by K. Webster
He squeezes my hand. “I can’t wait to see him.”
I frown and stare out the window, ignoring the pattering in my heart. “I’m a grandma.”
His chuckling has me glaring at him.
“What?”
“A G.I.L.F.”
“A grandma you’d like to fuck?” I screech. “You’re twisted. You know that, Anthony Blakely?”
His laughter is sexy. Throaty and deep. God, this manboy does things to me.
“I call it like it is, Greenwood.”
Shaking my head, I try to swallow down my embarrassment. “Does it bother you? My age, I mean.”
He grows serious as he pulls into the busy parking lot and parks. His body angles my way and he tugs my hand that’s in his grip to his mouth. Kiss after kiss, he makes sure each knuckle on my hand gets attention. “I don’t see age with you, teacup. I only see you. Beautiful. Funny as fuck. Genuine and sweet.”
I melt under his adoring stare. “They don’t make men like you anymore.” At one time, I had one and I loved him with everything in me. When he died, I knew I’d never find that again. But with Anthony, I feel as though I was wrong. I just had to wait a little while for it.
“Come on,” he says with a grin. “Now that we’ve established I’m a sexy god of a man and you’re my queen, let’s go eat. I’m fucking starved and you ran off the help before he could cook us a good meal.”
“I ran him off?” I ask with a laugh. “You practically sent him off to go have sex with your nemesis’s daughter.”
“I wasn’t the one throwing condoms at him on his way out the door,” he teases.
“Honestly, Anthony.”
He climbs out of the jeep and rushes over to my side. Like the gentleman I’m discovering he is, he opens my door and offers me his elbow.
“Nice save,” I say with a grin.
He winks at me. “I love this dress on you.”
Heat blooms on my cheeks as we walk toward the restaurant. “Thank you.”
I’m surprised that the hostess takes us right inside the busy restaurant to a table by the window. Once we’re seated, I lift a brow in question.
“How did we get right in on a Friday night?”
“I’m friends with Melissa. She’s the hostess. I just texted her and had her save us a table.” He shrugs as he picks up the menu.
I browse through the wine menu for a moment and am about to ask what he’s getting but then feel silly because I remember he’s only eighteen. Crap. Water it is for me.
“What can I get you two?” a nice young man questions when he arrives at our table. He flashes Anthony a wide grin.
Anthony smirks. “A bottle of your house wine and bring some of those mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat.”
The waiter nods and takes off. I laugh as I peek over my menu at him.
“You seriously just got away with ordering wine? I can’t believe he didn’t card you.”
“Charlie owes me for that fumble during playoffs. I’m still pissed over that,” he says. “What I’ve learned in this town is that you can get away with whatever you want. You just have to get in there and take it.”
I roll my eyes because he reminds me of his dad. Quinn Blakely’s been trying to get me to come work at his company for years. Always throws down an exorbitant salary amount and promises of a corner office overlooking the city. It’s his smug I-know-you-want-this-job attitude that always has me telling him no. I’ve worked for Howard since Lacy was in diapers. I’ll probably retire there one day. Sure, I may not get paid tons, but it feels like home there.
Dinner goes by with ease and I find myself giggling over everything Anthony says. Maybe it’s the wine. It’s definitely the wine. He just drinks the one glass while I guzzle down the bottle. I can’t help but notice some judgmental stares from people I recognize—people my age. Anthony doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, he’s happy to be here with me. Proud, not at all embarrassed.
Screw those who don’t like us here on a date together.
I really like Anthony. He makes me forget I’m so much older. If anything, he makes me feel closer to his age than my own.
“Dessert?” he asks, his lips quirked up on one side in a boyish grin.
“Maybe we should take it to go,” I purr.
His eyes darken with understanding. “Charlie, check, please.” He snaps his fingers—another one of his dad’s signature moves—and the waiter rushes off to close out our bill.
He reaches across the table and links his fingers with mine. “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you laugh.”
I beam at him. “Are you this sweet with all the women you date?”
“I don’t date much.” With his free hand he rubs the back of his neck and gives me an almost shy smile that has me wanting to crawl right into his lap to kiss it off his face. “I’m only sweet with you. Most people would tell you I’m an asshole.”
“Oh,” I tease. “I should feel really special then since I’m the only one.”
His jaw clenches and he pierces me with a hot stare. “The only one.”
My skin flushes and I’m eager to get back home. I want him undressing me. Soon. Now that I’ve had him last night, I’m craving more from this young beast. I want him to tear me apart with his teeth and then put me back together again with his tongue.
“Stephanie,” a familiar voice mutters. “Is that you?”
I tear my gaze from Anthony’s perfect face and find myself staring up at my best friend. Anita and her husband Rod, or Dr. Morgan as this town knows him, stand beside our table. Rod is fifteen years older than Anita and is already white-haired. Despite her efforts to make her skin and appearance younger, she acts as though she’s an old fuddy-duddy like her husband.
“Hi, Anita. Dr. Morgan,” I greet them both with a forced smile.
Anita’s gaze falls to where I hold hands with Anthony and her mouth parts. Her eyes flicker with distaste. “I see you’re dating?”
