#dilf!cameron

description: your dads bsf, rafe, and you stay back from family skiing, and when you two find each other alone together, things happen.

includes: dads bsf, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v, semi public

wc: 2,166

now playing - west coast by lana del rey (instrumental)

The winter air was crisp, biting against your exposed skin as you slipped into the steaming water of the hot tub. The cabin's luxury features were on full display here, with the massive tub set against a floor to ceiling window wall that overlooked the snow covered mountains. "Careful, don't slip." Rafe's voice said from behind you.

You turned to find him already in the hot tub, water glistening, small water droplets dripping from his shoulders. At 42, he was still so hot, younger girls always practically throwing themselves onto him at the country club. Sure he’d mess with a couple of them, but nothing too serious. "I'm okay." you managed, though your heart was doing tiny stutters in your chest.

The rest of your families had already left for the slopes, your parents, Rafe's ex wife, your younger sister, and Rafe's son. They'd all been excited about the fresh powder, but you'd claimed a headache, and surprisingly, Rafe had stayed back too, claiming he had some business to handle.

"Nice view." he said, gesturing toward the window where snowflakes were beginning to drift down again. "It's beautiful here." you replied, settling into the bubbling water opposite him. He looked at you smiling slightly, fingers swashing around in the water. You felt nervous under his gaze, you always had. Wearing a tiny bikini in front of him. He intimidated you in a way.

Rafe was leaned back against the edge of the hot tub, one arm resting on the wood as he watched the snow gather on the pine branches outside. "So..." he said, "Headache?"  "Maybe a tiny one." you smiled sheepishly. "Mm-hmm." he replied. "What?" you bit your lip, suppressing a smile. “Nothing.” He shook his head. "Oh?" you laughed. You splashed a little water in his direction, with it splashing against his chest. "I just didn't feel like falling down a mountain today."

"That's a much more believable answer." he smirked. When you were ten Rafe had taught you how to ski, he had you redo it, and redo it, and redo it until it began to become fun. But every year back here, no muscle memory kicked in and you had to relearn over and over again. "And your 'business'?" you responded. He rubbed the back of his neck with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m just tired, I wanted some peace.”

“I thought you liked to win? You always do when we race.” you teased. “I do like to win,” he exhaled, “Just needed some time away from James and Liz, their a handful.” You lightly splashed him with water, “Hey, I like Liz.” You laughed. “She’s a bitch.” He turned, grabbing his glass of whiskey, taking a sip. “She’s really not.” you stated, rolling your eyes.

He stared at you for a beat, a long silence stretching. You only looked back at him, gaze unwavering. He softly smiled “Yeah, well not to you.” he whispered, as he placed the glass down. A slow smile spread on your face as you splashed him again, “Jesus, light up.” you smirked. “Shut up.” he smiled, splashing you back lightly. 

You took this as the opportunity to splash him ten times harder, soaking his face in water. He shook his head, a small smirk forming. “I–I really didn't mean to do it that hard.” you bit down on your lip, suppressing a smirk. He turned towards you, smiling “That why you're laughing now?” he said softly. “No.” you laughed. Before you could even react he splashed you with water, wetting your hair.

“Rafe!” you yelled, pushing the water out of your face. “Yes?” he smiled looking up at you as you stood. You splashed water onto him, as he did the same towards you, standing up. He was taller than you, way taller than you. You felt small compared to him, with your smile slowly dying. You pushed at his chest, with him falling back down into the place he was originally sitting. 

His hand found yours underwater, fingers lacing together. In one swift motion, he pulled you towards him, onto his lap. You laughed, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. As both your thighs bracketed his, your chest pushed to his. You looked into his eyes. As his hand found your waist, pulling you closer. You paused, looking into his eyes, your breath hitching. "Rafe," you whispered, unsure. With it coming out softer than you meant it to.

His eyes searched yours, looking for hesitation, maybe. Permission, something. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, fingertips threading into your wet hair. He closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours, hard, slow. You melted into him, fingers gripping his shoulders as his other hand settled on your hip beneath the water. He kissed you slow and deep, and you forgot about the cold outside, forgot about your families on the mountain, forgot about everything except the feeling of his mouth and the way his thumb traced small circles against your skin.

