SEAL's Plaything: A Secret Baby Military Romance
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CHAPTER NINE
Laurie
I flipped open my laptop at home and clicked to NYC Concierge’s page. Hmmm, what to get today? Unconsciously, I licked my lips, my body heating up a thousand degrees, my mind already whirling with anticipation of the fun times ahead.
Because I knew how concierge services worked. You put in an order and then a messenger gathers your purchases and makes the delivery. But NYC Concierge had gone one better and part of their white glove “elite” service was that you could request a particular messenger for your delivery. In this case, of course I was looking for Tucker.
I clicked over to the “About Us” portion of the web page and I scrolled down the list of names. My eyes lit up upon the word “TUCKER” in all caps, and when I clicked on the link, sure enough, a photo of the big man popped up, his face half-turned away, partially hidden in shadow.
But it was definitely my illicit lover. I could tell by the strong profile, the straight nose and mobile lips, the square jaw apparent even in the slightly blurry image. Oh yeah, that was my man and I clicked on his picture with relish.
Bingo! The site said that Tucker was “currently available” and all I had to do was place an order. I pursed my lips, thinking. What did I need? Well, everything come to think of it. I was still sitting in an unpacked apartment, piles of stuff heaped around me, half the boxes still taped shut. I’d dug around to find some work clothes so that I could show up for my job, but pretty much everything else was still boxed up.
So my fingers skimmed over the keys, impatiently strumming when suddenly inspiration struck. I needed laundry detergent. I hadn’t been able to locate any despite pawing through mounds of stuff and had given up finally, spending the evening on my soiled sheets. Or more accurately, the sheets that Tucker and I had covered with our love stains. The cotton was saturated with our sex smells and I’d rolled around in them naked, breathing in the scent of the big man, his woodsy, masculine musk, pretending that he was there with me still. Okay, you got me, I did more than that. I pressed my nose to his semen stain, the circle of dried cum and inhaled deeply while frigging my cunt, pretending it was Tucker’s fingers touching my plush lips. And I came all over again, my snatch creaming wetly as I shrieked, legs scissoring wildly on the bed, losing it as my pussy pulsed and spasmed, driving me to the wildest heights. Yeah, Tucker did that to me. I’d come all over again just from smelling his semen because I’m a dirty, nasty girl.
But I only wanted more now. So I punched in the name of a laundry detergent, just a regular brand that you could pick up at the local bodega and pressed “Checkout.” My computer whirred and then the words “Delivery Accepted” popped up, with a countdown ticker. Oh my god! Tucker was going to be here in fifteen minutes, that was barely enough time to get ready.
I hurried out of my work clothes, pulling off the shapeless blouse and struggling out of the tweed wool skirt. Yeah, I’ve put on some weight recently with the divorce and ballooned a little, all my clothes are a little tight now. Unfortunately, a new wardrobe wasn’t in the cards, that would cost hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, and I didn’t have any money to spare. Fuck. I was going to have to watch my diet to make sure I had stuff to wear. Hate that.
But my cheeks flushed because Tucker had liked my curves, devoured them like candy yesterday. Oh yeah, he hadn’t minded that there were handfuls of flesh spilling everywhere, my thighs dimpled and sweet, my ass huge and bountiful. And you know what? There was still one item of clothing that still fit me perfectly. Shoes. Oh yeah, even with the added fifteen pounds or so, my sexy heels were still perfect, elongating my legs, the four inch stilettos making me feel powerful and desirable.
So I slipped on a pair of red peep-toe pumps, real fuck-me shoes if you saw them, patent leather and sky high. Pursing my lips, I stared at the mountains of boxes before me again, half-heartedly sifting through a pile of boring work clothes, stained jeans and flannels, and an armful of raggedy lingerie. I didn’t want to wear it, truth be told. A lot of the clothes were uninspiring, all of it musty-smelling from being packed away, most of it worse for the wear, grimy and wrinkled.
But oh wait, there was something that would be perfect. I peered into a monster sized box, plunging my arm into the darkness and managed to snag a hip-length faux fur jacket in black. Yep, no wrinkles on this and the fur was really soft, even a little oily, just like the real thing. There’s no way I’d ever buy real fur even if I could afford it, but I’d come upon this gem at a consignment shop and forked over the two hundred dollars because it was sassy and hugged my curves just so.