“Yes,” Anthony answers for me, giving my hand a squeeze. “Anthony Blakely.”
Nobody moves to shake hands. The air around us is thick and charged.
I start to pull from his grip, but he doesn’t release me. “Good seeing you guys,” I squeak out.
Dr. Morgan glances at my breasts and winks at me. Anita, who doesn’t ever notice her husband’s leering personality, arches a perfectly sculpted brow at me.
“You’ve turned into quite the cougar,” she clips out, a fake smile plastered on her lips. “How charming.”
“Raaaawr,” I joke, my entire face igniting with flames as I make a clawing motion with my hand and nearly knock over my empty wineglass in the process.
Anthony snorts and waves the waiter over. He hands the kid a wad of bills and stands, towering over everyone but never releasing my hand. “If you’ll excuse us, my lovely lady and I would like to continue our date. Nice to meet you.”
I’m tugged from my seat and his arm protectively goes around my waist.
God, he smells so good.
“Tomorrow, the gals and I are going for sushi and drinks. Be a doll and come with us. No more excuses. We miss you,” Anita pleads, her unnaturally plump lips pouting out. “I won’t back down on this. I’m sure everyone would love to hear all about your dating a younger man. That way we can all live vicariously through you.” She flashes her husband a fake smile before regarding me again. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
Before I can answer, she walks away, dragging Dr. Morgan behind her. Anthony is quiet as he guides me out of the restaurant and into the jeep. I sense that he’s upset about something, so I quietly gnaw on my bottom lip and wring my hands together the entire trip home. As soon as he pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car, he lets out a sigh.
“What?” I ask, peering at him from beneath my lashes.
His penetrating stare burns right through me. “Does she always talk to you like that?”
I wave him off. “I’ve been friends with her since high school. We have history.�
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“It doesn’t give her a reason to be a bitch,” he grunts. “So what if we’re dating? We’re both adults. She was acting like you told her you’d been exposed to some contagious disease.”
“I owe her. She’s been there for me a lot through my life.” My shoulders hunch in defeat. Truth is, all she does is take. Sure, she’s helped me out financially a couple of times like when Lacy needed braces coincidentally at the same time the house needed a new roof. I paid her back every penny. But what she takes is whatever happiness I have. She likes to exploit it and point out the flaws. She always does it in a slight, underhanded way. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been pulling away from her slowly over the years to begin with. But still, sometimes I just feel bad because we do have history.
“You don’t owe her anything,” Anthony grumbles. “She doesn’t just get to say rude things to you and you have to accept it because you go way back.” He lets out a sigh. “Come here.”
I glance at him and with an irritated frown on his face, he appears much older than a guy who’s not even in college yet. When I don’t make any moves to obey him, he reaches over the console and grabs my hips. I squeal when he drags me into his lap. With my legs straddling his, I settle on his muscular thighs.
He cups my cheeks and stares into my eyes. “What we are…” he trails off as his attention falls to my parted lips. “What we are only matters to you and me. Who cares what hoity-toity people like your friend and her husband think? Aren’t you having fun with me?”
“I am but for how long?” I want to slap myself for asking that stupid question. I’ll blame the wine for my loose lips.
He reaches a hand up to my hair and then slides it behind my neck. With a quick tug, he unties the top of my dress and the material falls to my waist, leaving my chest bare and exposed. His large hands are greedy as he cups my breasts. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
I melt against him at his words. My fingers slide into his hair that I’ve been dying to touch all night and I draw him to me for a kiss. Our lips mash together for a brief second before we both lose control. Nipping and sucking and gasping for air, we each try to devour the other. His dark facial hair that’s a little more than a five o’clock shadow scratches my skin raw as we kiss. I moan into his mouth and roll my hips, eager for more. He roams his hands all over my body, taking turns between grabbing my breasts and groping my ass. My panties are soaked and I want them gone. I want him—every thick hard inch—deep inside of me.
“You’re so perfect,” he rasps as he pushes me away until my back is against the steering wheel. He leans forward and runs his tongue between my breasts. “These tits are fucking divine.”
I groan and then let out a kitten-like mewl when he bites my nipple. His tongue soothes away the sting, but then he bites me again. I tear at his buttons on his shirt in desperation. Too many clothes still separate us.
“I need you,” I beg, my hips rotating as I grind myself against his throbbing erection.
“Pull my cock out,” he orders, his voice raw and husky.
I push my dress out of the way so I can find his belt. Together, we tear away at his jeans. As I tug his thick cock into my grip, he pushes his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His long fingers explore their way under my dress and yank my panties to the side. He doesn’t have to instruct me what happens next. I sit up on my knees and then I’m sitting down on him. His girth is something I need to get used to. Even in my slightly inebriated haze, it still stings to be stretched out so fully. I gasp and groan until I’m finally situated on him.
“You belong right here,” he tells me, his eyes wild with lust. “Where I can properly adore you, teacup.”
“You always say the most romantic stuff,” I say as though I’m complaining. But I’m not. I love it. “You probably say that to all the girls,” I taunt even though he’s already told me he doesn’t.
