Dressing Room Blowjob [F18][Public Sex]

Wearing only her bra and thong, Diane stood in front of her closet and starred into the cavernous wooden coffin, packed to the gills with branded fashion. It offered her no solutions to the question she posed the plenum of carefully selected dernier cri.

“What do you wear to meet a man who left you before you were even born?” Diane asked her clothes a second time.

“Running shoes?” Devyn posed.

“HAHAHAHAHA! Oh my God! That was… brutal!” Diane gassed.

“Wear whatever you want, Diane. You are in charge. You decide how much you want to let him into your life. You can decide you never want to see him again, if that’s what you want,” Devyn reassured.

“You’re right!” Diane agreed and pulled out a drawer and selected a pair of Rag and Bone jeans that she particularly liked, a conservative, but fun, button-up blouse that looked fantastic on her and showed zero cleavage. Then, sitting in her desk chair, she laced up her new favorite chunky Simon Miller platform boots that her mother angrily called her about when she saw the six-hundred-dollar charge on her credit card statement.

“Diane, college isn’t a fashion show… we’re already paying over forty-thousand dollars to send you there!”

“Mom, it was a splurge! And I had to have them… You can borrow them when I’m home!”

Diane wore very light make-up and slid on her purse after tucking her Canada Goose jacket under her arm.

“I’m ready!” she announced to Devyn.

“Yah you are!” her roommate smiled back.

Diane walked out of her door and saw that Meredith was, again, perched in her chair by the doorway as if she had been waiting there, purposefully, for the opportunity at a brief exchange with Diane.

“Goodbye, Diane!” She blurted, nervously, while sitting cross-legged with a box of Chips Ahoy in her lap.

Diane smiled and waved, doing her best not to cringe. She had begun a friendship of sorts with the girl living across the hall. Originally, Diane had seen the girl struggling and thought she could help. Diane thought she had seen a previous version herself in Meredith; a friendless, timid, social castaway. Now, Diane was becoming concerned that Meredith’s problems were of a different sort than the oppressive bullying Diane had experienced in high school. She didn’t like how the girl looked at her with the same hungry, needful stare as the boys on campus.

“One problem at a time,” Diane whispered to herself, refocusing on how she was minutes away from being face to face with Jacob.

Before reaching the outer door, Diane could already feel the outdoor temperature and it was intolerably cold. Quickly putting on her coat, Diane basked in the radiating heat that was the fluffy jacket. Originally, she was not certain of the purchase as her incredible weight loss appeared to be completely nullified when donning the Eskimo attire. Wearing the bulky coat gave her tremendous emotional upheaval. It made her body resemble how it once was; bloated and bell-shaped. She had seen other girls wearing the brand and, in her estimation, with respect to bulky winter jackets, it was devilishly adorable, which comforted her enough to make the purchase. Looks aside, upon breaching the outer door, she was so pleased to be encapsulated in its envelope of warmth.

Diane was supposed to meet Jacob, her estranged biological father, at the top of the hour. She had arrived in the parking lot several minutes early, both in nervous anticipation of the event and due to the inescapable knowledge that she simply could not focus on anything else until the mystery of how she came to be was solved. Gazing into the densely packed lot, her eyes quickly fixed on a newer model, green seven-series BMW. The car peaked her interest because it was an aberration; students who had that kind of money, and there were plenty who did, would have selected a different style of vehicle as this one smacked of an older man’s taste. The overwhelming majority of the professors’ personal views were more in line with Karl Marx than Adam Smith and would consider it gauche to own such an excessively opulent resource. They preferred putting to and from campus in aging Volvo station wagons or, if they were so inclined to splurge on a new car, possibly after a successful book launch, would opt for something in the electric vehicle genre. This conveyance definitely belonged to a well-to-do parent, or possibly an alum.

