Chapter 17 - Misunderstood - Original Storyline
17
But Bailey, K-P’s daughter, was the
last fucking person on the face of the earth he should’ve run to. After meeting
her at Meggie’s wedding shower, he’d thought he’d forget her if he just fucked
enough bitches and had his dick sucked enough times. No matter what he did,
though, her gorgeous eyes and wealth of black hair haunted him.
After a while, he’d just said fuck
it and made peace with the fact he’d pretend every bitch who put her mouth,
pussy, hand, or ass on his dick was Bailey. Then it was just his fucked-up luck
to have bodyguard duties with Meggie on the day she and Bailey were hanging
out.
He’d gotten over his shock long
enough to pretend he didn’t remember her name. He’d ignored the slight hurt in
her eyes when he’d told her that bullshit. But, then, she’d called him the next
day and admitted she’d borrowed his
phone number from his phone.
Logic told him to brush her off.
Humiliate her. Tell her he didn’t need a bitch sweating his dick. He just
hadn’t been able to do it. For a while, shit had gotten out of hand. She’d
started calling him every damn day for almost a month, until he’d snapped to
his senses. Somewhat.
He’d started not answering her calls
instead of telling her straight-up not to call. That shit lasted a week, before
he’d given in and answered her. Until last week when he’d called her after he
dealt with Kendall, they’d spoken several times a week but he’d never made
arrangements to visit her.
And now this. A drop in after he
hadn’t talked to her since that night.
He leaned his forehead against the
door. Fuck, he was there now. He might as well go inside. Raising his hand, he
knocked on her door, hearing a faint, “hold on a sec,” a moment later.
The sound of her voice made his
heart speed up and his dick harden.
She swung the door open and her eyes
widened a little when she saw him, then her pretty pink lips broke into a
smile. She wore a short robe, the sash tight around her small waist. “Lucas?”
she breathed, stepping aside, a silent invitation to walk into her house.
Get into her bed.
Color swept into her cheeks as if
she’d read his mind. He needed to turn his ass around and get the fuck away
from her before he did something really, really
stupid.
Her nostrils flared. “Come in,” she
whispered, licking her lips and staring at his mouth.
Sarcasm was his best defense and he
opened his mouth to speak, but she outmaneuvered him and wrapped her slender
fingers around his hand and tugged. He felt like a giant next to her and he
remained right where he was, his observation granting him another reason to
leave. He needed a woman the size of Kendall. A beautiful, fine chick who—
Bailey drew in a deep breath. “We’ve
talked about everything over the past three months. You even told me your real
name,” she said in a rush, her fingers tightening on him. “I need comfort after
earlier and so do you.”
He pulled his hand free of hers and
narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, girl?”
Her color deepened and she looked at
her toes. They were painted orange. She ducked next to him and glanced up and
down the hallway. It was empty. She stepped back in front of him and untied her
robe, allowing it to fall open to reveal her naked body. Her berry colored
nipples greeted him and the landing strip she’d fashioned from her pussy hair.
“You still a virgin?” It was about
time his fucking brain started working. It also reminded him he needed to close
her robe up and hide her body from his dick.
She nodded, hesitant, her eyes wide.
He reached out to tie the sash back, but she caught his wrist and laid his palm
against her heart. She was nervous and scared. Her heartbeat was thrumming
through her in a fast rhythm. She slid his hand further down to her flat belly,
her gaze fastened to his, the warmth of her soft skin beneath his fingertips
stripping his some of his sanity.
She guided his hand lower, to her
pussy, and then dropped her fingers leaving it up to him on his next move. But
Mortician was just a fucking man and his dick would never forgive him if he let
his conscience fuck up getting inside of Bailey.
He cupped her pussy and pushed her
back, stepping into her apartment and slamming the door shut behind him. He
pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and she sucked in a breath. He
lifted her in his other arm, still massaging her cunt, and planted his mouth
over hers, her sweetness exploding in his brain, the taste of her tongue in his
mouth pushing a little pre-cum from his cock.
He didn’t know exactly where he was
going, but her condo was big, so he found her bedroom at the first door he
tried. It was lavender and white, a real girl’s room. Even the bed looked
female, if that shit made any sense, with ruffly bedclothes and a brass
headboard and footboard. Not to mention, it looked small, almost too small for
him to be comfortable in it.
Their mouths tearing into each
other, he settled her onto the bed and she kneeled in front of him while he
still stood, leaning down to kiss her. She shrugged out of her robe.
Sssscccrrrreeeeccccchhhhh. Brought
the fuck to his senses.
They stared at one another and he
could smell the juices dripping from her pussy. Her nipples tempted her like
two pieces of candy. She rocked back on her heels and scooted up higher on her
bed, sliding the covers down with her feet, then leaning back and allowing her
legs to fall open.
“Bailey,” he said on a groan.
She arched her back and fingered her
clit. “I-I know it’ll only be today with us,” she whispered, rocking against
her fingers. “I promise no one will ever
find out and I won’t…I won’t make a pest of myself.”
Free
pussy, bro. He understood his dick’s point of view.
Not any free pussy, though. Bailey’s.
5Gs
on the line, Mort.
Mortician scowled at the reason
entering his brain.
Shut
the fuck up, his cock ordered.
Okay, having his dick and his brain
battle it out was some freaky shit.
He shouldn’t have come to Bailey.
This was the quickest way…the quickest way to saddle himself with a bitch who’d
want normalcy. He wasn’t pulling that shit from his ass, either. He’d had long
conversations with her, so he knew what
the fuck she wanted.