His palms grip my ass hard to the point of pain as he urges me to fuck him. “Only you,” he reminds me as his mouth attacks my throat. I grind against him desperately. One of his hands slips between us and the moment his fingers brush against my clit, I whimper.
“Feel how good we are together?” he questions, his voice a demanding rumble.
“Y-Yes.”
“I’m going to fill you the fuck up, teacup. Fill you with my cum. You want that because you’re a nasty girl, aren’t you?” He nips at my throat and I clench around him. His hiss tells me all I need to know. I clench again.
“Yes,” I moan. “So nasty. I like when you make me dirty.”
“Tonight I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to sit down when you go meet your friends tomorrow. What do you think about that?”
I rock against him, my thighs quivering with anticipation of my nearing orgasm. “I want that. They’ll be jealous that I’m getting fucked so good by someone as hot as you.”
“I’ll probably fuck you before you leave too. I want my cum running down your thighs. Every time you walk, you’ll have a sticky reminder of me,” he snarls against my flesh.
“Yes,” I cry out, my orgasm so close.
He gives my clit a squeeze with just enough pressure that has me tipping over the edge. Light explodes around me as I shudder in his grip. His hips thrust hard from beneath me the moment my body has weakened too much to keep up my pace.
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his hot breath on my throat.
Fiery heat rushes deep inside of me as his cock throbs. It’s intense and carnal and I love it. I’m addicted to Anthony Blakely. It’s an addiction I’ll never quit.
When my heart rate slows down, I pull away to look at him. He has that lazy grin on his lips, but his eyes twinkle with awe, as though he can’t believe I’m sitting on his lap with his cock buried inside me. I can hardly believe it either. At any moment, I expect to wake from this delicious fantasy.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, my lips ghosting over his.
“I don’t want to ever leave.”
Anthony
I wake to lips on my chest. It takes a minute to realize I’m in Stephanie’s bed and it’s her mouth that’s kissing down my abs toward my cock. The fucker must have woken long before I did because it’s already hard and awake in her grip. I squint against the early morning sun as I tangle my fingers in her messy hair.
“Come here, teacup.”
She lifts her head and smiles at me. Her eyes are sleepy and her makeup has been scrubbed away. Right now, with her disheveled hair hanging around her face and her perky tits naked, she seems so young. It’s crazy to me that she’s lived this entire life without me in it. But not anymore.
“I was giving you a wakeup call,” she murmurs as she straddles my hips. I admire the curves of her hips and run my palms down her sides in appreciation.
“My dick likes your mouth, but it much prefers being buried inside your tight little body.”
She laughs as she slides her wet pussy against my throbbing cock. “Sounds like your dick has a mind of his own.”
“You better sit on him before you hurt his feelings,” I say, a grin tugging at my lips.
She bites on her bottom lip, a wicked gleam in her eyes, as she continues to rub her naked body against mine. Each time I try to lift my hips to enter her, she slides away.
“Fucking tease,” I taunt.
“I like teasing you.”
“Keep it up and I’ll take what I want.”
Her brows lift. “Oh, you think so, huh?”
“Five.”
She smirks. “Four.”
“Smartass. Three.”
She moans when I attempt to push inside of her but manages to slip away again.
“Two, teacup.”
“One,” she breathes.
I don’t let her finish the word before I flip her onto her back. She squeals when I drive into her with one forceful thrust. Her fingernails claw the shit out of my shoulders and I grit my te
eth against the pain.
“I told you not to test me.” I bite her jaw and then her lip as I fuck her so hard I think she might cry. “Now you’re getting punished.”
She runs her fingers into my hair and grips it. “Maybe I like getting punished.”
I attack her pouty mouth with such vigor that I’m sure I’ll bruise her. The thoughts of putting purple marks all over her body to keep the likes of dickheads like Damien and Dr. Morgan away from her has my heart thundering in my chest.
“You can’t handle my punishments,” I groan against her mouth.
“Then you must not be good at doling them out because I can handle anything you throw my way.”
In all my years I’ve been fucking chicks, I’ve never felt confident to fully let loose. Most women are my age and not particularly that experimental. I look at Tumblr way too much to be satisfied with plain vanilla sex. Steph is practically begging me to do what I want.
I slide my hand to her throat and let her feel the strength in my hand. Her breath hitches against my lips, but she doesn’t tell me no. I squeeze her neck and revel in the way her cunt clenches around my cock. She fucking loves this.
“So goddamned dirty,” I praise, my grip tightening.
Her face begins turning from red to purple. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I start to release her throat, but her hand finds my wrist, encouraging me. I lock back down on my grip and slam into her hard. Her breath comes out in raspy hisses.
“You like not having to be in charge,” I utter, my voice a low taunt. “You want me to take charge of this perfect body and own it. Don’t you?”
She tries to nod, but my grip is too tight. I loosen it and kiss her swollen lips softly.
“Right, teacup?”
“Yessss.”
“You’re going to let me fuck your ass one day,” I tell her.
“Whatever you want.”
“Good girl.”
I release her neck and grip her jaw, forcing her mouth open wide. Pushing two of my fingers past her lips, I fuck her mouth as I fuck her cunt. She sucks on my fingers as she would on my cock and it has me overwhelmed with the need to come.
