Instantly, she released his nipple and ground her hips hard against him.
“What did I tell you about trying to make things happen before it’s time?” she asked, an edge to her voice.
Chastened, he responded, “you said not to. You said I have to be patient and wait for you to be in control.” He gasped, the pain of the pressure on his growing cock intermingled with pleasure.
Her head dipped to lick his still erect nipple. Her lips barely brushed it as she whispered, “that’s right. Do as I say and you will be rewarded. If you don’t listen, you’ll be punished.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll listen.”
Again she ground her hips into him, the pain making way to pleasure which made his cock throb until he thought he might lose it right there. He twisted the fabric of the duvet cover in his hands, wanting desperately to grab her by the hips and take her with all his strength.
“That’s better,” Heather murmured. She dipped her hips and took his entire long, pulsating meat in one thrust. “Gage, come here. I want you in my mouth.”
Gage did as he was told, coming to Heather’s side and holding his burgeoning hard on in his hand.
“Good boy.” She rewarded him by slipping her velvety soft lips over his head and swallowing him completely.
Slowly, she began to bob up and down on Jonathan’s cock while expertly sucking Gage. The men exchanged looks of incredulity, then both shrugged, deciding that enjoying her ministrations was more important than questioning how she had such skill.
She increased the pace, matching her mouth with the speed of her powerful legs which drove Jonathan’s long cock deep into her over and over again. She moaned, her throat vibrating Gage’s cock in a way he’d never felt before. She slammed down on Jonathan’s rod as her body began to convulse, her pussy squeezing him so hard he thought he might burst.
Unable to hold out any longer, Gage shot his hot seed down her throat. She gulped it hungrily, not losing a drop. Licking him clean, she released him. He fell back against the pillows, sated. She bounced a few more times on Jonathan before her body was racked with another orgasm, this one even harder than the last.
“Fuck,” he exclaimed to no one in particular.
Giving up trying to follow her rules, Jonathan grabbed her ample hips and held her down hard, forcing his cock deep into her as she came over and over again. Her tight pussy squeezed his cock until he also came, filling her with his hot jizz.
She collapsed on top of him, her breath coming hard and fast. She sighed, satisfied at least for the moment. Sliding him gently out of her, she fell to the side. Gage curled behind her and pulled her against his chest. She relaxed easily into his arms.
Chapter Ten
Her head popped out of the clear blue water with a splash. She stood in the shallow end and looked around the patio. Spotting him, her face broke into a huge grin.
“Hey there, stud!”
“What’s up, pretty lady?”
It had become their routine that he would come out to chat while she did her morning swim. The growing light of daybreak cast soft shadows on her face. There was no mistaking the glow that seeing him brought to her cheeks, regardless of the lighting.
It was two weeks after their little ménage a trois with Jonathan. While they’d not invited him to the bedroom again, Heather and Gage had spent almost every night together since.
Paddling to the deep end, she asked, “did you make my coffee yet?”
With a snicker, he replied, “I’ve got your coffee right here.” Dropping his shorts, he dove into the water with the skill of an Olympian.
She treaded water as she watched his powerful body cut through the calm water. He popped up in the shallow end, shaking water from his blonde hair like a dog.
“Hey now, I said coffee; not join me in the pool! I still have fourteen laps left!” She splashed water in his direction, as he sidestroked towards her.
“Keep going,” he puffed. “I’ll just be here by your side.”
She smiled sweetly at him as he began to tread water in front of her. She kicked her legs up so that she was floating at the top of the water and leaned in to give him a quick peck.
“I think I just might love you, Gage. Race you to the shallow end!” Without giving him time to process the surprising declaration, she ducked her head into the water and began to frog across the surface.
“Hey!” he called out, then dove after her.
Being younger and a naturally strong swimmer, he beat her to the deep end. He positioned himself in front of her, so as she came up for breath, he captured her in his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she looked up at him. His moss green eyes had turned serious.
He held her to him, enjoying the feeling of his hard cock against her bare, smooth pussy. When she had first begun swimming naked, he had thought it funny. But as the days passed, he found that watching her curvaceous body move through the cool water in the pool was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. He could really get into this nude swimming thing.
He focused his attention on her lake blue eyes and asked, “Did you mean it?”
Attempting playfulness, she teased, “mean what?”
He gave her a slight shake, to emphasize his seriousness. “You know what I’m talking about. Did you mean it?”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she smiled warmly. “Yes, Gage, I meant it. I think I’m falling in love with you. I’m terrified because in some ways it seems so wrong. But in others, it feels so right. I’m happiest when you’re near. I’ve really loved falling asleep with you every night. Not to mention all the other fun we’ve had lately.” She punctuated her last point by squirming to slip his cock into her pussy.
