Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On

by Giselle Renarde

  What would happen if she touched him too? How would he respond to his daughter’s roommate, a college student, unbuckling his belt and reaching inside his pants? Would he realize this had gone too far? Or would he give in to her once and for all?

  People were walking by—she could sense the presence of others. Savannah opened her eyes to look over Eric’s shoulder, but he only swept her around so she was now pinned between his body and the wrought iron river barrier. She met the gaze of a couple goth girls walking hand-in-hand. One laughed, and then the other did too. “Breeders.”

  “Ignore them,” Eric growled. His breath was so hot and humid it baked her ear and wet her hair. “Touch me, Savannah. Please, just touch me.”

  The invitation brought a surge of electricity racing to her clit. Her legs nearly gave out as he pronounced her name, and she could only thank heaven she was pinned between a man and a wall. She was brave. She was bold. When she plunged her hand inside Eric’s pants and took hold of him, she was never so happy to be a “breeder.” His cock was firm and fat. It felt good in her hand and it would feel even better, she knew, in her pussy.

  Savannah’s head seemed to spin. As Eric played with her engorged clit, she formed a fist around his erection and pumped. He made all sorts of sounds as she worked him—sighs and wheezes, screeches and moans—and every one amused her and drove her to produce more. Every noise he made said to her, “Savannah, you’re gorgeous. I love what you do to me. You work my cock like a vixen. Nobody’s ever touched me like you have.”

  Eric wrapped his palm around her mound and pressed the meat of it against her clit. His hold on her was so firm he nearly lifted her off her feet. Every slight motion up or down brought a tremble straight to her core. Her juice was everywhere as he snuck a finger up inside her slit. And another.

  And then he ceased all motion. She looked into his eyes to see what was wrong, but met only a masterly tease. Her heart pounded in her chest as a vicious smile crept across his lips. He was playing her, and he was in charge. He wasn’t going to move an inch, and if she wanted to get off on his firm fingers and the flesh of his palm, she’d have to damn well do it herself.

  Fine, Eric. Savannah could play that way. If he wanted to get off on her fist, he wouldn’t get any more help from her. She’d hold his cock tight, sure. She’d let that big boy drool precum all over her fingers, fine. But would she jerk him off? Would she even move a muscle? Hell no!

  When Eric read the look of childish petulance in her eyes, he bit his lip with a pointed canine. “You want to get off?” he asked. “What are you going to do about that?”

  “Easy,” Savannah replied. Writhing against his palm, she jerked her hips in slow circles. With every thrust, his fingers fucked her and his hand stoked her clit.

  He was close to her, locked against her body by the hand inside her jeans. She could feel his breath all over as she held her fist steady around his cock. As she moved her hips, he moved his. Eric’s erection attempted escape—she felt his smooth flesh curl up around his drooling cockhead—but escape was not allowed. When she closed her fingers tight as she could around his tip, Eric moaned and thrust his cock back through her fist.

  As he thrust, she writhed. Though his cock and her pussy were separated by four layers of clothing, their hands brought them together. She could hardly ignore the impact on her faculties as she forced his fingers inside her pussy. Grinding against his palm, she worked her hips hard. His fingers filled her slit. The wave was coming to knock her over. The climax was inevitable.

  Her sighs became grunts. She had to kiss him to keep from releasing a scream that would have brought the entire police force to her rescue. As she kissed him and writhed against his hand, he thrust his cock through her fist. She could taste his desire on his tongue. He grabbed her ass and squeezed it hard as he kissed her, and his lust brought hers to a fever pitch. She could feel her pussy clenching, clinging to his fingers, begging them to stay inside her forever. They were perfectly placed, hitting just the right spot. When she rubbed her clit on his palm, her whole body exploded, cell by cell, centralized in her tingling bud and flowing out to her fingertips.