When you finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, his breath was uneven against your lips. "Been wanting to do that for a while," he admitted. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it. "How long is a while?" The corner of his mouth curved up. "Longer than I should probably admit."

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you for years was now boiling to the surface. All those times you'd caught him looking at you a little too long, all those moments when your hands had "accidentally" brushed while passing dishes at family gatherings, it all led to this. Your breath hitched as his thumb stroked the back of your hand. The water suddenly felt too hot, the steam too thick.

You leaned in, kissing him again, hard, while rolling your hips into him. He pinned your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin there. As you moved your hands from his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck. Biting his lip a bit. One of his hands slid up to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin fabric of your bikini top until it pebbled beneath his touch. You moaned into his mouth, arching against him as the water sloshed around you.

"Turn around," he commanded against your lips, his voice rough with need. You complied, facing the massive window wall. The reflection showed your flushed face and heaving chest, with Rafe behind you, his muscular shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Watch," he ordered in your ear as his hands gripped your hips. His words sending a shiver through you. 

You watched in the reflection as one of his hands moved between your legs, his fingers moving your bikini to the side. Your eyes were glued onto your reflection as you looked at his fingers parting your folds and rubbing your clit. "So wet already," he murmured, circling the sensitive nub. "All this for me?" he smirked. You could only nod, your breath coming in heavy pants as he continued to stroke you. 

Without warning he slid two fingers inside, slowly pumping in and out. You threw your head back, whining. His fingers curling, hitting that addicting spot over and over again. He continued that motion for a while with his right hand, his left pinching and rolling your nipple. Just when you were on the edge, he pulled his hand away. "Not yet," he said, a teasing note in his voice. "I want you to come on my cock."

You heard the sound of wet fabric as he pushed his swim trunks down. Then you felt him, big and hard, pressing against your entrance. "Good?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question. Your eyes were closed, brows furrowed together, head thrown back, shaking yes over and over again. Before you could react, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden stretch, a mixture of pleasure and pain as he stretched you more than you'd ever been before.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "You're so tight." He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to move, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and force. The water splashed around you with each thrust, creating a rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. He dropped his hand down to your hip, with a bruising grip.

The combination was too much, the feel of him inside you, the pressure on your clit, the steam and heat of the hot tub. You felt a coiling tension in your core that threatened to snap. Your eyes were squeezed shut, whimpers and loud whines escaping your throat, as he thrusted in and out.

"Look at me," he said, his voice low, raw. His hand releasing your hip, catching your throat, squeezing softly. You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. His pupils were blown wide, black holes swallowing the iris. "You have no idea," he muttered, his other hand lifting up from your clit to tangle in your wet hair, yanking your head back to expose more of your throat. 

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, biting down hard enough to make you cry out, the sound echoing off the glass walls. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” You gasped, arching into him, your hands gripping the edge of the hot tub, panting. Your walls clenched around him, swallowing him. "Fuck," he groaned, his head falling forward, water dripping from his hair onto your back. "You feel... god, you're so tight. So perfect."

He grabbed your chin, leaning forward, with his mouth crashing onto yours, kissing you upside down. He bit your lip, slowly sucking it, until he pulled back. The glass walls of the enclosure were now fogged up with steam, but near the top, where the heat didn't reach, the glass remained clear. And because the windows went all the way up, acting as a mirror you could see everything.

Your eyes locked onto the reflection. In the glass, you saw him driving into you, again, again, again, and again. Hitting places you didn’t even know were possible. You watched as his hands gripped your waist, leaving white marks on your skin, as he pounded into you roughly. You watched as he claimed you, his face contorted with pleasure. You couldn't look away. The visual of it, of him taking you, of the sheer size difference, and of the fact he was your dads best friend, the reality of him being 23 years older than you.

