Bad Mistake

He pulled himself out of me, and I turned to him and knelt. He stroked his cock. “Stick out your tongue. You’re going to swallow for me.”

My toes curled. I gazed up at him, fingers rubbing my clit. He took my chin in his hand, and I opened my mouth. His cum sprayed over my face, completely missing my mouth. When he released my jaw, I wiped his cum off with my fingers and sucked them into my mouth.

He smirked down at me and pinched both of my nipples in his fingers, pulling me up. I stumbled back onto the bed. He pushed his fingers inside of me again.

Someone knocked on my door.

“How’s everything coming along in there?” Dad asked.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my moans, and dug my nails into his shoulders. He pounded his fingers deeper inside of me. I arched my back and threw my head back.

“It’s coming along.” Mr. Williams chuckled. My fingers dug deeper into his skin as I desperately tried to keep my moans quiet. “Isn’t it, Mila?”

My legs trembled as the pleasure pulsed out of me. “Yes,” I said.

I listened—quite distantly—to Dad’s footsteps padding away. And when he did, I sank into the bed and took a deep breath. This was definitely not how I was expecting this night to go.

When we finished, we walked back down to the dining room as if nothing had happened.

Dad smiled at me as we entered. “Did you finish?”

My face flushed red, and I nodded my head. “Yeah, Mr. Williams is going to have to help me more often. He is really great at it.”

I sat back down, and he took his seat as well.

Dad turned to Mr. Williams. “Would you mind if I saw those pictures Mila sent you of her photography? I know you love buying new artwork and commissioning photography, but I didn’t know my daughter was such an artist, and I want to see more.”

Mr. Williams smirked across the table at me.

“Dad, you don’t want to see them,” I said, digging my fingers into my palms.

Mr. Williams took out his phone. “Come on, Mila. Have some confidence in yourself. They are amazing.”

I sat in my Entrepreneurship Intermediate class, watching Professor Reynolds prepare the materials for today’s class.

It was a Saturday morning, and Reynolds decided to tell us last minute that we’d get extra credit for attending a guest lecturer’s presentation this morning. About half the class was there, a good twenty-five people in the decent-sized classroom.

Most didn’t need to be here, but I did. Not because I wanted to, but because I needed the extra credit. I had been sliding by with a C-minus all semester—and that was me trying really, really hard. Studying for hours every night.

Listening intently to every single lecture. I just sucked at taking the exams, which was killing me.

“He should be here any minute now,” Professor Reynolds said, gazing down at his watch.

I tapped my thumb against my phone screen, staring between it and the door. Everett was supposed to be here, enduring this stupid hour-long lecture with me.

The screen lit up, no messages on it, making me excited for no reason at all. I pressed my thumb to the home button and opened my messages, gaze lingering on his.

It had been one long week since Mr. Williams had dinner at my house, had come into my room, and had fucked me hard while my whole family sat at the kitchen table.

He hadn’t asked for another picture. He hadn’t asked for me to text him again. Everything was too silent from him, and that made my heart race. Every night, I waited for Dad to say something to me about him, but he hadn’t said a single word.

Wetness pooled between my legs as I stared at all the messages we had sent back and forth. The pictures of me topless and on my knees for him.

My whole naked body on full display for him to jerk off to every night. His hand around his big cock, stroking it to me, thinking about the way he felt inside of me, pumping in and out and in and out, faster and faster. Tugging on my nipples. Touching my clit.

I closed my eyes, the pressure in my core building higher and higher, and I hadn’t even touched myself yet. The door opened, and I tried my hardest to push away the dirty thoughts of Everett’s dad when I was about to see Everett.

After opening my eyes, I smiled widely at Everett, who strolled into the room with Mr. Williams. Mr. Williams’s gaze shifted around the entire room, then eventually landed on me. His eyes lit up for the briefest moment, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk.

I pressed my lips together. He was our guest speaker? Great. Great. Great. I tore my gaze away from him, pinning a tight smile on my face when Everett slid into the seat next to me.

“Hey, babe.”

Babe. The nickname he gave everyone who was even remotely attractive to him.

“Your dad is the guest speaker?” I asked, brows furrowed together.

He rolled his eyes, leaned back in his seat, and crossed his big arms over one another, making his biceps bulge.

“Yep.”

From his one-worded response, I could tell that he didn’t particularly like that fact. Everett wasn’t close to failing this class, but his father must’ve made him come.

Professor Reynolds and Mr. Williams spoke for a few moments in the front of the room. I grasped my phone hard in my hand until my knuckles turned white.

This was not how I was expecting my day to start out. I just wanted a relaxing Saturday for the first time since this semester started. Not one where I was flustered for a whole hour.

I couldn’t ignore the warmth pooling between my legs.