Lestat’s Wife

Você está aos amassos com Leon no meio de um dia onde vocês dois tem um compromisso muito importante, portanto não podem se atrasar de jeito nenhum — ele na polícia de Racomm City, você como a principal designada a mandar e desmandar nos casos e missões dele — porém dentro de casa as coisas são... Um pouquinho mais diferente, mais turvas, onde a ordem e a submissão tomam outros contornos... Enfim, ele já está todo animado, duríssimo por debaixo da calça, cheira a banho tomado e perfume amadeirado, uma coisa quente que te remete a picancia e âmbar, cheirando seu pescoço com seu nariz perfeito, apertando sua cintura enquanto muito manhoso pede:

— Vamos lá, é só um pouquinho...

— Não Leon! Já te falei — você tenta afastar ele porém ao mesmo tempo cede com os beijos do homem no seu pescoço. Sente o desejo dele te atingir com tudo, a pressão do pau dele contra suas pernas é impossível de não notar. Leon sorri sacana, te encara com um charme debochado, jocoso que brinca entre os lábios rosados e o olhar lascívio, murmura rouco:

— Não é o que me parece... — A mão que antes estava na cintura desliza para baixo, entra com facilidade dentro da saia, pressiona contra seu grelinho que aflinge com o toque dos dedos dele: — Tão molhadinha por mim. É só uma metidinha, de juro que nem vou enfiar, só quero esfregar bem aqui... — Os indicador e o anelar pressionam contra seu clitóris, você arfa e amolece, ali contra a parede da sala do apartamento que vocês dividem. O mundo ao redor se torna uma redoma de vidro embaçado e quente entre vocês dois.

É impossível negar algo quando aquela face de anjo e atitude de demônio do Leon Kennedy lhe atinge.

Seus olhos flutuam para o relógio do seu pulso: vocês teriam exatos quinze minutos para sair de casa e chegarem no local que ficava do outro lado da cidade. Leon percebe a sua hesitação, enfiando de novo a cabeça no seu pescoço enquanto os dedos pressionam contra seu grelo. Você geme:

— Que se foda! Seja rápido, senão iremos atrasar mais do que já estamos...

— Eu sabia que você não iria resistir. — Leon é metido porém não mente. Você nunca resiste a ele. Com aquele desespero suas bocas se encontram e o beijo parece ficar mais molhado, ele te ergue em seus braços e te sustenta até o sofá, o lugar mais próximo. Sem cerimônias, a sua blusa de botões está aberta o suficiente para que ele possa mamar nos bicos dos seus seios sensíveis, a pressão da língua indo e vindo te fazendo molhar mais ainda, buscar por meio de ondulações o próprio pau dele.

— Leon... Porra, anda logo.

— Calma meu amor, apressadinha demais você — fala meio abafado, não escondendo o sorrisinho sacana que brinca em seus lábios. Ele dessfivela o cinto, abre o zíper e puxa a cueca boxer preta para baixo — o pau duro, grande e generosamente grosso, de cabecinha rosadinha, melada já com o pré-gozo salta para fora. Você que assiste a cena sente a boca encher-se d'água. Com maestria ele desliza sua calcinha até o final das suas pernas, levanta um pouco a saia lhe dando uma visão da sua buceta molhada para ele. Sorri e morde o lábio inferior, bombando o próprio pau. Deita-se por cima de você, a cabecinha roçando contra sua fenda.

— Molhadinha e quentinha para mim, do jeito que eu gosto...— Geme rouco. Esfrega contra seu grelinho, a pressão da cabecinha macia e ao mesmo tempo firme te faz arrepiar e sentir as ondas do tesão. Ele praticamente começa a bater uma siririca em você com o próprio pau, segurando a base do mesmo com uma mão enquanto a outra sustenta o corpo massivo. Leon geme, molhando-se em você:

— Porra amor, se você deixasse eu enfiar só a cabecinha...

— Leon é que vamos atrasar — você choraminga já se agarrando nele sentindo o tecido macio da sua blusa contra suas mãos. Ele desliza o pau para sua entrada, vacila, finge que vai enfiar. Fica nessa tortura, indo e vindo, metendo contra seu próprio grelo. Vocês gemem, se encaram, é inevitável não querer ser fodida por ele o resto do dia. Para aplacar aquele tesão todo você o agarra pelos cabelos macios e o puxa para um beijo.

Um deslize e...

— Oh! Leon! Seu cachorro!

Você geme ao mesmo tempo que dá uma bronca. O homem está completamente dentro de você, pulsando em sua rigidez suave, te preenche tão perfeitamente que não há como não querer ele ali. Seus olhos se encontram após estalarem os lábios daquele beijo, Leon sorri safado, remexe o quadril para frente, se enfiando mais ainda em você antes de sair de leve; e voltar de novo.

— Opa! É que escorregou!

Vocês riem.

