At Home Late CH 48

I run a hand through my hair as I try to recall. It’s not coming easily to me – all a
disturbing blur. Work does that to me Makes me a bystander to everything going
on in my personal life – a disinterested bystander at that. One day I looked up to
find out that Lia’s tits had swelled thrice the size of a medium–sized baseball, and
she now had a mouth–watering arse that made my cock raise its head excitedly,
bobbing it like a dog. My head spun at the quick changes, which she revels in
displaying in my kitchen, to the detriment of my mental health.
She’s a fucking flirt. And a good one at that
I’ve always seen it in her. Something in her demeanor, but her new banging body
makes that personality a dangerous weapon. She’s aware of her potential; of the
effect her appeal has on me.
Surely, I can’t be the only man she goes this hard for, can I?
I ask myself this over and over again, with no solid answer forthcoming.
The girl is only being nice to me, like any other girl her age would, but in her
case, it made me feel desirable. Reminding me that I still have a functioning dick
and decades left to use it and bring forth twice a dozen babies if I wan
Fold Up no way in hell that beautiful damsel wants a bulky, aging, thick–around–
the–middle bastard like me with more
sar Shale done this money timer befar to other man teasing and plexion around.
koekoer in his hair it’s nolun.
Hunt My Sepfather And His Best Friend
many times before to of pepper in his hair. It’s only a game to her. She’s done
this men; teasing, and playing around.
That’s what I thought until she propositioned me. Made known the surprising fact
that she wants me as much as I want
her.
Lia could have any man in the city. She could have her pick of any man in the
world. And yet she settles for me.
No one has to know, Big Daddy. I can be your cute, little secret. Think about it.
God take the wheel. It’s been over five days since she’s said those words to me
and I’ve been finding it hard to concentrate on my work or anything else. They
keep echoing in my head, and I can’t get rid of my erection, no matter how many
times I jerk off. And every single time, I think of her moaning Big Daddy into my
ear, her tight pussy making squelching noises while I pump in and out of her.
Honestly. I should be staked to a tree and burnt alive for even fantasizing about
the girl, but that’s as far as I’m allowing myself to get carried away by her
There will be no calling her.
There would be no long hours spent wondering how we could keep it a secret as
best as possible.
I’m a man with morals. Held in high regard by society. Not some middle–aged
creep who needs a barely legal girlfriend feel youthful again. Lia deserves much
better. She’s got a shimmering future ahead of her. An education. A career.
Other men. Young.
Islam my fist so hard on the table, my phone almost falls face flat down on the
floor.
It’s quite funny to be jealous. Absurd. Just great. I’ve let her hypnotize me. Let her
flirting get into my head. I’ve allowed myself to start thinking if she saw me
differently from other men. If I was in any way, special to her.
You’re disgusting.
Worse than pathetic.
Take a fucking look at yourself in the mirror.
My reflection on the screen of my computer draws my attention. I exhaled loudly,
noting the graying sideburns. Once upon a time, I was the hottest bachelor to
ever walk the face of the earth, but I’ve traded my health for wealth. I’m no more
as good–looking as I used to be, ever since Eunice’s death. What would I even
look like on top of Lia’s gorgeous, supple body? it would be awful. Like that
grainy homemade porn between a granny and a guy who was of the same age
range as her last son.
With an irritable curse, I swipe the thong off my desk and stuff them back into my
pocket, giving in to the urge to smell my hand, roughly inhaling the lingering
perfume of her pussy before forcefully turning my mind back to the work I was
doing. I open my mail, ready to shoot off a reply to an important inquiry, when a
subject line about five emails from the top catches my eye
WORLD CLASS BEST SERVICE. YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO PASS UP THIS
OPPORTUNITY. IT PROMISES A LOT.
My brows knot together in confusion. What in God’s name is this? An
advertisement? Seems like it. But why did my filtering service pick it up? What
could be the reason? I don’t recognize the email address, but the name of the
sender rings a suspicious bell; Princeton Bastille. That sounds like one of the rich,
braggadocios boys from my Saturday Golf Club for sure. And if so, I don’t want to
outright ignore them, especially if this is something ALL CAPS important.
I tap my finger on the mouse for a moment, contemplating, the clock the email,
finding a link in the body, and nothing more. Just a tiny red link
I leaned closer, squinting so I could read the words that is embedded in the URL.
Hot southem sugar babies.
What the hell is that?
