Small Town Secrets: A Forbidden Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “Do you want more?” I rasp against the silky skin on her throat. I honestly don’t even need to think about getting hard again - the way she looks at me, hungering for another round, keeps me solid as rock.

  “Yes,” Carrie whispers, and, eager, I start moving inside her again, making our mingled juices run down her thighs.

  “I wouldn’t pull out if I could,” I groan, pulling her back so that not an inch separates us. Fuck, I’m in so deep that it’s incredible. “You’re so tight, Carrie, it’s like my cock is being kept hostage,” I whisper, squeezing her nipple. She gasps in pleasure and writhes beneath me.

  “You’re still so hard,” she moans in reply, lifting that perfect profile and arching her back to let me in deeper. I move faster, pushing insistently, spreading her ass cheeks with the movement.

  “It’s you,” I growl, pulling her head back further and now releasing her nipple to use my hand to press down against the small of her back. She arches in pleasure as I thrust, and I feel my balls smack forward with the movement, grazing her clitoris.

  “Oh… YES!” she cries, fucking into the rhythm.

  This time there is no fondling, no use of my thumb in her ass to bring her closer. After all, there is no need. Her hair is entwined in my fist, her head pulled back, exposing the length of her throat, her front pressed to the bed by my hand, with only her vibrating ass up against my pelvis. Carrie’s moaning as I ride her closer and closer to her third orgasm.

  “Tell me again,” I grunt, pulling her locks, forcing the answer out of her.

  “My pussy’s yours,” she mewls helplessly, eyes closed. And the admission brings me back to the brink of coming. Grunting in pleasure, I’m riding her hard and fast now, my balls smacking rhythmically against her clit, making her moan like an animal. And just when I can’t take it anymore, I release the pressure on her back, and bring my open hand down on her ass cheek, hard. Again and again, the louds smacks ring out in the cavernous bedroom.

  “Yes!” she screams, as I feel her cunt clench up with release. “Yes, yes!” The unrestrained response forces me over the cliff, and I shove my hips forward with a groan.

  “Oh FUCK!” is my grunt as my cock is held tight in a spasm of her pulsing cunt. I grunt again, falling full on top of her, and with both my hands on her huge ass, I thrust hard and strong, unloading myself without restraint into this goddess. Hot jets of sperm fill her as the girl moans, accepting my virility with her pussy.

  Later, I watch the taxi pull out of my driveway and the taillights disappear down the street. I didn’t ask her to stay over, but I didn’t have to; Carrie mentioned an important event she needs to attend tomorrow. Nor did I ask for her number, her last name, or anything personal. But the girl didn’t seem to mind, shyly saying goodbye.

  After all, it’s better this way. She understands her place, and I understand mine. I’ve gotten what I wanted, and hopefully fucked her right out of my system. There will be no more sex club visits, no more searching for that perfect woman who can satisfy me. Because now that I’m satiated, I can move on with my life. I’ll call Clarissa, that bitch my dad wants me to date, and schedule a time to meet. It’ll be painful, especially since Clarissa doesn’t hold a candle to my gorgeous brunette, but totally necessary. After all, life has to move on. We can’t stay in dreamland forever.

  Of course, you could continue on the sly, the voice in my head whispers. You could continue to see Carrie and enjoy everything about her. But it’s not right. Such a sweet, giving girl doesn’t belong in my life. After all, I’m an asshole through and through, and the brunette’s an innocent. She deserves a loving husband, a passel of kids, and a house with a white picket fence out front. Not some dude she met at a dirty sex club who took her virginity within minutes of meeting.

  So resolutely, I turn away. Carrie deserves someone better than me. An honorable man who’ll give her a ring and dote on her night and day. As for me? Grimly, I stare out the window. My future’s bleak, but then again, I was never here for personal happiness. I was groomed to run an empire, and unfortunately … sweet, giving girls have no place in my life.

