Page 46
Story: Pretending I'm Yours
I’ve never wanted children—being abandoned by both my parents left me fairly certain I’m unprepared to care for a child—but right now, that primal instinct likes the thought of fucking a baby into the sweet woman catching her breath beneath me.
“You destroy me,” I murmur into her hair.
She wraps her arms and legs tighter around me, holding me close. “Me, too. But you also make everything better. I never imagined it would be like this. So easy and…right.”
It is right, and so fucking wrong.
I shouldn’t be fantasizing about knocking up a woman half my age who I’ve lied to since the moment we met. But images of Maya big with my baby, with her breasts and belly swollen with our child, won’t stop dancing through my head, making me so hot I’m already getting hard again.
She blinks up at me, her eyes widening slightly as I pull back before stroking slowly back inside her. “I thought you… Didn’t you?”
I nod, my lips hooking up on one-side. “Yeah, I did, but…then you whispered in my ear. Apparently, that’s all it takes.”
Her lips part as I begin to thrust into her again, slow and easy this time, taking my time. I hold her gaze and this perfect woman lets me into the depths of her soul. There are no walls, no barriers, just her hope and need bare to me as we reach the edge again.
“Oh, Anthony,” she whispers as she begins to vibrate beneath me. “Oh, Anthony, It’s almost too much. Too good. I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” I assure her, reaching down to rub her clit with my thumb as I continue to rock into her, slow and deep. “And keep your eyes on me when you do, baby. I want to memorize how fucking beautiful you look when you come for me.”
“Oh, God,” she says, trembling harder. “Oh, God, Anthony. Yes, oh God, yes.” She comes, her lashes fluttering, but her gaze still locked on mine as her orgasm takes her.
I come a beat later, feeling my face contort with bliss, but giving her the same trust she’s giving me. I don’t look away or close my eyes or bury my face in the curve of her neck. I show her what she does to me and she rewards me by coming for me again, her second, swift orgasm so intense that her slick heat grips me like a fist.
And it is by far the hottest, sweetest sex of my life.
By the time we catch our breath again, I can’t fight the urge to confess, “This isn’t pretend for me. Not even a little bit.”
“It’s not for me, either.” The relief and joy mingling in her gaze hurt as much as they comfort.
Is this going to make it harder or easier to hear my confession, when the time is right?
I don’t know. But I know now isn’t the time. I refuse to ruin this moment for her. Or for myself.
Call me a selfish bastard, but I don’t want to mar the memory of the first time we confessed we have feelings for each other with any ugliness.
I’m still pretending, I guess, but not about the things that count.
The warm, perfect feeling in my chest as Maya and I take another shower and sit down to share the amazing meal she’s made is real.
Maybe the realest thing I’ve ever felt, and I’m going to fight like hell to keep it—and Maya—close.
chapter 14
MAYA
I’m a lucky woman.
I was born to solidly middle-class parents who provided for all my needs while also making sure our home was a place where I felt safe and loved for exactly who I am, no modifications required.
And yes, we’re kind of a sickly, allergic clan, and I found myself in the back of an ambulance, clinging to my dad’s or sister’s hands while they fought to breathe after being accidentally exposed to one of their food triggers far too many times for comfort. And yes, my sister’s crappy boyfriends and crappier husband made me afraid for her—and wary of men—but on the whole, I’ve led a blessed life.
I have wonderful friends, hobbies that bring me joy, work I find both challenging and exciting, and dreams I feel confident I can make come true.
Well, except one…
After years of being friend-zoned and dismissed as a person worthy of romantic interest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the husband and family I once saw as part of my future. But I’d started to accept that maybe not all dreams come true, and that maybe that was okay.
After all, even without romantic love in my life, I have never wanted for affection, care, or support.
“You destroy me,” I murmur into her hair.
She wraps her arms and legs tighter around me, holding me close. “Me, too. But you also make everything better. I never imagined it would be like this. So easy and…right.”
It is right, and so fucking wrong.
I shouldn’t be fantasizing about knocking up a woman half my age who I’ve lied to since the moment we met. But images of Maya big with my baby, with her breasts and belly swollen with our child, won’t stop dancing through my head, making me so hot I’m already getting hard again.
She blinks up at me, her eyes widening slightly as I pull back before stroking slowly back inside her. “I thought you… Didn’t you?”
I nod, my lips hooking up on one-side. “Yeah, I did, but…then you whispered in my ear. Apparently, that’s all it takes.”
Her lips part as I begin to thrust into her again, slow and easy this time, taking my time. I hold her gaze and this perfect woman lets me into the depths of her soul. There are no walls, no barriers, just her hope and need bare to me as we reach the edge again.
“Oh, Anthony,” she whispers as she begins to vibrate beneath me. “Oh, Anthony, It’s almost too much. Too good. I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” I assure her, reaching down to rub her clit with my thumb as I continue to rock into her, slow and deep. “And keep your eyes on me when you do, baby. I want to memorize how fucking beautiful you look when you come for me.”
“Oh, God,” she says, trembling harder. “Oh, God, Anthony. Yes, oh God, yes.” She comes, her lashes fluttering, but her gaze still locked on mine as her orgasm takes her.
I come a beat later, feeling my face contort with bliss, but giving her the same trust she’s giving me. I don’t look away or close my eyes or bury my face in the curve of her neck. I show her what she does to me and she rewards me by coming for me again, her second, swift orgasm so intense that her slick heat grips me like a fist.
And it is by far the hottest, sweetest sex of my life.
By the time we catch our breath again, I can’t fight the urge to confess, “This isn’t pretend for me. Not even a little bit.”
“It’s not for me, either.” The relief and joy mingling in her gaze hurt as much as they comfort.
Is this going to make it harder or easier to hear my confession, when the time is right?
I don’t know. But I know now isn’t the time. I refuse to ruin this moment for her. Or for myself.
Call me a selfish bastard, but I don’t want to mar the memory of the first time we confessed we have feelings for each other with any ugliness.
I’m still pretending, I guess, but not about the things that count.
The warm, perfect feeling in my chest as Maya and I take another shower and sit down to share the amazing meal she’s made is real.
Maybe the realest thing I’ve ever felt, and I’m going to fight like hell to keep it—and Maya—close.
chapter 14
MAYA
I’m a lucky woman.
I was born to solidly middle-class parents who provided for all my needs while also making sure our home was a place where I felt safe and loved for exactly who I am, no modifications required.
And yes, we’re kind of a sickly, allergic clan, and I found myself in the back of an ambulance, clinging to my dad’s or sister’s hands while they fought to breathe after being accidentally exposed to one of their food triggers far too many times for comfort. And yes, my sister’s crappy boyfriends and crappier husband made me afraid for her—and wary of men—but on the whole, I’ve led a blessed life.
I have wonderful friends, hobbies that bring me joy, work I find both challenging and exciting, and dreams I feel confident I can make come true.
Well, except one…
After years of being friend-zoned and dismissed as a person worthy of romantic interest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the husband and family I once saw as part of my future. But I’d started to accept that maybe not all dreams come true, and that maybe that was okay.
After all, even without romantic love in my life, I have never wanted for affection, care, or support.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87