Whitney Houston P.O.V.
Crushing on my boyfriend's daddy...
Read at your own risk!!
It all started when I caught my boyfriend’s dad stroking his big, fat cock one night. Luke my boyfriend had gone to bed early, blaming his exhaustion on his intense effort during a baseball practice with his friends, I stayed up and snuck around his father’s house to get some water.
When by mistake I had crept into Mr. Henderson's bedroom and heard the quiet grunts and moaning rom the cracked door, I couldn’t stop myself from peeking into the room. Ever since then, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after what I witnessed. Everytime I hurried over to Luke's house not to even see him but to steal glimpses of his father..
I had even tripped over myself the first time I had seen his cock, it was big, fat, throbbing and from the way he had masturbated that night I knew he had a problem .
I shifted in Luke’s bed to turn onto my side and stared at his closed door, my pussy salivating at the thought of me being in his father’s bed tonight. It wasn’t that I hated Luke. I loved him but I still couldn’t help thinking about more.
Like his father’s hands all over my body, his father’s face between my legs, or his father’s cock down my throat.
Staying out late with friends, barely passing college classes, wondering if I would ever come as good with Luke as I did when I touched myself and thought about his father—there had to be more to life than this, right?
After Luke fell asleep, I snuck out of his room and tiptoed down the hallway to the master bedroom three doors down. I stopped inches from the closed door, my hand closed around the knob and my pussy throbbing.
All I wanted to do was sneak under the blankets with him, pull down his pants while he slept, and suck him off until he came down my throat. I wanted him inside of me so fucking badly that this was becoming a problem.
Suddenly, someone shoved me against the door from behind, his hard body pressed flush against my backside and his warm breath fanning my neck. He curled his hand around the back of my neck. “Looking for me, Whitney?”
My breath caught in my throat, and I inhaled sharply, heart racing. “Yes.”
Damn, I couldn’t stop myself. I … this is so wrong.
“I know what you saw a few weeks ago,” he murmured into my ear, cock brushing against my ass and his other hand wrapped around my hip, long and large fingers stroking the front of my hip, getting closer and closer to my pussy.
“I want to see it again,” I whispered, pussy throbbing. “Please.”
“Is my son not big enough for you? You want to watch his father jerk himself off?”
Fuck, this is so wrong.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, nor could I stop my pussy from aching. I chewed on the inside of my lip and whimpered softly, his hard cock pressed against Luke ’s nightshirt that barely covered my ass.
“I do,” I whispered.
Mr. Henderson paused for a long moment, letting out a slow and unsteady breath against my neck. Then, he reached in front of me and shoved his bedroom door open, pushing me into the room. I stumbled in and turned around, my legs hitting the bed.
Dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination and a fitted white T-shirt, he closed the door and stalked in after me until he was inches from my body. My nipples pressed hard against Luke ’s nightshirt, aching and begging to be touched, pulled, or tugged.
Before I could react, Mr. Henderson twirled me around and bent me over the side of the bed, smacking my bare ass that had come out from underneath the short top. “Crawl up onto the bed. I want you on all fours.”
A part of me was about to protest but....
He grabbed a fistful of my hair. “I don’t care what you want, Whitney. Crawl up onto my bed, stick your ass up into the air, and stare into that mirror while I fuck you senselessly nless you want me to tell Luke how much his girlfriend wants his father’s cock.”
Heat warming my core, I crawled up onto the bed on all fours and stared into the mirror across from his bed. Mr. Henderson crawled onto the bed behind me, the moonlight streaming into the room through the window and hitting the bulge in his pants.
My pussy tightened, and I fucking needed him to put it inside me.
“Please,” I begged.
Moving behind me, he wrapped his free hand around the front of my throat, tugging me off the bed slightly and slipping his other hand underneath my shirt, his fingers moving up my stomach until they reached one of my breasts. I moaned softly, a wave of heat rushing to my core.
When he captured my nipple between his fingers, I arched my back harder and ground my pussy against his bulge, desperate for him to put it inside me already. He grabbed one of my breasts, then dropped his other hand between my legs, shoving them between my sopping pussy lips, then into me.
He shoved his fingers into me over and over, hitting my G-spot every time. I threw my head back and placed a hand over my mouth, the pressure building higher and higher in my core. Wave after wave of pleasure shot through my body, my legs trembling.
Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he held his hand over my mouth to muffle my screams, then dipped his head to whisper into my ear, “My son can’t make you cum just by sticking his fingers into your sopping little cunt, can he?”
“No,” I whispered.
With his fingers still sliding in and out of me, he rubbed my clit around in torturous circles with his thumb, his hot breath fanning my neck and making me clench. “I bet he doesn’t even get you this wet.”