Page 11 of DILF

That hits me hard. She’s right. I’m the one that fucked up here, not her. I should’ve restrained myself, had some self-control. Instead, I let my cock do the thinking and now here we are—she’s about to burst into tears. She takes off running to her house before I have a chance to apologize.

Just fucking great!

5

LINC

I can still smell her on me.

My cock is so hard it could cut glass. I have never wanted anyone as much as I wanted her. To taste her. To fuck her. To hold her down and make her come over and over and show her how real men fuck. Not those douchebags she teases with her short little skirts and tight tops.

I have to go inside and deal with Charlotte, but I can’t do it with the sweet, erotic smell of her best friend on me. I open the front door, and it’s silent. Charlie must be asleep. I take two steps at a time up the stairs and into my room, going straight into the bathroom. Quickly, I strip and jump into the shower, making sure to leave it cold—painfully cold. But my cock isn’t getting even a little soft. I fist it hard with one hand, and I lean the other palm against the cold tile. Her wet pussy, the way she opened her thighs, the way her wet cunt dripped down her asshole, the way my two fingers would probably struggle to get inside of her cunt, the way my dick would feel when I replaced my fingers with it. The way her face contorted into a surprised kind of ecstasy as she came…

I grunt as an orgasm hits me hard, sending cum shooting onto the tile and all over my fist. Just thinking about her was enough to get me off quickly. Two orgasms in less than an hour. That’s the first time in twenty years. I rinse off with more cold water hoping that my cock will settle down, but knowing that it likely won’t, not with the image of Lily’s spread pussy seared in my brain. I’ve always had a strong sexual appetite. Mia, my ex-wife, hated it, and I spent too many hours jerking off in the bathroom while we’d been married. Since the divorce, I hadn’t had to seek comfort with my own hand very often, since there’d been more than plenty of willing women to help me out, except for tonight. Tonight, there was only one woman I wanted, and I’m not even sure if “woman” is the right term for the eighteen-year-old cock-tease.

Luckily, by the time I get out of the shower, the situation is more manageable. After I get dressed, I head to go find Charlotte. We need to talk. The underage drinking has got to stop, that’s first on the agenda. Second, she has to come to terms with her dad being a single man who should be dating. I don’t need permission, and she’s going to have to get used to it. I’d been keeping the dates a secret, but I’m not going to do that anymore. Last, I’m tired of her mouthing off about Randy and the weekend trip. I want peace and quiet back in my house. I want sweet little Charlotte back, the one that looked at me as though I hung the moon.

I knock, and when there’s no answer, I open the door to her room and notice that her bed is still made. “Charlotte? Charlie?” I look around. “Charlie!” I bellow. Nothing. “Damn it!” I find my phone and dial, but it goes straight to voicemail. I dial again and nothing. I send her a text. Where the hell are you? Get yourself home. Now.

Still, there’s no answer.

What if she’s hurt? What if something happened to her? What if that fucking twat Randy got in a wreck? I wait ten minutes, try her number again, and when there’s still no answer I begin to pace. She’s my little girl. If something happened to her, I don’t know what I’d do.

Without bothering to close the front door, I stalk next door. Maybe Lily knows. I don’t even want to look at her. I’m ashamed of what we did tonight…of everything. It was beyond inappropriate. I’m twenty-two years older than her, for Christ’s sake.

I knock on the door and wait until the porch lights turn on. “Linc?” Her father opens the door, half-asleep, Marie hovering behind him. “I’m sorry to wake you but…”

“Are you serious?” I hear Lily say from the staircase. She must think I’m here to tell them about her shenanigans tonight at the bar.

“I need to talk to Lily. Charlotte isn’t home and she’s not answering her phone. I was hoping Lily could—”

“Oh no,” Marie says. “That’s not like Charlie.”

“I know,” I say, running my palm down my face.

Lily walks forward with her hand on her hip. She’s changed to her pajamas, which again consists of a threadbare tank top and short shorts. I can see her nipples. Again.

“She’s probably just out with Randy. Relax,” she says in that I-don’t-have-a-problem-in-the-world way that pisses me off.

“Can you excuse us for a moment?” I ask her parents.

“Yes. We’re going back to bed. Let me know when she calls, okay?” she says to Lily.

Once her parents leave, I pull her outside. “Do not tell me to relax.”

“Why not? She’s fine.”

“How do you know? She could be in a ditch somewhere.”

Her hand is on her waist and she rolls her eyes. Damn it, every time she rolls her eyes I get the urge to bend her over and spank her. Make her stop sassing me. “She’s not in a ditch,” she says.

“Okay, so tell me where the hell she is.”

“Can’t do that,” she says.

I put both of my hands on her shoulders and am this close to shaking her. “What the fuck does that mean, you can’t?” I know I’m growling, but I want to yell. All the tension of the night is choking me.

“She’s my best friend. Her feelings are hurt. She’s mad. I’m not going to tell her father where she is. But I will tell you that she’s okay.”

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