He groaned. Grabbing her ass, he shoved himself into her. He reveled in the heat of her slippery cunt. Grinding into her, he pressed his face against hers. They were eye to eye now.
Pausing, he murmured, “I think I’m falling for you too, Heather.”
Her pussy tightened around his cock as she reached to kiss him.
“God, woman, you’re going to kill me.”
“Good, you deserve it for interrupting my morning swim.”
“Does this mean I can move out of the pool house?”
“Only if you want to.”
“And what about the rent?”
She threw back her head and laughed. He’d never noticed how adorable her laugh was. There were so many new and wonderful things he’d learned about Heather since their first encounter in the dining room. She was beautiful, patient, kind, and an absolute animal in the sack.
He thrust his cock into her eager pussy again. He didn’t know where they were headed. All he knew was the he was in for one hell of a great ride.
The BBW MILF Gets Taken Rough
By: Olivia A. Raine
The BBW MILF Gets Taken Rough
©Olivia A. Raine, 2016 – All rights reserved
Published by Steamy Reads4U
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Warning
This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.
If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, pleas
e close this book now.
Chapter One
Mrs. Danielle Malone was devastated. She’s in the front row, a black net veiling her eyes as she wept. It was so sudden. Jerry had been her rock. And now he was gone. When they first dated, folks sneered, saying she was dating him only for his money. What did a twenty-eight-year-old woman want with a fifty-two-year-old man?
Now, three years later, as people finally accepted them as a couple, Jerry dropped dead. He just collapsed. He left most of his estate to his son, Richie, which was fine with her because he was a boy -- well a young man now of nineteen -- and he had college ahead of him. Jerry left Danielle well taken care of. Besides she had her own business. An organics skin care products. Most of her clients were masseuses.
Life was good in so many ways. Danielle was young, beautiful, and rich. She lived in a beautiful, sweeping ranch house in a development with rambling lots separated by equestrian fences. She was avid rider. Jerry built a small horse barn for her and she had one thoroughbred and one warm blood in the stalls. She was such a lucky woman.
But she was alone. Heartbroken. The love of her life was now gone. She sat next to Richie who was just as torn up about the loss of Jerry as she was. Jerry was his hero. The two would occasionally take the other’s hand and just hold on for dear life. This was hard. But they would get through it together. They were all each other had.
After the funeral, after the wake, Danielle nodded on the sofa. She was awakened by the soft sound of laughter outside the house. It was dark outside. No telling how long she had been asleep. It was the first sleep she remembered having since Jerry died. It would be a long time before that happened again.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning. Richie was outside with his friends and apparently sharing some good times. But she needed to try to go to sleep. He must have thinking the same thing for no sooner had she thought about asking him to wrap it up did she hear a car loading up and driving out. Richie stepped inside the entry way.
“Hey there,” he said.
Richie was the kid and here he was taking care of her. She could hear it in his voice.
“What are you still doing up?” he asked.
“Same as you,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“I think this might be the first funeral that I’ve been to where I didn’t sneak a little alcohol,” he said.
“Yeah this attending funerals sober thing is for the birds,” she teased.
Richie was such a sweet kid but in so many ways he was already such a man. He was definitely his father’s son. He looked a lot like Jerry. He was tall and lean. And while his dad never had an ounce of fat on him and it was obvious where Richie got his amazing looks from, Richie definitely had a young man’s body.
He had changed out of his funeral attire and even his wake attire. He was hanging out with his friends in a tank top and shorts. The tank top’s arm holes were gaping and when he moved a certain way, Danielle had a clear shot of his magnificent torso.
Richie poured them each a drink -- just one -- a couple of Black Russians, his father’s favorite drink. The drink was deceptive so both of them knew enough to sip. Danielle did not want to get sick on top of grief and sleeplessness.
The sugary drink was so smooth. So cold. The Kahlua was like dessert. It literally hit the spot because she hadn’t eaten all day. It was light on her body and gave her a calorie boost.
“What are you thinkin’?” Richie asked softly as he huddled up against her.
Poor guy, thought Danielle. Amazing young man. Always in such good spirits. His mother ran off and left him when he was eleven. Now Jerry had been cautious when the he and Danielle got together. She and Richie always hit it off right away. They had always been more like buddies.
As they sipped the sweet, delicious liquor, Danielle was acutely aware of the way he felt as he brushed up against her when he moved. He was sitting so close to her, cozying up to her. Each time his firm young body grazed hers, waves of erotic electricity pulsed through her. The wires of arousal go right to her core and makes her wet; goes right to her nipples and made them hard.
She is afraid he will detect them through her flimsy blouse. She hunched a little bit, cloaked her excitement with her forearms but that made her neckline bell out. If she could see right down her shirt so could he.
