***
Driving over in the car, Jake held Beth's hand. Just making a subtle acknowledgment of the building tension between them. And all through the party, he kept it up. Keeping his hand on her hip. Touching her ass lightly when it was appropriate. Brushing his hands against her breasts by accident. When they were separated, she would catch his eye across the room and a tense, electric look would be exchanged. She knew he was thinking about her nakedness.
It was all heightened by the fact that she looked so hot, and a lot of men were staring at her, alone or not, married or not. The whole night passed in the most erotic haze. At one point she caught his eye and glanced at him as she headed out to the patio, out on a balcony. They were way up on the top penthouse suite of some really tall building. She stood on the edge, looking out over the city, remembering how she had done the same thing a few months ago, alone. But this time, she wasn't. She felt him, heard his steps approaching behind her. She felt him come up behind her and before he said anything, before his arms touched her, she felt his cock. He just pushed it lightly into the small of her back, letting her feel it, letting her know what she already knew, that he had been hard all night watching her, that she was turning him on. He leaned in and murmured into her neck, "Feel that?" Oh yes, she did. It was all she could think about.
She had thought she was going to be swamped with "issues" this evening, but she wasn't. Her father was indeed there, standing in line, receiving guests, blathering on to all his cronies. But she did not care. Nothing was on her mind this evening but Jake's presence. His eyes, his hands, his cock.
At one point, they had to go make an appearance. He had his hand firmly on her back, touching her ass slightly, hidden from people, while they went up to see him.
"Ah, here she is!"
"Hi Daddy"
Oh my god. That word, said out loud, their own private secret dirty fucking word. She had thought it was going to be. . .weird. Creepy. But, it wasn't. In fact something strange happened. Standing there with Jake's strong, warm arm about her waist, literally positioned between the two dominant male forces in her life—her father, her lover—she was swamped with two amazing, unexpected revelations. One was: "I really don't have any control over my sexuality." And the second was: "And I have absolutely no shame about it." That was it. As simple as that. She felt total surrender. An absolute letting go. She was who she was. There was nothing bad, nothing at all to "do" or to "change."
The situation was so funny, so emblematic. Here she was, with the knowledge of her fantasies in her head, her naked pussy, and the men she desired—or had desired, at some point. She didn't ask to be here. She didn't know where it all came from. What could she do? She had these fantasies, she probably always would. But that didn't mean she couldn't ALSO be with a man.
She had the most profound, strange revelation. All this time, she had thought to herself: I have trouble responding to men simply, naturally, because these fantasies are in the way. And if I could just get rid of them, "get over" them, then everything would be great. But that was wrong, she saw that now. Absolutely, fundamentally wrong.
No, the truth was: she was ashamed of what her fantasies expressed—her craving for men, whether it was Daddy or anyone else. And if it all flowed from her father, so what? She had not accepted her own, her very own feminine desire. She saw it all as horrible, and it was easier to focus on the taboo nature of her fantasies than it was to confront that. Shame and self-rejection were holding her back, those and nothing more. And knowing that, she could accept herself. Completely. Without any judgment at all.
She said, "Daddy, you know Jake, right?"
"McAllister."
"How are you, sir?"
"I hope you're taking good care of my little girl here!"
"Oh, I am, sir, I am."
***
Driving back to her place, she didn't tell Jake any of the thoughts that had flashed through her mind. All he knew was that as soon as they had gotten through the receiving line, she had taken him aside, stood up to him, put her hand on his ass and told him "I want you to take me home." Oh she was on fire, he could see that. She wanted him. She was ready for him.
When they got back to her place, he took her into her bedroom, sat her on the bed. Then he began to strip. He wanted her to see him naked, fully, raw, real, right in front of her and right away. He unbuckled his belt, let his pants fall to the floor. His cock was jutting up in his boxers. He was looking at her while he took them off.
Beth just lay back and looked at him.
She had sucked this cock. She had fucked this man. But she had never been made so aware of his physical presence, his brute male presence, so solid and real. She was soft, naked, leaning back while he just stood there in front of her, wanting her to look at him, at his whole body. He got closer, spread her legs, stood between them.
"Stand up."
