**Valerie’s POV**
I discovered something amazing about pools.
It was spring break, and my best friend Marcy and I had it in our minds to get the perfect tan before our upcoming trip to Cancún. She had a nice pool at her house, so I took her up on her offer to lounge out on her patio with drinks in our hands, and liberal amounts of baby oil on our skin.
That day, I arrived at her house with my overnight bag stuffed full of all the necessities I’d need to spend the night. We eagerly changed into our bathing suits and plopped ourselves onto two reclinable patio chairs before we’d even had much of a conversation. While under the incessant rays of the Florida sun, we listened to Sublime and Jimmy Buffett to fully immerse ourselves into that careless, beachy attitude we expected to embody on our vacation. We made homemade margaritas, and passed a joint lazily over the space between our chairs, our arms reaching out after every puff like the *The Creation of Adam.*
Marcy’s parents are so much cooler than mine. They don’t restrict her from doing things like drinking, smoking, and bringing guys around. I grew up Catholic, with strict, draconian parents that didn’t even let me have a *boyfriend* until I was seventeen. I think the reason Marcy’s parents were so lenient with her is because they’re on the verge of either divorcing, or ripping the heads off of each other, and they just want Marcy to be happy through their constant bickering.
But the freedom of getting high by the pool wasn’t the only thing I thought was cool about hanging around Marcy’s place. You know that song “Stacy’s Mom”? Well, I could sing a similar one about Marcy’s dad. I’ve had the most *pathetic* schoolgirl crush on him from the moment I laid eyes on him a whole two years ago. He totally has that silver fox thing going for him—he sort of looks like Jeffrey Dean Morgan. I frequently find myself fantasizing about Marcy’s dad. Just the *thought* of his hands on me makes my skin crawl in the best of ways.
Later on in that day under the sun, I started to sweat, so I decided to take a dip in the pool. This is where I discovered the *amazing* thing I mentioned before. I dipped under the surface of the water, swam a lap or two, and then sat by one of the pool jets, letting it pulse into the muscles of my back. After a long, stressful semester, this was *exactly* what I needed. I thought it might be nice to sip the rest of my margarita as I did this, so I asked Marcy to pass it to me. That’s when it happened—
I turned around and extended my arm to get my drink— and in doing so, the pool jet lined up perfectly with my bikini bottom— drumming a torrent of water *directly* against my clit. It was shocking enough to make me gasp. Just that split second of unexpected attention on such a sensitive area made my skin tingle with arousal. I quickly snatched my drink, and spun back around, feeling secretly horny.
After I discovered this magical sensation, I kept sending Marcy inside so that I could try out the jet again. I gulped my drink down to the ice and told her I wanted another one. The moment she disappeared beyond the sliding doors, I pressed myself back against that sweet, powerful stream. It was an all-encompassing sensation that could rival even the best vibrator in the world—beating steadily against my clit and labia, and then tapering off into a gentle stream that traveled through my butt cheeks. I was so heavy with arousal— and so close to cumming— when I heard the slider door open again. Immediately, I backed away from the pool wall, every nerve screaming from the loss of pleasure.
Marcy passed me my new drink, and I took a begrudging sip while I thought up a new plan to send her inside. My clit was swollen under my bikini bottom, and I kept crossing my legs to put pressure on it. God, I *needed* to cum. I was desperate for relief. “I think I hear the phone ringing inside.” I told her. My voice was hoarse. Marcy argued that she didn’t hear it, but I was persistent about it until she finally got up to check.
“I have to pee anyways.” She shrugged. *Good,* I thought, praying she took her time in the bathroom.
I responded to the click of the closing slider like Pavlov’s dog—instantly forcing myself back under the jet. I moved my bikini to the side with one hand. The lack of fabric between my clit and the rushing water made it *so* much better. It was almost too much to handle. I took in wanton, hitching breaths as I conjured up a fantasy of Marcy’s father. I pictured his mouth grazing and sucking on my ripe nipples, and his face between my legs, lapping at my young, wet pussy. If he only *knew* how badly I wanted him to fuck me— how badly I wanted him to ravage me— to do anything and everything he pleased with my body. I let the thought add to my experience, bringing me higher and higher. I was so close then— Just seconds away from dissolving into moaning, quivering chaos.
