Chapter 18
When he dropped me off at the corner, my pussy was already screaming for relief. My panties were soaked and sticking to me, my head still buzzing from what didn't happen in that car. I wanted to climb on him, feel every inch, but I held back. Now it was eating me up inside. I had to finish this one way or another.
I blew through the living room, ignoring everything, yelling out to throw them off.
"Mom! I'm home!"
"Okay, sweetie! Take a shower and come eat!"
Fuck the shower.
I burst into my room, kicking off my shoes, backpack landing wherever. I locked everything—door, window—no way I wanted anyone interrupting. My jeans slid down to mid-thigh, panties coming with them, and my fingers were already on my hot, wet, dripping pussy.
I ran my hand over it and felt that slick cream coating everything. My clit felt rock-hard, throbbing, begging. I didn't mess around, finger rubbing hard, pressing right where I needed it. The pleasure hit fast, raw, out of control. My hips bucked at nothing, my other hand squeezing my tit under my shirt, my whole body covered in goosebumps.
Every slide sent a jolt through me, my breath coming in gasps, moans slipping through clenched teeth. I didn't just want to cum—I wanted to wring every last drop out, feel my pussy shaking until it couldn't take anymore.
And that's what happened. My whole body locked up, a hot rush climbing my spine, my legs giving out completely. In a second, I was collapsing to the floor on my knees, heart pounding, thighs trembling uncontrollably. The air caught in my chest, my head spinning, and all I could feel was my orgasm dripping out, slicking my thighs, sticking to my hot skin.
I stayed there, slumped, panting, then let out a short, almost stupid laugh.
"Holy shit, look at that!"
My pussy was still pulsing, hot and open, and when I ran my hand over it to feel, I nearly moaned again. I'd never been this wet before, my panties tangled mid-thigh, my leg shaky, breath trying to steady. But the worst—or best—part was I wanted more.
I'd just gotten off and already craved another round. Whenever I got this horny, my mind went into this wild state, no filters, no limits. And when I hit that point, I'd do some crazy shit that seemed insane later.
I got up still shaky, grabbed clean clothes, a fresh towel, and headed straight to the bathroom. But I didn't stop there. On top of the usual stuff, I brought a condom.
Inside, my heart raced just looking at what I knew was waiting. The deodorant on the sink, right where I'd left it last time. Cylindrical, long, thick. A bit much for me, but right then, nothing felt big enough. I was crazy with need, dripping, my whole body begging.
I grabbed the bottle with a trembling hand and rolled the condom over it, covering the whole thing. I sat on the toilet, legs spread, my clit throbbing just from the anticipation. I rubbed the tip against it, teasing my entrance, spreading my hot wetness over the smooth surface.
I closed my eyes and my mind went straight to him. I pictured his cock there, hard, rubbing against me, the head sliding along my wet slit. I could feel his breath close, his bold hands grabbing my tits, fingers pinching my nipples.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I pushed it in, and it slid right in, no resistance. I was too wet, too ready. The cool metal gave me chills, but soon my body's heat took over.
The pleasure built different, deep, a delicious pressure stretching my walls, filling every space inside me. My clit felt like it was being touched from the inside out, a hot shock that made my whole body vibrate.
I gripped the bottle tight and started thrusting, fast, deep, feeling it bury inside me. My pussy clenched around it hungrily, squeezing, wanting more. Every push made my eyes roll back, my leg shake, and I just wanted to ride it to the end.
And I did. I came again.
I laughed to myself at how wild I'd gotten, my body still tingling, legs wobbly, mouth open as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The sweat mixed with my own musky scent had me even more turned on, and I was gearing up for another one, this time under the shower.
But first, I sat to pee, my muscles still loose from the orgasm. That's when I heard the voices outside.
My mom.
She was on the phone, and from the pauses between her words, I could tell the talk was tense. My heart raced. I didn't have to guess who it was with. My dad.
I lowered my face, bit my lip, and held my breath, focusing on the sounds beyond the door.
"I'm handling it, okay?"
Her voice was pissed, impatient, that sharp tone I knew too well.
"I know, I'm keeping an eye on her! Listen, I know how to raise my own daughter! We don't even know what happened because she hasn't said! I'm the one who thinks this whole story's weird, and he's not stepping foot here until I figure it out properly!"
My chest tightened. What the fuck was this? Is that why my stepdad doesn't come around? What was she talking about?
"No, you're not talking to the cops, or thugs, or anyone! You just fuck everything up! I'll handle it! If you show up here, I'll get a restraining order against you again, got it?"
My stomach twisted. My dad was trying to come here? My mom had said he wasn't interested in us!
"You idiot, I'm telling you because you're her father and you need to know!"
The silence hung heavy, and then the last line came out dry, spat like a bullet:
"Ah, go to hell..."
The call ended with a dull beep.
I sat there frozen, eyes locked on the cold bathroom tile. A chill ran up my spine, and this time it wasn't from pleasure.
What the hell was going on?