Breaking point

Carol showed up at the house unannounced on Saturday afternoon.

She'd planned it carefully—knew Kate had that thing with her mom this weekend, some shopping trip and lunch that would keep her occupied for hours. Knew Mr. Rich would be home alone. She'd spent the past three days thinking about nothing else, rehearsing what she'd say, how she'd act, running through a dozen different scenarios for how this could go.

She'd barely slept. Barely eaten. The want had consumed her until there was nothing left but this—this need to know, to act, to end the uncertainty one way or another.

But when he opened the door, all her preparation evaporated like morning mist.

He stood there in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders in ways that made her mouth go dry. His hair was slightly damp, like he'd just showered, and she could smell his soap—something clean and masculine that made her want to press her face against his neck and breathe him in. He looked at her with surprise that quickly shifted to something else. Something darker. Something that matched the heat pooling low in her belly.

"Carol," he said, and her name came out rougher than it should have, like gravel and honey mixed together. "Kate's not here."

Carol's heart hammered against her ribs. This was it. The moment where she either backed down or crossed a line there would be no uncrossing.

"I know," she said, meeting his eyes and refusing to look away. "I came to see you."

For a moment, neither of them moved. She watched something war across his face—surprise, desire, resistance, all flickering past too quickly to catch. But she saw the want there too. Saw it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for her.

She'd never felt this bold in her entire life. Carol had always been careful, cautious, the good girl who followed the rules and never caused problems. But after days of thinking about him, days of wanting him so badly it hurt, days of avoiding him because she was terrified of what she might do—she couldn't take it anymore.

She needed him. Needed to fuck him. Maybe after she did, this obsession would loosen its grip. Maybe once she had him, the fantasy would lose its power and she could move on with her life.

Or maybe it would only make things worse.

Either way, she had to know.

Carol pushed past him and entered the house. The familiarity of it struck her—how many times had she walked through this door? How many afternoons had she spent here, pretending everything was normal while desire burned through her veins?

She stood in the entryway, turning to face him. He'd closed the door and was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. Caution mixed with curiosity mixed with something that looked dangerously close to hunger.

"May I help you with something?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. Playing it safe. Giving them both an out.

Carol didn't want an out.

She didn't say anything. Words felt inadequate for what she needed to communicate. Instead, she walked toward him, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his.

He moved back as she came closer.

The retreat made her feel powerful in a way she'd never experienced before. She could see the want in his eyes, see him struggling with it, and she continued forward until he had his back pressed against the wall with nowhere left to go.

"Carol," he said, and there was a warning in his voice. "What are you doing?"

She still didn't answer. Her hands went to his belt buckle, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Carol—"

She wasn't going to kiss him. Kissing gave him an opportunity to pull back, to push her away, to be the responsible adult and stop this before it started. She couldn't risk that. So instead, she knelt between his legs, her fingers working his belt with a confidence she didn't entirely feel.

She worked in silence because she didn't trust her words. Didn't trust herself not to beg or plead or say something that would shatter the spell. And she didn't want to think—thinking would remind her of all the reasons this was wrong, and right now she needed it to be right.

She pulled out his dick, looking at it up close, the size scared her, she didn’t expect it to be this big, she could see his precum glistening, she used the tip of her tongue to lick it, she heard him take a deep breathe and whisper “Fuck” and she could feel the smile on her face, she took him into her mouth, licking and sucking the length of him, she felt his hand in her hair, egging her own, her jaw hurt, her throat hurt,she didn’t stop, she didn’t want to, and then she felt the warmth of his cum on her tongue, she felt him pull her up “why did you do that?” He asked before smashing his mouth against hers.

She released a sigh of relief, she was scared he would reject her, but feeling his mouth on hers right now, her audacity was worth it, she kissed him like her life depended on it, she held on to him and wrapped her legs around him he kissed her back like she was going to run away, she pulled back and said “Mr. Rich, I have wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you,” “Carol, you were 15 the first time you saw me” he said. She smiled seductively, grinding on his dick, he tried to put her down, but she held on tighter “If you don’t stop doing that, I wouldn’t be able to control myself”

“I don’t want you to control yourself “Mr. Rich”

JAMES POV

I should have stopped her.

The thought screamed through my mind even as Carol's mouth worked magic that short-circuited every rational impulse I possessed. I should have stopped her the moment she walked toward me with that look in her eyes. Should have stopped her when her hands went to my belt. Should have been the adult, the responsible one, the person who knew better.