“Like I said, it *wasn’t* ringing.” The suddenness of Marcy’s voice made me throw myself from bliss once again. I hadn’t even *heard* the door open that time. I was flushed when she made her way to her chair. “You alright, Val?” She arched an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I lied. *God damn it, Marcy! Go away!*
The rest of the day, I sulked by the pool. I’d given up on reaching an orgasm, and my excitement was tamed by the time Marcy’s parents arrived home from their respective jobs. When the sun began to set, Marcy and I packed up our little pool party and went inside to shower and have dinner. It was eerily quiet at the dinner table. There was a heavy tension between Marcy’s parents. I barely picked at my food, too distracted by the man sitting across from me.
“Pass the butter, Ben.” Marcy’s mom spoke, cold and clipped to her husband. He pushed it toward her without a word. I watched his hand slide across the table, staring intently at his long, capable fingers.
After dinner, Marcy smoked another joint, blowing columns of grey out through her bedroom window. I was laying on her shag area rug, my mind cycling through sinful fantasies. With the aid of marijuana and a full day of sun, Marcy passed out not long after she got into bed. I should’ve been as exhausted as she was, but there was something keeping me awake— some small part of me was still revved up from my little escapade in the pool. I checked the clock over and over, each time noticing how late it had gotten and how awake I still felt. I was sexually frustrated, and I came to the conclusion that I’d never be able to fall asleep until I remedied the issue.
I peeked at Marcy— she was out cold, with her mouth hanging open, trilling gentle snores. *Good.* I then snaked a hand into my pajama bottoms, circling my fingers around my clit. With my eyes screwed shut, I fantasized more about Benjamin, Marcy’s dad. This time I tried to imagine what he’d look like naked, and how his cock would feel pumping into me. I curved a finger inside of me, disappointed by how small it felt. This just wasn’t getting the job done. I wished I had brought my vibrator along with me, or could be back in the pool, feeling the power of that jet.
Then, an idea struck me. It had gotten so late, that everyone in house must be asleep. I was sure I was the only one left awake, driven mad by my own lust. *I could sneak into the pool,* I thought. *No one will notice.*
In an act of desperation, I crept out of Marcy’s bed, feeling around in the darkness for the door. Once I’d gotten that far, I slunk out into the dim hallway, taking light, purposeful footsteps. I passed by her parent’s room, and listened for a moment. It was dead quiet. *Perfect.* I made my way downstairs, tiptoed through the living room, unlocked the slider, and stepped out onto the humid patio. It made me giddy to do something so sneaky and naughty. The thought that someone might catch me made me even hornier. I went through the screen door and fumbled around out in the grass by the side of the house, searching for the switch that turned the pool jets on. When I clicked the switch, the pool responded with a constant, deep rumble. I was a little worried that someone would hear it, but I was already too far in to back out. With my heart racing, I headed back onto the screened-in patio, looking down into the darkness of the pool. I saw bubbles rising up in the place where I’d soon be reaching an ultimate euphoria. The sight sent a flood of heat and heaviness to my lower stomach. I was *so* ready. I shot a cautious glance toward the house as I pulled down my pajama bottoms and panties. There was no one in sight, so I removed my tank top as well. I figured I’d get the deed done, get dressed, and sneak back into Marcy’s bed as if I’d been there all along. I traveled down the steps of the pool and into deeper water, seeking the coverage it provided. Then I waded over to the jet, feeling the power of it become stronger and stronger the closer I got.