Her eyes slipped closed and a
whimper escaped her. She was unaware he’d been talking himself out of fucking
her as she played with her pussy.
Maybe, one quick swipe of his tongue
over her clit. It would hurt anything. Just as she shook and made a little
noise that was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard, he climbed into her bed,
spread her legs open and buried his face against her juicy cunt. He licked her
swollen clit, smelled her desire and closed his eyes, her satiny heat like
heaven.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, pushing
the hood of her clit back and lapping at the most sensitive part of her.
“Oh God,” she moaned, pulling at his
dreads but then pushing and grinding against his mouth. He nipped her clit,
suckled, and licked, before covering her slit with his mouth and feasting on
her pussy until she came against his lips and tongue.
Until his dick laughed at his
conscience.
His cock hurting, he unzipped his
pants and pulled it out, not bothering to remove his clothes. He needed to fuck
Bailey. Nothing else mattered.
Her eyes widened briefly when she
saw his dick, but Mortician didn’t let her ponder his size too long, guiding
his cock to her entrance and sliding partially into her. She was tight,
gripping his dick and he wasn’t even buried in her yet.
He pushed a little further and she
blinked, lifting her hips and inviting him into her deeper. He hit her virginal
barrier and grunted.
“Lucas?” she asked, her tone scared
but trusting.
He smiled down at her. “It’s okay,
baby. This gonna hurt. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Closing his eyes because he didn’t
want to feel like such a low motherfucker when he stared into her innocent
gaze, he surged into her and stilled at her cry of pain. She moved against him,
searching for comfort.
“Keep fucking still,” he growled.
“And open your legs wider. It’ll spread your pussy and make you feel better.”
Her nails bit into his forearms and
tears slipped down her cheeks. She widened her legs in slow degrees, wincing
with her movements. Mortician gritted his teeth, somehow managing not to come
in her while she tortured him. Every time she moved to spread herself, her
pussy clenched around his dick and his balls grew hotter. If she kept it up,
the motherfuckers were going to burst into flames and then they’d be fucked.
Frustrated, he gripped her knee and
widened her legs. If he came like this, he’d be madder than fuck. He’d never
dropped his load without a few pumps.
“It still hurts,” she whimpered.
He gnashed his teeth together. “You
want me to stop?”
Tears glistened in her eyes and she
blinked, sniffling.
“Will it hurt you?”
Like a motherfucker.
“I-I mean will you be mad at me?”
She pulsed and throbbed around him,
and fuck, moved again.
Heat and pressure released from his
tight balls and cum exploded into her belly. He trembled and shook, moaning her
name, his dick jerking inside of her.
Breathing heavy, he rested his chin
on her head. Fuck. Him. He’d came. He’d fucking came. Without a proper fuck. Without a condom.
Bailey squirmed beneath him and he
pulled out of her, getting to his feet and staring at her, splayed before him,
come and blood on her thighs and leaking from her.
“I didn’t do it right, did I?”
“No right and wrong in this,
Bailey,” he told her, tucking himself back into his pants, feeling lower than
dirt because she looked so vulnerable and open. He hadn’t even gotten undressed.
Just pulled his dick out and stuck it in her.
Closing her legs, she winced and
grimaced, and he covered his face with his hands. Fuck. He’d never had a
virgin, should never have had her, and
would never take her again.
“When’s your period?” he asked her
bluntly. “Or are you on the pill?”
He could only hope. She’d wanted his
dick. She had to have—
“No. I’m not on the pill.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “And
your period?”
“About thirteen days away. Give or
take a couple days,” she added. She was staring at him like she was waiting for
him to say or do something.
Whatever it was, she’d be waiting
the rest of her days. He had nothing he
wanted to give to her.
He turned on his heel to leave, but
heard her rustling around in bed. He told his legs to keep moving, but his
heart—no, brain—made him pause and turn around. She looked lost and forlorn.
“You okay?” he asked, despite his
best intentions to just leave and sweat it out until he called her in eleven
days to check on Aunt Flo and keeping checking for the arrival of that bitch
until Bailey told him what he wanted to hear. And I’m pregnant certainly wasn’t it.
He felt around for his cigarettes
and lit one up.
“You in pain or anything?”
Where the fuck had his Bailey gone? She was a fucking
chatterbox. The stories she’d told him about K-P. Of course, Mortician couldn’t
rub it in his face because he’d rat himself out and let in on the fact that
he’d been keeping in contact with Bailey.
“A little,” she said, flushing.
“Go take a hot bath or something.
Make your pussy feel better.”
She nodded and lowered her lashes.
“Okay.”
“I got to get going, girl.”
Her nostrils flared and he knew she
was about to cry again. As if he needed more fucking guilt.
“You promised you wouldn’t sweat my
dick,” he said in a hard voice.
“I won’t,” she said in a soft,
miserable voice.
He slanted a glance at her, his
insides crumpling at the rejection in her eyes. He puffed on his cigarette and
turned back into her room. “Tonight, Bailey. Okay? I don’t want you hating me
because you trusted me to get in your pussy first and then I just left after it
was over.” He stuck his cigarette in his mouth and began removing his clothes.
“Tomorrow,” he said around the butt, “we pretend this never happened. Deal?”
Her tender adoration slipped past
his hardness. He swore their night together, the way she looked at him, didn’t
change one thing.
Even his dick twitched in amusement
at that outright lie, but Mortician gamely ignored it.
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW
Comments
Post a Comment