In addition to the green sled being an oddity itself, the constant plume of white smoke billowing from the tailpipe was indicative of a motorist waiting inside, but to what end was unknown. Possibly they were on a call with their office and were pursuing a business opportunity whose completion was necessary to continue financing new German vehicles as well as their child’s private University tuition. It was also just as likely they had arrived early to visit their trustafarian progeny who was still in their room, agonizing over their social media presence, or the completion of a Minecraft project, unconcerned their benefactor was waiting downstairs. Certainly no one would have guessed it was a fifty-three-year-old man waiting to meet his estranged daughter for the first time. Especially where the daughter was one of the most discussed young women on campus, largely due to her uniquely stunning physical attractiveness.

Then, as Diane studied the vehicle from afar, the engine abruptly halted, and the door swung open. Emerging from the plush sedan was a dark-haired man with touches of grey at his temples wearing a sable woolen coat. Even from afar, Diane had no need to speculate. She had seen that face before; not in any pictures her mother had shown, Diane had seen that face every day of her life in the mirror. A shot of adrenaline ricocheted throughout her body, freezing her in terror.

Evidently, the man recognized his face in the young girl as well. He smiled, closed the door, and began walking towards the petrified Diane. As he approached, Diane remarked to herself that, even though the similarities between his face and hers would have been off-putting had she randomly encountered the man, he was, indeed remarkably handsome and a stark contrast in physical appearance to Tom, the man who raised her.

As far as Diane knew, Angela, her mother, had never worked a job since Diane had been born. Diane had incredibly detailed memories of her mother at home while Tom worked long hours at his law firm. The happy pair would watch endless television, especially during the winter months, and Diane was now recalling how her mother would swoon for the dashing men on the screen. She had forced Diane to watch older movies starring the likes of Robert Redford, Paul Newman, and especially Gregory Peck. Diane had seen ‘the Yearling’ dozens of times over the years. Angela, would always remark how handsome Gregory Peck was and that she loved him; a remark that Diane, as a child, found to be both silly and also enthralling as Angela would throw her head back at the end of each scene and exclaim, “Oh! How I love that man!” Then Diane recalled how her mother would always have a glass of wine when they watched his movies and how she would often weep in the middle of them. Now, in the parking lot of her University, Jacob, her biological father, who bore an exceptionally remarkable resemblance to the late Mr. Peck, was now only a few feet away.

“I knew it was you the instant you stepped out of the door!” he smiled.

His voice was warm and confident. His eyes cut right through her.

Panicking, Diane tried to speak but stumbled in search of words. Her initial thought was to say she recognized him as well, but then thought it too welcoming for this man she bore reservations. She then pivoted to a casual greeting but failed to execute on that as well.

“I… umm…. Yeah… how was your drive?” she finally stammered, then cursed herself for saying something so absurd and unrelated.

“I was on pins and needles the entire time,” he replied, smiling with his eyes. “I’ve been terrified to meet you. Terrified you’d just walk up to me and reject me. Terrified that you’d just be mad about the entire situation and blame me… and you wouldn’t be wrong to do so.”

Diane was astonished upon hearing what Jacob had said. Those were her fears as well, and, hearing them being addressed, openly and immediately, calmed her considerably.

“It’s been really confusing but I wasn’t going to meet you only to send you away. I want to understand… then I’ll send you away!” Diane joked and immediately regretting doing so as the man had just bared his soul and she was acting immaturely.

He smiled warmly and chuckled.

“How about we get out of the cold and sit down somewhere warm and indoors. May I take you out for a late lunch?”

 “That would be great!” Diane agreed, then followed him to the car where he opened the door for her in a very gentlemanly manner.

In her initial impression, Jacob had a gravitas about him that simply didn’t exist in Tom who preferred to attempt humor, if not always succeeding, opposed to staunch manliness. It was one of the things that really excited Diane about Marcus; the lack of silliness about him, unlike Tom. Tom wasn’t silly in the sense that he was highly adept at interacting with young children, biological or otherwise. Tom was a just a ridiculous man with respect to his overzealous mannerisms, his inappropriate remarks, and poor attempts at humor. If Tom had just been in Jacob’s position, meeting an estranged child, he would have made one of his ‘Dad jokes’ and said something resembling, “Can we wait a few more minutes outside… I’ve fathered a few other kids who also live in your dorm and they’re running late!” It would have made for an awful first impression.