"You like that?" he whispered against your ear, his breath hot, his pace increasing, becoming erratic and desperate. "You like watching yourself get taken by your father's best friend? Watching me ruin you?" "Yes," you sobbed, tears mixing with the steam on your face. "Yes, Rafe, please…” Your head leaned back on his chest again, back arching. “Please–don't stop..." you whimpered.

He slammed into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the space, louder than the storm outside. Your senses were overwhelmed, you could only moan in response, too overstimulated by the sensations to form coherent words. You were lost as you watched him, the way your head bounced back against the glass before he caught you, holding you in place so he could continue his pleasure.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice strained with his own nearing release. "Come all over my cock like the good girl I know you are." His words pushed you over the edge. Your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you, more intense than anything you'd ever experienced. You cried out his name as your inner walls clenched around him, milking his length. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot cum.

For a moment, you both stayed still, breathing heavily as the water continued to bubble around you. Then he slowly pulled out, with you falling in front of the hot tub, hands gripping the edge, catching yourself from falling. You both were panting heavily, the post orgasm haze beginning to clear, replaced by the reality of what you'd just done. You'd crossed a line that could never be taken back.

You felt his hand on your lower back, as you looked over your shoulder, looking up to him. Rafe's expression was unreadable as he looked at you, his fingers gently tracing your back. "This isn't the last time." he stated, as he pulled you to him, turning you around. He leaned in to kiss you again, his hands holding your waist softly, then pulled back. He gave you one look up and down before whispering, “Go get cleaned up. They’ll be back soon.”

dilf!cameron being the richest motherfucker in the neighborhood, and generous as hell. a little calmer due to growing in age, yet he's still just as dangerous from his younger years. father of a younger daughter named angelene, rafe developed more of a softer side for the women in his life, despite his failing relationship with the mother of his child—which is where you come in.

dilf!cameron didn't expect to fall for a younger girl, let alone someone that could have passed for his daughter, or even a babysitter for his little girl. though when he realized it, he did nothing to stop it. even when topper and kelce questioned it, he didn't care.

topper, two whiskey glasses deep and curious. "i don't know man, she's hot and all, but..."

kelce chimed in. "she's young as hell, probably childish."

rafe let it go in the ear and out the other. "since when do you two know anything about love? kelce, i don't remember the last time you had a girlfriend and topper, last time i checked, you got left for a pogue...twice."

dilf!cameron who pours all his love into you—spoiling you with whatever you want, planning dates (despite the suspicion from the woman thats still his wife), and carving out large chunks of time just for you. there's nothing he won't do for the girl that drives the beverage cart at the country club. which once you're his, of course he wants you to quit and let him take care of you full time. always the possessive type, rafe does not want other men undressing you with their eyes the way he does. he practically seethes whenever he sees other dirty, old silver foxes, tipping you large amounts and flirting like they haven't had pussy in years.

dilf!cameron being the typical, dominant man. does not let you take control during sex. he wants you obedient, even if you act bratty at first. he'll always remind you who's in control. loves, loves to throat fuck you til' you can't handle it—he will never miss the chance to stuff your mouth full, especially when you're running that sweet little mouth he so desperately enjoys. with him, rafe never gets tired. he'll fuck you so long as you're begging for it, and goes crazy whenever he puts you in doggy. smacking your ass to watch it bounce back, a sharp sting marking it as he shoves himself into your cunt from behind you. calls you pet names like "princess" or "sweet girl."

description: you seduce your long time crush into sleeping with you, your dads bsf, rafe cameron.

includes: dads bsf, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v

wc: 3,055

now playing - angel by massive attack (instrumental)

The tension between you and Rafe had been building for what felt like forever. It started innocently enough, with him helping you fix your form in golf, your breast "accidentally" brushing against his chest when you brushed past him, the way you'd catch him watching you walk away in those tiny little shorts.

Rafe was your dad's best friend, a man who'd been in and out of your life since you were young. You always had a crush on him, missing the days he would pick you up on Friday’s after school, taking you to lunch. After freshman year of high school he became more busy and those days eventually stopped. With you two growing apart, yet your little school girl crush never seemed to go away, and he seemed to never notice. But over the past couple summers, something had shifted. You were no longer the teenager he remembered, and he then seemed to be noticing.

