Page 4 of Just in January

My eyes grow wider than saucers as I spin and button up my fly and adjust myself.Fuck.There’sno way she missed my hard on sticking like a flagpole out of my pants.

Hurrying to the door between the kitchen and dining room, I pause and tap on the doorframe with my thumb. I don’t mean for it to, but it comes out really rough when I spit out, “And noboys.”

Shaking my head, I try to make it upstairs while my aching erection throbs against the metal of my jeans. Why’d I sayno boys? If she had boys over, then it would be less of a distraction for me. I’d hope.

This is not how I thought this month would go. I figured I’d get some young ski punk up here and teach him carpentry, someplumbing. Then we’d get one of the local old ladies to plan a party.

Instead, I got Miss Perky Princess with a perfectly pliable body and perfumed pussy just waiting for me down the hall. How am I going to stay the fuck away from her?

When I make it to my bedroom, I slam the door closed and rip open my fly. As I pull down the waistband of my boxers, my heavy cock bobs out as if sayingthank you,and I grip it like I’m mad at it. Because I am. Why can’t I get control of this thing?

Tugging myself for some relief, I imagine the snowflake’s tiny tits in my mouth, her wet virgin cunt wrapped around my dick as I rip into her flesh with seven years of pent up lust. But it’s not just her beautiful face or body that consumes me now. All I can hear is her saying, “Mr. Grant,” over and over in that bright voice with her broad smile.

Picturing her blue eyes widening as I plunge inside her while she says, “Mr. Grant…Daddy…”makes me growl loudly and spew all over my hands and onto the floor. The orgasm rips through my loins so violently, I almost fall to my knees, but slam my palm against the wall to keep me steady.

But it’s all of no use. Instead of some respite from the surging lust, I’m still half-hard. And ready to pop a full one as soon as the little vixen comes near, I’m sure. This may not work out.

Fortunately, for the rest of the afternoon, I’m able to hide in the upstairs bathrooms and clear drains, replace toilets, and tear out some old fixtures. My earbuds are in, so I can try to listen to an audiobook about boring things.Nothingto do with barely legal girls that work for me.

Despite the noise in my ears, I hear my stomach growl when it gets near dinner time and the smells of beef and bread hit my nose. My mouth waters at such aromas. It’s been a long time since I had a good home-cooked meal. But I don’t expect much from my new hire.

Taking my time in the shower to jerk one off again, I get myself to about only a fourth full. Not flaccid, but hopefully nothing that January will notice when I have to see her in the kitchen. I take my time to style my unruly mane somewhat, noticing more grays along the temple and in my beard. Maybe I should go into town for a haircut and trim. My fingers pinch the top of my nose as I sigh. I’m trying to impress her. The young, beautiful girl downstairs. I’m an ogre. An oaf. I couldn’t even pull something like that when I played football in high school, let alone now.

When I emerge from my bedroom wearing a clean Henley and pair of jeans, my mouth waters as I approach the kitchen. A lilting melody floats through the crack in the swinging door. She’ssinging. And my heart clenches as I remember Kimberley doing that very thing when she’d bake cookies during the holidays.

Pressing my hands to the door, it opens up and a feast for two lies on the small kitchen table. A basket of rolls, short ribs with carrots under some type of glaze, fancy looking mashed potatoes, and pie.

“Wow.”

She relinquishes a loud scream and jumps three feet into the air. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Grant! I mean, Justin! I didn’t see you!”

Her tits bounce under the Crystal Frond T-shirt she wears, and with her hair up in a ponytail, she looks even younger. And, sure enough, my cock rebounds to its full stature. I’m so fucked.

Trying to gain some of her composure, she points to the table. “I-is this okay? Does it look good? I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but didn’t want to disturb you, either, so I just sort of found things in the freezer back there, and I?—”

“This is perfect. Really. Better food than I’ve seen in years. Thank you.” Stammering, she stands near one chair as I take a seat at the head of the table. “Sit, sit and eat.” At my first biteof the ribs, I almost come in my pants, but slyly reach down and grip the tip. “Holy fuck! This is amazing.”

Her face lights up brightly as she takes the chair near me. “Yeah? I can change things, if you need. I thought…” She stuffs some mashed potatoes in and pauses.

“Thought what?”

Pursing her pink lips, she considers her answer carefully. “Thought you could use amenu, you know? Like what exactly to make on which day. For the guests. And the party, of course.”

My brow furrows. “Party?”

She blinks rapidly while gazing into my eyes. It’s enough for me to almost toss all the plates onto the floor and ravage her cunt here on the table. “Aren’t you having a grand re-opening party?”

“Oh.” Taking a bite of the other dishes, I moan in approval. “I suppose that would be best. It’s just not my thing.”

Bouncing in her chair like a kid, she claps her hands together. “Ilivefor coordinating parties! Let me do it!”

Pretending that my groan is from the food and not from watching her utter excitement, I cough back some carrots and grab a drink of water. “Then have at it. I’ll hand it all over to you. Even the catering andmenus.”

Her fingers reach over to latch onto my forearm with some affection. But her touch sends shockwaves through my blood, straight to my groin. My hips lift off my chair, but I somehow stop myself from pillaging her. She pulls her hand back quickly. Probably thinking I’m offended. Really, I just want that grip of hers lower on my body. And I can’t imagine what her touch would feel like everywhere on me. Those parted lips on mine.

“Um, thank you, Justin.”

I hurriedly eat so I can get back to my room to take care of my leaking cock. As I think about tossing my napkin down and running away, she blinks at me and asks, “I found a set of cakemolds, but they’re on the top cabinet shelf. I can’t find a step stool…”

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