I modeled it in the floor length mirror propped against the wall. Oh yeah, you could see my little cunt poking out just below the hem, my smooth shaved lips already glistening with desire, my meaty thighs thick and strong. And with the red peep-toes, all I needed now was a slick of red lipstick and I was ready to go. Pulling out a tube of Revlon’s Vampiress, I outlined my lips, pressing them together to saturate the color, then slowly licked them for a glossy, glistening effect. Perfect. I was a seductress waiting for my man, a vixen in heat.
But as I turned this way and that in the mirror, waves of doubt began welling up inside. What was I doing? Was I, Laurie Holmes, a regular office worker, really doing this? Was I really sexing it up, wearing nothing but a fur coat and high heels to seduce my delivery man? Suddenly I felt unsure of myself, really insecure. Maybe my curves were too much, maybe I was coming on too strong, too eager, and it would drive Tucker away, turn him off in disgust
But then I steadied myself. Down girl, I calmed myself, that’s not it. It’s the divorce that’s doing this to you, making your emotions rush around, making you play games in your head. Get a grip, you’ll be fine.
Besides, it was too late for second thoughts because a knock rang out suddenly.
“Ms. Holmes,” came the deep voice. “Delivery.”
And taking a deep breath, steadying my nerves, I made my way to the door, pressing my eye against the peephole. Oh god, he was here and my heart began racing immediately. Tall, broad, imposing, Tucker had his cap pulled low but that did nothing to disguise his strong jaw and mobile mouth. And oh god, where that mouth had been yesterday made me shiver and tremble all over again, my cunt moistening immediately, gushing with sweet juices. Suddenly my doubts were forgotten, my body on high just from a glimpse of the man through the fisheye peephole.
So I unlocked the door, peering out from behind the wooden frame and shot him a sweet smile.
“Hi big guy,” I said shyly. “Thanks so much. Do you have my package?”
His eyebrows raised at my contorted position, only my head and neck visible, craning like a goose.
“Sure,” he growled, gesturing to the box on the floor. But he held an electronic tracker as well. “But you’ll have to sign for it.”
This was like a re-play of yesterday. Except this time I was prepared. Glancing quickly around the landing to make sure no one was there, no sounds of approaching footsteps or distant voices, I made my move.
Sashaying out from behind the door, I posed provocatively before opening the coat, my boobies bare, my cunt wet, clad only in my high heels.
“Hey big boy,” I purred. “Just wait a minute while I get a pen. You wanna help me look for one?”
And the big man was stock still for a moment, his eyes ravenous, eating me up. Of course there was no need for a pen at all, nothing so mundane. Technology was advanced that all I had to do was take the electronic stylo and sign away, the magnetic field would pick up my scrawl. So it was a lame excuse at best, straight out of a corny porn flick, but it worked. Tucker was looking at me like a starving man come upon a feast in the desert, his eyes trailing my every curve, his dick punching out with assurance. And all my previous insecurities, my “oh gods” and “what ifs” flew out of my head like mist dissipating in the bright sunshine. This was a man who wanted me, who saw nothing but perfection judging from the way his eyes were on fire, the way his big body went rock hard. And in
two long strides, Tucker was in my apartment, door slamming shut behind him, package forgotten on the ground as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Fuck, you little slut,” he breathed hotly, the warm air gusting against my cunt. “Fuck, you’re one horny little girl, aren’t you?”
And I jiggled in front of him, my boobies almost bouncing off his head, my cream gushing wetly.
“I am for you, big boy,” I cooed. And daringly, I reached a hand down and slipped it between my legs, pulling my labia apart to show him my clit, my wetly creaming hole.
“Taste it, big man?” I breathed, squatting a little so his mouth was exactly level with my cunt, canting my hips forward so that he could gaze up my channel, the hot pink, glistening flesh such a contrast to my pale white labia.
