Page 71 of Sideline Play

Bending down to kiss me, he nips at my lip as he praises, “Good girl.” Straightening up and letting me go, he begins to walk backward towards the living room, adding, “Oh, and baby—crawl for Daddy.” He sits down in the leather armchair, dick proudly on display and waiting for me. “Naked.”

Eagerly stepping out of my sneakers and stripping off my clothes, I sink back to my knees, stretching my hands out infront of me. Then with a soft slope in my spine, I slowly slink forward, following his path, my entire body coming alive with anticipation. As I reach him, a pillow drops to the floor between his legs with a muted thump, my heart melting at my fiancé’s tenderness. Kneeling on the pillow, I look up at him, my giddy excitement hardly contained.

Pointing a finger to the ground, he moves it in a lazy circle, boredly saying, “Show me.”

Scrambling to comply, I turn around and bend forward, until I feel his hands on the cheeks of my butt. Spreading me open, he murmurs, “Stunning,” tapping the jeweled heart of the plug I’ve been wearing all afternoon. Then hooking his fingers around it, he begins to slowly fuck my ass with the plug, making my thighs clench and tremble as my already damp pussy starts to leak.

Just as my breath quickens and I begin to push back on the plug, he stops, tugging on the end of my hair. Quickly turning back around, I lean into his palm as he cups my cheek and drags his thumb along my bottom lip.

“One day, I’m going to fuck you here,” he promises, pushing his finger into my mouth and allowing me to suck for just a moment. Then moving down between my thighs, he continues, “then here,” shallowly interesting a finger into my pussy before reaching further back to tap my plug again and finishing, “and finally here, filling each of your pretty little holes with my cum.”

“Yes, please,” I practically moan, unconsciously drifting forward for his finger, his cock, anything.

“You really are so desperate for it aren’t you, baby girl?”

Nodding as my eyes drift to the rivulets of pre-cum sliding down his shaft, he chuckles, “Go ahead, Scar. Suck my cock.”

I show zero restraint as I bypass teasing and building Remi up in favor of licking him clean. Following the beads of pre-cum up to his head, I seal my mouth around him and at the feel of its weight on my tongue, give a deep moan as I start to suck.Hollowing my cheeks as I pull on him, his hand fists through my hair, pulling and guiding as his hips drive up and force more of his length into my mouth.

Swirling my tongue along his shaft, I salivate for him. Ropes of drool leak from the corners of my mouth. Each one keeps me connected to him as he pulls me off to stare into my eyes. Giving him a dreamy smile, he wipes his thumb along my chin before lowering my head back to his dick, this time feeding me even more.

As his head reaches for the back of my throat, I gag, fingers digging into his thighs as I remain careful to not squeeze.

“You look so pretty, choking on my cock, Scar.” Pulling out his phone, he grips my chin and says, “Pretty as a picture,” tapping the screen before putting it back in his pocket, murmuring, “For road stretches next season.”

Knowing his camera roll is filled with explicit pictures of me being used by him excites me. It’s filthy, depraved, dangerous, yet I love it. I don’t know what that says about me, or him for that matter, but I don’t care.

The feel of his hands through my hair as he uses me to find his pleasure. His hips rising up to meet every downward thrust of my head. The smooth glide of his cock across my tongue as he pushes for my throat. And in my hands the weight of his sac as I massage his balls, gently pulling and twisting to further plunge him into me.

Sucking even harder as I feel his balls start to rise, Remington groans and swears, his words long and guttural as he forces his hips and my mouth to meet. With his cock thrusting so far down my throat, I have to breathe slowly and carefully, the balance of taking him so deeply precarious. Even relaxed as I am, more saliva pools in my mouth and drips free until I’m having to swallow around him to help control it.

“FUUUUCK!” he shouts, working my head on him just a bit longer and harder before he’s yanking me off and hauling me into his lap, sinking me down on his cock, the both of us letting out moaning grunts as he fills me.

“Ride my cock, baby girl. Make us come.”

My response is breathy and nonverbal as I use his shoulders for leverage. Lifting up and letting gravity sink me back down with hard, deep thrusts, I roll and grind, dragging the swollen little bundle of nerves between my thighs across him. Behind me, Remi takes my plug and begins pushing it in and out of me opposite to when I fill my pussy with him.

Everything is wet and slick, my arousal from sucking him loud in the air. Panting breaths, short grunts, long moans, quick gasps, slapping skin. We’re an erotic symphony as I ride him faster and faster, my deep bounces onto him forgotten in favor of rushing towards release.

I can feel my release coming low in my belly. My muscles growing taut, heat pooling between my legs and at the base of my spine, heart galloping. It’s right there, my cunt clenching around him as my ass grips the plug.

“That’s it, Scarlet.. Be a good girl for Daddy and soak my cock.”

And that’s it. I scream, “YES!” falling forward into his arms as I hump and grind, riding out my orgasm, the feeling of his cum flooding my pussy as he presses down on my hips, driving his cum as far inside me as he can, making me moan his name into the crook of his shoulder as I suck and lick at his sweaty skin, soothing myself down from my high.

Pulling my plug free, Remi starts to massage the back of my thighs, up to the muscles of my butt and along my back, before gently caressing my throat. With a kiss to the crown of my head, he continues to touch and soothe my body while quietly washingme in praise and endearments, lulling me into an afternoon nap wrapped up in him.

THIRTY-ONE

REMINGTON

“Scar?”

“In the kitchen!”

“Shit…” I mutter, looking down at Winnie. “Why’d you leave your mamma alone in the kitchen? Do you not remember what she did to my Le Creuset? And the Caraway pan before that?”

Whining and hanging her head, I scratch between her ears and soothe, “It’s okay, sweet girl. I’ll eat yours for you. She’s tryin’ and we don’t want to hurt her feelings. But I promise, I’ll be sure there’s prepped meals in the fridge for y’all whenever I’m on the road without you.”

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