissal, grateful he didn’t insist on a goodbye kiss from my baboon-ass lips. I felt the pathetic little scrap of my nightdress under my toes and scooped it up, but my knickers were nowhere to be found. I
patted my way around with naked feet, hoping to strike lucky, but no. I’d have to leave them.

A memento.

I pictured them jacking off together, thick cocks shaft to shaft with only the flimsy piece of lace between them. The thought was surprisingly horny.

Much more horny than the boyfriend at college who’d steal my dirty panties and stash them under his bed. I found fifteen pairs under there once. Fifteen jizz-encrusted fucking pairs.

Asshole.

I crept to the bedroom door, and it was open. The light was brighter on the landing, and it was easy to return to my room.
My
room, for all the ten minutes I’d spent in there. I flicked on the lamp and tossed last night’s clothes into my case, taking only a minute to bunch my messy hair into a bun and brush my teeth in the en suite. I pulled out my daywear from the bottom of the case. The height of fashion — a tired pair of jodhpurs, an oversized t-shirt, and my
I love my horsey
socks. All great except my boots were in the bastard car.

I looked in mortification at the glitzy stilettos I’d swaggered in on. Bollocks.

Jodhpurs and pink fucking stilettos. What a total idiot.

I smoothed down the bed and rinsed out my glass in the sink, then made my way down the stairs,
keeping to the edge to avoid any creaks. I eased down the front door handle with baited breath, but nobody followed me. Almost to safety, almost…

Until a fake-cheery voice called out a
good
morning
from the driveway next door. Oh crap.
That
kind of neighbourhood. I turned to face the greeter, and it was
a woman, middle-aged, with a parlour-
pretty spaniel ambling around her feet. She was wearing one of those posh fleece jackets, and a spotty neck scarf. Definitely from money. I could have died when she looked me up and down, eyes lingering an age on my horsey socks in stupid heels. Mortification doesn’t even come close. She held up a hand. “Cindy,” she said. “Are you a… relative?”

“Friend,” I said, and my cheeks were burning. Guilty. I don’t even know why I felt guilty, but I did, like I had
slut
tattooed on my forehead for the whole world to see.