  Chapter Seven

  Carrie

  So much for beauty sleep. Sitting in at my vanity table I stare at my reflection, frustration visible in the dark circles around my eyes. I hate not getting a good night’s sleep. I guess it’s just as well that Conor didn't ask for my phone number because if all he causes is sleepless nights, then we’re definitely not meant to be together.

  And yet what happened felt so good. I replay every delicious thing he did to me in my head and moan again involuntarily, writhing a bit on the chair. Oooh, my pussy’s sore, not to mention my bottom. The rim’s probably slightly red and chafed because of what the alpha did to me last night.

  But as I stare into the mirror, my thoughts whirl. This summer is proving to be a confusing and derailing time for who I thought I was, and where I thought I was headed. I find myself almost looking forward to going back to college in the fall, so I can go back studying and getting straight A’s. Graduation’s just around the corner, and then I’ll be able to start my career like I planned. No more Conor. No more secret sex clubs. No matter how much Roxy begs, I’m not going back to that suburban house in Riverbend.

  Determined to leave it all behind, I focus on making myself look a little more lively. I’m putting some finishing touches to my make-up when there’s a knock on the door.

  “Leaving in five, Carrie! You ready?” comes Mom’s muffled voice as she walks down the hallway. I sigh at my reflection. It’ll have to do. I doubt Mom’s fiancée or his kid will care much what I look like, anyway. I just need to make it through this lunch, and then I can come back, get in my pyjamas, and enjoy a nice indulgent helping of ice cream while watching a girly movie. That’ll get me back to feeling like myself.

  So I call downstairs, “Be just a sec.” And sure enough, we’re ready to go in five minutes. The drive is uneventful, but suddenly my mom’s voice interrupts.

  “Carrie?”

  We’re pulling up outside the restaurant, and I realize with a jolt that Elaine’s been talking the last couple minutes. I’ve been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear a word she’s been saying. Thoughts about Conor. Just what I told myself I wouldn’t think about.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” asks Elaine, her expression concerned, as she parks the car.

  “Of course! Sorry, I’m just a bit tired,” I yawn. My mom smiles good-naturedly.

  “It’s good to see you going out every weekend. I’m glad you and Roxy still find fun things to do around here in sleepy old Riverbend. I was worried you’d be bored this summer,” she confides with a smile. I cringe internally. If Elaine knew what kind of fun I’ve been having, she’d probably curl up and die before shriveling into a tiny pea.

  So I throw her a weak smile.

  “Yeah, Riverbend’s not bad.”

  But Mom’s not listening.

  “Thanks for picking this restaurant, sweetie,” Elaine says excitedly, squeezing my hand.

  Apple Orchard is no place special but I try to smile radiantly.

  “Of course, Mom! I know how much you love this restaurant, so it was no trouble. We should go somewhere amazing for this special occasion anyways.” Actually, I’ve been dreading this meeting but I hide it from her.

  “I guess I’m just glad you still care enough to make an effort,” Elaine says with a hint of seriousness in her voice.

  “What do you mean?” comes my hesitant voice. Elaine’s brow puckers as she takes a deep breath.

  “Well, this being my fourth husband and all, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn’t taken it very seriously.”

  I smile at her, and I mean it when I say, “Your happiness is important, mom. Even if this was your tenth husband, I’d still care.”

  That makes her laugh, and she kisses me on the cheek.

  “Thank you sweetie. I knew I could count on you.”

  And as we approach the tab
le I booked, I sense Mom tensing with excitement.

  “They’re here already!” she whispers. I glance over and see a handsome man in his fifties with piercing blue eyes, a neatly trimmed beard, and black hair streaked with gray. He hasn’t spotted us yet. Next to him, with his back towards us, is a tall man with the same black hair, the shoulders of his crisp suit rising just above his father’s.

  “When you said “kid,” Mom, I thought Henry’s son would be maybe thirteen or so,” I whisper to my mom. “That is clearly not a kid.”

  “Oh, Conor’s just a kid,” Mom whispers back. “You’re all kids to us.”