He took her dress off, undid her bra, pulled off her stockings, drew her hips back with his big hands till she was nestled right against his hard, hot cock, pressed into the small of her back, his thick thatch of pubes mashing up against the cheeks of her ass. He kept her there, held her there, said, "If it weren't so corny, I'd blindfold you. This is about you and me, and nothing else. I don't want you to think about anything else."
He began to kiss her neck, reached around and cupped her breast, flicked her nipples. "Come and get in the shower with me."
He led her in there, turned on the hot, steaming water. She scrubbed all her makeup off while he soaped her up, running his hands all over her body, from her ankles up her legs, to her thighs, up the crack of her ass, over her pussy, her hips, just like she had imagined a long time ago. When he got to her tits, he kept his hands there. He knew how sensitive they were, how they ached for him. They were sudsy and warm and her hard nipples were standing up and out, wanting his mouth and lips. He held her tits, caressed them, squeezed them, played with them while he began to talk to her.
"Do you ever wonder why I know so much about you? Because I do, Beth. I know."
"Well I haven't told you much about my wife. My marriage."
"We got married when we both 19. Very young. I was a virgin, and so was she. So trust me when I tell you we knew nothing about sex. My wife was exactly like you when we got married. Very, very inhibited. A lot of hang-ups. . ."
Beth was in a state listening to him. His voice, so hot, soft and sexy in her ear, seemed to go straight to the pleasure centers in her nipples, which he was rubbing as he spoke. God!
"So anyway, needless to say our sex life was pretty bad at first. Not horrible but not passionate. We never talked about it. We were both too shy. I wasn't quite as repressed as she was, but I never even thought of talking about it with her. We would have sex a couple of times a week. Straight, decent, normal sex. It was all very normal. And I think most people stay just like that.
"You think you're the only person to be bothered by your own fantasies? To have sexual urges that you don't like or want? You're so wrong."
"A few years into my marriage, I started having 'thoughts.' Urges, desires, to be more dominant with my wife, and I hated them. They bothered me tremendously. My lovely, sweet wife. I loved her so much. And yet. . ."
His voice got huskier, as he remembered.
"I also wanted to throw her on the bed and call her a dirty little whore! My beautiful wife. I wanted to push her down, tell her to fuck me, I wanted to dominate her, make her beg me to fuck her. I wanted to do a lot of things I just couldn't deal with."
"But one night, this was about two years into our marriage, things changed."
"It was a night a lot like tonight. We went to a party. She got dressed up, just like you. Fuck, she looked hot. I don't know why but that night I was in a strange frame of mind. Things had been really bothering me. I had even been thinking of separating, or something. I was angry. I wanted something to change."
"I had no idea, but she was thinking the exact same thing. I didn't know this til later. She had a lot more going on in her mind than I knew, actually. . .But anyway. That night, things just. . .happened."
Beth felt his cock harden, get stiffer. Heard his breathing change. Whatever he was remembering, it was making him really really turned on.
"She had a black dress on, just like you. And at this party I watched her all night, looking at her body, picturing her under me. Images came into my head. And, just like that, I knew I was going to do it."
He laughed.
"I know she knew something was up, because I was staring at her, glaring. She said my eyes were burning every time I looked at her."
"So when we got home. . .I took her right into the bedroom. I pushed her on the bed. Oh fuck my cock was so hard. I told her to 'Get on your hands and knees!' I was speaking to her like I never had before. Ordering her around. Telling her what to do. Mmmmm. . ."
She felt his cock pushing against her.
"Do you want to know what I did? Hmmm?"
Beth could not breathe.
She felt him begin to push her over. In the shower. He held her hips and very deliberately, very firmly, pushed her upper body over, holding her there, down, bringing her hips close to his, getting her beneath him in a submissive position.
"I fucked her, Beth, for the first time. . .Just like you pictured, the first time you met me."
Oh SHIT! She felt him spread her legs, roughly. Spreading her open. Holding her hips. Looking at her pussy. "I pushed her down. I told her 'Get your ass up and spread your FUCKING legs!' I wanted to see her submitting to me. I wanted to hear her fucking beg for my cock. I wanted her to tell me. Mmmmm."