And like magic, it worked. Tucker was on it in a second, hard, hot and hungry because this was no gentle massage with his lips and tongue. He went straight for my clit, seizing the big nub between his lips and shaking his head, pulling it this way and that like a dog in a frenzy.
“Oh fuuuck!” I cried, my eyes dropping closed, my pussy gushing like a fire hose. “Oh!”
And Tucker chuckled deep in his chest.
“You’re such a fucking slut, your clit’s as big as my thumb, look at this thing,” he growled, popping it out if his mouth and flicking it with his fingers. It was true, my clit was so aroused and stiff that it waved in the air, the warm gusts of his breath only making it stand up even more, become more engorged.
“I know big boy,” I panted. “I’m a cunt slut … just for you.”
And Tucker was on me again. He rubbed the bottom side of my clit with the pad of his thumb, massaging that sensitive nub before trailing his fingers around the stiffness, the circular motion driving me mad.
“Ahhh!” I shrieked. “Ahhh ahhh!”
The big man just chuckled slyly.
“Scream all you want, little girl, I love hearing it,” he ground out before lowering his mouth to my pussy. And without hesitating, he licked me from bottom to top, the flat of his tongue covering as much acreage as possible, flicking my clit with a flourish at the end.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he growled before going at it again.
And this time he held me open, lapping up the side of my right labia before doing the same to the other, tasting my walls, filling himself with my honey, even smacking his lips at my sweet taste.
“Fuck, cunt juice is amazing,” he growled, nose and lips still buried in my pussy. “And you’ve got so much of it.” Because he was covered in my cream now, the bottom half of his face slickly wet, sticky and shiny from my fluids but the big man dove in for more, nuzzling me, drinking up the ambrosia.
And I screamed, electric sensations shooting out from my pussy, my weight propped up against the wall because my legs were so weak and trembly.
“Please Tucker, please,” I gasped. “I’m gonna gollapse, oh god!”
He chuckled deeply.
“Hold on, little girl, give me one sec.”
And with that, he inserted his thumb into my cunt, burying it deep before fanning his fingers across the front of my pussy, stroking my clit, running them through my wet folds, making me feel so good.
And I really did lose it then, my legs giving way, knees buckling as his fingers did wonders. Oh fuck, that thick thumb felt so good in me, blunt and short, rubbing me on the inside as his other fingers teased the rest of my pussy. Where the fuck did he learn these tricks? I’ve been fingered a couples times, but jamming a thumb in my hole while fluttering his palm across my nub? That took some creativity and a massively dirty mind, and I fucking loved it, my legs turning to jelly as I screamed, my pussy clamping down on him, enjoying the wiggling, jiggling digit inside.
And lucky for me, the big man swung me up into his arms then, striding to the bedroom in two seconds flat. He threw me onto the queen-size, my curvy form bouncing up and down as he looked his fill.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped harshly, his eyes trailing my body, hot on my tits as he sucked his thumb into his mouth. “And you taste good too,” he ground out, lapping at the cream on his digit.
But he had a surprise for me this time.
“Your turn,” he commanded, popping his thumb out and thrusting the finger into my mouth, the thick digit wetly slick with a mix of my cum and his saliva. And oh god, but my eyes rolled back in my head as I sucked. Oh god, tasting my own pussy cream was so nasty, so dirty and yet so delicious that I was fast losing control, my body quivering and shaking in anticipation of what was next.
And Tucker didn’t disappoint.
“You know there’s tit for tat,” he said silkily, eyes gleaming, watching as I sucked his thumb.
My eyelids flickered a bit.
“Mmm?” was all I managed, still savoring my pussy juice.
“Yesterday you sucked me off while sticking a finger in my butt,” he continued smoothly, his voice neutral even though dark slashes had appeared across his cheeks, his chest and abs tight, a huge tent at his groin. “And I’m gonna do the same to you today.”
My eyes flew open. He was going to what? Put something up my butt while eating my pussy? And the big man read my thoughts, his eyes going dark as he nodded.
“Yeah, why do you think I put my thumb in your cunt first?” he asked with a nasty grin. “I wanted to lube it up because it’s going in your ass next.”