As far as first impressions go, Jacob had adeptly calmed her nerves, made her smile, and was now whisking her away to lunch where Diane planned on giving him every consideration while listening to his version of the events that had transpired eighteen years ago. Inside Jacob’s car, Diane could smell the new leather of the seats intermingled with a very faint aftershave that Diane was convinced she had smelled recently in Nordstrom’s when she was attempting to select a scent she wanted Marcus to wear.

“I don’t know what it is… but when a man wears a suit and smells like this… I just… I can’t even!” Devyn exasperated with her nose pressed to a white cardboard tag doused with Tom Ford.

It was the tenth cardboard the girls had sniffed, and they were both highly sexually aroused from stimulating their olfactory with whiffs of masculine pheromones. Devyn’s nipples were erect and pushing through the thin material of her Veronica Beard blouse. Diane was wearing a libidinous one-piece romper that showed the smallest hint of the flesh comprising her impeccably shaped backside. More than one man had abruptly changed directions while walking, as if they were a bird of prey swooping upon seeing a mouse from afar, in order to trail the taut derrière that weaved through racks at Nordstrom while its young owner touched the materials of the various regalia. The men prayed for the girl to lean or stoop in a manner that expanded the tiny view her rising garment afforded them. All the while, the young mademoiselle’s thoughts were completely fixed on the quality of the garments and was oblivious to the men pretending the random path she walked somehow aligned with their own shopping agenda. Inevitably, while lying to themselves that, at any moment, they will have concocted the correct string of words to utter in front of the dazzling teenager that would yield them entry beyond the narrow view, the escaping temptress’ path would lead her to a athletic looking young man, with whom she would kiss, ending the pursuer’s visceral hopes.   

Marcus, Diane’s statuesque boyfriend, along with Devyn’s beau Aiden, had been dragged to the store with them, under protest, and Diane had been attempting to dress her man in Canali slacks.

“I just want you to try on these three… oh, and with this belt… and these two shirts, Marcus, ok?” Diane sang.

“Sure, babe,” he agreed, begrudgingly, while being eyed by the metrosexual employee in the manner an art curator might inspect the works of a long dead Flemish master as the canvases were being carefully removed from a crate.

Marcus trudged into the dressing room with the expensive clothes draped over his arm while wearing the sweatpants issued to him by the football team. A few moments later, he emerged wearing the Canali slacks and a Charles Tyrwhitt shirt.

“Do you have shoes he can wear?” Diane asked the male stylist.

“I may have the perfect shoes! What size is he… fourteen?” the stylist pressed.

“Yes! Fourteen,” Diane confirmed.

“MMmmm…,” the man murmured as if a yummy treat had been presented to him, then fetched a pair of light brown Church’s oxfords that seemed to be hidden away from the other shoes made available to men when standing in front of the mirror.

Marcus slipped on the shoes and the stylist, unprompted, tied them for him while tapering the material against his leg making Marcus quite uncomfortable. Diane, on the other hand, was thrilled to see the stylist primping her man.

“You look so hot!” Diane breathed.

“He could be the model for this line,” the stylist declared, stepping away and wrenching his face into a pucker of high approval. Then he re-engaged Marcus, adjusting his shirt so the buttons align with the belt buckle by dipping his fingers just below his waistline to make micro-adjustments. Marcus was visibly uncomfortable.

“I want to see him in the other slacks,” Diane concluded.

“Me too,” the stylist agreed.

“Which ones do you want me in?” Marcus asked aloud, to neither of them in particular.

The stylist defaulted to Diane, even though it seemed he wanted to answer.

“The darker ones,” Diane decided.