Talvez teriam que ter uma conversa com seus superiores sobre algum tipo de imprevisto que os fizeram atrasar mais de uma hora para o serviço.

you finally arrived to your house, the shift you took almost killed you.

as you sit yourself on the living’s sofa, your mom went there to tell you that one of your dad’s old time friend was coming here.

LEON KENNEDY was quite a figure for the most part of you life because of the long-time friendship he had with your dad. you haven’t seen him too much since you were fifteen, when he decided to move to another city to presude a job.

but even if you haven’t had a sight of him, you heard everything about it. and i mean everything.

your father’s late-nights talks with him resolved in a lot of gossip for the next morning; his job and how hard was for him, how many cities he had visited in the spear of one year but mostly that he’s now divorced from his wife.

his divorce was nothing new to you. from childhood you recoil that him and his wife had ceased to be a dream-match many many years ago. they never had children or even wanted to and although on the outside they had been labeled as an ‘eccentric couple’ your family knew how much it cost that man to get out of that circle of endless apologies.

it was midnight when a knock on the door knocking! sound alerted everyone.

your father rushed to it and greeted the man with a big hug and greetings that could be heard all the way to the living room. when your father returned to the living room, you expected to find a broken man—especially knowing what had happened.

but no, it was quite the opposite.

and there he was. you wouldn't have guessed he was in fact older than your dad. his hair was still somewhat blond, even with several gray strands, and had a beard that wasn't very prominent but still visible.

his body was robust and he had several marks on his arms—his big arms.

this wasn't the leon you remembered, or perhaps your mind was too intoxicated to comprehend the enormous presence standing in front of you. the weirdest part of the whole meeting was that he didn't really recognize you at first. now, don't get me wrong—it wasn't like those older folks who just forget faces; it’s just that he still had that mental picture of you as a fifteen-year-old.

once it clicked that it was you, he almost passed out. leon felt sick just by seeing you after such amount of time, his gaze went up and down on-going for a little two minutes before your dad spoke to break the silence between you both.

“so, i hope you still remember my daughter,” he said, hugging you from your shoulders.

“yeah, i do remember her.” leon responded.

but you couldn't stop looking at him curiously—did he really remember you? if he did, you were nervous because you didn't want him to see you as that fifteen-year-old girl who behaved like a brat to catch his attention.

leon on the other hand was screwed, so-fucking bad. if he had imagined that you had grown up to be one of the most beautiful women he had seen since his divorce, he would haven’t even come to visit so unprepared.

internally he was biting the flesh of his cheek so as not to flirt with you in front of your father or he would kill him but, ohmygod. it was hard.

the night passed too slowly for both of your own and his liking. a ong time ago you both had lost the battle of who was eating the other more with their gaze, gratefully your father was too distracted to see how his best friend looked at you with every slight movement.

the birthday cake passed by the table as well as several glasses of champagne between everyone, and even so, the eldest's blue eyes did not leave your presence. they were staring even more than before.

you had to bail yourself from there. as you excused and retire from the table while mumbling some half-baked-lie about needing some quote on qoute fresh air, but your parents knew you were just heading to the house’s balcony to smoke out your nerves. honestly, work has been such a dumpster fire lately that nicotine is the only thing keeping you from a total villain arc.

as you swiped your diy-pack of malboros you made and save for a post-shift treat, finally had the courage to step out the living room.

slumping into one of those cheap patio chairs, you tried to breath properly but your own brain was already doing gymnastics over leon.

like, what’s his actual fucking deal with all of this bullshit looking? because the way his eyes were on you felt almost like he was yearning, or straight-up thinking with his dick—you couldn’t really tell.

part of you just wondered if he’s just lowkey bitter and sexually frustrated post-divorce, but that’s not nearly close. leon is, well.. leon fucking kennedy; the man probably has a whole waiting list of women in his DMs. why would he be wasting his time staring down a girl as young as you?.

yeah you were spiraling over and over again.

mid-inhale and you were already feeling quite delusional about it, that’s when a hand landed on your left shoulder.

a heavy, calloused and firm grab. the second its fingers hit, your entire body felt nervous and started to glitch. stomach on going with a series of internalized backflips. you knew who it was.

“those things will kill you, y’know.” leon said.

his voice was low, whispery like. it wasn’t like the way boys usually talked to you, he remained steady and patient.

you took a long, quite saky drag and finally exhaling the smoke into the crips night air, glancing timidly at him. “since when you’re my doctor, mister kennedy? i’m pretty sure the stress of this whole party is going to killl me before this.” you add while mocking him.

leon let out a huff hat was almost a laugh, his thumb grazing the line of your collarbone just for seconds before he pulled his hand away from you, leaning against the railing next to her.

he looked expensive—the kind of expense that came with a decade of seniority and a soul-crushing divorce settlement: his sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that had no business looking that good.

“fair point,” he conceded. his eyes already going up and down scanning you, making you feel literally small on his behalve.“but you’re too young to be this cynical. leave the slow burnout to people my age.”