  But at the mention of his name, my knees turn to jelly so fast I stop walking. Conor? What in the world? It must be a coincidence. Has to be. But Elaine hasn’t noticed that I stopped in my tracks. Instead, she’s launched herself at the table with sincere excitement where her fiancé has stood to meet her. Nailed to the spot, I watch them kiss, and then Henry’s “kid” rises and they shake hands, his back still toward me. Finally, noticing I’m missing, Mom glances over and beckons me over with a smile. This causes the “kid” to turn around and my fear is confirmed.

  It’s Conor from the sex club! Holy smokes! What do I do now?

  Recognition flashes in his eyes when he sees me, but then it’s gone and his face returns to neutral. The handsome man smiles confidently at me, holding out his hand.

  “You must be Carrie,” he says, and I have no choice but to force my legs of jelly to walk over and shake it. “Nice to meet you,” he continues. I’m unable to utter a single word, so I just force myself to smile as our hands touch. My brain can’t compute what’s happening. Conor holds my hand a moment longer than is necessary, his blue eyes boring into mine. Oh god, what do I do now?

  But fortunately, nothing’s necessary.

  “Carrie?” my mother giggles, breaking the spell. “Don’t just stand there. Come meet Henry. Henry, my daughter Carrie.” I realize I’ve been gawking openmouthed at Conor, and force myself to tear away and inch my way around the table to shake Henry’s hand.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Carrie. I’ve heard so much about you,” he says pleasantly. If his father is anything to go by, Conor will age very handsomely indeed. Somewhere, in the part of my brain that’s still functioning, I note that it’s easy to see why mom fell for Henry. So I try to act smooth, but unfortunately, the words come out garbled.

  “You’re my mother’s best-looking fiancé yet!”

  Oh shit. I immediately wish I’d never been born. Luckily everyone seems to think it’s hilarious.

  “Thank you Carrie, that means a lot,” laughs Henry, and red in the face, I sit down in a free seat, unfortunately placed next to Conor. With Mom on my left, and Henry across from me, I let the pleasant chit chat fade into the background as I sneak a glance at Conor on my right.

  He’s not looking at me, instead following something Mom is saying. I watch his lips in their perfect smile, and recall them on my cunt, his tongue rolling over my clitoris. I swallow as I take in his hands, the same hands that less than twelve hours ago held me down as he fucked me into orgasm, once, twice, and then three times. The hand that spanked me and made me cum harder than I thought was possible. The fingers he pushed into my ass, before pushing his cock into that same place, while unlocking a forbidden pleasure that has had me sleepless. I recall how they made my cunt clench so tight with the pleasure of this unnamable act. I come out of my rapture as the waiter, who apparently has taken everyone’s order but mine, asks me what I would like.

  “I’ll have the lasagna, please, with a side of garlic bread,” I answer, clearing my throat. I order this because it’s what I always have, not because I want it. I’m not even hungry. And too late I realize garlic bread is not a very sexy food item given that my breath’s going be odorous afterwards.

  But no one notices, and instead, Conor leans towards me.

  “I love a girl with a healthy appetite,” he whispers so quietly I think I must have imagined it. Because when I look up at him to meet his eye, he’s talking animatedly to my mother again about something I can’t follow. If he’s as unsettled by this sudden turn of events as I am, he’s not showing it at all.

  I need to pull it together. Conor is about to become my stepbrother. The thought revolts me, and yet does nothing to stop my cunt from creaming in my panties. Mom, Henry, and Conor are caught up in a hilarious story of some kind, while my mind wanders in dazed circles. Is his cock semi-hard right now? Doesn’t he want me? How can he sit here and pretend he’s never met me before, when his tongue has made me tremble? How can he be this cool, while last night he pushed his fingers into my ass until I cried out in rapture? The memory of it has me so soaked I fear I may need to excuse myself to settle down in the bathroom, but fortunately, lunch is somehow already over.