Marcus returned to the dressing room and Diane had a brief moment with the stylist when he turned to her and gently golf-clapped, while declaring, “Bravo! Bravo!” in a husky whisper.

Diane, feeling inspired by Marcus’ fashion show, texted Devyn:

*Distract Mario Cantone! Make him show Aiden something!*

*Who?* Devyn texted back.

Then Diane attached a picture of the comedian who resembled, both in features and mannerisms, the stylist who had been helping her and Marcus.

*Lol. Sure* Devyn replied.

Moments later, the pair walked into the men’s dressing room and the stylist eyes immediately fell on Devyn’s delicately good-looking boyfriend, Aiden.

Aiden, who always understood every social situation, didn’t need to be a prop on the subterfuge.

“I need something smart casual. I’d like to hear your recommendation,” he posed to the stylist.

“I’ll be right back!” he apologized to Diane then looked like he planned on locking elbows with Aiden as they headed back to the racks and shelves.

Counting on her friend to run the distraction, Diane sauntered down the row until she recognized Marcus’ hairy legs under the door.

“Open up, it’s me!” Diane whispered.

Marcus quickly opened the door, revealing he was only wearing boxer briefs, as Diane scuttled inside.

“The dark slacks…,” Diane whispered as she scooped up the pants and handed them to her man, who stepped into them, emotionless.

“The powder blue…,” she breathed, handing him the shirt, which he put on, buttoned, then tucked into the pant.

“And the tie…,” she intimated.

“Do I have to…,” Marcus groaned.

“Shh! Please baby!” she softly begged.

Marcus took two tries to create a Windsor know in the powder blue tie, which the stylist had matched with the shirt.

“Mmmmmm,” Diane hummed, licking her lips.

Marcus was not amused at all; he had grown tired of the shopping trip well before this latest wardrobe change and was ready to be back on campus.

Then, Diane reached behind her neck and unfastened the zipper of her one-piece romper and pulled the top half down, exposing her bare breasts.

Marcus was instantly startled by the surprising turn of events. To the young man, trying on clothes smacked of a chore his mother would make him do and, in no way, did he find the event anything but tedious.  

“Babe!” Marcus whispered.

“Shhhhh” Diane murmured while placing her hand onto the crotch of Marcus’ expensive slacks and fondling his flaccid cock through the material.

Diane stepped out of her Esattos, slid them both onto wall hooks in the spacious dressing room. Then climbed into the chair to sit cross-legged, so as to hide her feet from passersby who had a plain view into the floor of the cubbyhole. Then she reached out, grabbed Marcus by a belt loop, and pulled him into her so she could unzip the expensive trousers.

“Babe!” Marcus urgently whispered but she wasn’t listening.

Fishing inside, the topless girl found the opening to the envelope that was the young man’s boxers and pulled out his sleeping manhood. She looked up at him for a moment. He was dashing in his ensemble, except for the absurd expression on his face, as he stood in the room, fully clothed with his penis hanging out the open zipper. His eyes nervously darted to the door that precariously ended at knee level. On the other sides of the wooden panels, the rustling of belts and the sliding of limbs into cotton and wool was occasionally broken up by a throat clearing or employee directing a patron into a cubby. The unmistakable odor of department store; a mix of new shoe leather, costly fabric, and cologne pervaded the entire booth. Marcus gulped while Diane, holding both of her breasts, leaned forward to wrap her lips around the dangling head. She was intent on breathing life into the timid appendage.

“Babe!” Marcus whispered again.

Diane stopped cupping her breasts in order to take the cock out of her mouth and briefly hold it.

“Be quick!” she whispered back, devil in her eyes.

Before Marcus had a moment to respond, she carefully peeled the metal zipper back, to protect the soft pink flesh from its hungry teeth, then swallowed the cock whole again. Diane put tremendous pressure on the head while using her fingers to coax her man erect. Marcus embraced the amazing, albeit terrifying, reality that he could not dissuade his woman from her present course of action and detach from his cock. He exhaled out of his nose, focused, reached down to fondle one of Diane’s massive breasts, and his erection expanded until the majority of his veiny shaft was too large to completely fit and spilled out of the lipstick glazed smile on his sweetheart’s enchanting face.