“so that’s what the divorce thing left you,” you added, teasing him looking more bolder than before.

leon tilded his head slowly, a knowing smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. “i think i’ve still got a little spark left ... though i suppose that depends on who’s asking.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the blunt from between your knuckles, giving it a try. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“you’ve been staring at me all night,” but so did him. “care to tell me why, or am i going to have to play the guess game with you?.”

your heart was doing backflips constanly. “oh. well let me tell you sir, i wasn’t the only one doing it.”

leon just stepped a fraction closer, invading your personal space in such way you felt how your lungs tighten more and more.

“don't stay out here too long, sweetheart. it’s getting cold.”

however, you didn't make him wait too long; without thinking twice, you took that cigarette from his fingers, threw it away and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him to your mouth and kissing him with such intensity that several soft whimpers escaped him between kisses.

and he didn’t refuse it, not at all. leon moved you and him to a corner hidden from everyone else’s sight by a wall, his mouth kissing yours with such hunger, his tongue making its way inside it.

“fuck doll, your dad is going to cut my head off.” he whimpered, biting your lower lip with his front teeth.

leon’s palms moved up and down on your waist, trying to keep you as close to him, lips running and trailing upstairs your neck and drawing muffled moans from you. you had to cover your mouth with your right hand—you felt dirty just from feeling your underwear begin to dampen from the slightest touch of his beard against your skin.

“mister kennedy,” you whispered.

“call me leon. princess.”

“leon, leon please.” you barely responded.

when suddenly, another voice appeared. “sweetheart, is leon with you?,” you dad asked—his voice sounding tender and worried. fuck! fuck!.

even so, leon never stopped. those wet, lawd and noisy kisses on your skin didn't want to leave for a second.

on the inside you just wanted to hit that man and answer your father properly—but you couldn't. your voice was too weak from all the moans you stifled in your throat.

“sweetheart?” another call.

“answer him, sweetheart,” he mocked.

a thread hanging from your voice, letting out a short gasp before you could even respond.

“y—yeah dad, leon is, mgh. s—smoking with me..”

after hearing your father's footsteps fading away, leon wasted no time and placed one of his legs between yours, opening them without any shame. "i'm not finished with you," he murmured simply before guiding you to his knee and indicating that you should move your hips against it.

the material of his pants were too rough, but he could still feel the moisture of your panties soaking into them. several grunts escaped his lips. he felt dirty for having you like this—shit … you were his best friend's daughter! and all he could think about was how adorable you would look taking him.

“just like that, angel. you don’t have to rush..” leon’s voice echoed into your ears. “i can feel how giddy you seem down there, s’goddamn good to me.”

he just kept grunting at your sight, his cock was arching inside his pants begging for a release of some kind but tonight he just wanted to please you, but he had to be quick before your dad starts to questioning where you both are again.

he moved his leg away from your core, causing you to let out a weak whimper from the lack of contact. slowly, he lifted the edges of your dress so he could see what he was about to enter.

from his perspective, your body was pressed against the same wall that had held you up just moments before, your legs trembling slightly, your eyes glistening with tears of pleasure and your gaze fixed on him—nonetheless there wasn't even a trace of shyness in your eyes, only a desperate need for him to devour the overwhelming desire you'd been harboring since your first glances that night.

when the sound of his belt unfastening caught your ears, you unconsciously arched your body, breasts pressed even harder against the cold wall, your ass in the air, perfectly positioned to make his mouth water at the sight of you like this, so damnedly surrendered to him.

"you're going to be the death of me, princess," he murmured softly, cupping your face for a few seconds and kissing you wildly. his pants already undone, your panties pulled by the side and when he barely lowered his boxers to let his cock go—and damn, it was big.

but not a normal amount, it was bigger tha the ones you saw before, its tip glistening slightly with the pre-cum that coated it and with such size on it that would surely make your hips ache the next day.

“ow baby, don’t get too scared, we’ll make it fit,” leon purred, aligning the tip of his cock between your wet and slippery folds, fake-thrusting on them, coating his length with your juices. the instant his cock forced its way between your rubbery and gummy walls you had to bite your lower lip to avoid making a sound. amid silent curses, the blonde man grabbed your hips and began thrusting without any mercy, digging his fingers into the flesh of your womb like an animal in heat.

“ohmygod!, mister kennedy..”

a sharp smack echoed on the balcony, now your ass bearing the mark of leon’s bare hand against your sensitive skin, your ass getting redder. without stopping his thrusts, he let go of one side of your waist and guided his middle and ring finger inside your mouth—inserting them roughly, gaining a gagging sound from you.

“gonna fill you up, baby,” he mumbled near your ear lobe, licking and biting it in between each thrust, your pussy making lawd sounds with each one, a constant plap! sweep! sound bursting into the night. “’m going to fill this little cunt until you can’t handle anymore, you’re gonna walk inside the house full of cum.”

“leon, mgh! i—can’t. they, m—my dad, he might..”

