by Lila Younger
Vanessa comes again and again, and I’m there to catch her, hold her, anchor her as she lifts to the sky. It’s even better than coming myself, watching her pleasure as she’s eaten out for the very first time, and loving it. I feel like the biggest man in the world as I draw her up to another orgasm, and then another, until her eyes are glossy and her whole body tenses for the final time. Maybe I should have waited, maybe I should have let her wrap her mind around her first one, but I couldn’t, wanting to taste more, wanting her pussy open and ready when I plunge my cock inside of her. Just the thought makes my cock throb harder, and as she slowly recovers, I undo my belt, shrug off my jeans, pull off my boxer briefs. I can almost feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my shaft already.
I drop back down between her legs, my cock swinging heavily over her. Precum drips off of the head, splashes onto her virgin pussy, I rub it all in, coat her folds with all of me. Then I cradle my massive shaft between her pussy, lubing up my whole shaft with our mingled juices. It takes everything in me to hold it together, but I do. We kiss slowly, our tongues tangling together.
“That was the best thing in the world,” Vanessa says, blushing. “I didn’t think it could feel so good. I-I like the taste of me on you.”
“So do I,” I say, kissing her again.
She’s practically glowing beneath me, and I know that now would be the best time to do it, when she’s already all relaxed. I grind my cock against her swollen cunt, and I get harder, if that’s even possible. I want to get inside of her. I rub my shaft into her, her little cunt so tight that I can’t gain entrance even after everything I’ve done. She moans softly under me as I try again.
“Please Macon hurry,” she pleads. “I don’t know if I can wait anymore.”
“I know what you mean,” I say roughly.
My fingers spread her slick lips apart, and with my other hand, I guide my cock in. It’s tight, and Vanessa instinctively tightens against the intrusion.
“Relax,” I tell her. “I’ll go slow, I promise.”
Even though she nods, she’s still so fucking tight. I meet with resistance with every inch, her pussy wrapping around me with an iron grip. I almost come right then and there, but I grit my teeth, push forward as much as I can. There’s no way I’m not stretching her to the limit, but she let’s me continue, even lifts her hips a little to help until I come to her barrier.
Vanessa’s nails tighten into my shoulders, and I kiss her again as I push past her virginity, her screams muffled by our kiss. I know it hurts, and I stop until she squeezes my bicep, letting me continue. I’m wrapped in molten heat, and I finally push into her completely, my cock buried to the hilt. Jesus. She’s so small it’s almost painful, the way she’s squeezing my dick. Her pussy tightens and relaxes in pulses, and I feel like I’m going to explode.
“Fuck,” I groan deeply, as her pussy walls mold to my cock.
My face is buried up against her neck, and I can feel her wild pulse. This fucking amazing, and we haven’t even done anything yet. I reach down, wrap her legs around my waist, and she locks them behind me tight. Then I pull out, and sink myself back in.
“Oh Macon!” she squeals as I slam into her again. “Oh!”
I know that I should give her a little more time, let her adjust to my huge cock inside of her, but she’s nodding, telling me to go faster, so I do. I let loose, my hips snapping, driving all ten inches deep into that tight cunt of hers. In and out, in and out, a steady pace that has her loosening up just enough for me. I can see myself disappearing into her from this angle, and I move even faster.
My eyes lift up to her, her eyes dazes, her breath coming fast, lips wet. She’s flushed all over, from her cheeks to her breasts, which jiggle with every thrust I make into her virgin cunt.
I’m her first. And I’m going to be her last. The truth blazes through my mind, and it brings me to the edge. I jackhammer into Vanessa, driving myself as deep as I can, lifting her legs higher, reaching to her core. She trembles beneath me, open, vulnerable, giving everything to me.
“You’re mine,” I growl fiercely.
I bring her to me one last time, drive into her with my overwhelming desire for her. I know I haven’t used a condom, and she’s definitely not on birth control. Logic tells me I should stop, but the image of Vanessa, swelling with my seed, her growing belly proof of my claim, blots it all out. The animal in me has to have her, has to spill myself into her.
“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Please!”
So I don’t. I move faster, my hand kneading her breast, pinching her nipples, and we come together, calling out to each other in our release. My balls jerk as I lash out ropes of milky hot cum into her, pleasure making my head swim. Her greedy pussy takes it all, every single drop, squeezing like a vise as we come again and again.
Finally spent, I maneuver so that she’s on top of me, my shaft still inside of her.
“That was amazing,” Vanessa murmurs, resting her head on my chest. I stroke her hair gently, loving this feeling of her in my arms. She’s warm and soft, and I can’t help but run my hand down her curves, cupping her ass. She squeezes her pussy tightly and I groan.
“Again,” I tell her, my dick already hardening back up inside her.
I know that we should stop, that she should probably head back home before someone sees her car outside and wonders why she hasn’t gone home yet. But I’m not ready to let her out of my arms.
Not yet.
Vanessa
Everything feels so good that I don’t even think about protection until it’s time to go and I get up off the sofa. That’s when I realize we hadn’t used any protection at all. I freeze.