Concentrating her mouth on just the tip, Diane quickly stroked as silently as she could while fighting the urge to moan from her man groping her bare breast.

It was an incredible turn-on for Diane on several levels. Ever since losing the weight and discovering she was beautiful, Diane’s visits to the high-end department store had become an aphrodisiac. Her entire persona could be transformed by donning a new outfit and the compliments rained on her by flamboyant male stylists were food for her soul. Seeing her man perform the same magic trick, instantly transforming from hunky college guy into soigné man on the town, stirred her inside and she decided not to shun her desire and to suck his cock. A year ago, had the obese version of herself seen Marcus, dressed immaculately, tall and gorgeous, she would have wished, with all her heart, that one day, she would have any level of affiliation with such a man. Those days, Diane was intimidated to simply be at a Nordstrom, let alone enlist a well-dressed stylist to assist in the process. Old Diane and the current alike, luxuriated in fellating her dream man in that moment that was even too fantastic to conjure those short few months ago.

“Do the black Canali’s fit? Do you want a different size?” the stylist called from the other side of the flimsy wooden door.

“Trying them on now… tell you shortly…,” Marcus stumbled.

Diane stopped stroking while the stylist was less than two feet away, but she never reduced the pressure of her suckling on the throbbing head.

“Are you ok?” the man asked, raising the tone of his voice.

“Yeah… yeah… almost done…,” Marcus replied, realizing he did not have the wherewithal to speak at that moment and had literally just told the man, quite by accident, how close he was to orgasming.

Diane listened to his footsteps trail away and decided she needed to wrap up this impromptu blowjob and resumed her fast stroking. Not caring about the increased level of noise, she rapidly stroked her man’s thick shaft while dancing her tongue on his frenulum while sucking.  

“Haaaar…haaaar… sssssss…,” Marcus breathed as his cock began to quiver.

In anticipation of her man’s imminent unleashing of his seed, Diane carefully wrapped her lips an inch down his shaft, making certain to form a tight seal to prevent errant semen from escaping and soiling Marcus’ upscale outfit. With the tight seal formed, she played a violin concerto with her tongue on the tiny string that was her man’s frenulum while continuing to coax with her small hands encouraging the shaft.

“MMM… MMM… MNNMNMNNN!” Marcus let out a muffled grunt as he began ejaculating into Diane’s mouth.

Diane struggled to swallow the rapidly expelled sperm. Each burst was hitting her in the back of the throat and the temptation to cough and choke on the hot, spraying liquid was intense.

“NNnnnmmmm…,” Marcus trailed as the spurts became smaller and more manageable.

As the penis began to shrink, Diane pulled the cock out of her mouth and squeezed the shaft terribly hard.

“RRRRrrrr!” Marcus sounded, feeling slight pain, as a fat wad of semen held a spherical shape at the very aperture of his urethra.

Diane marveled at the plump, cloudy-white drop that seemed to defy gravity, sitting on the tip of Marcus’ cock. Then, fearing the driblet was not long for the world, she dexterously set about its capture. Carefully cupping under her breast, Diane raised her nipple to meet the droplet, cleanly transferring it to her pink, erect bud. Using one finger, Diane smeared the cum on her nipple, coating it nicely, and had enough residue left on her fingertip to treat the other nipple with a partial veneer of her man’s DNA. Then, without fanfare, Diane fed her arms through the loops to pull the top of her romper back on, zipped up the back, kissed the tip of her man’s flaccid penis, then retrieved her shoes.

“Zip up before I open the door?” she asked the man, lost in his own post-orgasm bliss.

Acting with barely any recognition, Marcus returned his flaccid penis to its storage and zipped up.