“he won’t hear us if you keep your pretty mouth closed,” leon grunted, growling under his breath. his lower abdomen started to feel hotter than before, his lunges inside your pussy became rougher.

when your walls began to tighten around his length, fucking shit, leon swears he literally saw stars appear before him.

“this greedy cunt is taking me s’well, mind if i gave her what she needs? bet she’s gonna look so pretty with cum all over her,” he spoke and its way was so dirty you felt an enormous arousal hugging your whole body.

with a chocked and gaggy moan you came all over his cock, coating the entire length with your juices—from its base to the tip. you claimed that dick as yours.

leon had his orgasm a few minutes after yours, painting your walls with his semen, his seed now claiming its place inside you like some type of thropy.

after leon had barely cleaned you up and arranged your clothes, as well as his own, they went inside, greeted by your father—who quickly chided them for taking too long to finish their cigarettes.

however, the glances you both gave eachother concealed a certain complicity. suddenly you brushed leon's shoulder with your fingers, giving him another mischievous look before going to get a glass of beer.

he just smiled, hoping your father would invite him to sleep over so he could have his way with you again against the mirror in your room because he couldn't stop himself.

Your friend Sarah pulls open the door, a grimace that forces itself into a smile once she recognizes you. 

“Hey, come on in.” She widens the door and lets you step inside the house before closing and locking it behind you. “Hopefully we can sneak past my dad without hearing another shouting match.”

Your brows pinch together as she turns to lead you down the hall to her room. “Everything okay?”

“Kinda.” You watch her shoulders shrug. “My mom is asking for more money since my little brother is staying with her while going to college.”

“Hasn’t he been doing that for a couple of years now?” You cringe, hoping you didn’t overstep. 

She laughs half-heartedly. “Yeah, which is why my dad is so pissed off. He was yelling into his phone when I snuck by to answer the door.”

Sarah nods at the open door of her dad’s office. She tiptoes past and you follow her lead. You peek in as you walk by, catching a glimpse of Mr. Kennedy hanging his head into his hands from where he’s propped his elbows up onto his desk. Heart twinging with empathy, you frown to yourself. Not to think rudely of Sarah’s mom, but she’s always been bitchy—from screeching about you two leaving scuff marks from kicking off your shoes at the front door to playing music too loud in Sarah’s room. 

You’re not surprised that she’s trying to finagle more money from Mr. Kennedy; he’s always had a decent paying job, enough to take care of his kids and live comfortably while also giving his ex-wife enough to pay for her own place. She’s always off gallivanting with some rich guy, but now it sounds like she’s in between boyfriends so Mr. Kennedy is having to deal with her money issues. 

All of these thoughts buzz through your brain by the time you and Sarah walk into her room. She collapses down onto her bed with a groan, then flips over onto her back. 

“I was hoping he would go out this weekend, so I could invite Josh over.” She blows out a breath before turning her head to look at you. “He could bring one of his friends over, so you’d have someone to hang out with.”

You wave her off as you collapse down into the bean bag chair she’s had since her eighth birthday. “Eh, last time that didn’t work out so well.”

She raises up and hugs a pillow to her chest while crossing her legs. “Steve was nice. Just kind of boring.”

“Boring? I’m pretty sure he even put Josh to sleep.” You roll your eyes. “Besides what’s to stop you from going out with Josh anyways?”

She flattens her expression before pointing at the door. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe my uptight dad?”

She tosses the pillow at you when you laugh.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You throw her pillow back to her. “Well, since I’m here, you could sneak out. I’ll cover for you. You know he never bothers us when we do our sleepovers.”

“Maybe.” She purses her lips in thought. “We’re not teenagers anymore, so do you really think he’ll fall for that?”

You shrug. “I think so. I know we haven’t really done a sleepover since going off to college and stuff, but we’ve never done anything like it before. So why would he suspect anything different?”

She smiles brightly. “You’re right! Let me text Josh and tell him to park down the street. I’ll just slip out the window and you can cover for me if dad asks.”

You laugh. “Alright, but you owe me one.”

“I’ll take you to lunch tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Sarah climbs out of her window and gives a small wave as she sneaks out of the yard onto the sidewalk. You lose sight of her as she rounds the corner, and you close the window softly making sure not to latch it. Glancing at your phone, you see it’s just now seven, leaving you with hours to occupy yourself before your friend makes it back from her date.

Deciding to grab some snacks and just veg out in front of Sarah’s tv, you leave her room and head to the kitchen. Nearing Mr. Kennedy’s office, you hear him arguing with someone. More than likely his ex-wife, you think, but you don’t want to assume. You slow down to eavesdrop, finding it hard to pass up the opportunity to be nosy.

“No, I’m not. I can’t help if you’re behind on your car payment. You traded in the one I gave you in the divorce. The one that was paid for. You brought it on yourself. No, no—STOP.”

Your heart rabbits in your chest with the sudden change in his tone. 