This month he had come to stay the week over. On the first day, you'd worn a particularly revealing bikini by the pool, making sure to apply sunscreen slowly and deliberately while he watched from the patio. You'd seen the way his jaw tightened, how he'd quickly look away when your dad glanced over.

Yesterday, you'd "forgotten" to grab clothes to leave out after your shower, walking to your room in just a towel wrapped loosely around your body, making sure to go the long way, the hall you’d know he’d walk past. You'd heard his sharp intake of breath, the way he quickly turned around and mumbled something about checking on the grill.

But today was going to be different. Today, you had decided you were going to push all the boundaries. The morning sun filtered through the kitchen windows as you sat at the table with your dad and Rafe. You were wearing a simple white sundress with nothing underneath, a fact that only you knew. Your dad was rambling about some work thing, completely oblivious to the tension.

You pulled out your phone under the table, pretending to check messages as you sent him a video of you last night, touching yourself. Making sure to include just enough of your face for him to recognize it was you. Your heart was pounding as you hit send, watching Rafe's phone buzz on the table beside his coffee mug.

He picked it up casually, expecting a normal notification. You watched as his eyes widened, his fist squeezing his fork. A flush crept up his neck as he quickly locked his phone, placing it face down on the table.

"Everything okay, Rafe?" your dad asked, noticing his friend's strange reaction. "Fine," Rafe muttered, his voice slightly hoarse. "Just some spam." You suppressed a smile, taking a slow sip of your juice as you watched him try to compose himself. Throughout breakfast, you caught his eyes on you multiple times, each time filled with a mixture of shock, confusion, and something else, something darker.

The day passed in a blur. You could feel Rafe's eyes on you whenever you were in the same room, but he kept his distance, clearly trying to process what you'd done. That evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you heard your door open. You turned around, expecting your dad.

But the door opened to reveal Rafe, his expression serious. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Lock your door," he said, his voice low and intense. "We’re going to talk about the text you sent this morning." Your heart raced as you complied, the soft click of the lock echoing in the room. When you turned back around, Rafe was standing in the middle of your room, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his eyes fixed on you. "Sending something like that when your dad was right there?" "I was thinking I wanted your attention," you replied, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. "And it looks like I got it." Rafe ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "This is inappropriate, you know that, right? I'm your dad's best friend. I've known you since you were a kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," you stated, leaning back on your elbows, your dress riding up slightly. "And I think you've noticed." His eyes dropped to where the hem of your dress had risen, exposing more of your thighs, before quickly looking away. "This needs to stop. Whatever game you're playing." he says, taking a step towards you.

"Who says it's a game?" you interrupted, your legs over the side of the bed. You slowly raised one foot, placing it against his chest to stop him from taking another step. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your sole. Rafe's breath hitched, his hands coming up to grip your ankle, though he made no move to push you away. "You need to stop," he commanded, though his voice had lost some of its conviction. "Or what?" you challenged, your foot trailing down his body, over his stomach, until it rested against the growing bulge in his pants. "You'll tell my dad? About how his best friend can't stop eye fucking his daughter?"

“Yeah…” you said, humming, “I see the way you look at me… well, my body.” you add with a smile. Rafe's grip on your ankle tightened, his eyes darkening with desire. "What do you want out of this, huh? What do you gain?" "You." you whispered, your foot rubbing against him through his pants. “Stop,” he warned. You smiled, looking up at him, “I know you want this.” you stated, sweetly. "I can't believe you're doing this," Rafe sighed, his voice tight, his eyes fixed on the floor as if looking at you was physically painful. "Get your foot off me. Now."

"I'm not doing anything," you replied softly, keeping your foot pressed firmly against the hard line of him. "I'm just sitting here. You're the one standing in my room." "I came to tell you to stop," he snapped, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. "To tell you that video. it was a mistake. And you need to fucking behave." he yelled, throwing your foot off of him.