  While Mom and Henry fight laughingly over the check, I finally dare to glance up at Conor and am shocked to find him smiling knowingly at me from my right. His blue eyes hold me tight, and I swallow the lump in my throat away.

  “You barely ate a thing, Carrie,” he says with a smile.

  “Not… not hungry,” I stutter.

  “No,” he says in a barely audible growl. “But maybe you’ll have an appetite for something else later?”

  I have just enough time to wonder whether our parents can hear what we’re saying when his fingers start running up my thigh under the table. But our parents are teasing each other while still play-fighting, and don’t notice a thing. I stiffen even as my cheeks flush hot.

  Conor’s fingers now reach the edge of my panties, causing my breath to stick in my throat.

  “What are you doing?” I manage in a hiss. But the handsome man only grins at me. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. He doesn’t allow my eyes to break away from his as he slips a finger into my panties, testing the wetness that his presence has caused. I see the lust growing in his eyes. He knows I’m creaming for him. Shame engulfs me, and as he strokes my slippery folds with one gentle finger, I’m worried I might fling my untouched meal over in one fell stroke while launching myself at him in a lustful frenzy. But I don’t. I don’t move an inch, trembling silently as the man strokes my sweetest spot.

  And giving my clit a last nudge, making my heart hiccup in my chest as my cunt throbs in my panties, he pulls his hand casually back to his side of the table. To my horror, he licks his finger while holding my gaze, and then dabs his mouth with his napkin, all as if merely finishing the last crumbs of a meal. Conor’s still grinning coolly like the cat that got the cream. How can he be this laid back?

  But there are no answers, and after the stiff goodbyes, I’m still wondering this on the car journey home, my thighs pressed together desperately with need.

  “Carrie, are you sure you’re okay?” my mother asks, worried now. “It’s so unlike you not to eat a bite, especially since lasagna is your favorite.”

  “They overcooked the lasagna, that’s all,” I lie. I had meant it to come out as a casual comment, but the surliness in my voice makes me sound like a spoiled brat.

  “We could have sent it back, sweetie,” Elaine continues.

  “I didn’t want to make a fuss,” I dismiss. My mom sighs then before taking a deep breath and shooting me a look from the corner of her eye. Her fingers are suddenly tense on the steering wheel.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this marriage, Carrie?”

  “Of course, Mom!” My reply comes too quick and sounds forced. “Henry seems like a really nice guy,” I add, in the hopes it comes off as sincere. Mom smiles a bit, although it’s a little unsure.

  “He really is,” agrees. “His son’s nice too, isn't he?” I swallow heavily.

  “Yes, very nice,” is my croak. But Mom doesn’t notice.

  “Did you know Conor’s a very successful entrepreneur? Made his first million years ago. So impressive. And at his age! He gets it from his father,” Mom rattles on. But honestly, I couldn’t care less about my new stepbrother’s
millions. Because what’s happening is so wrong. We’re going to be siblings, for crying out loud, and yet Conor just touched me intimately under the table with our parents mere feet away.

  Yet the car continues to move, and soon enough we’ll be home, where I’m expected to act normal. To help serve cake and coffee to Henry and Conor, who are coming over. To pour ice water while smiling like a gracious hostess. And yet, what I really want is to be laid out by Conor and fucked with a ferocity I’m ashamed of. Fucked by Conor’s huge, pulsing cock in holes I’m ashamed to even say. Again, I feel my pussy grow slippery for him, and resolve to change my panties as soon as we’re home. To splash my face with cold water. To pretend I can play it as cool as he can. Because god help me … but I’m gonna need it.

  Chapter Eight

  Conor

  I admit I was surprised when Dad’s new fiancée walked in and her daughter turned out to be Carrie. I admit that I was momentarily overcome by those warm, innocent brown eyes, wide with shocked recognition as she saw me. But I caught myself and didn’t let on that we knew each other. After all, I’m the king of disguise. I’ve handled dozens of corporate negotiations with billions on the table, so it was easy to pretend that everything was okay.