“Now, listen here,” he growls out, and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle your gasp. “I am done with this conversation. You will take what I’ve already given you, and you won’t get one penny more. If our son needs help, HE can reach out, not you. Am I making myself clear? Goodbye.”

Your palms are sweaty. You’ve never heard Mr. Kennedy speak in this way, and it’s way hotter than it has any right to be. Waiting for a few minutes, you slowly step past the doorframe. Crossing your fingers, you hope he doesn’t notice you. 

“Oh, hi there, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were visiting.” 

You mentally accept defeat when he calls out to you, but you also notice that he has dropped his strict tone for something more warm and inviting.

“Hi, Mr. Kennedy.” You smile at him, stepping into his office. “Yeah, Sarah and I are having a little sleepover tonight.”

He smiles, highlighting the crows feet at the corners of his eyes and the laugh lines surrounding his mouth.  “Just like old times, huh?”

“Yep.” You smile back, a little nervous flutter in your stomach. 

Standing up, he makes his way to the front of his desk, waving you closer to take a seat. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how’ve you been?”

“Good, I’m doing good,” you clear your throat and take the seat he’s gesturing for you to take.

“Alright then,” he chuckles.

Once you’re sitting down, he braces his hip against the desk’s edge, folding his arms as he looks down at you. You nervously smooth down your skirt.

“Uh, how are you?”

He glances back at the phone lying dark on his desk; his brows pinch together in distaste before smoothing back when he turns to you. 

“Things have been better, but can’t complain too much. I have my health at least,” he chuckles, and it pulls a small laugh from you.

“That’s good!” You have to press your thighs together to keep your leg from nervously bouncing.

He hums in agreement, blue eyes roving over your face before flicking down you body and back up. “Well, I guess I should let you get back to Sarah.”

He pushes off his desk as you stand and you catch a whiff of his smoky cologne; it sends a shiver through you—a low warmth pooling in your belly. Mr. Kennedy’s palm rests on your lower back, guiding you to the door of his office. It’s not necessary, but you soak up the warmth from his palm, heart racing with excitement.

“I’m sure I’ll catch you girls later,” he chuckles, leaving you in the hallway while he heads back to his desk.

Your feet take you further into the house, muscle memory leading you into the kitchen while your brain buzzes with the interaction you two just had. Feeling a little out of sorts, you ignore any snacks and just grab a bottle of water. On the walk back to Sarah’s room, you hear the trill of a cellphone followed by Mr. Kennedy’s voice. 

“Yello, son.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, I know. Uh huh. Well, you’re always welcome to stay here. I know it’s a drive—“

The click of a door signals the end of the one side conversation you were listening in on—leaving you even more curious about the Kennedy family dynamics. Quickly shuffling past the now closed office door, you end up back in Sarah’s room. You make the decision to change out of your clothes into your pajamas—it’s not like you were planning on going anywhere later anyways. 

Flopping down on her bed, you scroll on your phone for a lot longer than you intend (as usual) before deciding to actually grab a snack, this go around, from the kitchen. You make it further than the first time before being stopped; only now, instead of it being the home office, it’s the living room.

“You two having fun?”

Mr. Kennedy’s voice startles you for a split second, making you pause in the open entranceway. Your head pivots and you take in his relaxed posture, sitting on the couch with a tumbler in his hand. He looks loose, like the stress from earlier has melted away—it probably has, you think to yourself while glancing at the glass in his hands.

“Is that a no?” His sardonic tone snaps your gaze up to his face.

“I’m sorry?” You laugh nervously, stepping further into the room. 

“I asked if you girls were having fun?”

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Uh, yeah, just like always.”

His lips quirk up into a grin. “That’s good. Why don’t you have a seat next to me? Tell me what’s been going on in your life.”

You fiddle with the hem of your thin shirt and make your way over to the couch and Mr. Kennedy. When you sit down next to to him, he pats your leg. 

“Y’know, you’ve been friends with Sarah so long, it’s almost like you lived here.”

He laughs and you join him with your own nervous giggle.

“Well, what’ve you been up? Besides classes,” he waves off the reply on the tip of your tongue. “I mean, you dating anybody? Going to parties?”

Your brows pinch together in thought. Maybe he’s asking to pry into whether you andSarah hit up any of the sorority invites. You shake your head no.

“Not really. I mean, I don’t really like to party so Sarah and I hang out and watch movies and stuff.” You pick at your nails. “And I haven’t dated anyone since high school.”

He nods. “Oh yeah, that boy who chickened out of taking you to prom.”

You cringe internally, embarrassment welling up. “Uh, yeah. So, my life outside of school is pretty boring.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he pats your leg again. “Sounds like you’re being a good girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine. “Thanks, Mr. Kennedy.”

He smiles, teeth glinting in the low light. “No problem, sweetheart. I just like knowing you’re being safe.”

A warning bell goes ignored in your brain. “Safe?”