I hung onto the stone edge of the pool and positioned my lower half perfectly in line with the stream. It hit me with a feeling I’d been craving *all day* long. *Yes, yes! God, this is good!* My eyes rolled back into my head, and my lips parted as I took in the glorious sensation. I shifted my hips around, dancing my clit in and out of the top of the stream. *Mmmm, that’s nice.* It was so thrilling to masturbate out in the open. Just the idea of what I was doing made me irrationally horny, and I soon found myself building up toward the orgasm I’d been longing for. I was trying to be silent, but I couldn’t help but let a few whimpers and whines escape. It was just too goddamned *good.*
I laid my head down on the stones, turning it toward the house with my eyelids pressed together. I was so close. This was it. I opened my eyes briefly, letting a little moan fall from my lips, when I saw a sight that shocked me to my core— Marcy’s dad was standing out on the patio, *watching* me! My hands flew up to cover my breasts as I shot away from the wall. Adrenaline hit me in a cold rush, and I began to stutter out apologies to him. *How long has he been there?*
Marcy’s father merely chuckled at me. His hair was tousled from sleep, and he was only wearing a pair of striped pajama bottoms. For the first time ever, I looked upon his chest, which was kept pretty fit for his age, and had a coat of sexy grey and black hair. “Sorry to interrupt.” He cut off my stream of words in that deep, velvety voice I admired so much.
I shook my head like a lunatic. “No, no— *I’m* sorry.” I told him again. “This is completely inappropriate of me. I can’t apologize enough, Mr. Larson. I’m going to head back inside, if you’ll give me the privacy to get dressed.” My heart was beating out of my chest.
“You really don’t have to.” Benjamin said, quite nonchalantly. “I was sleeping out on the couch when I saw you come out here, so I figured I’d see what you were up to. I’ll go back in so you can finish up.”
My mouth popped open. Was he *really* giving me the all clear to cum in his pool? I watched with surprise as he started to walk inside. “Wait!” I called after him. He looked back over his shoulder, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
“Are you sure? I mean— you’re okay with this?” I asked.
“Of course… I know how it is.” He said, conjuring up sinful images in my mind.
He then went inside without another word, leaving me dizzy with adrenaline and unfettered lust. I wondered how much of me he’d seen— he must’ve seen my breasts *at least,* and he’d no doubt heard me moaning. I should’ve felt more embarrassed that he’d caught me, but the way he responded to it just made me more restless inside. Now he was back in the house, and he *knew* that I was going to essentially use his pool as a sex toy. The fact drove me wild.
**Benjamin’s POV**
Valerie.
Valerie, Valerie, *Valerie.*
There isn’t much room for excitement in my life. I live for the little things. Which is why when I heard that my daughter’s friend was spending the night, I rushed out of work instead of taking the long way home.
She’s really something, that Valerie. I’ve never met a girl more sweet on the eyes— with her shiny black mane, tanned, lithe body, and feline eyes. If I was thirty years younger, I’d shoot my shot— but I’ll have to be content with just having her around once in a while— I know a girl like Valerie’d never be caught dead with an old man like me.
Earlier, I enjoyed the sight of her smoking out in the sun. I watched from the living room as she puckered her pink lips to suck at the end of a joint. She had one shiny knee propped up that she swayed back and forth, and each time she exhaled, some of the smoke would leave her nostrils, curling up and over her forehead. What a sight. And there I thought I was lucky to get a look at her in that skimpy little bikini— I had no right idea what a thrill I was in for.
My wife sent me to the couch again. I didn’t argue about it this time— I had no desire to sleep in the same room as her, let alone the same bed. I gathered up a pillow and throw blanket, and made myself comfortable in the living room. As I lay there, I found it impossible to sleep. I kept thinking about how badly I needed to go through with the divorce. I needed to get it done, once and for all. I was so unhappy as of late, that the sight of Valerie by the pool had been the highlight of my *month.* I found that unnerving. I needed change.
I tossed and turned and contemplated life, until the patter of coming footsteps caught my attention. I half expected it to be my wife— angry, and ready to tell me some other point she’d missed in our last argument— but it wasn’t. It was *her*—the vixen whose name plays upon happy nerve endings. She didn’t notice me there as she passed by, and I was too surprised to see her out and about so late to ask what she was doing. I watched her from my discreet position on the couch as she opened the sliding door to the back patio, and escaped into the night. I sat up on the couch to find that she’d also gone through the screen door. At that point, I was worried that she was sleepwalking and would hurt herself wandering around in the yard. I prepared myself to get up and go after her, when I saw her come back in by the pool and start to shimmy out of her clothes.
Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t mean to watch her? If I told you that the sight of her naked body drew me in like an old fisherman to a siren? I don’t know what came over me— it was outright *hypnotism.* She stepped out of her pajama bottoms, revealing the long, limber legs I’d stared at earlier. I had the brief view of the lace adorning her hips, before they too were sent to the floor. My poor neglected heart was pumping like mad when she brought her top over her head in one quick motion— and there she was— nude as the day she was born. I was stunned by the sight. She tossed all of her clothes onto a chair and disappeared into the pool, stealing the spectacle away from me.
In my lust-drunken state, I scrambled off of the couch and to the slider door, pressing my hands against the glass like a boy at the zoo. *Valerie— naked in my pool.* My thoughts had turned primitive— cavemanesque. An unconscious hand pulled the door open, and I found myself standing outside the next moment.
Valerie swam over to one side of the pool, bringing her chin and arms up over the edge of the wall. She hung on like that for a while, her glistening breasts pressing against the tile as she bobbed up and down. Her eyes were closed, her lips open, and her eyebrows slanted up toward her hairline. Her actions didn’t make sense to me until she started mewling like a kitten— breathing out soft, luxurious sighs. I realized then what she was up to. The little *vixen.*
The same jet I frequented for my upper back pain, was now being used to gratify her in ways I could barely stand to imagine. She looked utterly delectable under the pale moonlight— all skin, and breaths, and iridescent beads of water clinging to her. I had the strong urge to hop into the pool and get myself involved— but I had enough sense to know that it likely wouldn’t go over well. After all, I was just an old man. She’d never want me.
Then came the moment she discovered me. I felt like a horrible pervert when I saw how walleyed she went. I tried to downplay the situation, and I hoped I did it well enough to quell any feelings of discomfort on her end. *Why* had I watched her?
I had been a creep— that much I’m sure. My life had become so devoid of joy, that when presented with such a celestial moment, I threw my morals out the door and gave into perversion. I wished I could simply go back in time, before I’d wasted so many years being unhappy— back to a time where I could spend moonlit nights with a girl like Valerie.
After I’d gone inside, I sat in the bathroom with my head in my hands. I waited in there until I heard the door click, and the sound of Valerie’s feet on the stairs. Then I went back to a night spent on the couch.
**Valerie’s POV**
The trip to Cancún had me in a constant state of disillusionment. I had such high hopes for it, and had looked forward to it for so long, that the fact that it left me disappointed killed me.
Marcy and I hit trouble at every point in the trip— first there was a delay in the flight, then they lost my luggage, then we had trouble getting a hotel room. By the time we’d gone out to dinner the first night, I was already exhausted. The next few days were spent drunk on the beach, bar hopping, and mingling with other vacationers. One night, I found a guy that seemed like a decent lay, but when we got back to his hotel room, it was as if he couldn’t get his dick in me fast enough. There was no foreplay— he hardly even kissed me, or took any time to make me feel good. I could tell he was used to getting his pick of pretty girls, and the only thing on his mind was using my body to get off. The sex left me feeling down. I wanted a man that would *really* appreciate my body. I wanted someone to fuck me like they couldn’t get enough of me.
Vacations are supposed to relax you. They’re supposed to be a reprieve from the bleakness of everyday life. Cancún didn’t accomplish anything other than wasting my time, money, and giving me a sunburn. I was actually relieved when we stepped foot back onto US soil. I wanted nothing more than to return to my own bed, and the familiar buzz of my vibrator. At least *I* knew how to make myself feel good.
It was late when we’d gotten back— too late to drive the two hours back to our college. We decided to stop and spend the night at Marcy’s before driving back to the dorms in the morning. I was beyond excited to stay at her house. I thought maybe I could go for another night “swim”, and maybe, just *maybe,* have another encounter with Benjamin. My innocent crush on him had developed into something entirely different. I found myself thinking of him constantly since that night by the pool. I was full-blown obsessed with the man.
