Page 9 of Pretend I'm Yours
Sorry again, Boyd.
Leaving my truck parked at the bar, crossing my fingers that it’ll still have all four tires when I return in the morning to pick it up, I order a ride.
* * *
I mutter a curse under my breath when I make it home. Corinneis sprawled out on the couch on her back, wearing only a too-short T-shirt, one bare leg straight, her other knee bent and fallen open to the side. My mood sinks even lower when I see she’s watched a full season of our show without me, and I move to pick up the remote to turn off the TV, but then think better of it. The last thing she needs is to potentially wake up as my smelly ass transfers her to her room.
Heading into my bathroom, my mind is stuck on the thought of crawling on top of Corinne and slowly pulling her panties to the side so I can thrust intomy wifewhile she’s asleep, leaving her to wake up with my cum buried deep inside her. It’s a shameful dark fantasy I shared with Kason one late night spent hanging out in my room at our apartment, though, of course, Corinne hadn’t been on my radar at the time.
Kason and I had accidentally fallen asleep, as we’d done often enough, and I’d woken with my dick hard and grinding against his, surprised by how big his cock was, even at half-mast, while he was dreaming. I had cum in my shorts within seconds while staring at my best friend’s beard and plush, parted lips, then flipped over and pretended I was still asleep when he started to stir. Thank the heavens he never found out, because I don’t know how I would have explained to him what came over me. I can’t even explain it to myself.
Taking a cold shower does nothing to kill my boner, but at least it washes away most of my buzz and makes me hop out lightning quick so I don’t end up stroking myself. I sigh and send up another apology to Boyd—it seems that’s all I do—when I make it back to the living room. By the light of the TV, I can see well enough the soft and inviting roundness of Corinne’s lower belly since she’s thrown an arm up over her face in her sleep, her T-shirt riding higher on her thighs.
If I lost the last shred of my control and did crawl on top of her, would she even put up a fight? Or would she bat those longlashes at me and beg me to make her cum? Or better yet, would she pretend she was still asleep, as I’d done so long ago, and let me live out my dark fantasy?
Fuck. Before I know it, I’m leaning over her, one hand flat to the wall behind the couch with my face close enough to the V of my niece’s thighs to breathe in her feminine scent. With my resolve crumbling, I shove my hand in my shorts, shivering when I begin stroking my dick. If it weren’t for her sudden shift in her sleep, snapping me out of my insanity, there’s no telling what my depraved soul would have done when I was this close to cumming.
“Hmm?” Corinne startles when I slide my hands under her, lifting her off the couch.
I bite my tongue to hold back a moan at the caress of her naked skin against mine since I hadn’t pulled on a T-shirt like I most definitely should have.
“Shh, sugar. I’m just moving you to your bed.” Carrying her down the hall, I pause at my open bedroom door, thinking of how simple it would be to give in and take her into my room…which also happened to be her dad’s and her grandfather’s before that. The reminder keeps me moving.
“Uncle Declan?” she asks, squinting in the dark.
“Yeah, it’s me.”UncleDeclan.Uncle. It’s important I remember what that title represents, the boundaries that it should create between us, even if my cock refuses to care.
She smacks her lips when I step into her room, painted in creams and blues. “How was your date with Angelina?”
Ahh, so that was her name.
“She was wearing tennis shoes.” I lower Corinne onto her queen-sized mattress on the left side of the messy room, also dutifully ignoring her overflowing laundry hamper and the sexy, lacy red bra thrown on top.
Corinne puffs out a sleepy, singular laugh. “So she’s not ‘the one’.”
“No one is ‘the one’.” I can’t seem to make my muscles cooperate, willing myself to slide my hands out from under her, prolonging contact instead. “I told you, I’m too old and cranky to keep dating.”
“Don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she says, her voice raspy. “Not when you have a perfectly good wife waiting for you at home.”
“Corinne…” I say in warning.
“Yeah, yeah.” She does me the terrible favor of rolling over out of my arms and onto her side, gathering her fuzzy blue body pillow to her chest, propping her top leg over it, back to sleep in seconds.
I’m bowled over by the sight of the thin, tantalizing strip of black fabric splitting her full asscheeks. Of course, the first thing my sick mind whispers is that she’s in an even better position now if I wanted to take her in her sleep.
“If you were my wife, sugar,” I say in a deep but quiet rumble, “I’d replace this thong of yours with my cock, snuggled up inside my woman all night long. I’d fuck a baby into you, and you wouldn’t even know it until you woke up with my cum sticking to your thighs.”
Several beats pass without a reaction from Corinne, and I do it, the most awful thing I’ve ever done—I crook my left index finger under the thin strip of fabric, lift it from between her cheeks, and slide my hand down until the back of my knuckle rubs her bare pussy lips from behind, parting them. Without so much as a twitch from her, I use my middle finger to toy with her entrance, trying to hold back from doing anything worse. But she’s hot and wet, her pussy ripe for the taking. And I do it. I do, I do, I do. I sink my middle finger into her and wait, breathing heavy as my precum wets my shorts. It’s still not enough, and Iback out and push deeper, curling my finger when I withdraw as her pussy walls contract.
I’ve really lost control of myself when I brace a knee on her mattress and push my shorts down, freeing my heavy cock. I could easily do what I really want with her while she’s asleep—slide into bed behind her after prepping her pussy with a second and then third finger, then fill her with my cock if I go slow enough. It’s so fucking hot to think about that I pull my finger out of her, strangle my dick as I stroke it from root to tip so I can gather my precum, then sink my finger back inside her.
Oh god. Now she really has a part of me inside her. It’s so much better and worse than just my finger. It’s my essence.
Corinne’s breath hitches when I try to push a second finger inside her, and with the arch of her back, she subtly hikes her knee higher on her pillow, giving me a better view of that heavenly place that’s calling me home.
I can’t tell if she’s still asleep, merely shifting, or if she’s pretending. Either way, I startle at how reprehensibly far I’ve already gone when this is so wrong, and I yank my hand away before rushing out of her bedroom. I can’t let anything remotely like this happen again, this disgusting display of predation on my sweet, innocent niece, who should be safe with me. For her, I realize, it’s just a crush on the man who’s always loved her. For me, it’s enough to send me to the fiery pits of hell, tortured for all of eternity, as I deserve.
Back in my bed, I furiously beat my dick until I’m on the cusp of cumming, then twist my white sheets in my hands and gnash my teeth together with the idea that I can Pavlov’s Dog this madness over my best friend’s daughter out of my system if every time I think of her, I’m reminded of the pain I’m in now. Because, so far, nothing else has worked, and I’m desperate for a solution.