“You can never be too careful these days. I hear all kinds of things about dumb little boys and sweet girls like you.”

“Oh,” you frown, angling your body to face him more. “Well, like I said I pretty much just stick to my classes.”

“And that’s good,” he murmurs, eyes dark as they skim down your body. “You’re muchtoo sweet for some dumbass boy. Such a pretty girl deserves a man who knows what he’s doing.”

Your heartbeat ratchets up, nipples pebbling under your too thin shirt at his smooth baritone. Mr. Kennedy’s eyes drop down to your breasts and he grins. 

“I s-should probably g-go,” you stammer out, beginning to rise up from your seat. “Sarah’s waiting.” 

The glass tinks when he places his whiskey tumblr onto the surface. He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you down into his lap, your back pressing against his chest. 

“Fuck, you smell good,” he huffs, nuzzling his face into your hair before trailing his lips across your neck.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp out, disbelief widening your eyes even as arousal makes your body feel heavy.

He moans, hands dropping to your hips to hold you down while he grinds up against your ass. “I know you lied for my daughter.”

Your stomach drops, anxiousness flooding your brain. “I-I don’t—“

“Shhh,” he soothes, shifting his hands until his palms are hot against your bare thighs. “The security cameras went off and I have a tracker on her phone. I know she’s out with her boyfriend.”

You slump back against him, thoughts running circles in your head. “She didn’t think you’d let her go out.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your back. “She’s old enough to know better.”

His fingers dig into the dough of your thighs, spreading your legs wider. “Just like you are. I’ve seen the looks you’ve been giving me.”

He nips the skin below your ear and you shiver in his lap.

“And since she’s gone for a while, why don’t we play house, sweetheart.”

“House?” You mumble, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when Mr. Kennedy lightly traces his fingertips against the skin of your inner thighs. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, low and dark. “I’ll be the daddy and you can be the mommy.”

The fingers of one of his hands glides up the seam of your sleep shorts before cupping your pussy through the fabric. “And daddy wants to play with mommy’s cute pussy all night long.”

You keen loudly, hips bucking up into his hand. His fingers dig into your cunt, the heel of his palm rubbing against your clit. The sensitive bud throbs—trapped underneath layers of cotton and aching to be touched. Arousal and trepidation go hand in hand as you writhe in Mr. Kennedy’s lap, letting him touch you in such an intimate way, wanting him to do even more. It feels so wrong, but that only heightens every nerve, making the rush that much more pleasurable.

Mr. Kennedy’s other hand grasps your hip, thumb pressing down on the soft skin. The digit digs into the tender joint and you gasp, rocking your ass down against the bulge underneath you. He grunts, palm grinding against your mound and guiding you into a rhythm that has you both panting.

“You’re already soaking through your panties, aren’t you?” He chuckles, and your chest burns in embarrassment. “C’mon, you can tell daddy.”

“Y-yes,” your breath hitches. “Daddy makes me so wet.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “Is mommy gonna let me play with that cute pussy?”

He moves the hand cupping you through your pajama shorts to slide underneath the elastic band, fingers gliding under your panties until his digits press down onto your clit.

“Ohhh,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the feeling of fingers squeezing together your pussy lips.

“Well?” Mr. Kennedy squeezes your cunt lips in pulses, teasing your clit with hints of  pressure that only make your hole drip more slick.

“Yes, please, please play with my pussy,” you mumble, head tipping back to rest against his shoulder.

“Whose pussy?” He kisses the shell of your ear.

“Daddy’s?” Your voice lilts, a little confused at what he’s asking from you.

He hums and swipes a finger across your bundle of nerves. “No, but I do like the sound of that. Tell me whose pussy I’m playing with, sweet girl.”

“My pussy.”

He clicks his tongue, and you whine when he pinches your swollen bud. “Mommy’s pussy!”

“Good girl,” he coos, fingers petting across your cunt lips and the hood of your clit. “Daddy only plays with sweet mommy’s like you.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, brain buzzing with static as his fingers tease your pussy with light strokes of his fingers. It feels like he keeps you there for hours, trapped against him, his hand cupping and squeezing your cunt with only the lightest of touches to your bundle of nerves as he whispers filth into your ear.

“So wet, my fingers are drenched, sweet girl.”

“Mommy likes daddy teasing this soft little pussy, doesn’t she?”

“Imagine what my cock’s going to feel like. Can’t wait to stuff this sweet cunt.”

By the time he pulls his hand free of your clothing, you’re a whining mess, begging him to keep touching you.

“Shh, shh,” he murmurs, helping you up from his lap. “We’re just going to continue this in my room.”

Your head bobbles with a nod, legs shaky as he guides you with a warm palm squeezing your ass. Thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind—you barely take in the change of scenery while he closes his bedroom door. Your eyes lock on Mr. Kennedy, watching as he sheds his clothes until he’s standing there totally nude. A light dusting of hair covers his chest, but what draws your eye is the blonde hair trailing from his belly button down to the thatch of hair above his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight; his dick is thick and long, uncut tip dripping precum that you want to taste on your tongue. His eyes crinkle with a teasing smile.

