One shots

The Dad's Boss (F×M) 🌶

ʸ'ᵃˡˡ- ⁱ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ ᵏⁱⁿᵏ- ⁱ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ- ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖ- ˢᵒ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇˡᵉ- ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶦᵗ• ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ⁼⁾

"Camilla, get up, you need to get ready." My mom shouts through the door.

Despite only recieving grunts and grumbles in return, she seems satisfied and leaves me alone. 

With a sigh, I roll out of bed, landing with a large thump in a tangle of blankets. 

Note to self: don't stay up until 6 in the morning having steamy, toe-curling, earth shattering, mind boggling, can't-walk-in-a-straight-line sex with a stranger. 

I'm not like that, I swear. 

Usually, that is. I don't know what was different last night. My friend was having a birthday party at a club for her twenty-first birthday. She was the last of our group to turn 21. We were all a little tipsy, at the very least, dancing together like no one was watching. 

Except somebody was. And that somebody and I had some very intense eye contact while I danced until he came over and asked if I wanted to accompany him to his home. I couldn't help but say yes.

He spoke like a gentleman.

He looked like a gentleman. 

He acted like a gentleman.

He most definitely did not fuck like a gentleman.

My whole body flushes as I think about what he did to me all of last night. He knew just what I wanted and how I wanted it. 

Good Lord that man was skilled.

Alas, when he went to draw a bath, I realized what I just did and ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Luckily, no one was awake when I did the walk of shame up my driveway or sneaking into my room after an embarrassing cab ride.

And that's why, it is now 2 pm and I'm in desperate need of a shower to get the smell of sex and him off of me. 

I stumble out of the mess of blankets, wincing when I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. 

No wonder the cabby was staring at me with such pity. I look in rough shape, and the dress I'm still wearing clearly shows the hickeys on my neck and bite marks on the tops of my boobs. 

My body heats at the memory of how they got there. 

"I'm fucked. I'm so fucked." I mutter as I examine the dark bruises. I think I can cover up my neck with some makeup and necklaces, but the bite marks don't look as simple. I'll just have to wear a dress that provides more coverage to my breasts. 

Walking to my closet, I wince again when I feel the ache in my lower half. I was bent in ways I didn't know was possible over the course of many, many orgasms. 

I make eye contact with myself in the mirror again. "Worth it."

~~~~~

Putting the finishes touches to my natural makeup-- a stark contrast from last night-- I double check to make sure the neckline of my dress doesn't dip below the bite marks. I also check to make sure it won't ride up on my thighs where hand marks I found in the shower are still very much visible. 

He wrecked me. I'm not one to masterbate in the shower thinking about someone. If I feel the need every once in a while, I watch some porn, rub one out, and call it a day. But currently? I feel like no amount of orgasms could quench the want burning inside me.