Page 45 of Sideline Play

Twinging my fingers around her loose braid and using it to better expose her neck to me, I answer noncommittally, “Somethin’ like that.” I seal my lips around her pulse and suck until her back arches under me. “Though I doubt anything in your books will top the surprise I had when I saw your little collection titled, ‘Breeding Kink.’ Or when you called me Daddy.”

Running her fingers up my Henley and tugging it over my head, she drops it on the ground and causes me to hiss when her tongue circles my nipples before her teeth nibble.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Was what happened in the shower not proof enough?”

Giggling as her hips rise to meet the thrusting roll of mine, the sound dies off into a moan as my covered cock kisses her covered clit. Repeating the action and groaning into the crook of her neck as she chases after me, I press my lips against her skin, kissing my way across to her mouth, saying, “No baby girl, I don’t think it’s weird; I like it. I like it so much that when I would jerk off thinking of you, it almost always ended with me picturing you locking your legs around me to keep me and my cum inside of you. And knowing you get off on fantasies about getting pregnant has me wanting to fuck you into this couch until it becomes reality. The Daddy thing is just an added bonus I didn’t know I needed.”

“Fuck,” she pants, tightening her legs and rubbing her pussy over me. “Remi, please.”

“Not yet, baby. But soon,” I promise, plunging my tongue into her mouth, fucking her to the rythm of my humping.

In the days since she first kissed me, my girl has proven to be a quick study. She matches each touch, lick, and twine of my tongue with her own. Her hands are bold as they wander my body, petting, stroking, and caressing the lines and planes of my muscles. Her fingers daring as they dance and toy along the waistband of my sweatpants, dipping in but not quite reaching for my dick just yet. Parts of her remain shy and in need of coaxing, but the proof of how much she trusts me is evident in how freely she’s beginning to express and claim her desire, in how she’s relinquishing her initial need for control, surrendering herself to my guide.

Moving my hands to her hips, I start pushing her sweater up to expose her tight, trim stomach. Hit as suddenly as I was with the realization I’m in love with her, the image of her stomach round, breasts heavy, hips flared, barrels into me.

I’m a man possessed by the fantasy of seeing it through, to will the vision into existence. I want to rut into her as deep as I can until I’m coming against her cervix, filling her with my seed. Claiming her as mine from the inside out. Removing all questions about who she belongs to, who loves her, and who satisfies each and every one of her secretly filthy whims.

I break away from her mouth only long enough to rip the sweater over her head and leave it somewhere on the deck forgotten. Returning to her, I map the curves of her body with my hands, my teeth gently pulling at her puffy bottom lip. When it comes free, our foreheads touch, heavy breaths mingling between as her arms cling to me by threading under mine and up the back of my shoulders, the press of her bare breasts to my chest exquisite.

“Fuck baby, I lo–” I nearly confess, stopping myself by hooking her thigh higher up my hip and instead saying, “I’m close,” uncaring of the fact that at thirty years old I’m about to come from simply dry humping my girlfriend.

Stretching so her hips push more firmly against my own, her back arching off the couch, neck long and inviting my tongue to lick, she breathlessly encourages, “On me. Come on me; please.”

Quickly kissing her, I sweep my hand down the center of her chest, the need to play with her nipples and palm the small swells fading as I make my way to her stomach. Stopping to spread my hand over her abdomen, I kiss her temple as she watches me through hooded eyes.

“You’ll look so beautiful stretching to grow our baby,” I whisper reverently.

“Our baby,” she either confirms or asks. Regardless, I respond, “Yeah Scarlet, our baby—mybaby,” and I reach for the panties I desperately want to tear away from her cunt but show restraint by opting to slowly peel them down.

The moment I start to remove them however, her body tenses and her hand shoots out to stop me, nails digging into the inside of my wrist.

Just as quickly, she loosens her hold but doesn’t yet let me go, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I don’t, I don’t know why that happened. I like this. I want this, I don’t?—”

“Shh… it’s okay,” I soothe, already checking how secure her leg is around me with my free hand. “We’ll just change position. Don’t worry. Ready?”

As soon as she nods her head and the prying hold she has on me releases, I grip her other hip, locking both legs around my waist. Then with her clinging on to me, I rotate us so I’m on my back with her on top before sitting up so she’s wrapped around me and in my lap.

Unhooking her legs, Scarlet shifts to her knees, the earlier tension receding.

“Better?”

“I think so,” she tentatively answers. Giving several experimental rocks along my cock, she nods and brings my hand back to her panties, prompting, “Try again.”

I watch her intently as I hook my finger on the side and begin to peel the delicate fabric away from her wet pussy. As I hook it on the other side leaving her exposed but with her panties still on, the last of her tension melts away, a relieved sigh blowing free.

“See, baby girl? We’ve got this. It’s just a patience game. We’ll learn together.”

Nodding her head again, her thighs beginning to squeeze me, she repeats, “We’ve got this.” Then reaching behind her, she leverages her weight and grinds along my cock, her breasts and puckered nipples displayed for my eyes as she fully brings us back into the moment by whimpering, “I want to feel you come on my pussy.”

Snaking an arm around her lower back and pressing her into me, I thrust up as I growl, “Whose pussy?”

“Daddy’s pussy.”

“Good girl. It is my pussy,” I praise before nipping her neck in warning. “And don’t forget that. Now take out Daddy’s cock.”

“Oh God,” she moans, eagerly reaching for my waistband.

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