But I didn't stop her.

I let her kneel before me. Let her take me in her mouth. Let myself thread my fingers through her hair while she did things that made coherent thought impossible.

And when I came, when I felt that release I'd been denying myself for days, I knew with absolute certainty that I'd just crossed a line I could never uncross.

I pulled her up roughly—too roughly, but I needed her mouth on mine, needed to taste myself on her tongue, needed to claim this moment before reality came crashing back down.

"Why did you do that?" I asked against her lips, and then I was kissing her before she could answer.

She made a sound—relief, maybe, or satisfaction—and kissed me back like I was oxygen and she'd been drowning. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her legs around my waist, and she clung to me with a desperation that matched my own.

I kissed her like she might disappear if I stopped. Like this might be the only chance I'd ever get. Like I hadn't spent the past three days trying to convince myself that wanting her was wrong.

When she pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with desire that hadn't been satisfied yet. "Mr. Rich," she said, slightly breathless, "I have wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you."

The words hit me like cold water.

"Carol," I said carefully, trying to find some semblance of control. "You were fifteen the first time you saw me."

She smiled—seductive, dangerous, nothing like the shy girl who used to do homework with my daughter in the living room. She ground against me, and I felt myself getting hard again despite having just come.

"Stop," I said, trying to put her down, but she held on tighter, her legs locked around my waist.

"If you don't stop doing that," I warned, my voice strained, "I won't be able to control myself."

"I don't want you to control yourself, Mr. Rich." The way she said my name—like a challenge, like an invitation—nearly broke me.

But then reality reasserted itself with brutal clarity.

"Kate will be back soon," I said, and I hated how my voice sounded. Hated that it was the thought of my daughter that finally gave me the strength to resist.

That did the trick. Carol's grip loosened, and I set her down carefully. She immediately looked away, suddenly uncertain, the boldness from moments ago evaporating as the weight of what we'd just done settled over both of us.

I should say something. Should address this, set boundaries, explain all the reasons we couldn't do this again. Should be the adult I was supposed to be.

But I didn't want to be the adult right now.

I wanted to take her upstairs to my bedroom and show her exactly what she'd started. Wanted to strip that dress off her body and make her come until she forgot her own name. Wanted to fuck her in my bed, on my couch, against every wall in this house until this hunger was finally satisfied.

"Carol," I started, but I didn't know how to finish the sentence.

She risked a glance at me, and I saw vulnerability there beneath the desire. Saw the girl who was Kate's best friend, who'd been coming to this house for years, who was nineteen years old and had just done something incredibly reckless.

The guilt tried to surface, but I shoved it down. I could feel guilty later. Right now, I needed to figure out what happened next.

"We need to talk about this," I said finally.

"I know." Her voice was small. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Don't apologize." The words came out sharper than I intended. "Don't you dare apologize for that."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"But we do need to establish some ground rules," I continued, trying to sound rational despite the fact that my body was screaming at me to forget about rules and take what I wanted. "Kate can't know about this. Ever. Do you understand?"

Carol nodded.

"And this—whatever this is—it's complicated. You're young, you're her best friend, there are a thousand reasons this is a terrible idea."

"I know all that," Carol said, and there was steel in her voice now. "I've spent three days thinking about nothing but all the reasons this is wrong. But I don't care anymore, Mr. Rich. I want you. And unless you're about to tell me you don't want me back, I'm not going anywhere."

The challenge hung in the air between us. I could end this right now. Could send her home, could pretend this never happened, could go back to being Kate's father and nothing more.

Instead, I closed the distance between us and kissed her again, slower this time, deliberately. Letting her feel exactly how much I wanted her.

When I pulled back, her eyes were glazed, her breathing shallow.

"Kate won't be home for at least three more hours," I said quietly. "And we have a lot to discuss about boundaries and discretion and how this is going to work."

"Okay," Carol whispered.

"But first," I continued, letting my hand trail down her side, feeling her shiver under my touch, "I'm going to take you upstairs and show you exactly what you've been asking for."

The smile that spread across her face was pure satisfaction.

I'd crossed the line. There was no going back now. All I could do was make sure we didn't get caught and hope that this hunger—this consuming, dangerous desire—would eventually burn itself out.

Though looking at Carol, seeing the want in her eyes that matched my own, I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

Or better.

Depending on how you looked at it.