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?”

Your stomach flips with nerves, but you quickly slip your own clothes off until you’re just as bare as him. His eyes darken, taking in your teardrop breasts and hard nipples before dragging his gaze down your body like a caress, locking onto the damp curls at the apex of your thighs.

“Aren’t you a pretty little mommy,” he murmurs, stepping into your personal space. 

Mr. Kennedy kisses you. It’s hot and wet and perfect. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting go with a soft nip. Whimpering, you cling to him, hands gripping his chest and eagerly kissing him back. His tongue draws yours into his mouth and his groan vibrates your lips. Mewling in your throat, you kiss him sloppily, spit coating your lips and chin, making you feel that much hotter. His hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples in soft circles.

Your mouth drops open in a moan, your own hands reaching out to grab onto his thick biceps. Tugging your nipples with his fingertips, Mr. Kennedy grins down at you, pinching the buds roughly before smoothing his thumbs across your stiff peaks. He pushes you down to sit on the edge of the bed and kneels on the floor in front of you. Ducking his head, he latches onto one of your nipples with a rough suck, leaving the other one free for him to flick with his fingers.

Digging your fingers into his thick hair, he groans at the tug on his scalp. His mouth pulls away with a wet pop and he trails his lips across your chest until he can suckle on the opposite bud. He squeezes and gropes the breast not covered by his face, pinching the wet nipple between his knuckles before tugging it gently.

“God, it feels so good,” you whimper, fingers snagging in his hair and pulling him closer.

He chuckles and pulls away making you whine in protest. “As much as I love sucking on mommy’s tits, think I want to taste something even better.”

You gasp and arch your hips upward, “Oh please, daddy, please lick my pussy.”

“Fuck, how can I say no to that,” he kisses a line from your sternum down to your mound. “Lean back, sweetheart, and let me eat that hot cunt.”

With zero fanfare, Mr. Kennedy shoves his face into your wet pussy, tongue licking into your drippy hole with a rumbling moan. His nose grinds against your clit as his tongue laps at your cunt, slurping against your pussy so loudly it makes you go hot all over.

“Such a messy cunt,” he mutters against your pussy lips. “What a good girl.”

Mewling, your hands cup the back of his neck and you hump his face, smearing your wet cunt against his lips and chin. He groans, hands cupping your ass and holding you against him, letting him lick deeper into your pussy. Grunting like an animal, he eats your cunt like it’s his last meal. You rock your hips against him, dripping slick all over his tongue as he licks and kisses across your pussy lips. Pinning your hips down to the bed, he holds you in place, not allowing you to move at all while he kitten licks the hood of your clit before circling the wet muscle around your swollen bud.

He suckles your bundle of nerves with a hum before pulling back. His face is covered with spit and slick, the sight searing into your brain and kicking up your arousal even higher.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you sigh, tugging him upwards. “Want a kiss.”

“But I am kissing you,” he smothers his laugh into your cunt, kissing across your slick folds. “See?”

You pout, tugging his hair gently. “Please, kiss me.”

Dragging his tongue up your slit, he drops one last kiss to your clit before shifting up your body. Bracing one forearm by your head, he softly grips your neck with his free hand, lightly squeezing your throat. Whimpering, you buck your hips up, grinding your slick cunt against his abdomen before he slots his dick against your wet pussy.

“So sweet,” he murmurs before kissing you.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue and it draws a low whine from your chest. Slanting his mouth, Mr. Kennedy kisses you deeply, tongue plunging past your lips and filling your mouth with spit. It makes your clit throb when you’re forced to swallow his saliva. He moans, rubbing his cock along your sopping wet slit. The head of his cock brushes against your slippery clit and you wrap your hands around his shoulders to give yourself something to hold onto.

“This little pussy is just aching for daddy’s cock, isn’t she?” He finally leans back enough to murmur down at you. “You on birth control, sweetheart?”

“No,” you shake your head as you answer. “I’m not on anything.”

He groans, rutting his cock forward until the tip presses against your hole. “That’s good, so fucking good. You ready?”

“W-what about protection?” The sentence comes out quieter than you intended.

“We don’t need that,” he reassures you, voice saccharine sweet. “Daddy’s and mommy’s don’t use condoms.”

Another warning bell goes off the back of your mind, but the promise of raw, unprotected sex with Mr. Kennedy overrides all your nervousness. 

Nodding, you murmur, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” his praise makes you glad you decided to keep going. “Reach down and  guide me in, show daddy how much you want his cock.”

Dropping one hand between your bodies, you grip the base of his cock and slowly press it against your leaking pussy. He hisses under his breath and you glance up into his face. A grin quirks up his lips and he nods. 

“Just feels good. Keep going.”