“Come on,” Diane insisted, and Marcus followed her to the platform of mirrors at the end of the dressing room.

Waiting for them, standing impatiently, was the stylist who no longer smiled and flirted with Marcus, nor bonded with Diane.

“I can box all of these up when you’re ready,” he curtly told Diane.

“Umm… I don’t know if we’re getting them all,” Diane shot back, acting slightly offended.

The man’s face dropped into an annoyed grimace and held the disappointed look for several seconds. Then, he walked immediately next to the stunned teen to whisper in her ear, while Marcus looked on, nervously captivated.

“You’ll be purchasing EVERYTHING that was in the booth when you two were in there… DO NOT try me!” he breathed, menacingly.

Diane looked to him, considering pressing the issue, but his livid eyes told her not too.

“Can you hang the slacks?” Diane asked, agreeing to pay, but negotiating on the terms.

“You’ll get what you get,” he snapped then marched into the dressing room to collect the outfits.

“I don’t care… I want you to dress in these clothes when we go out,” Diane affirmed, turning to her man who had stood on the platform, sheepishly watching.

“I know you love these fancy clothes, but I don’t have enough on my bank card to buy them, babe,” Marcus confessed.

“I’ll buy them so you can take me on a date wearing them.”

“Next weekend… after you meet… that guy you’re meeting… your father, I guess… I’ll get my parents to put some more cash in my account… plus I’m getting my work-study check… and we’ll go somewhere fancy enough to wear these clothes… I know you’re dying to wear some slinky outfit at an upscale place…” Marcus smiled.  

“I love you,” Diane murmured, almost crying.

“I love you too, babe.”

Diane thought of that moment when she saw Jacob dressed in a slightly older but equally debonair attire as she had purchased for her man. Except Jacob arrived already wearing an outfit that implied the seriousness and purposefulness of their meeting. Diane was now wishing she had worn a dress and heels.

“There’s not much for restaurants around here so I made two reservations… Asian fusion or Italian?”

*This is how a man makes plans*! Diane cheered in her head, remembering how Brian had picked her up and tried to buy her a candy bar at CVS.

“Is the Italian restaurant Fellini? Because I’ve been there once.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s do the fusion,” Diane replied, smiling.

They arrived and were seated in the mostly empty restaurant right away. Diane had been concerned, at first, that people would think she was on a date with an older man as she feared that her awkwardness from the situation would scream first date and not the impossible to guess truth. However, Jacob’s mannerisms with Diane were very fatherly, especially in his tone of voice, which made her quite comfortable, alleviating all of her concerns.

“Glass of wine?” Jacob offered Diane.

“Please,” she accepted which made her felt very grown up.

“My daughter and I will both have a glass of the Russian River Chardonnay,” Jacob told the waiter in his cool and confident manner. The waiter never even considered asking to see Diane’s identification. Diane hardly even noticed that she was about to have her first alcoholic drink in a restaurant; she was too distracted by Jacob calling her his daughter.

Once the wine arrived, Jacob asked the waiter to give them some time before returning to select their entrées.

“My mother told me what happened… will you tell me your version of the story?” Diane asked, not wanting to offer any details for Jacob to correlate or contradict.

“Of course,” Jacob replied. “Diane… you’re out in the world and I’m sure you’re dating… is that true?”

“It is,” Diane agreed, offering no more details even though she usually jumped at the chance to talk about Marcus.

“Have you ever met someone and, when you first meet them, you’re convinced that this person is the greatest… the most wonderful person you’ve ever met and you’re certain that you’ve found your true love?”

Diane didn’t respond verbally, she just nodded in agreement that such a scenario was possible.

“Angela and I had an amazing few months and, for a bit, I thought we’d be together forever… but the relationship was starting to cool off… every relationship has an expiration date… it could be five days, five months, five years or fifty… So, we took a vacation in Belize to see if we could rekindle that spark… that’s where we got pregnant, in case you ever wanted to know.”

Diane rolled that piece of information around in her mind, not knowing what to do with it.

