Dripping for My Mom's Fiancé II

Chapter 2: A taste of temptation

We stood side by side at the kitchen counter working on the dough, and the unspoken tension kept increasing. Every little move I made turned into some kind of forbidden teasing. I had brushed my hip against his thigh when I reached for the flour. I let my arm slide along his while we kneaded the dough. And I even pressed my breasts lightly against his bicep when I leaned in closer. Every touch I did made my pussy throb more. I was already soaked, and my bare folds were slippery and aching under that tiny skirt with no panties on.

Marcus tried hard to stay focused on the doughty but I noticed every reaction from him. His jaw would clench tight whenever my nipple grazed his arm through the thin crop top. His Adam’s apple would bob hard every time I rubbed my body against him. His breathing grew heavier and I could see the front of his jeans starting to bulge. Knowing I was doing this to him, my mom’s fiancé, made me even wetter. And I could even feel my juices trail down my thighs.

After a few more minutes of this slow teasing, I needed to get the big glass bowl from the top shelf. And even on my tiptoes I could not quite reach it.

“A little help here?” I asked sweetly, stretching up so my short skirt rode higher on my thighs.

Marcus stepped right behind me. His tall body pressed agained me and his chest brushed my back as he reached up easily for the bowl. The heat coming off him felt overwhelming. And I could not resist to feel him more. I arched my back a little and pressed my ass back against the hard bulge in his jeans, rubbing slowly and deliberately along the thick length of his cock. His cock twitched hard against me, not just once but thrice.

“Fuck,” he breathed, the word hot against my ear. And that was all it tooIs for his control to brake completely.

He set the bowl down on the counter and spun me around in one smooth motion. Before I could even catch my breath he lifted me onto the counter, my ass landing on the cool surface as my skirt bunched up around my waist. His mouth came down on mine in a hungry kiss. It was deep and so desperate, nothing like the careful man who had proposed to my mom. His tongue pushed past my lips and claimed me while his big hands yanked my thighs wide apart.

“Jesus Christ, look at you,” he growled against my mouth, his voice low and rough. “No panties, with your little pussy dripping for me.”

Two thick fingers of his slid through my soaked folds, spreading my wetness before he pushed them deep inside me. I moaned into the kiss as he stretched my tight walls and curled those long fingers right against my G-spot. He started pumping them slowly at first, then faster. The wet filthy sounds of my creamy pussy filled the kitchen. His thumb found my swollen clit and rubbed it firmly, withsteady circles that sent jolts of pleasure through my whole body.

“You are so fucking wet,” he muttered, biting my lower lip gently. “This tight little cunt is sucking my fingers in like it is starving for cock.”

He added a third finger, stretching me wider and fucking me deeper while his mouth moved down to suck hard on my neck, leaving a mark I would have to hide later. My hips rocked against his hand, chasing every thrust. My juices coated his fingers and dripped down onto the counter, making everything slick and messy. The pleasure built fast and so hot in my belly. My clit throbbed under his thumb and my walls fluttered around his thick fingers.

“Marcus… oh god, do not stop,” I whimpered, my hands gripping his shoulders tight, my nails digging in.

He kissed me harder, his tongue moving in time with his fingers plunging into my pussy. Then he pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with lust. “I am going to fuck you right here, Lila. I am going to bury every inch of my cock in this dripping pussy and ruin you for anyone else.”

He yanked his belt open with his free hand and shoved his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang out, massive and thick, the swollen head already leaking pre-cum. It looked almost too big, but I was so wet and ready that my pussy clenched with pure need at the sight.

He stroked his heavy shaft once and lined the fat head up with my entrance. The hot blunt tip pressed against my slick folds, spreading them open. Just as the head began to slip into me we heard the front door open downstairs.

“Lila? I am back. Got off early, thank God.” Mom’s cheerful tired voice drifted from the hallway.

Marcus froze, his massive cock still pressed right against my entrance, the head nudging inside me and throbbing hotly. For a heartbeat we stared at each other, and there was panic and raw lust mixing in his eyes.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath.

He pulled back quickly. His cock slipped away from my aching pussy with a wet sound. Wincing, he shoved his massive leaking dick back into his jeans, struggling to tuck the thick length away and buckle up fast. His hands shook a little from the effort of stopping.

I slid off the counter with shaky legs. My thighs were slick with my own juices. I yanked my skirt down, smoothed my crop top, and quickly ran my fingers through my messy hair, trying to look normal even though my pussy was still pulsing and empty.

By the time Mom’s footsteps reached the kitchen we were standing a safe distance apart, pretending to focus on the dough again.

“Hey, you two,” Mom said brightly as she walked in and set her bag down. “Smells amazing in here. What are you making?”

Marcus cleared his throat, his voice a little hoarse but steady. “Pasta. Thought I would surprise you.”

I forced a smile, my heart still racing. “Yeah… we were just getting started.”

But down there, my pussy was dripping and aching for the cock that had almost been inside me.