Biting your bottom lip, you turn your attention back to your hand. Giving his cock a gentle squeeze, a thrill goes through you to hear him grunt. You notch the tip of his dick at your hole, feeling your inner walls clenching in anticipation. He rolls his hips forward and his cock begins to sink deeper inside your cunt.

Your hand slips away and your head drops down to the pillow with a choked out whine. “Oh, it feels so big.”

“Shit,” he growls, hips jumping and forcing more of his cock into your slick pussy. “I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.”

When Mr. Kennedy finally bottoms out inside your pussy, you’re both breathing a lot harder than before. Your walls flutter and squeeze his dick until he tightens his grip around your throat.

“You better quit that if you don’t want me blowing my load,” his gravelly tone makes your pussy flutter like crazy which in turns makes him tighten his fingers on your neck. “You just can’t help it can you? Mommy’s just feeling too good.”

His mocking doesn’t help anything, and you whine needily. “Please, it’s just too much.”

“Poor pitiful thing,” he coos. 

He pulls his cock halfway out before burying himself inside your squelching cunt— again and again and again. Picking up the tempo, he fucks you at a steady pace, knocking the tip against your cervix and sending lighting bolts of pleasurepain to sit heavy in your core.

“Can’t believe you’re going to let me nut in you without any protection,” he laughs to himself. “Fuck, gonna make me a daddy all over again, aren’t you?”

“N-no,” you stutter brokenly, eyes rolling back when he slips his fingers between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“I’m not mad, sweet girl. I love breeding little pussies like this, all soft and wet.” He groans, fingers circling your sensitive bud. “Can’t wait to see my cum dripping out of you.”

“We can’t.” But you can’t deny the more he talks about it the wetter you get.

“C’mon, don’t you want me to breed this sweet little pussy?” He grunts, cock spreading open your cunt with each thrust. “Just fill you up with load after load.”

You whine, walls clamping down around his thick length. “Mr. Kennedy, I can’t.”

“Aww, yes you can,” he croons, wrapping a calloused hand around your thigh to hike your leg higher, bottoming out in your pussy with each pump of his hips. “You can take it. Take me. Look at how eagerly this soft slippery hole gobbles me up.”

You glance down your body, past your heaving chest and soft belly to see Mr. Kennedy’s cock, glistening in your slick, sliding out from your fluttering pussy. He grips the base and slaps it down on your clit with a wet plap plap plap.

“Ready?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He guides the tip to your drooling hole and slowly pushes inside.

Whimpering, you can’t take your eyes off the way his cock easily sinks inside your cunt—walls greedily clamping down on him as he rocks himself deeper into your clenching heat.

“Yeah, there we go,” he murmurs, head falling back as he luxuriates in the feeling. “Fuck, love this tight pussy. Love stretching you out.”

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp and he groans loudly. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you like this daddy stuffing your tight cunt.”

Moaning, your fingernails dig into his shoulders and he grunts at the slight sting, hips pistoning harder into your wet cunt.

“I’m gonna breed this tight pussy,” he whispers down at you, pupils nearly swallowing the blue of his eyes. “Don’t you want to be a real mommy? Hmm? And who better to help you than a real daddy.”

Your walls flutter around his fat cock, more slick coating his length and making each thrust sound obscene.

“I can’t,” you pant, dizzy with the idea of Mr. Kennedy getting you pregnant. “I-I’m not ready.”

“But this little pussy is just begging for a creampie,” his voice is liquid sin in your ear. “Don’t you feel so empty? Let daddy give you a baby, sweetheart. Let daddy fill you up. I won’t let you out of my bed til it takes.”

The visual of Mr. Kennedy breeding you over and over has your legs twitching, body shuddering as your climax hits you hard. Nails scoring down his back, you babble nonsense as your pussy clenches and milks his cock, your orgasm whiting out your senses.

“Please, please, want it, want you to breed me,” you chant up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please daddy make me a mommy.”

“Oh fuck,” he hisses, fucking into your spasming cunt with hard, rough thrusts. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking my cum for days.“

He grunts and picks up the pace, hips rabbiting against yours as he fucks his cock deep into your slick walls. Growling out words you don’t catch, he buries himself to the hilt inside your hole, his dick pumping rope after sticky rope of hot cum in your pussy. You can feel his cock throb and pulse, making you keen weakly. Lying together, you both bask in the afterglow and try to catch your breath.

Once his dick softens, he pulls out with a low groan. He shifts to the side to lay back on the bed before pulling you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, and he runs his fingertips up and down your back, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“I’m not as young as I used to be, but it won’t take me long to go again,” the rough burr of his voice burns low in your belly.

“I don’t mind,” you murmur, tilting your head back to look at him.

He dips his head and kisses you, tongue sliding past your lips. You suck on the slick muscle, throwing your leg over his so you can grind your cum filled pussy against his soft cock.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles against your mouth.

“You said you’d make me a mommy,” you tease back.

Mr. Kennedy manhandles you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs. His cock kicks against your messy cunt and he kisses you heatedly.