As we drove up to Marcy’s house, my excitement had only grown from a half-hour of fantasizing. I rushed out of the car to grab our bags, making Marcy laugh at my enthusiasm. She thought I was looking forward to smoking her weed, and had no idea that I was actually looking forward to seeing her sexy dad. We carried in our stuff, and found him sitting in the living room, his head stuck in a book. He glanced up at us, seeming surprised to see me there.
“How was the trip?” He asked.
“Good.” Marcy mumbled as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom. I lingered behind, staring at Benjamin. How haven’t I noticed the tattoo on his forearm? Or how strong his arms looked in general— I bet he could pick me up and shake me around without breaking a sweat.
He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Did you enjoy the trip, Valerie? You look like you got some sun.”
Just *talking* to him made me flustered. “It was nice.” I lied. “I’m happy to be back home though.”
“Mm.” He hummed in response. I could tell he didn’t know what to say to me. I hated that I was so young. I hated that he was married, and was my friend’s father. There were so many factors that would deter him from ever being interested in me. I was foolish to even entertain the idea. Marcy would kill me if she knew about this.
“What are you reading?” I asked him, stepping cautiously closer to the couch.
“I’m sorry?”
I repeated myself. My voice had been too quiet the first time, due to my timidity.
He glanced at the cover, as if he had forgotten what book he was just absorbed in. “Oh— it’s just this old war book, nothing too interesting.”
This time I hummed. Then we just stared at each other. It was so terribly awkward, and I felt stupid for interrupting his reading. He probably wanted me to leave so he could get back to his book. All I wanted was to just fall into his lap, wrap my arms around him, kiss him, and let him fuck me all night long. I wanted him so badly, it was killing me. I wished he wanted me too— but I was just his daughter’s friend— one he’d found being a little slut in his pool. I’m *so* stupid.
“Val! What’re you doing?” Marcy beckoned me from upstairs.
I looked down at my feet. “Nice talking to you, Mr. Larson.” I told him before walking toward the stairs.
“Valerie—” he said.
I turned back. “Yeah?”
“You can call me Ben.”
“Nice talking to you, Ben.” I smiled.
**Benjamin’s POV**
I slept fitfully that night. I kept thinking about Valerie, and the way the sun had brought a glow to her— the whisper of a tan line on her shoulder, the blush that settled into her high cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. I couldn’t get her off of my mind. Once I’d finally fallen asleep, I dreamed of her. The thought of her was like a drug to me. It was the only thought that didn’t depress me.
The following day, I woke up at dawn to get ready for work. I treaded from my (now permanent) place on the couch up to my bedroom, searching for my suit. “Turn that goddamned light off!” My wife seethed at me. I watched her throw the blanket over her face, and sighed. Then I went to dress myself in the guest bathroom downstairs. I had the fleeting desire to blow my brains out. That thought seemed to come to me most mornings. If I was dead, I could forget about work, my crumbling family, and Valerie. I’d never do it though. I’m too weak.
There was a light knock on the bathroom door then. I knew it wasn’t my wife, or Marcy— they’re more likely to pound and shout “hey asshole, I need to get in there”. It had to be Valerie. I straightened myself up in the mirror before opening the door.
Valerie looked soft with sleep. She brought her big brown eyes up and smiled lazily at me. “I’m sorry Mr. Lar- Ben.” She said, shaking her head. “I just needed my toothbrush.”
I stepped out of the way to let her in. “It’s all yours.”
I couldn’t help but take a look at her backside when she passed me by. She was wearing a tiny pair of white shorts, and a tight tank top. I could perfectly picture each and every curve that was hidden under those clothes. I wanted to bend her over the sink, and—
No. I can’t think those thoughts. I need to control myself.