And my little anal pucker clenched involuntarily then, the pleats going tight in anticipation. Oh fuck, oh fuck, no one had ever touched me in back before, this man was going to be my first.
But Tucker wasn’t kidding and he lost no time at all. The big man shouldered himself between my thighs, my legs spread impossibly wide as they accommodated his big frame, there’d be a slight ache in my hips afterwards. Good thing I did yoga, I was sort of flexible but Tucker was such a big man, nothing could prepare me for this.
And my delivery man just chuckled.
“Fuck yeah, you better start doing Pilates and all that shit because after I’m done with you? You’ll be flexible enough to join the circus,” he rasped, even as he lowered his mouth to my pussy for a taste. “Now relax little girl, just lie back and relax.”
But how could I relax given what I knew was coming? I let out a low guttural moan as he lapped my pussy again, his tongue doing circles around my clit before alternately licking and biting the sensitive flesh.
“Ohhhhhh fuck!” I cried, “Oh fuck fuck fuck!”
“I will, baby girl, I will,” he ground out into my pussy flesh. “I’ll be fucking you in no time at all, just you wait.”
And I creamed more hearing the words, but tensed simultaneously because his hand had crept backwards to my butt, and one big finger was now circling my anus, tracing around my rusty star. I gasped as he probed the tiny hole, his thumb burying itself about a quarter of an inch in.
“Oh yeah, you’re tight back here,” he ground out. “I’m gonna have to work it in, it’s gonna be a tough one. Just focus on your clit baby, I’m gonna suck your clit while I do it.”
And with that, he began to twist his thumb, screwing it towards my center while applying pressure, going up against the resistance of my anus and sphincter.
“Oh please!” I gasped, panting, breathless, my butt cheeks tightening involuntarily. “Oh please!”
But Tucker was too busy to answer because he was sucking my clit now, tickling it with his tongue before biting gently with his teeth, causing the blood to rush to my cunt, my stiff nub getting even harder and bigger under his ministrations. And with some added pressure, some more screwing, his thumb popped into my ass, breaching me thoroughly.
“Ohhhhh!” I shrieked. “Oh god, I’m being butt fucked!”
And Tucker chuckled deep in his throat, forcing his thumb up even further, reaching up that back hole with his blunt digit, twisting it around, my ass walls clamping around him in shock and delight.
“You’re tight, little butt slut, but you did it,” he gro
wled. And now I’m gonna taste the cream that’s running out of you like a fucking river.”
And true to his word, he tensed that tongue and pushed it into my hole, spearing up my sweet channel, my wet passage breached as my ass was penetrated by his big digit. But everything changed in a nanosecond because suddenly my delivery man drew back, lifting his mouth and raising his head to pin me with blazing blue eyes.
I was about to scream. How could he stop now, of all times? Right when I was circling Cloud Nine, ready to burst into a shower of excitement?
But the big man wanted to talk and nothing was going to stop him.
“Little girl,” he ground out, his voice deep and raspy, “What was that?”
I twisted restlessly on the sheets, my body on high, barely able to hear his words. Conversation, now, really? Oh no. His thumb was still in my butt and I just wanted his mouth on me again, making my pussy cream and shiver. I swear, it wasn’t going to take more than two seconds before I was ready to come all over this big man. But I had to answer.
“Mmm?” I moaned, writhing on the sheets, mindless with pleasure. I was hoping that he’d go back to his ministrations, make me feel good again, but he twisted his thumb into my ass deeper, my eyes flying open with shock, my rectum instinctively clenching around the penetration.
“Wh-what?” I gasped. “What is it?”
And the big man’s eyes met mine, magnetic, forcing the truth from my lips.
“I tasted something up there,” he said slowly, “and if I wasn’t wrong, it was your hymen, a rubbery barrier that was unmistakably female,” he ground out, voice raspy, pinning me with his gaze. “Now why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin, little girl?”
And I flushed, my ass clamping on his thumb even more. I couldn’t believe we were discussing this right now given the compromising position I was in, how he had a finger in my butt while demanding answers. But oh god, this had happened yesterday too, right? We were always chatting with our clothes off, the sex fluids everywhere, exchanging the most incredible words under the most unbelievable of circumstances.