Page 28 of Babydaddy To Go

“That’s right,” he chuckles from in back of me, licking his lips. “Warm and fresh, served straight from the source.”

And with that Nate rears up and impales my fully once more. This time, his sword lances deep into my abdomen, and I cry out once more, pussy pulsing with need and lust. I’m getting fucked by my dream man, and it’s just so good.

“Scream my name, baby,” he grunts. His thrusts get faster and faster. “I’m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my seed. Scream again, sweetheart.”

And I can’t resist. This man has taken me to the heavens and beyond, and yet I just want more.

“Please, Nathaniel. Yes, yes, yes!”

He reaches between us to rub my clit and I squeal, big Double Ds pressed into the mattress as he pounds me from behind. Obscene sucking noises sound out as that giant rod barrels into my pussy again and again.

“Come for me, Alyssa,” is his strained moan.

“Yes, Nathaniel. Yes, Yes, YES!”

He buries himself deep one last time, that fat thickness pulsing and twitching like crazy. I can feel his virility spurting from his rigid member, hot and wet in my insides. My own climax wracks my body and I cry out again, my pussy taken so good. I want him in me always, at all times, and I’m not ashamed about the wanting.

But after a few minutes, Nate pulls himself out and grabs his clothes. What? No sweet caresses and whispered words of love? Evidently not, because without a word, he disappears into the bathroom. The water jerks on for a couple minutes then turns off. He must have been rinsing himself off.

And the man moves fast. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s fully dressed, wearing his embroidered chef’s jacket and black pants.

“I have to get to class,” he says abruptly. I expect him to at least offer me a goodbye kiss, but instead, the man strides towards the door. “I suggest you do the same,” are his curt words.

“What?” I ask.

Nate doesn’t answer. He’s shifted into Chef Nathaniel already. I wrap my sheet around my shoulders and follow him, but he doesn’t turn around. And with that, the man’s gone, disappearing through my front door. There wasn’t even a courtesy, “See you later, you have my number.”

I’m completely stunned. What was that? I thought we were onto something, but apparently I was wrong. What man has hot sex and then disappears like a ghost? What the hell? Tiredly, I rub my eyes. My body aches all over, and shamefully, as I walk back to the bedroom, a hot drip of goop slides down my leg, his semen branding me all over again. Oh god, oh god. What have I done?

But one thing is clear. I do need to get going. My new bedside alarm – added after I overslept yesterday – says it’s nearly eight. If I’m going to make that eight fifteen train, I need to hurry.

My uniform is clean thanks to a quick wash I did last night. I’m going to have to make it last longer than one day this time. I can’t be doing laundry every day.

Once I’m dressed, I grab the lunch I prepared myself last night. It’s the rest of my leftover tacos, which is an annoying and sad reminder of Nate’s back and forth, but I don’t want them to go to waste.

The mess I left in the kitchen from breakfast will have to wait. The clock shows just after eight, so I grab my bag and my textbook and head out the door.

I bought a metro card yesterday, so I swipe it and get onto the concourse easily. The exact train is a little harder to figure out. I remember looking it up, but there are six different options in this subway station. I check the map to be sure. I need to take the F train, which arrives in four minutes.

Once I’ve figured that out, the rest is easy. The train shows up a minute after I find the right platform. Lucky for me, it’s not too crowded. I manage to find a seat and pull out my textbook. The pasta chapter begs to be read, but I can’t stop thinking about the passion Nate and I just shared.

He was so dominant and controlling, and I loved it. I didn’t realize I was the submissive type until Nate took over. I liked being told what to do.

At the next stop, a man who looks to be in his late twenties takes the seat beside me.

“Hey,” he says. I smile at him and try to return to my book, but he reaches over me and closes it. What a jerk! Who does that? “What’s your name?”

“Rose,” I say with a smirk. Grams said I should have a fake name prepared in case something like this happened. There should always be a plan to counter unwanted attention. My middle name is Rose, so it’s easy to remember.

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Trevor.” He tries to touch my cheek and I pull away. “You’re beautiful, Rose. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Earlier today, in fact, I think, but I don’t say anything. You’re not supposed to respond to guys like this. It’ll only make them think they have a chance.

Trevor scoots closer to me. I try to slide away, but I’m against the train’s wall. There’s nowhere for me to go.

“Please stop,” I ask.

“You like it, baby. Don’t lie. You’re just dying for my attention.”