Page 39 of Castaway Whirlwind
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Russell
Layla is a deep sleeper. I would know after carrying her into her apartment more times than I can count since she’s always falling asleep in my truck when I get to drive her around. I watch her now in the warm glow of the stove light, her breasts soft and spread to the sides, nearly spilling from the triangles of her nightgown after she rolls over onto her back, her chest rising and falling slowly.
Maybe my little darlin’ has a little exhibition streak, or else she would have put on something less revealing than the nightgown I gave her, only having pulled her comforter up to her waist instead of covering her upper body when she knew I’d be watching her while she slept. Maybe pushing my hand under her uniform that first time was something she wouldn’t have minded had she known.
No. I’m being delusional, my brain trying to ease the guilt of my monstrous behavior.
I’m used to the long hours of sitting outside Layla’s apartment at night, keeping watch, but my mind keeps drifting to the book she’d hidden beneath her pillow while her cheeks turned pink. I’m beyond curious what’s so bad about the book that she doesn’t want me to read it.Now’s the time to find out.
I stand and lay my gun on my seat, barrel pointed towardthe door, and hold my breath when I get to her side. I carefully brace a hand on the bed since she’s scooted to the farthest side, and I reach under her pillow.
Of course, once I’m close enough that her breath feathers across my skin, her sweet face turned toward me, I don’t stop like I should. I brace a knee on the mattress next, dropping my upper body lower so I can kiss her forehead. Tipping her chin up a fraction, I let our lips brush the barest amount. It’s not a kiss. Not a real one. No, when we share a real kiss, it’ll be when she’s awake. When her eyes are open and soft for me. When she’s given me her heart.
I know it’s really time to stop when I skim my nose in a line from her chin to the hollow of her throat, knocking her teddy bear to the side so I can press the lightest of kisses down her chest to the valley of her breasts. I breathe in her scent while sliding the book out from under her pillow.
Go! Leave! Now!I shout at myself when I drop the book over the edge of the bed so I can pinch the left side of her nightgown and pull the triangle away. My first impulse when I bare her tiny pink nipple is to nip the bud between my teeth. But I don’t think that’s what she’d want…if she ever indeed wanted my mouth on her breast. I think she’d want gentle. Sensual, not just sexual. So, I lick it once, then again when it hardens.
My dick aches fiercely when I roll my tongue around her bud, then take it into my mouth so I can sip from it with the gentlest of pressure. “Wake up, darlin’. Stop me,” I whisper.
Enough, Russell. You’ve had your taste. Now go!
I find the will to do so, kissing the tip one more time before drawing the material back over her breast. But then her right breast taunts me, begging for the attention its twin has already received. In order to do that, I’d have to climb on top of her,though, and I can’t, not with my weight. I’d crush her small frame.
My dick leaks precum at the thought, and I’m its subject, doing as I’m told, letting it lead me down the path to sin by shifting my weight onto the mattress, which dips and jostles her for a heart-stopping moment. When she doesn’t wake, I drag the comforter down to her ankles, then swing a knee over her body to straddle her thighs.
I shudder once I have her beneath me, my cock oversensitized even though I haven’t touched it yet. For a few long minutes, I simply stare at her. How small she is compared to me. How comforted and at peace she is in my presence.
“You’re so beautiful, Layla. Look what you do to me.” I push my sweatpants down to free my cock, stroking it nearly to completion before I force myself to let go. I’m not ready to cum yet.
Pinching the material of her nightgown, I drag it to the side of her right breast. As gentle and slow as I was with her left, I take her bud in my mouth. This time is different since I’m on top of her instead of beside her, and I can take more of her breast in this position. I moan around her nipple and even go so far as to cup it, which I’ve never done before. I was right—it fits perfectly within my palm as if my hand was made to hold her.
If I had Layla in my bed every night, I think I would love to fall asleep with her in my mouth like this. How soothing that would be to wake up with the taste and pressure of her breast on my tongue. I get too excited by the fantasy, too enthusiastic when I draw her nipple deeper with more powerful suction, my chin and beard scraping the underside of her breast, that she shifts in her sleep with the softest of whimpers.
I pull my mouth and hand away and lift my weight off her thighs, but I don’t move off the bed. I wait to see how she’s going to react since I’ve already been caught red-handed, and there’s no walking back my actions with any kind of reasonable explanation.
“Daddy,” Layla whispers drowsily, her eyes remaining closed, and she fumbles with pushing her fingers into my hair. I’ve never experienced anything more wonderful than the simple, exquisite indulgence of her nails lightly scraping my scalp. Not even masturbating comes close. “Are you coming to bed now?”
Though my throat is dry, I manage to answer, “Yeah, darlin’, I am.”
“Mmm. Good,” she murmurs, circling her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, hugging me like she does her teddy bear with my cheek to her chest. When she tries to shift a leg to get more comfortable, I quickly lift a knee, then the other, unbelievably now kneeling between my darlin’s spread thighs.
I press my luck by skating my hand along her left leg, flipping the hem of her nightgown up. She rewards me by drawing her knee to my side. So, I do the same with her right leg and am rewarded again.
“Such a good girl, darlin’, spreading your pretty thighs wider for me.”
She loosens her arms around me, pushing without any strength behind it on my shoulders. At first, I think she’s pushing me away after what I said, knowing I should have kept my mouth shut. But then she asks, “Can I have another kiss goodnight?”
“Really?” My heart thumps.She wants a kiss goodnight from her Daddy.
“Mmhmm.” She wiggles her hips, pushing more firmly until I finally relent. She sighs, her lashes hardly fluttering when I drag my weight off her, and her hands go to the bottom of her nightgown, working it up to the nip of her waist.
My dick grows impossibly more rigid, thicker when it clicks. I rest my palm on her belly and ask, “Is this where you want Daddy to kiss you?” I scoot back farther until I can kiss her just below her belly button. Her stomach is flat but soft when I nuzzle my nose in it. I span my hand across her hips, cradling her the way I would if her stomach were round and firm with our child.
“Lower, Daddy.”
“Darlin’,” I moan, grinding my cock against the mattress when I get to the juncture of her thighs, clean cotton panties covering her pussy, damp on my lips. “My little darlin’.”