  Savannah’s knees went weak. As she gave her weight over to Eric, she felt his muscles tighten. His body shuddered. When he yelped, Savannah felt a hot stream of cum against her forearm. It met her bare flesh in warm spurts, one after another. Her breath followed suit, tumbling from her lungs in currents of pure fulfillment.

  For a moment, Savannah didn’t move and neither did Eric. The air between them was thick with excised lust. His sweet breath met her lips as he backed away, gazing at her in disbelief all the while. “Did that really happen?” he chuckled, extracting his hand from Savannah’s jeans.

  Leaving Eric’s spent cock inside his pants, she looked down at her arm and giggled with nerves. “If it didn’t really happen, god only knows where this came from.”

  “Sorry,” Eric said.

  They both stared at the drizzle of cum down her arm. When the awkwardness of the situation started to set in, Savannah giggled again and looked out across the water. “Guess I’d better wash this off, huh?”

  “Where? In the river?”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish before tossing one leg and then the other over the wrought iron fence. “Might as well.”

  The look on his face was positively paternal. “Well…be careful, okay?”

  She very nearly said, “Yes, father,” just as a joke, but the more she thought about it, the less amusing it became. Instead, she said, “Don’t worry. I’ve done this a hundred times,” and left it at that.

  Setting one hand on the crumbling ground underfoot, Savannah attempted her way down the steep incline.

  “Careful,” Eric said once again.

  As she looked up at him, she pressed her foot down against a sapling, but it didn’t have the strength to support her weight. It bent. She slipped. Though she grasped the dirt with both hands, she began to slide down the hill. Savannah tried to get herself upright, but that was exactly the wrong thing to do. Her ankle twisted, and after that she couldn’t do jack to help herself. The pain shot up through her leg, and she hollered in agony as she tumbled down toward the river.

  Chapter Nine

  “Savannah!” Eric cried. “Christ, what did I tell you? Are you all right?”

  She turned her head just in time to catch Eric hopping the fence and side-stepping his way down loose dirt. “It’s just my ankle,” she said. “I’ll walk it off. I’m fine.”

  Fortunately, falling flat on her butt stopped her from plummeting into the river, but even at a standstill, her ankle hurt like hell. “What a stupid thing to do,” Eric went on. Savannah didn’t mind—in fact, she would have been offended if his concern wasn’t so obvious. His hand trembled as he reached for her cheek.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him, kissing the palm that had so recently been nestled against her clit. Her arm was now covered in dirt. She tried to be subtle about it as she wiped his mud-splattered cum off against her jeans. “Just help me up and I’ll be fine,” she said, offering a fake smile. “Don’t worry.”

  He seemed to believe her about as much as she believed herself. Digging his feet into the dirt, he grabbed her by the naked underarms and heaved her up. The minute she put pressure on her left foot, an electric shock shot up her leg. She shrieked again and tumbled down, very nearly dragging Eric with her. But no. He had her and he held her tight.

  “See?” he said. “You’re not fine. You can’t even stand up.”

  “It’s okay,” she repeated. How could she possibly convince him he didn’t have to worry? “Let’s just get back up to the walkway.”

  He looked down at her, then up toward the railing, and then back down at her. “Do you have a cell phone? We’re going to have to put you in an ambulance.”

  Panic erupted in her chest. As if she wasn’t embarrassed enough already! How humiliating would it be to spend her night with Eric in the emergency room? “No,” she s
aid in the flat sort of tone no man could argue with. “I told you I’m fine. All we have to do is get back up that hill.”

  He took a deep breath and then asked again, “Do you have a phone with you?”

  She didn’t want to lie to him, so she didn’t answer the question. “Please,” she begged. “Don’t make a big deal out of this. Just…please, let’s go home.”

  For a moment, Eric stood very still beside her. When that moment had passed, he descended to his hands and knees in the dirt. “Let’s try this: can you climb on to my back?”

  “Yeah,” Savannah said before thinking it through. She’d have to throw her left leg over his backside, and she wasn’t sure she had that much control over its functions at the moment. So, instead, she propped herself up on her right hand and her right knee before grabbing his far shoulder with her left hand. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slid her front against his back until she was so close she could nearly taste him. “Okay,” she said. “I’m on board.”

