Page 86 of Masks and Mishaps

She pries my fingers out of her mouth—hell, out of her throat. “I want to come,” she says, speaking scratchily through spit-slick lips.

“Then beg for my dick,” I reply, smirking even though she can’t see me.

Essie’s jaw drops, and she looks like she would bite my face off if not for my mask. Just to piss her off, I pull everything out of her—cock and fingers.

“Daddy!”

“Beg,” I order. “Show me how much you need me.”

“Give me your cock back,” she whimpers sweetly as she reaches for me. “Please.”

“Tell me you need it. Tell me you need me.”

And then Essie, a girl who has never neededanybody, looks up at my masked face, and says, “I think I’ll die if I can’t feel you fucking every inch of me, Daddy.”

Everything. She’s gettingeverythingshe wants.

My fingers are messy with lube and her arousal, but she doesn’t stop me when I place my palm flat on her stomach. “Here. Right here. Look at it.”

Then I notch my cock back into her pussy and surge forward, being deliberate with my stroke.

There it is—I see it. Ifeelit. The curve of my cockhead presses through her skin against the palm of my hand, protruding through her little belly. When I take my hand away, we both see the bulge of my cock emerge against the unmarred expanse of her skin, like a wave of me buried inside her.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs, pulling her lips into an O as she appreciates her own body,

I’ve filled all the spaces, every inch she has to offer, and it’s the closest I’ve ever been to hating what we have. There was a time when I dreamt about all-consuming and no-holds barred intimacy like this, but I ruled out the possibility quickly.

This is…I’m not even sure what to say about this—abouther. All I know is I hate it. I hate it—I really hate it—because I’ve never liked sex until now, I don’t think. Fucking has never felt so damn fleeting until this moment when I sheath myself inside a woman whose existence has unwound the tenuous threads keeping all my mess from spilling out.

I hate this because I love this.

My next stroke nearly kills me—my finest bulge yet. My brain finally goes to the thing I’ve embargoed, to the perfectly agonizing thought of coming inside Essie and breeding her. Instead of seeing my cock moving inside her, I see her stomach swell and grow, not with cock, but with our baby—the family we’re never going to have.

It’s almost funny how oblivious Essie is to what I’m enduring behind my mask. She’s so unbelievablyhappyright now—the same joyful expression she wore when she made a killing at the bank today. Eyes alight and lips separated, she pulls herself into my lap and ruins me for all other women. She’s too short to reach my face in this position, but she’s the perfect height for my chest. Her lips wrap around my nipple and suck desperately, sending a pang of pleasure I didn’t even know my body was capable of experiencing.

She sucks my nipple even more ravenously, and I can hear the telltale chime of the tips on the laptop. That chime spurs me to tilt my hips and give her more of my cock—and she’s in tune enough to feel the change in my pace.

“Don’t come yet,” she nearly begs.

“I won’t.”

“Please don’t.” Her voice wavers. “I’m not there yet. I want to finish together—”

“Baby,” I catch her face with my free hand and clench her jaw. “I’m not going to come until you do. Do you get it? I’m going to take care of everything.”

Eyes watery with need, Essie nods.

I work my fingers back into her ready pussy, wedging them in alongside my cock. I hook them against the soft spot at her entrance, hedging my bets to find her g-spot, but it’s not difficult with Essie. Her climax bursts forth like sunlight weaving through the gaps in the clouds, and she’s squirting, drenching my cock and fingers and body—and I could bathe in it.

“Get your cum on my cock. I love it when you gush all over me,” I coax. “You look so good when you’re soaked in your own cum.”

But Essie barely hears me. Her eyes are shut tight, and her lips are back on my nipple, lapping at it like she’s self-soothing. We’re both so goddamn wet now, and if I weren’t wearing a mask, I’d want it on my face. I’d make her lick it off my cheeks and spit it into my mouth.

The pressure builds against the tight walls of her pussy holding me in, squeezing me. “Drain my cock, baby,” I say through clenched teeth.

She listens. She tightens around me, and I come so hard that the sinews of my muscles ache while I fill her.

Fuck it. I’m grateful for the mask. There’s no way my face could bear anything other than dread.

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