Fold Up
Hande My Stepfather And His Best Friend
I shake my head, about to close the mail, to write this off as spam, but something
makes me tap the link out of curiosity. I’m not a man who can walk away from
something mysterious, and I’ve never heard of hot Southem sugar babies before.
If this is some serious, illegal shit that has been sent to me by mistake, I have to
do the right thing and alert the appropriate authorities to handle it. And when
the website splashes open across my screen, the header a deep shade of red,
that’s my first thought.
This is illegal!
Prostitution.
There are hundreds of girls, young enough to be my daughter, if I had one,
beaming in photographs in all types of poses. A vast majority are lying in beds,
showing peeks of tempting skin beneath their college sweatshirts. A sound of
disgust escapes my lips, not from judgment, but because these girls must have
reasons to exchange their bodies for money. Reasons like debt, I assume. And I
don’t like knowing that this is an opportunity for perverts my age to take
advantage of them using their bottomless bank accounts. Why in hell would
someone send this to me –
My jaw slacks as a particular photo catches my eye.
The first one is on the second row.
No. It can’t be.
It’s… it’s…Lia?
No. It couldn’t be Lia.
I must be seeing things.
I rub my eyes vigorously with the back of my arm and peer at the screen again to
make sure I’m not hallucinating. But there it is, Lia’s pictures, poignant, gorgeous,
tempting, and so… revealing.
In one, she’s wearing a light–blue, sheen–like bikini, lying on her side, her left arm
resting on her hip as she shoots the camera that bold, flirtatious smile of hers I
know so well. She’s listed in the FEATURED section – the first on the fucking list.
No surprise there. She is outrageously beautiful with bedroom eyes that speak of
higher intelligence and a terse smartness. Those lithe thighs and glossy lips
would make men lose control of their third legs in a heartbeat. She has that much
appeal.
Now that I think about it, who else has access to this website? Thousands of
men? Millions, perhaps? Every single one of them would click on her, including
me. I have no choice, and I’m so bored. I tell myself I’m just browsing through her
profile, gathering information in order to put a stop to this nonsense. I tell myself
I’m merely looking out for her, but hell, these photos of her frolicking on the
beach, looking like a sculptured goddess with the sun reflecting off her porcelain
skin like that give me the hard–on of my existence.
Somehow, I manage to drag my gaze away from the last photo which is of her
wet, dripping buns, and read the actual bio.
Hey there! Couldn’t resist clicking on my pictures, I guess? *Wink wink*. I’m Lia.
I’m just a normal, college girl searching for financial support in exchange for a
private, relaxing, fun–filled time with you…
I snap the laptop close, not bothering to read the rest.
What the actual fuck? Does she need financial support?
Her father is a COO of a lucrative hedge fund. As close friends, since I could
remember, we toiled, sweated, and gave our all to come up the ranks together.
I’ve been to his home countless times for visits and dinners. Lia’s family is wellto–do and financially stable. That’s even an understatement – they’re wealthy. It
makes no sense that she would be in need of money. None at all.
Was she lying? Why would she lie about such a thing in the first place?
Fold Up
Well, this ends now. I’ve had it up to my throat. I know I should mind my business
and stay away, but I can’t.
1He Best Friend
She’s…my friend’s daughter. If I had a daughter, and Lia’s father happened to
stumble upon her on some comy dating site like this, I know for a fact he’d do
what I’m about to do right now,
The thought of some lecherous old man putting his hands on Lia’s body is
making my stomach roll. It’s so inappropriate and sickening, but what’s the
difference between me and such a man? I also want to touch her, don’t I?
With a frustrated growl of self–loathing. I pick up my phone and unlock it with a
swipe, scrolling through Lia’s phone number. I don’t remember when I took it
from her, but I’ve had it for quite a long while, wanting to have a trusted backup
way of reaching Eric when they venture out of the house together and don’t
come back till it’s late as fuck. But I’ve never had cause to use it. Until now.
Even the thought of calling her up with my phone and hearing her soft, flirty
voice is making my cock throb relentlessly in my pants.
She intoxicates me. I hate it, and I love it at the same time.
She answers on the third ring. “Well, hello there, Big Daddy,” she sing–songs in a
light, sexy voice. “What a glorious surprise. Is everything alright?”
A shout builds in my throat. I want to yell at her. Demand a suitable explanation
as to what on earth she’s looking for in such a disgusting website as this, but I
stop myself, a bright idea sprouting in the depths of my mind. I want to see her
face as we’re having the discussion. I want to weigh her reactions –