"Yet you watched it," you countered, tilting your head, letting the silence stretch. "And you didn't delete it. I saw you lock your phone, but I didn't see you delete it. You kept it." Rafe took a sharp step back, breaking the contact, running a hand over his face. "I didn't delete it because I was in shock. Because your father was sitting right there. Do you have any idea how close I came to losing my shit on you at the table?" 

"Did you?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Lose your mind, I mean. Or did you just sit there thinking about what I was doing? About how I looked?" "Stop it," he warned, pointing a finger at you. "You are playing a sick game. I am your father's best friend. I’ve watched you grow up. I’m not... I’m not some guy you can flirt with, I'm practically your uncle."

"I'm not flirting," you admitted, standing up slowly. Your eyes on him as you watch his breath hitch, his eyes instinctively tracking the movement of your body, the way your white dress clinged to you tight. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't want some guy. I want you." 

"Just, stop–fuck," he said, his voice rough, turning away from you to pace the small space of the room. You laughed, a low, dry sound, walking over to him, grabbing his jaw to turn towards your face. He stopped pacing. He turned slowly, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the exposed skin of your thighs. 

"You're making this impossible," he gritted out. "Good," you whispered, taking a step toward him. He didn't retreat, but his body went rigid, every muscle coiled tight. "I want you to stop pretending you don't want this too. I saw you watching me by the pool. I felt you tense up when I walked past you in the hall. You think I don’t notice?"

"I can't," he breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as if in pain. "I’m twice your age." "I don’t care," you said, taking his hand in yours, bringing it down to your stomach. “I watched you grow up.” he whispered, voice ruined. “Rafe.” you said, as you brought his hand lower, dipping it under your dress for him to feel, feel how you had nothing under. “Shit.” he murmured, dropping his forehead down to yours.

With a groan, Rafe gave in, your hands pulling his face closer to yours. He leaned down, his warm breath fanning across your lips. You kissed him softly, light. With it only lasting about 30 seconds until he felt his consciousness slowly creep back in. He started to pull back, shaking his head, “No, no.” he whispered lightly. Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck, pulling him in again. Kissing him harder, as your other hand trailed down, palming him through his pants. 

Rafe’s head dropped forward, his mouth open. “Fuck,” he breathed out. You continued touching him, through the fabric. And finally he kissed you hard, all the pent up tension of the past few days finally breaking free. Rafe's lips moved against yours with a need that matched your own, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

He walked the two of you back until you felt the bed hit the back of your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck again, pulling him down with you onto the bed as the kiss deepened. His hands found their way under your dress, touching your bare skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. "God, you're not wearing anything under this," he groaned against your lips, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip.

"I told you I wasn't a kid anymore," you replied, arching into his touch. He helped you slowly peel your dress off, watching you. "Fuck," he breathed, his gaze lingering on your breasts before moving down to the wetness between your thighs. "You're perfect." His voice was wrecked. When his fingers found your wetness, you arched off the bed, a whine of pleasure escaping your lips. He teased you mercilessly, his fingers circling your clit without quite touching it, driving you wild with need. 

"Rafe, please," you begged, your hands fisting in the sheets. "Please what?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued to torture you. "Tell me what you want." he said, softly. "You," you gasped. "I want you." That was all he needed to hear before he quickly tore his own clothes off, body lean and muscular. Your gaze trailed down to him. Mouth watering at the sight of him, thick and hard, already leaking with precum.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked with yours as he slowly entered you. You both groaned at the sensation, the feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely. Rafe's mouth found yours again, kissing you, biting the bottom of your lip. You whined, in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut. As his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper. You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own.

“God," Rafe groaned, as he pushed frantically into you, moving in and out of you relentlessly. He looked down at you, firmly holding your jaw “Open your eyes baby.” he said, increasing his speed. You bit down on your lip, brows furrowed in pleasure. “Look at me.” he said, harshly, pulling your bottom lip open. You opened your eyes, while he leaned down to kiss you, his other hand working on your breast. 