“What’s wrong?” Macon asks.
“You came inside of me,” I say. “I could get pregnant.”
“Does that bother you?”
At first I’m shocked by his response, but the more I think about it, the more turned on I feel. I want to be pregnant. I want my belly to grow big with our baby, prove our love to the world.
“It doesn’t bother me at all,” I say slowly.
“Good, because I want it too,” he says. “Coming in you bare feels so good I never want to stop. I never will Vanessa, because you’re the only one I could ever want.”
My eyes search his, wondering if he’s just saying that, but there’s no deceit there. He already has a kid, could he really want more?
“You really want me big and round? My belly growing with your baby?”
He growls at me, an almost feral sound that has me wishing I didn’t have to leave.
“I do,” he promises. “I want everything with you.”
*****
I’d like to say that Macon and I got it on like rabbits, but that’s just a fantasy. The fact is, between Macon’s night classes, taking care of Jamie, and trying hard to avoid the nosy neighbors from discovering what’s going on, we were lucky if we got to spend time alone every few days.
The upshot of it was that we were so ready to get together that we could go a few rounds at the very least. Sometimes I’d be so bruised and sore that it felt like losing my virginity all over again, but I didn’t care. It reminded me of our time together, something that I’m still a bit in disbelief over. Who could have thought that out of all the women in Summerdale, it would be me that Macon chose?
I’m coming home from one of those nights together when my mom decides she wants to talk to me. She’s sitting in the living room, relaxing and watching the news like she usually does. My mom and I don’t have the kind of mother daughter relationship where we tell each other everything. That doesn’t mean we don’t like each other or love each other, we just don’t have that much in common. So I’m just a little wary when she pats the spot next to her on the couch. She probably wants to ask about college again, and I don’t have an answer for her, at least, not one she wants to hear.
“What’s going on mom?” I ask as I curl up on the other end of the couch.
She mutes the T.V. and turns
toward me. Her head is tilted to the side, and I can feel her gaze assessing me. I shift uncomfortably, so aware of the fact that my panties are still stained by Macon’s cum. I feel like she must know, and I shift to tuck my legs under me instead.
“How is your job?” she asks.
It sounds like some kind of trick question, and I’m not sure how to answer. But she looks sincere enough.
“It’s good,” I say hesitantly. “Macon’s daughter, Jamie, is really cute and she’s no trouble to look after at all. I… I’ve even been looking at some colleges while she’s napping, and I’m thinking maybe I would be able to take a course or two online next semester so I can look after her and do school too.”
I expect my mom to frown and say that’s not good enough, but to my surprise she does the opposite.
“That sounds great Vanessa,” she says. “Maybe you’d be able to avoid taking on student loans.”
“It’s my plan.”
She’s got a rueful expression on her face, and she takes a deep sigh.
“You know, at first, I was pretty against you taking on a babysitting job. I wanted you to do something where you could maybe figure out what area of business to go in. But seeing how happy you are coming home these days, well… maybe I was wrong. It’s important to love what you do. God knows that I certainly love my work.”
This is so out of left field that I don’t know what to say. I hoped that maybe one day my mom would understand that I don’t want the same things as her, I just didn’t expect it to be today.
“I know, I know. I’ve been after you to go to business school since day one.”
“You have! What’s brought about this change mom?”
“A client actually,” she says with a laugh. “She’s going to be the new English professor at the university. She told me that her parents didn’t approve of first floor apartments because it’s easy for a thief to get in through the windows. But she herself wanted one so that she could have a garden. So I told her, ‘if you’re old enough to vote, you’re old enough to make your own life decisions’. The irony was not lost to me.”
“And did you find her an apartment?”
“Of course,” she says, giving me a look to say what a dumb question that was. “I found her a perfect apartment with a big walkout yard for her garden. Then I told her to get herself a terrier if she was worried about someone breaking in. Those dogs yap at everything that moves. There’s no way someone’ll get in without waking her up.”
We laugh together.
“Anyways,” my mom says more seriously. “All that’s to say that if you want to spend your semester babysitting, that’s fine by me.”
Gratitude wells up in my chest.
“Thanks mom,” I say softly.
“You’re welcome. Now off you go. I know you probably have Netflix to binge on or something.”
She flips the volume back up and I get up to go. It took a lot for her to admit she was wrong, I know that for a fact. So even though we hadn’t talked about business school quite yet, I feel really happy nonetheless. It’s all about the baby steps, and I think tonight mom and I took one in the right direction this time.
*****
When I get to Macon’s house the next morning, breakfast is in full swing. Baby Jamie is in the high chair, a pink bib around her neck. There’s splatters of oatmeal all over her face and her hands, as well as on Macon. I wipe a bit of it off of his face and pop my finger in my mouth with a smile.
“Something strange happened last night,” I tell him.
I recap my conversation with my mom. He listens intently, or as intently as one can when you have a baby blowing raspberries with a mouth full of food.
“I think I might tell her about my plans for college tonight,” I muse. “What do you think?”