  Reaching into the dirt, Eric propelled them both forward. It was slow-going, but he managed to crawl up the incline with Savannah clinging to his back. “Hardly heroic,” he laughed, gripping the very sapling that had betrayed Savannah earlier.

  “Sure it is.” Savannah felt guilty that she’d roped him into saving her and also managed to make him feel like he wasn’t doing a good job of it. “You found a way to get me out of this mess when nothing else would work. Of course that’s heroic.”

  Tugging on the sapling, Eric propelled them further up the hill. “Crawling on my hands and knees like a dog hardly qualifies as heroic.”

  “I don’t know.” Savannah chuckled despite the pain. “Some of my best memories involve being on my hands and knees like a dog.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her as he reached out for the wrought iron fence. They were nearly at the top! Savannah breathed a sigh of relief into Eric’s ear as he went on, “Heroic is throwing the girl over your shoulder and carrying her from a burning building.”

  “Well, how about you carry me over your shoulder on the way home?” she teased. The pain in her ankle decreased every time she laughed, and the idea of Eric carrying her down the street certainly had that effect. “I think we really need to be on solid ground before you get all heroic on my ass.”

  “Hold on tight,” Eric said as he clung to the fence and pulled them both upright. Savannah struggled to plant her right foot firmly on the ground without letting the left one set down. She hopped in place as Eric slid his arm around her waist. “How’s that? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, meaning the word more than she had the last few times she’d said it. “I’m just not sure how I’m going to hop back over this fence.”

  Overlapping voices echoed along the path. The same two hand-holding goth girls they’d encountered earlier sauntered back along the walkway.

  “Oh, thank god,” Eric said. His tone struck Savannah as truly grateful. “Girls, I’m sorry to intrude, but would you mind giving us a hand over here? My friend here slipped and hurt her ankle. Do you think I could pass her over the fence to you both?”

  “If you dip her in chocolate first,” one whispered to the other. They both chuckled like the stuck-up front-row girls in her classes, who laughed like hyenas at every little joke the professors cracked. But Savannah shouldn’t be so harsh. After all, they were coming over to help.

  “Ready for this?” Eric asked, wedging one of his feet through the fence.

  Without waiting for an answer, he slipped one hand around Savannah’s shoulder, with the other nestled just below her hip. Picking her up, he heaved her into the waiting hands of the goth girls across the fence. The taller girl with shorter hair grabbed hold of Savannah’s underarms while the shorter girl with longer hair held on to her butt and her thigh. She’d never felt so many random hands all over her body! The sheer thrill of that mosh-pit sensation made her forget about the pain in her ankle.

  That moment of ebullience didn’t last too long. When the girls set her down on the walkway, the pain came surging back. She held on to the fence and hopped on her right foot, thanking the goth girls effusively. From now on, she planned on being nicer to freaky chicks.

  The girl with long dark hair and a sparkling red necklace brought a cell phone from her purse. “Are you okay? I can call you an ambulance, if you want.”

  “No, no,” Savannah replied, waving her free hand. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you for your help, but I’m good now. Crisis averted.”

  Eric sprang over the fence, seemingly full of adrenaline after dragging a broken Savannah up the hill. In one fluid motion, both goth girls turned to him but said nothing.

  “Thank you both,” Eric gushed.

  They demurred with him. When they mumbled, “No problem,” they didn’t seem more than teenagers. With great effort, Savannah convinced the girls she required no further assistance, beyond that which her white knight could provide.

  Once the goth girls had sauntered off hand in hand, Eric turned to Savannah and asked, “Shall we?”

  “One second,” she replied. Clinging to the wrought iron fence with one hand, she reached out with the other and latched on to Eric’s dirty white shirt. She wrapped her fist around the fabric and looked him in the puzzled eye, trying to appear seductive and not the least bit in pain. Pulling him in, she kissed him with the full force of her gratitude. For a moment, he didn’t react. He was probably too stunned.