“You did an amazing job with all of this,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I couldn’t do it without you,” she replied.
She leaned into him. He had his big paw around her shoulder. Danielle felt so safe and secure and comfortable. His body was so warm. Despite the bouts of insomnia since the death of her husband, she had the thought that she wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping on him. She would sleep a deep luscious sleep. He grounded her.
And on that note, Danielle set her drink down. She rose to her feet. It was time to go to bed. Her head started to foray into dangerous places. She had to move past the surrealism of being a hot young widow, lest she change the description of her relationship with her hot young stepson.
Chapter Two
“I’ll lock up,” said Richie. “But I think I may be up for a while. Let me know if the TV bothers you.”
He collected the drinks and set them in the sink. Danielle padded into the master bedroom. The big, sprawling bed that she and Jerry slept was tightly made. So neat. Danielle could not quite bring herself to sleep on the bed. It was such a comfortable bed and yet as she approached it, it was as though there were an invisible force field between her and the bed. She couldn’t do it.
She lit candles in the room, stripped down naked and drew herself a bath. She was exhausted but knew it now, she would not be sleeping well that night. She laid down in the bath tub and let the warm water cradle her.
She had carried a candle into the bathroom and focused on its flickering flame. At some point she did manage to fall asleep. She awoke the second time that evening. Richie was blowing out the candle. It had burned down to just the wick and the last bit of wax.
“Hey,” he said, not apparently reacting to the fact she was buck naked, “time to go bed.”
He went into the bedroom. She heard him pull back the bedcovers. He reappeared and released the tub water. He helped to her feet and wrapped her with the towel. He lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
She didn’t let him know of her aversion to the bed. She let him tuck her in. He sweetly drew the covers up around her. He rubbed her back as she played possum, trying to drift off. The trick worked. She managed to string together a couple of hours of solid sleep and in the master bed even.
He had removed the towel once he placed her in the bed, so she slept nude against the soft sheets. It was so luxurious. She stretched and rolled and knocked up against him. A jolt of surprise threw open her eyes. Richie had fallen asleep next to her. He slept on top of the comforter but pulled the edge of the blanket on his side, up and over him.
Danielle spied the towel draped over the chair adjacent to the bed. She snagged it to wrap herself up in and stole over to her dresser for some real clothes. Richie stirred.
“Morning,” he murmured lazily.
Danielle spied at him over her shoulder. He had rich tousled curls that framed his face like Adonis. He stretched his magnificent body like a contented cat. Well at least he wasn’t too uncomfortable sleeping the way he did. But it was definitely awkward waking up to him the way she did. She snuck into the bathroom and dressed.
The only thing she could grab in a hurry were a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. They worked. She knotted her shirt up at her rib cage to compensate for the fact that she was not wearing a bra. She did not have large breasts; but she thought they were perfect all the same. She tiptoed into the kitchen to start the coffee. Entering the kitchen, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee rolled up to her. Richie had set up the coffee to automatically brew for her. She poured herself a cup.
Richie was right behind her. He ro
se up behind her like a welcomed shadow. She wondered if he could see her smile. He was clad only in a pair of shorts. His sweet, young chiseled chest was bare for her to secretly enjoy. He reached for a mug. Danielle chuckled.
“And since when did you start drinking coffee, mister?” she playfully scolded.
“Uh, since Lacrosse,” he answered in kind. “Getting up at ungodly hours to get her done takes a little help.”
“So like when?” she asked.
Danielle was completely unaware about this fact about her stepson.
“Like tenth grade? Dad made it for me,” he replied.
“I guess that answers my next question,” she shook her head.
The fact that Jerry had made Richie coffee secretly made her love them more. Richie knew she was not annoyed.
Richie towered over her. He mussed her head like she was one of his pals and then, as she had been loitering by the coffee pot, he simply encased her with his body as he fixed his coffee. If Danielle turned around he would basically be embracing her. She really liked the feel of his body.
She ducked under his arm and waded out to the sun room. It was such a lovely room, nothing but windows from chair-level up. It was just the right coolness in the summer and just the right warmth in winter. The slight chill of the slate floors was soothing to Danielle’s bare feet. She curled up on the wicker furniture and despite the summer time, drew an afghan over her ankles. She sipped her coffee. She had added milk and sugar. It was delicious and perfect.
Richie brought his coffee out. Danielle spied to see what he would drink. If he would drink it black or if he would doctor it with sugar like she did. He looked adorable with his scruffy hair. She had the strongest urge to run her fingers through it. He sat in his chair sideways, draping it with his legs over the arms. He held his mug like he was holding a cup of soup.
Romance: Yes, Stepbrother! Page 16
