Page 99 of Plaything

I felt like a dog in heat today, desperately wanting to be touched by anything. I entirely blamed PMS. After years of never being horny, it was like I had years worth of pent-up hormones begging to be unleashed. “I like this,” I moaned shyly, moving my hips without the help of his hands.

Wyatt’s eyes darkened, “Yeah?” Asked with false sympathy. “You like riding my thigh, Baby?”

Pulsing with need, I nodded eagerly. I’d been on edge since this morning, wanting nothing more than to cum.

“Slowly,” he instructed, his hands slowing my hips. He lifted my skirt over my hips, allowing his greedy eyes to watch. “How could I not be jealous of any man that looks at you?” He muttered absentmindedly.

To stabilize myself, I gripped his shoulders. I was drenched, embarrassingly leaving a wet spot on his tan slacks. Whimpers and moans left my lips in a blur as I lost myself in pleasure.

“That’s it, keep fucking yourself off against my thigh,” he rasped as his hands ran over my ass and thighs. “You’re soaking wet, Baby. I can feel you through my pants,” he moaned.

My thighs squeezed around his as my movements became shorter. “Wyatt,” I whined as I began to feel my orgasm take over.

He took control of my hips, pulling me harder down onto him and slowly back and forth, “That’s my good girl,” he cooed. “Cum for me, Baby. I’ve got you,” he comforted.

Plunging to my release, I fell into ecstasy. Wyatt’s hand covered my mouth as I moaned into it. “Shh, I know,” he hushed, holding me to him.

Every nerve in me shattered as I came. I rested my head against his shoulder, trying to collect myself. His big hand was rubbing my back in long, soothing strokes. I could stay here forever...

“Is your head okay?” He questioned.

I remembered my unfortunate head bonk and pulled away from him. “I didn’t hit it hard,” I assured him. The pain was long gone. I leaned my elbows against his shoulders and grinned at him. “Hey,” I started. “As attractive as I find jealousy, it was Aiden,” I hinted. I just didn’t want him to wonder about another guy.

Wyatt chuckled before tilting his head back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he joked before grinning back down at me. “When was this?” he inquired.

I shrugged, “I’ve had a busy day.” Deciding I wouldn’t continue to monopolize his office hours, I stood up to take my leave. Remembering the mess we made, I looked at his pants, “I’m hoping you have an extra pair?”

Wyatt leaned back, grabbing a backpack from the corner of the room. “I’m notorious for coffee spills,” he assured, making me feel less guilty about his pants.

“I’ll see you at home,” I smiled at him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, just like he did the first time he touched me.

Why would my answer ever be no after any kind of tutoring session? I nodded, “Besides the slip’n slide between my legs and the need for a nap, I’m perfectly fine,” I assured, still finding his question odd and unnecessary.

He relaxed in his chair, returning my smile. “Don’t burn the house down.”

After I’d successfully made a delicious noodle salad and placed it in the fridge for later, it was time for a much-needed nap. I was worn out from the day’s activities. My period was in full swing with cramps and and back aches. Perfect timing, considering what a slut I’d been all day.

Cat was quick to curl up next to me on the couch. The room was just how I liked it, dimly lit and heated by the ongoing fire. The only things missing were the four people I’d come to crave the presence of.

Gentle purring against my ribs lulled me into a gentle sleep.

My eyes opened, but only barely. For many minutes, as I walked, the world around me was made up of familiar shapes and patterns as I walked through the house. As much as I tried to, my motor control was on autopilot, and I was too tired to fight against it.

The halls seemed to last for miles. For every twenty steps I took, I only moved the length of one. No matter how fast I tried to run or walk, I seemed to be at a set speed.

My eyes would only fully open every few seconds, revealing Dad’s door. I wasn’t allowed in his wing of the house, and I didn’t want to be there either. Despite that, I opened the unlocked door anyway. I’d never been in this part of the house and kept running into walls and furniture as I walked. I had no destination, no thoughts at all. I was simply walking.

“Is that your daughter, Charles?” a man said, his voice echoing like a dream.

There was an echoed shuffling before Dad made a displeased sound. “Odette, what are you doing out of bed?” I couldn’t answer. “Odette...” he sighed. “I’m sorry, she sleepwalks from time to time.”

“She’s asleep?” The man asked.

“Yes. Excuse me, I’ll get her back to bed so we can continue discussing—”

“Nonsense. I don’t mind her being here. How old is she now? Fifteen?”

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