“When your mother told me she was pregnant, she also demanded that I propose… I told her the truth, that I wasn’t in love and she didn’t believe me. She’d disappear for a few days and then ask me if I was ready to get married… this happened a few times… then she disappeared altogether. I called and texted Angela a thousand times… I didn’t even know when you were born, or what she named you… Then I find out that this guy, Tom, I was friends with from law school… I played squash with him at the club all the time which is where he met Angela… was living with your mother and raising you. So, I called him and we met up… he told me he was in love with Angela and that I should never contact them about seeing you… I told Tom that I had a right to see you… he said I had no right and that you were his legal daughter… then I told Tom he was making a mistake and that Angela would get bored with him… and he tried to punch me saying to leave them be and not take Angela away from him… Next thing I know I’m being served with a restraining order. Over the years, I took him to court a half dozen times to just have the right to see you… we both spent a fortune in family court. It was awful… but now you’re an adult and it’s your decision if you want to get to know me.”

Diane wanted to cry she was so spun up emotionally. She sipped from her wine but there was not enough alcohol in the glass or time for it to seep into her blood stream in order to adequately dull the pain she was feeling. Listening to Jacob, she knew everything he said was true. Everything from her childhood finally made sense. Tom, the man who raised her, loved Diane’s mother, but Angela did not reciprocate that love and had resigned to staying in the relationship once she had Diane’s brother. Maybe she was afraid of being alone. Tom had showered Diane with the same anxiety-laced love he had heaped upon her mother. Tom was a good man, and he was just trying to protect himself from losing Angela, but he was also protecting Diane from a truth that she now knew was too much for her younger, less confident self to manage.

“I understand,” Diane finally responded to Jacob.

Then Diane pulled out her phone and texted Marcus, asking him to come to the restaurant immediately and dress nice. It was her original plan to meet Jacob alone for the first time and not involve Marcus. Now that she was overrun with emotions, the only thing she truly was certain of was that she needed her love to be by her side at that very moment.

“Can we hold off on ordering our entrees? I want you to meet my boyfriend, the man I love,” Diane asked.

“Of course, but, before he arrives, I need to show you something,” Jacob replied.

“Oh?”

Jacob took out his phone and dragged his finger across the screen several times before handing it to Diane.

Holding the phone, Diane was staring at a picture of two dark haired girls. One was in her early teens and the other ten or eleven. They were adorably pretty, and Diane’s first thought was how those two girls were destined to break a million hearts each. Suddenly, Diane gasped when she realized what she was looking at.

“Are these my sisters?” she exclaimed.

“The older one is Alexis, and the younger is Riley… and yes, they’re your sisters… and I’d like you to meet them,” he smiled.

Diane’s heart exploded in her chest with love and sheer excitement. She had always wanted a sister and loathed having to spend so much time with her younger brother who was only interested in playing homicidal video games with sticky fingers. Now she had two sisters. Then, a deep sadness spread over Diane’s face.

“I wish I had known them sooner!” she sighed.

“They would have been so lucky to have you as a big sister, but it is far from too late,” Jacob encouraged.

“I’m really happy we did this,” Diane revealed.

“Me too,” Jacob agreed.

Within twenty minutes, Marcus arrived wearing the exact outfit that he had worn in the dressing room with Diane. The swiftness with which he arrived was remarkable and Diane knew he would routinely get prepared for going out in a matter of minutes, but she knew he rushed to be with her. Marcus was well aware of how important this event was to his girlfriend and his haste gave her such relief.

“Marcus, I want you to meet Jacob, my father,” Diane said, steadying her nerves.

Jacob and Marcus stood a foot from each other and shook each other’s hand, firmly, masculinely. Marcus looked like a younger version of Jacob. It was almost as if he were also meeting his estranged father for the first time.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Marcus stated confidently while making eye contact.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jacob replied, earnestly.

To be continued…

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/nnu7e4/dressing_room_blowjob_f18public_sex