Page 24 of My First and Only Crush

I wonder how he’d like to hear me say things now that he’s had his release. He got all growly before, but maybe…

“I still want you to fuck me,” I breathe.

He groans.

Lifts his head.

Pours another river of champagne down the other breast, and licks it up, all the way up, until he’s sucking that point to an aching peak.

“I need you inside me,” I pant.

He goes still.

Presses his head to my belly this time.

And slowly, achingly slow, he drags the bottle of champagne down my torso until it catches on the waistband of the small scrap of black cotton still covering my pussy.

“That’s close, pet.” He drags in a rough breath and lifts his gaze to meet mine. “But it’s not going to be fucking. What do you want Daddy to do to you?”

I lick my lips. “I want you to make love to me,” I whisper.

He nods. “It’s going to be different for us.” He pulls the bottle closer to himself again, and the cotton pulls down with it, revealing the sparse blonde hairs covering my mound.

I whimper and rock my hips up, my clit almost close enough to the bottom edge of the bottle…but not quite. “Please…”

“What you and me have isn’t like fooling around with boys.” He replaces the bottle with his fingers, holding my panties down, revealing just the top of my slit, where my clit is hidden, but throbbing. “What we are going to do tonight will make you forget anything else.”

The bottle tips, the heavy cool glass pressing gently across my hip, and his mouth follows the stream, sucking up the champagne from my skin, my curls, and then, oh God, ohGod, my pussy.

His tongue snakes between my lips and finds my clit. It’s a wet, firm, slick intrusion that catches me by surprise. My hands fly to his head, my fingers sinking into his hair, like if I don’t hold on to him as he lays these exploratory licks at the top of my sex I might fly away and not experience the full whatever-is-coming-next of this.

My impossible dream of a crush, the man I’ve watched work next to my father my whole life, has his face buried between my legs, promising me I’ll forget all others.

But there hasn’t been anyone else. Ever.

“Trick…Trick…” I tug on his hair. “Daddy!”

He lifts his head immediately. “Please don’t ask me to stop.”

“Never stop.” I squirm, wiggling my hips. “Will it feel even better with my panties off?”

He licks his lips. “Are you a horny girl who likes to be spread open?”

“I don’t know.” I squirm again, desperate for his mouth to get back on me. “Nobody’s ever done this before.”

Fiery anger blazes in his eyes. “What sort of selfish fuckers have you been with?”

I sink into the pillows, suddenly feeling silly. “Nobody,” I whisper. “You’re my first everything.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t want that before.”

“Oh, pet.” His pupils dilate, white hot now, and he reaches out to shove the champagne onto the bedside table. Then he takes the flute from my hand, his calloused fingers raising sparks where they brush against my softer ones.

He’s gone so serious and silent that I’m afraid he’s going to say we have to stop. I feel silly for having said anything—maybe he wouldn’t have noticed that I’m inexperienced once we got going.

I managed to give him a good blowjob, didn’t I?

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