Trapped with My Best Friend’s Dad by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Ten

Roman

“Are you telling me you’re not going to be able to take this cock?” I growl.

It’s all I can say. The pressure in me has become too much, my cock pulsing with uncontrollable lust. The tip of my dick is on fire with sensation, as though giving me a preview of what it’s going to be like when I come inside that tight young hole.

The way she shivered when I finger-fucked her against the bed, it’s driving me wild.

And now she’s sitting there, hair messy, face all pouty, telling me she’s a virgin. The beast inside of me howls in celebration. My balls are heavier, hungrier. My seed writhes.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,”I roar, and she cringes and gasps, leaning back. “Just get those tits out and get those hands working. We’ll talk about this after. Now, Rayla.”

She whimpers like the horny thing she is like she knows she should be offended by how much of a prick I’m being, but she’s too needy and excited to pretend. She moves and pulls at the front of her robe, pulling it aside, showing me her copious tits.

Oh, those tits…

They spill free like promises, her flesh creamy, with thick juicy veins moving across the vast round surface. She’s so curvy, so full, and I can’t stop myself from reaching down and grabbing her tits.

“Horny fucking virgin,” I snarl, bringing my mouth to her breast.

I imagine squeezing her big breasts together until milk starts to leak from her nipples, and then smearing the milk all over the fleshy globes until they glimmer in the storm light.

I suck on one until it becomes perky in my mouth, hardening beautifully, and then move to the other.

She moans, goading me. The horny virgin knows what she’s going.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” I growl, looking up at her. “Has anybody ever sucked these tits before?”

Shyness skitters across her face, her teeth automatically biting her lip. She looks so fuckable, like she’s waiting for me to drive my cock into her shy little mouth until she has no choice but to suck and gag.

“I’ve never done anything,” she whispers. “With any boy. Ever.”

“Nothing?” I snarl.

“Nothing. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not fucking bad. It’s perfect. You’re… Fuck, jerk this dick, Rayla. Make me come all over those big juicy tits. I can’t think – I can’t talk – when you’ve got those perfect juicy breasts out for me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Get my dick out and rub it,”I growl, and she shivers again.

“Okay, yes.”

“Good girl. I like it when you do what you’re told.”

She grabs the front of my pants and pulls my cock out, gasping when the massive length springs free and bobs weightily. She grips it at the base and strokes, moving up and down, shifting her whole arm so her breasts jiggle and dance for me. My curvy horny perfect virgin.

Mine.

Forever.

And I’ll kill anybody who tries to take her.

“Is that okay?” she moans.

“That’s it, that’s it,” I growl, my cock throbbing with the sensation.

She moves faster and grips my base harder, and then time does something funny. It shifts and dances and bends until I have no idea how long she’s been rubbing me. All I can focus on is the feeling of her hand, heaven-hot against my shaft, and all I can do is stare down at her breasts bouncing for me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I snarl.

Hot come squirts out of my swollen head and covers her breasts, so much of it gushing out, like my seed is so hungry to get inside of her it’s sending everything I have.

“Now rub them together. Make them glisten for me.”

She does as she’s told, and I stand, staring wide-eyed down at her. I’ve just covered her breasts with more come than I’ve ever produced, and yet my body is already roaring out for more. My length is already getting hard again.

“Are you sure you can’t take it?” I snarl.

She nods. “I’m sorry. It’s so fast. And you’re so big, and… do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” I kneel, so we’re eye level, and reach out and stroke my hand across her face. “This makes me want you even more. Rayla, my Rayla – I don’t think you understand.”

She stares, her lips shuddering, as blue bolts zigzag across the window lighting up the room.

“I’m claiming you. Right now. You fucking belong to me. The second I laid eyes on that curvy body, the second I saw you, something triggered inside of me. I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense, but there’s a pain, a pain…”

“A pain that won’t leave you,” she whispers, when I trail off, unable to contain the atavistic possessiveness that whelms inside of me. “It’s the pain of not taking the chance.”

A smirk touches my lips when she completes the quote. “You’ve read my work.”

“I wish you’d write more.”

“Is that a taunt?”

“No, I just think you’re an amazing writer.”

“This is my chance,” I growl. “Claiming you. Taking you. I need to fuck that young fertile virgin body until you’re pregnant, and then start a family with you. That’s what I need. I can’t explain it.”

“I feel the same.” She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve had thoughts… silly thoughts, crazy thoughts—”

“Like having a family with me?”

“Yes. Yes. How did you know?”

“Because I can read you…”

Suddenly her cell phone rings from the bedside table, a Kesha song playing. And a memory strikes me – the same song playing in the living room a few weeks ago when Millie was visiting. She has her own apartment. She’s very independent. But every now and then she comes to check on her old man.

“It’s Millie, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

All the life has drained from Rayla’s face, as reality slams into us.

Everything we just said, everything we just shared, it’s wrong, it’s a downright fucking betrayal.

“The ringtone. I know Millie likes to use different ringtones for different people, and she’s made me change mine too. Johnny Cash. A Boy Named Sue. It was one of her favorite songs growing up, believe it or not. She heard it on the radio one day and fell in love with it.”

My voice is hollow, dread surging through me, as I think about what we just did – when I think about what I still feel, the iron certainty that Rayla is mine. But she can’t be. She already belongs to my daughter, as her best friend, the friend she’s been waiting years to meet.

She was never close with anybody in high school. She was like me when I was a kid, her head in books, dedicated to her writing. We would sit side by side and write as she grew up, but she never had a best friend.

Until Rayla.

And I’ve just ruined that.

“I’m guessing she’s done the same with you.” My voice is dead, but I want to roar. “Has she?”

Rayla nods, her eyes wide like she’s just seen a ghost. Horror is moving through her with the same speed and ferocity it moves through me.

“She’s probably just checking in. I should answer it,” she murmurs.

I step away, suddenly feeling foolish with my dick out. Even now I’m rock solid, my manhood swelling, as I stare down at those luscious delicious creamy tits.

Turning away, I pull up my pants and head for the door. “I’m going to check on Tanker. I should’ve heard him barking, but sometimes it’s good… it’s just good to make sure he’s doing okay.”

She knows what I’m doing, making an excuse to leave, so I don’t have to listen to that Kesha song and everything it implies.

Striding down the hallway, I rearrange my manhood, the helm sticky with come, a physical reminder of how wrong this was.

As I round the corner, I hear Rayla’s voice, quiet against the backdrop of the storm. The rain hasn’t stopped hammering, drumming against the roof and the windows, like any second the whole cabin could come crashing down. But this is a well-built structure, and it can withstand way more than this.

But how much can I withstand? Can I pretend to resist her now, when I’ve already tasted her?

“Hey, Millie,” she says. “What’s up?”