Fuck, you looked so hot like this he thought, hitting places you never felt before. Crying out in pleasure. But you wanted to feel him more, feel all of him. You pushed lightly at his chest, his thrusts slowing a bit in confusion. You breathed out heavily, moving over, pushing him against the bed. He watched you intensely as you climbed over him, slowly sinking yourself down onto him. 

A groan tore from Rafe's throat, his head falling back against the pillow, his eyes squeezing shut. The sensation of taking him in this way, of controlling the depth and the speed, was overwhelming. You threw your head back, a moan escaping your lips as you adjusted to his size, feeling every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The feeling was too intense, too much. But it didn't last long. You started to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips in a circular motion that had Rafe's hands tightening on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. Then, faster. Rafe's hips bucked up to meet you, his restraint gone. He was no longer trying to hold back, no longer trying to be careful. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, gripping you tightly, helping you lift and slam down on him with every thrust. 

You could feel the pressure building inside you, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to spill over. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. You moved faster, harder, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Rafe's hands moved to your throat, squeezing light, his thumbs pressing gently against your pulse point.

His body tensed beneath you, his hips stuttering. You knew what was coming. You could feel it in the way his hands gripped you, in the way his breath hitched in his throat. He was close. Too close. He tried to speak, to warn you, but you silenced him with a kiss, your hips moving faster, harder, refusing to let him stop. You wanted this. You needed this. Needed to feel him.

With a groan that was half agony, half relief, Rafe grabbed your hips, pulling you down hard onto him as he thrust up one last time, burying himself as deep as he could. You felt his body tense, his muscles coiling before he came inside you, warm and deep. You cried out, your own orgasm ripping through you. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, as you both tried catching your breaths, broken gasps.

The room was now suffocatingly quiet, except for the harsh, uneven sound of Rafe's breathing as he scrambled away from you. He pulled out abruptly, the loss of him leaving a cold emptiness inside you. He didn't look at you. He couldn't. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to you, his head hanging between his hands as he ran his hands through his hair. His shoulders hunched.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough. You sat up slowly, the sheets wrapped around you now. You watched the muscles in his back tense and coil as he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips."I can't believe I did that," he spat, finally turning to look at you. His eyes were filled with a cold, hard regret. "I actually... inside you. Jesus Christ." He stood up, frantically gathering his clothes from the floor. "You have no idea what you've done. No idea."

"I know exactly what I did," you said, your voice calm, steady. You turned, lifting the sheets around you a bit, allowing him to see the red marks his hands had left on your hips, the evidence of what you had just done together. "And so do you." Rafe froze, his shirt clutched in his hand. He turned slowly, his face pale, sweat still drying on his forehead. His gaze swept over you, but this time there was no desire in it. Only anger. "You manipulated me," he accused, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You planned this. The video, the towel, everything." You looked at him as he watched you slowly put your clothes back on.

"I gave you what you wanted," you corrected, a small smile playing on your lips. Standing up slowly. You took a step toward him, and he instinctively took a step back, hitting the wall. "You wanted it just as much as I did. You just didn't have the guts to admit it until I forced your hand."

"This is a nightmare," he groaned, turning away again. "Your father... he's going to kill me. He's going to kill me, and then he's going to kill you. Do you understand that?"

"He doesn't have to know," you said. You reached out, tracing a finger down the spine of the man who had just fucked your brains out, feeling the tremors running through his body. "Nothing has to change."

Rafe spun around, yanking your hand away, his eyes with a mix of anger and desperation. "Nothing has to change? Are you insane? Everything has changed! I just.. I just fucked my best friend's daughter." He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "This isn’t happening again."

"Whatever you say." you replied, your voice flat, as you stepped into his personal space again, forcing him to look at you. Rafe stared at you, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked violently in his cheek. He looked like he wanted to shake you, to scream at you, to never look at you again. But he didn't move. He couldn't. He was trapped by the reality of what had just happened. By the fact that he had enjoyed it, that he had come inside you.

"What, you think I'm not serious?" he snapped, voice full. "Not by a long shot." you responded. His eyes widened in horror as the implication hit him. "What are you talking about? This never happened." he demanded, his voice cold, final. As Rafe turned to leave, he heard you, “See you at the barbeque next weekend.” you remarked, smiling. Rafe froze, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn around. He didn't answer. He just stood there, his shoulders stiff, before he yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room.