Jamie babbles at me, waving her spoon around.
“Even she thinks it’s a good idea.”
Macon blows on the oatmeal he’s made for Jamie.
“It does sound like she’s coming around,” he says, spooning some food into his daughter’s mouth. “But aren’t you wondering about what prompted the change?”
“I told you,” I say slightly impatiently. “She’s noticed how much I enjoy babysitting.”
“But you’ve been babysitting for years,” he points out.
He does have a point, and I bite at a hangnail.
“Do you think she’s got an ulterior motive then?”
There’s a pause as Jamie drops her sippy cup of milk and I have to go and wash it off for her. It’s her new favorite game to play, and it’s seriously adorable how she laughs while she does it. I can’t let her see that though, cause I know that’ll just encourage her further.
“Lose the battle, win the war,” Macon quotes. “I just find it strange that she’s insisted you go to business school for years, only to do a 180 in a span of days. I don’t think there’s any evil intent behind it. But maybe she’s hoping that by conceding this, you’ll be more likely to go with what she suggests next time.”
“Well I’m not changing my mind,” I say, folding my arms and leaning against the kitchen island. “I’m not.”
Macon puts down the empty bowl of oatmeal, stands up and comes over to me. I look up at him, trying to maintain my defiant expression. But that dissolves into a smile when I look into that handsome face of his. I can’t help it.
“You look adorable when you’re determined,” he says as he kisses me.
“You’ll be late for work,” I say softly. “You should probably go.”
I want him to stay, but I know that some places can have a probation period for up to six months. I don’t want him to get in trouble.
“Probably,” he says, pulling my hand onto his cock. I curl my fingers around the steel length against his thigh. “But I could call in sick.”
I shake my head. No. As much as I want this, Macon has Jamie to worry about. I don’t want him to risk his job like that just for me.
“Tonight,” I tell him instead.
*****
A few days later, Macon surprises me by inviting me out on a date. Up until now, it never occurred to me for us to do something like that, but I guess that makes sense. That’s what people normally do right, when they like each other? Go on dates, have sex. We’d done loads of the latter, so it felt good to do some of the former too. Plus, I really looked forward to the chance to see what it would be like to be with Macon as a couple. We’d have to bring Jamie along, but she’s such an easygoing baby that it wouldn’t be difficult.
The weather on our very first date is perfect. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the weather is warm enough that I can wear just a dress and get away with it too. I choose a soft blue dress with a sweetheart neckline and tie back straps. I think I look sexy but not too over the top, especially since I have no idea what we’ll be doing.
Macon and I made a plan. There’s a Walmart on the outskirts of town, and since it’s open 24 hours a day, I can get away with parking my car there. A few minutes later, Macon drives up to the side in his BMW, I hop in, and we take the exit onto the freeway. It’s as clean an exit as we can hope for, and there’s a good chance nobody saw us.
First thing I do is check the baby mirror. Jamie’s in a cute outfit today too, an adorable pink dress with red glitter hearts all over. She’s got a matching pink cardigan and white lace socks on. She’s sleeping, her head resting on the side of the car seat.
“Couldn’t last in the car, could she?” I ask full of affection.
“Nope,” Macon says, sharing my smile. “Out like a light before I even got to Main Street.”
“You did a good job with her outfit today,” I whisper, keeping my voice down in case it wakes the baby.
“Don’t thank me. I don’t have an eye for baby fashion,” he says. “I think my mother bought the whole outfit as is.”
“Well it looks good,” I say. I turn back towards the front of the car. “And you do too.”
Macon’s in a t-shi
rt that stretches tight across his muscles, a well-worn leather jacket, gray jeans and boots. The whole ensemble has a bad boy vibe, and it’s incredibly sexy.
“I like what you’ve got on too,” he says. I feel his hand slide up the hem of my dress. “You should wear dresses more often.”
“I’ve never had a reason to until now,” I tell him. “But I will.”
It takes us two hours to make it all the way to the city, so our first stop is lunch. Macon tells me that there’s an exciting new restaurant that he’s been dying to try, featuring molecular gastronomy, whatever that means. I’m intrigued by the sound of it, and he promises me that it’s not just spaghetti and meatballs.
We walk in, and right away we’re led towards a prime table near the center of the restaurant. It’s busy, like people lining out the doors busy.
“Mr. Daniels,” the waiter says, showing up with a plate of something that didn’t look like food, but like art. “Compliments of the chef.”
I lean in. There’s puddles of orange and red, and some swirls of dried something, and delicate shavings of what seemed like paper carelessly tossed on top. This is like really modern art. Jamie leans forward, straining to play with the food. I don’t blame her. This looks just like the arts and crafts that I like to set up for her to play with.
“Macon, does everyone know you here?” I ask curiously.
He pauses for a moment and I wonder if maybe I’ve stumbled across something I shouldn’t have. I mean, I know about the crazy will of his grandfather, that gave him the reins to a company so huge and wealthy he could make Forbes richest in a heartbeat. But surely if that was the case he wouldn’t be living in Summerdale?
