One Shots

Kuzaless

Inspired by the creative burnyourlocalchurch Please leave any comments or ideas below!

Nothing could ruin my mood more than college Algebra. Why you even have to take college algebra in fucking high school beats me. I don't even want to go to college, much less major in fucking math.

I groaned, glancing out my bedroom window at the house next to me. My neighbor had his curtains drawn back, giving me a perfect view into his upstairs music room.

He sat cross-legged on the couch, his chest bare, guitar in his lap. I licked my lips, drinking in the sight of his exposed tattoos as his long fingers moved elegantly along the neck of the instrument.

Biting my lip, I decided to shove everything into my backpack and go over to Chris's house for some help. I didn't bother putting a shirt on, sprinting across the front lawn to get to his purple front door.

I jammed my finger on the doorbell a million times with a childish grin, jumping up into his arms as soon as he opened the door.

"Hi, baby." He laughed, holding me on his hips by my ass. I smiled and pulled him in for a kiss, missing the feeling of his piercings digging into my soft flesh.

I heard the door click shut, and Chris turned so his back was against its wooden surface. "What did you need, little one?" I clenched my thighs around his waist, a needy whine bubbling out of my throat as I pressed my front against his.

His large hand came down on my ass with a satisfying smack. "Use your words, baby." I puckered my lips in a pout, mentally trying to piece together what I wanted to say.

"I need help, Daddy." Chris cocked an eyebrow. I tried to move my hips to show him what I meant, but his grip on me was too strong.

"What does my baby need help with, hm?" I bit my lip, not wanting to be a bother for him. He was, after all, almost eleven years my senior. He had so much more to worry about than an eighteen year old high school kid.

I blushed. "Do you remember any algebra?"

Chris smirked. "I'm pretty good with numbers, baby." He dropped his hold on my hips, letting my body slide down to stand on his hardwood floors. "Go set your stuff up on the couch, I'll brew us some coffee." He gave my ass a small pat, and I scurried to the couch, throwing my bag down and getting my books out while Chris sauntered off to the kitchen.

I heard him setting mugs down on his granite counters, and I resisted the urge to watch him as he did something as mundane as pouring coffee.

"Do you want some sugar, baby?"

I cursed under my breath. "Yes, please." I stole a glance at him as he poured the sugar into my cup and whimpered.

He came back with our mugs, sitting them on the table next to my bullshit homework before taking his place on the couch next to me.

Chris picked up his glasses from their perch on the arm of the couch and secured them on his face. I tried to hide my smile, but he caught it and kissed my nose. "What's got my baby so choked up?" He pulled the book closer to take a look at the problem I had struggled to work on.

"I'm not supposed to use the c-calculator-" I stumbled over my own words when I felt his hand slowly begin to massage my thigh. I pointed to the numbers with a shaky finger. "But they're so big."

Chris hummed, moving his hand higher. He was dangerously close to feeling the raging boner hidden in my jeans, and I began to squirm.

"It's so hard, Daddy." I turned my head to look at him, but he kept his eyes on the textbook.