Chapter 18

When he dropped me off at the corner, my pussy was already begging for mercy. Panties sticking to me they were so wet, my head still buzzing from what almost went down in that car. I wanted to climb on him, feel every inch, but I held back. Now it was eating me up inside. Had to end 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. Locked everything — door, window — no interruptions. Pants down to mid-thigh, panties coming with them, and my fingers were already on my hot, wet, dripping pussy.

I slid my hand over it and felt that slick cream coating everything. My clit felt rock-hard, throbbing, begging. I started without any teasing, finger rubbing hard, pressure right where I needed it. The pleasure hit fast, rough, out of control. My hips bucked into nothing, the other hand squeezing my tit under my shirt, my whole body covered in goosebumps.

Every stroke was a jolt, my breath coming in gasps, moans slipping through clenched teeth. I didn’t just want to cum — I wanted to wring every drop out, feel my pussy shaking until it couldn’t take anymore.

And that’s what happened. My whole body locked up, a hot shock racing up my spine, legs giving out completely. In a second, I was collapsing to the floor on my knees, heart pounding, thighs trembling uncontrollably. Air stuck in my chest, head spinning, and all I could feel was my cum dripping, slicking my thighs, sticking to my hot skin.

I stayed there, slumped, panting, then let out a short, almost stupid laugh.

“Damn, look at that!”

My pussy was still pulsing, hot, spread open, and when I ran my hand over it to feel, I nearly moaned again. I’d never been this soaked, panties tangled mid-thigh, 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 hit this level of horniness, my head went into this wild state, no filter, no limits. And when I got there, I’d do some crazy shit that seemed insane later.

I stood up still trembling, grabbed clean clothes, a fresh towel, and headed straight to the bathroom. But not just that. Along with the usual stuff, I brought a condom.

Inside, my heart raced just looking at what I knew was there. The deodorant on the sink, right where I’d left it last time. Cylindrical, long, thick. A bit too 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 shaking hands and rolled the condom over it, covering the whole thing. Sat on the toilet, legs spread, clit throbbing just from the anticipation. I rubbed the tip over it, teasing the entrance, spreading my hot wetness over the smooth surface.

I closed my eyes and my mind went straight to him. Pictured his cock there, hard, rubbing against me, the tip 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 making my whole body vibrate.

I gripped the bottle tight and started thrusting, fast, deep, feeling it bury inside me. My pussy clutched it greedily, squeezing, wanting more. Every push made my eyes roll back, my leg shake, and I just wanted to go all the way.

And I did. I came again.

I laughed to myself at how wild I’d gotten, body still tingling, legs wobbly, mouth open as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. Sweat mixed with my own scent had me even more turned on, and I was gearing up for another one, this time in the shower.

But first, I sat to pee, muscles still loose from the orgasm. That’s when I heard voices from outside.

My mom.

She was on the phone, and from the pauses between her words, I could tell the talk was tense. My heart pounded. Didn’t take much to figure out who it was with. My dad.

I ducked my head, bit my lip, 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 watching her! Listen here, I know how to raise my own daughter! We don’t even know what happened ‘cause she hasn’t said! I’m the one who thinks this whole story’s fishy, and he doesn’t set foot here till I get to the bottom of it!”

My chest tightened. What the fuck was this? That’s why my stepdad doesn’t come around? What was she talking about?

“No, you’re not talking to the cops, to thugs, to anybody! You just fuck everything up! I’ll handle it! If you show up here, I’ll slap another restraining order on you, got it?”

My stomach twisted. My dad was trying to come here? Mom said he wasn’t interested in us!

“You idiot, I’m telling you ‘cause you’re her father and you need to know!”

The silence hung heavy, 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 crept up my spine, and this time it wasn’t from pleasure.

What the hell was going on?