Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Sorry, Cash,” she whispers, sticking out her bottom lip, those big eyes swimming with contrition, her tits settling against my chest, hips starting to roll. “I didn’t want to go without you. I love knowing when you’re there. I feel so safe.”
A groan emits from my throat, my fist tightening around my cock. Moving faster. My eyes are strained on those pink and white stripes, her suckling mouth on the popsicle. “Next time, you stay home like a good little girl. Or else.”
“Or else what, Daddy?” she whispers in my ear, her cream beginning to seep through her panties, so I can feel it on my shaft. Daddy. Oh God, it’s the best/worst part of my daily, sometimes hourly, fantasies. I’m only four years older than Scout, but there is something inside of me aching to be the ultimate authority in her life.
Her guardian, her enforcer, her favorite.
“You’ll learn to stay home when I’m busy or I’ll take away your popsicles. No dessert for a week.” In my fantasy, this is where I press her face into the slope of my neck to muffle her protests about her punishment for unknowingly disobeying me, because I need to bury myself in her cunt. I can’t wait any longer. I rip her panties to the right and start shoving my hard meat into her untapped fuck hole, my eyes unblinking on the bikini bottoms on my laptop screen, imagining what it must be like. Tight and innocent. Shy but slick.
“I’m trying so hard to take it,” she says haltingly. “I want to take it for you, Daddy.”
“You will.” I throw her down onto an imaginary couch and flip her over, spitting on her little round ass cheeks, prying her thighs apart and guiding my dick to that sweet pink entrance, feeling it contract with nerves around my pressing head, only allowing in the first fat inch. “You were such a big girl, going to the movies by yourself, weren’t you, angel? That means you must be big enough to handle my cock, right?” I backhand her ass cheeks. “Relax your fucking cunt or this is going to get rough for you.”
Beads of sweat are rolling down my stomach, my back, the sides of my face.
In all my millions of fantasies about Scout, I’ve never once gotten fully seated inside of her before ejaculating and I’m not going to make it now, either. Even the imaginary version of her is too sweet, too perfect, too much of a mindfuck to let me last. My head drops forward and I violate myself roughly, grunting, panting, my balls thickening—
There’s a loud knock on the door of my apartment.
I swallow my next moan and slow to a stop, my sweat turning to ice on my skin. I feel exposed, like I’m going to get caught engaging in this ultimate shame. Fantasy fucking my best friend’s sister, being far too aggressive with her, making her call me Daddy, stripping her of anything resembling independence, because I’m a sick bastard who wants to possess Scout.
Own her.
I take a deep breath, trying to make my voice even. “Yeah? Who is it?”
“It’s Russ. Let me in.”
Russ.
Scout’s brother.
My best friend.
Did he hear anything I was saying through the door?
I slam the lid of my laptop shut and force my cock back into my jeans, wincing as I zip. “Uh. Hold on. One second,” I call toward the door, looking furiously around the apartment for any proof of my stalking activities. But no, my letter writing paraphernalia and all the items I’ve stolen from her dorm room are in a special box in my closet. The pictures I’ve taken are loaded onto my laptop, kept in a secret folder on my phone. Nothing is visible here. To be safe, I stow the laptop inside of my oven and jog over to answer the door. “Hey.”
Russ looks stressed. “Hey,” he says, shoving five fingers through his light-colored hair. “Can we come in? I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
“We?”
Scout steps into view, a purple backpack clutched to her chest—and a storm begins to rage in my ears. My pulse triples in speed. I clutch the doorframe to stop myself from reaching for her and dragging her into the apartment. God help me, I almost manhandle her in front of Russ, my body demanding I lay her down somewhere and press her down with all of my weight. Shout at her for wrecking my head. Making me go fucking crazy.
“What is she doing here?” I ask, raggedly, harnessing every ounce of my self-control.
“Scout has a stalker,” Russ says, his expression one of pure terror. “I need you to protect her while I’m out of town.”
2
Scout
She has a stalker.
Hearing those four words out loud really makes the situation real.
I’ve been hiding my predicament from my brother for months, but seeing his reaction is making me even more scared than I already am. I’m not surprised that being in the presence of Cash is already making me feel better, though. More protected. Safe.