But the thought of slipping between those two buttery thighs, listening to the coo of her moans in my ear—
**Valerie’s POV**
I wanted him to throw me up against a wall and fuck me senseless. I’m always *so* horny in the morning— and he’s *right* there— looking all sexy and coiffed in his suit and tie. He smells incredible too— I could smell his cologne lingering in the air of the bathroom. It drove me wild. I felt like a ravenous, unhinged animal. I didn’t just *want* him to fuck me. I *needed* him to.
If I really wanted this to happen, I’d have to make the first move. I don’t think he’d ever initiate it, considering his position. There’s a huge chance he’d reject me, which would be completely humiliating. Did I want it bad enough to chance that? I’d never feel comfortable coming around Marcy’s again knowing I’d tried and failed to seduce her father. I don’t think I’d be able to face him after that. The whole situation was too complicated, and filled with too many variables for my lust-addled brain to comb through.
As I reached out for the toothbrush I’d used as an excuse to see him, I wondered— *is it worth it? Or could I go on never knowing if fantasy could coincide with reality?* I peered back at him, lowering my hand. He was still in the doorway, looking at me. He perked up when we made eye contact.
“Sorry.” He nervously chuckled, walking away to give me privacy.
I jolted forward, spinning him back around by the shoulder. I think it was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. “Wait,” I stopped him, “stay.”
He arched a thick brow in question. I took a deep, shaky breath, and pulled him into the bathroom by his tie. He shot a hand back to close and *lock* the door behind him. We then stood closely, facing each other, breathing heavily. The both of us didn’t know exactly how to proceed. A line had just been crossed, and we were on the threshold of tipping into dangerous territory.
“What do you want from me?” He whispered down at me. I could practically *feel* the heat of his body radiating into me.
“Everything.” I breathed. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the shape of him. He was tall, and solid— he could snap me like a twig. His own hands moved to my sides—running slowly up and down—and then to my back, repeating the same motion. His touch felt so good, and relieved me in ways I never thought possible.
“Be more specific.” Ben said, cupping my cheek in his hand. “I need to know.”
I nuzzled into his big palm, appreciating the warmth of it. Was he really going to make me say it? I usually had no trouble talking dirty, but it felt different with him. I felt quite timid. “I’ve wanted you for so long— wanted to *feel* you for so long. It’s driving me crazy.” I said innocently, looking up at him. His dark eyes had narrowed sinfully at me. I cautiously moved my face closer, holding on to his shoulders and rising up on my toes. We pressed our foreheads together for a few bated moments before giving in. Then it was all lips, and breaths, and unexplored wonders.
Ben kissed me like it was his last day on earth. His mouth was forceful, passionate, and experienced. He threaded one hand through my hair, and pushed another behind my back, holding me taut against him. I let my fingers graze the front of his shirt—feeling the fabric, and hooking at his leather belt. It made me restless inside to feel his body right up against mine. I wanted to climb him like a tree.
“You have no idea-” he pulled his mouth away, peppering one side of my face and forehead with kisses. “How long-” he returned to my lips. “I’ve wanted to do this.” He said into my mouth. Lips gave way into tongues. I let mine dance over his, while his own flowed like warm honey— slow and caressing. When I reached down, I felt how hard he was. The discovery of this drove me mad with lust. Everything about me *ached* for him.
“Fuck me.” I begged him. “*Please* fuck me.”
His hand moved under my tank top. I felt the tips of his warm fingers skim my stomach. In response, I lifted my shirt off and tossed it somewhere behind me. His jaw clenched in an animalistic way as he took in the sight of my nude torso. He continued to kiss me while his hands roved over fresh skin. He squeezed at my breasts and kneaded my sensitive nipples. I whimpered, peeling my face away to watch his hands. We had backed ourselves into the countertop, the chill of it bit into my back.
“You’re going to make me late for work— you bad, bad girl.” He growled, sliding a hand over the front of my shorts. He put pressure on my clit with his thumb, and I instantly knitted my eyebrows, reveling in the sensations I’ve craved from him. He then snuck his hand under the waistband, cursing under his breath at the slickness of my pussy. Reaching back, I turned on the sink to muffle the sounds I couldn’t help but make— it roared behind me, hitting me with random droplets as I whined and begged for his fingers. He cocked two of them inside of me, filling me up in a way that I’d never be able to duplicate with my own tiny digits.
