Page 31 of Tryst

I take a seat next to Alex on the loveseat and watch Mom pull Dad down next to her on the couch. I’m pretty sure she mumbles, “Behave.”

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twenty one

ALEJANDRO

“Forty-two, George,” I respond, my tone firm but noncombative, “And now you’re also wondering why someone my age is with Isabella. And am I just some rich guy taking advantage of your little girl?”

George doesn’t answer, but the look on his face speaks volumes.

“We just have some, um…concerns,” Julie looks between me and Isabella. “I can get over the age difference. Hell, I dated a guy twenty years older than me before I married your father.”

“You what?” George sits up straight and stares at his wife, leaving me fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

“You know about James,” she responds to him and returns her attention to the two of us. “You only broke up with Ian a couple of weeks ago. I’m happy you aren’t sitting around moping over him, but why the rush for the two of you to get married. You obviously just met.”

“Dad has told me since I was little that he knew on your first date that he was going to marry you,” Isabella looks back at her mom. Squeezing my hand she turns her attention to me, “I know it’s crazy. We both do. But we know.”

Over dinner, a few drinks, and several hours of heartfelt conversation, I think I can safely say that George no longer wants to murder me. I can’t quite say he’s excited to have me as a son-in-law, but reluctantly agreeing to a few months’ long engagement seemed to at least be making a step in the right direction.

“Next weekend,” Julie hugs me goodbye, “You’ll come to our place for dinner?”

George firmly shakes my hand before hugging Isabella goodbye. His words a mixture of sincerity and being in jest, “Are you sure you aren’t pregnant?”

“Jesus, Dad,” she jokingly shoves him into the elevator, “Bye.”

“Not yet anyway,” I smirk, whispering into her ear just as the elevator doors close. Ignoring my comment, she begins walking back into the living room.

“That went better than I thought,” she walks to the windows before turning back to face me.

“I’m rich and charming,” I smile back at her as she fidgets with the buckle on her dress, “And I make you happy. Of course, they’d like me.”

“And to think,” she pulls the buckle on her dress, and it draws open down the front before she drops it to the ground, “I just like you for your huge cock.”

“Fuck,cerecita,” my cock grows uncomfortably confined in my pants at the sight of her. The dress pooled around her tall black heels, her thick thighs, and that tiny, lacy, black teddy barely containing her curves.

“I’m pretty sure you said something about fulfilling my fantasies and tearing this off me,” she smirks at me, before turning and strutting her beautiful ass closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“First,” I untuck my shirt and begin slowly undoing the buttons of my shirt, “Spread those legs for me. Show me how you touch your pussy and get it nice and wet for me.”

Without hesitation, she widens her stance and slides her fingers underneath the lace. Removing my shirt as I walk toward her, I can see her fingers working through the sheer fabric. Reaching her, I undo my belt and pull it from my pants before dropping it to the floor.

“Are you thinking about my cock again?” I palm the throbbing bulge in my pants as I stand inches from her.

“Yes,” she moans.

“And how it’s going to stretch out your cunt?” My free hand rubs against the lace over her hand rubbing her clit.

“No,” her hips grind against her hand.

“Tell me,” I demand, gripping her jaw and pulling her face up to mine.

“How…you’d…feel,” her words slow and breathy, “sliding…over…my tongue.”

“Rub your clit,cerecita.Bring yourself to the edge,” I tilt her face to my hand stroking my cock through my pants, “But don’t come, and I’ll let you suck my cock."

Her hips grind harder against her hand, with a neediness I have yet to see from her, “I’ll let you swallow every inch of me down your throat.”

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