ꨄ︎ dilf!rafe meeting creme!reader for the first time

rafe stood with topper and kelce, swinging golf balls that flew through the air and falling on the green of the field. these three aged finer than the wine they drank on occasion, maintaining that rich, older man look throughout their aging—especially rafe. he remained every bit of tall, broad and muscular he maintained in his younger years. there really wasn't much of a difference, except he'd become just a bit calmer, temper controlled after years of losing his mind before.

topper had lined the iron club up with the ball, always taking himself way too seriously at the tee like he always did. kelce shook his head, eyes rolling. "you do this shit every time top."

"and yet, i win every game." "that's not even true-"

yet, rafe's gaze focused elsewhere. the girl whose decadent skin glowed dewy in the carolina sun of the outer banks, and left the scent of her vanilla perfume at every hole she drove to. thighs plush in the mini skirt she wore, shifting every time she had to bend over to grab drinks, soft back exposed from the halter top she paired with the skirt. loose strands of hair framing her face, strawberry gloss slick on her lips.

his firm, southern drawl broke the childish argument between topper and kelce. "who the hell is that?"

topper looked over. "ohhh, i seen her yesterday while i met with some people for drinks. i think they replaced the other girl."

kelce whistled low. "and thank god for that. god damn..."

rafe didn't respond, his eyes burned through her like nothing else existed on that course.

her cart breezed over the grass as she made her way over, cheeks warm and thighs pressed together from rafe's gaze. eyes piercing enough to keep her shy as she nervously bit her lip.

stepping from the cart, she brushed the condensation from her thighs. "you gentleman want anything?"

kelce snorted. "mhm, bourbon and maybe your number." rafe gave him one of those stares, the kind that wasn't teasing in the slightest and burned holes through people.

turning back to her, he reached for her hand, his thumb rubbing over the top of her hand gently. "don't worry about him baby doll. you got anything sweet?"

the corners of her lips twitched in a small grin. "umm...i've got lemonade, sweet tea, a few wine coolers..." "strawberry lemonade?", "umm...mhm," "i'll take that then."

just as she digged for the pre-packaged bottles of chill, strawberry lemonade, every bit of tart and sweet to taste, rafe pulled out a hundred dollar bill from his wallet. "keep the change pretty girl."

"oh, i-i can't take this, it's too much..."

"but you will. since i said so."

his gaze rested on her longingly, that possessive, almost territorial look he gave when he had something to chase after. a gaze that felt pushy, watching her tuck the bill into a safe spot.

topper coughed. "we gonna continue the game or are you eye fuckin' her the rest of the day?"

rafe didn't even bother looking back as he spoke to her. "i'm takin' you home after your shift. can't have these other men preying on a small, sweet thing like you..."

her voice spoke soft, almost quiet. "i can just get an uber.."

that earned a scoff from him. "baby doll that's even worse, not on my watch."

rafe had waited for you at the back of the country club, his gaze on you as if you were prey to catch.

it took all day. all day of golfing, acting as if he was focusing on each shot of each hole, when he really wanted to watch you, driving around a beverage cart in a tiny skirt that rode up, barely covering anything. his piercing, ocean eyes focused on the soft, rubbing of your thighs pressed together every time you drove by him—panties soaked and clinging to the slick folds of your cunt, practically pooling onto the seat of the cart.

god, he hated behaving. knowing his wife sat at home, sitting with their little girl, waiting for him to walk through that door—knowing he didn't even feel for her the same way he felt for you.

yet here he sat in the backseat of his truck with you straddling his lap, cunt wrapped around his achingly hard cock as he thrusted up into you. he found it cute when you tried to ride him slowly, teasing him like he wouldn't make you regret it after.

each thrust he gave you made you cry out, rafe stuffing himself as deep as he could. "not teasin' me anymore, huh princess?"

your words came out incoherent, barely able to speak as he kept bucking up into you. "m' sorry..."