“Oh *Ben,*” I gasped, rolling my eyes back. He showed attention to my breasts with his hot mouth, sucking and nipping at my nipples. His fingers were exploring my pussy, running over my labia and clit and then back inside of me. I gripped the edge of the counter, turning my knuckles white.
We were both caught up in the desperate need for each other’s bodies. I couldn’t stand another moment of this teasing. I shakily worked off his belt, and he undid the rest for me. The moment his pants came down, I took his dick into my hand. It was thick and throbbing— the feel of it brought me another overwhelming wave of desire. I felt I might drop dead if he didn’t fuck me right then and there. I yanked down my shorts. With one strong heave, he hugged his arms around my hips and hoisted me onto the countertop. Hairspray and lotion bottles clattered to the floor as my back flattened against the mirror. Before I knew it, he had moved between my legs, threading the tip of his dick inside of me. He pushed in with a rough motion, filling me up with every inch of him. I gasped out and he groaned wantonly into my ear as he thrusted once, twice, and then fell into a rhythm that threatened to make me lose my entire soul to the man.
I tugged on his tie, directing his face to my neck. He sucked on it and bit at my earlobe, whispering dirty things while he fucked me. “Harder,” I gasped. “Fuck me harder.” I hooked my legs around his waist, and watched his hips shift, each thrust propelled me back into the mirror, and shook the cabinets beneath the sink. It felt so good, I could hardly stand it.
**Benjamin’s POV**
I couldn’t believe she wanted this.
Valerie’s body was woven from silk— everything about it was smooth and heavenly. She had perky, pear shaped tits that bounced each time I drove myself into her. Her thighs were thick, toned, and locked around my torso. She had the negative outline of a bikini in all the places the sun never reached— places I’ve wanted to devour, and fuck, and lose myself in for so long now. There was something about her that made me feel young again, and it brought out the animal in me.
“You like that?” I snarled, grabbing a fistful of tender, tanned thigh meat. “You like how I fuck your tight little pussy?” She nodded fervently. “You bad, *naughty* girl.” I closed my teeth gently around her earlobe, fighting the urge to bite the whole thing off.
Valerie made continuous, quick hums with an occasional open-mouthed gasp that threatened to throw me over the edge. She started rubbing her clitoris with polished fingers, moaning louder. “Shhhh.” I clasped a hand over her mouth. She maneuvered her lips around one of my fingers, sucking on it with hooded eyes. *Little vixen.* Then she opened her mouth again, my finger still on her tongue, as the speed of her hand increased. She panted and threw her head back as she came. Her muscles tensed up all around me, contracting and squeezing my cock. “*Fuck, Valerie— shit.*” I drawled, absolutely high from her body. I couldn’t last much longer. It was a miracle I’d made it that far.
“Cum in me.” She moaned. “I want to *feel* it.”
I then held onto her hips, focusing solely on the feel of her silken pussy— warm, and tight, and so damn *young.* I lost myself the very next moment. My movements hitched, and I felt waves of unimaginable pleasure as I filled her up with pulsing bursts. When I pulled out of her, I saw the evidence of what I’d just done leaking from her pink spread lips. Her chest rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, and she relaxed her back against the mirror. “*Wow.*” She breathed, running her hands through her dampened hair. Her legs were propped up on the countertop, her toes curled around the lip of it.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror then, my face was red, and my hand was on my cock. I was still the old man I was before. My senses returned to me. I had just cheated on my wife with my daughter’s friend— a girl thirty-three years younger than me.
What do we do now?
**Thank you for reading! Let me know if anyone wants a part two!**
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kw1p6l/bennie_and_the_jets_mf_caught_age_gap
Great story!!! I have had that fantasy a hundred times.
Oh my god please write a second part! That was so unbelievably hot