  After one melting moment, Eric reached his hands around her hips and pulled her into a scorching embrace. As long as she didn’t let her left foot touch the ground, she could feel no pain. There was only pleasure in Eric’s forceful touch. His kiss sent her mind reeling off in all directions before spinning back like a dizzy top to its starting point. He’d asked her a very simple question: “Shall we?”

  Tearing her lips from his, Savannah watched Eric’s eyelids flutter open. She answered, “We shall.”

  A devilish smile broke across Eric’s lips. “Get ready for this,” he warned her as he tightened his grip on her hips. “One, two, three…alley oop!”

  Savannah used her good foot to push off the ground. With a heaving grunt, Eric hoisted her up and over his shoulder. Her belly landed with breathtaking blow right next to his neck and her front hung down his back like a rolled-up carpet. “Well?” she chuckled, though thoroughly winded. “Do you feel heroic now?”

  “You bet!” Eric shot back. “Just wait until I get you alone!”

  She smacked his ass, he smacked hers, and they were homeward bound.

  Chapter Ten

  Not a moment too soon, Eric dropped Savannah down on the couch.

  “Christ Almighty!” she hollered, laughing through the pain. “I’m not a deer carcass, man! You gotta be ginger with me.”

  “Only if you’ll be Fred with me.”

  Savannah heard the freezer door open, but she couldn’t force her body high enough to see over the back of the couch. Her ankle panged with every movement. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  With a bag of frozen vegetables in each hand, Eric clarified. “Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers—Fred and Ginger?”

  Though she rolled her eyes, she couldn’t help laughing. “That’s what I call a dad joke,” she told him. “My dad and my uncles are always making stupid jokes like that. They are so not funny, but I still laugh every time.”

  Eric’s tone was slightly less playful when he said, “Well, I am a dad, after all…”

  “Don’t remind me.” With her head on a couch cushion, Savannah looked up at him. She could tell he was searching her expression for some clue as to how he should react. The conversation could have gone too deep too fast, and Savannah wasn’t ready for that yet. She smiled, and he followed suit.

  “So,” he went on, showcasing his bags of frozen vegetables. “Peas or beans? Pick your poison.”

  “Are those French cut beans with the little bits of onion and red pepper?” she teased, imitating the girls from the neigh
bourhood back home. “Hell, them’s fancy! I’ll take ‘em.”

  With a waiterly nod, Eric stole a pillow from the opposite end of the couch. He cleared away study notes and magazines before placing it on the coffee table. On top of the pillow, he set the frozen French beans and then helped Savannah squirm into an upright position on the couch. It hurt like hell when she extended her foot, but once she’d set her ankle down on the frozen vegetables, the pain began to subside. She knew how easy it was to experience a psychosomatic placebo effect, even from something as simple as food from the freezer, but she was glad for the relief either way.

  “What are you doing with the peas?” she laughed as he sat down beside her and shoved the bag behind him. “Inventing a new cooling system?”

  “That too.” He let his head fall to rest on the back of the couch before letting out an aching moan. “My back is killing me! Remind me not to carry any more college girls across town on my shoulder.”

  She raised her eyebrow at him, but he wasn’t looking. The ache humming through her body, along with the painkillers she’d pulled from her purse on the jerky back-ride home, had her feeling giddy and loose. “Hey, man, you wanted to be the hero.”

  “Never again,” he vowed, hand to heart. “I’m too old for heroics.”

  “I’ve already argued with you enough on that point. From now on when you say you’re old, I’m just going to agree with you.”

  Something buzzed in the front hall. For a split second, Savannah cringed at the thought of Stacy walking through that door and ruining the flirtatious repartee she had going on with her roommate’s father. As the buzzing continued, Savannah realized she’d put her phone on vibrate while Chris’ band played its set. She’d never changed it back to ring.