Mr. Harlan was my mother’s closest friend. Forty-seven years old, tall, broad-shouldered, with that quiet confidence older men sometimes have. He had been coming to our house for years, but it was only after I turned twenty-one that the way he looked at me changed. Or maybe I just started noticing it more. Or maybe I started giving him something to look at.
I liked the way his eyes moved over me.
I stopped wearing bras around the house when I knew he was coming. Thin tank tops that clung to my tits and showed the exact shape of my nipples when the air conditioning hit them. Shorts so short the bottom curves of my ass hung out every time I bent over. Sometimes I didn’t bother with shorts at all—just one of my oversized t-shirts that barely covered my pussy when I sat down. I would stretch on the living room floor while he and my mom talked, legs open just enough. I would walk past him to the kitchen and feel his gaze follow the sway of my hips.
He never said anything. He just looked. Slow, heavy looks that made my cunt get wet. I started timing my showers so I would come out in only a towel while he was still there. I would “accidentally” let the towel slip a little too low. Once I walked into the living room with it wrapped loosely around me and it opened completely for half a second before I closed it again. His jaw tightened. My pussy clenched.
I wanted him.
I had seen the outline of his cock once when he stood up too fast after sitting for a long time. Thick. Long. Heavy. The kind of cock that looked like it would stretch a girl open and leave her limping. I thought about it at night with my fingers inside myself. I thought about sucking it. I thought about him holding me down and using me while my mother was in the other room.
The day it finally happened, my mother had gone to visit her sister for the afternoon. Mr. Harlan came by to drop off some tools he had borrowed from my dad years ago. I opened the door wearing nothing but a thin white tank top and light-pink cotton panties. No bra. My nipples were already hard from the cool air. The tank top was short enough that a strip of my stomach showed.
His eyes dropped immediately.
“Your mom around?” he asked, voice lower than usual.
“She won’t be back for a few hours,” I said. I stepped aside to let him in and made sure to turn in a way that let him see the full shape of my ass in the little panties. “You can leave the tools in the garage. Or… you can come in for a bit.”
He came in.
I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen, deliberately slow, feeling his eyes on the way the panties rode up between my cheeks. I opened the fridge and bent over more than I needed to, looking for nothing in particular. When I straightened and turned, he was standing much closer than before.
“You do that on purpose,” he said quietly.
I didn’t pretend. My heart was hammering. “Do what?”
“Walk around this house half-naked every time I come over. Let that towel fall open. Bend over right in front of me.” His eyes moved down my body again, lingering on my hard nipples and the visible outline of my pussy lips through the thin cotton. “You want me to look.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He stepped into my space. One of his big hands slid under the hem of my tank top and up over my bare stomach until he was cupping my breast. His thumb brushed my nipple and I shivered hard.
“You’ve been teasing me for months,” he said. “Showing me this little body. Getting my cock hard while your mother sits ten feet away.” His other hand slid down and gripped my ass through the panties, squeezing. “You have any idea how many times I’ve gone home and stroked my cock thinking about bending you over?”
I was soaking wet already. I could feel it.
“I want it,” I said, voice shaky. “I’ve wanted it. I see how big you are when you get hard. I think about it. I touch myself thinking about your cock.”
That was all it took.
He kissed me hard, backing me against the counter. His tongue pushed into my mouth while both hands yanked my tank top up over my tits. He groaned when he saw them—full, perky, nipples tight and dark. He bent down and sucked one into his mouth, hard, while his hand shoved inside my panties and found how wet I was. Two thick fingers slid through my folds and pushed inside me easily.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my breast. “Dripping. You’ve been walking around this wet for me?”
I could only moan and nod.
He pulled his fingers out, spun me around, and bent me over the kitchen island. My panties were dragged down to my thighs. I heard his belt and zipper. Then the heavy, hot weight of his cock slapped against my ass. I looked over my shoulder and my mouth went dry.
It was even bigger than I had imagined. Thick, veined, the head already shiny with precum. He stroked it once, then rubbed it up and down between my wet lips, coating himself in my juices.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rough.
“Please,” I begged. “I need it. I need that huge cock inside me.”
He pushed in.
The stretch was intense. My cunt had to open around him inch by inch. I moaned loudly as he slowly forced every thick inch into me until his hips were pressed against my ass. I had never felt so full. He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust, one hand gripping my hip, the other reaching around to rub my clit.
Then he started fucking me.
Deep, hard strokes that forced the air out of my lungs every time he bottomed out. The wet sound of my pussy taking him filled the kitchen. I pushed back to meet every thrust, greedy for it. He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back while he railed me.
“This what you wanted?” he growled. “Walking around half-naked, teasing me with this tight little cunt until I finally took it?”
“Yes—fuck—yes, I wanted it—”
He fucked me harder. The island creaked. My tits bounced with every impact. I came hard around his cock, clenching and shaking, but he didn’t stop. He kept pounding me through it, chasing his own pleasure, using my body exactly the way I had fantasized about for months.
When he finally pulled out I almost cried from the sudden emptiness. He turned me around, lifted me onto the island, and pushed back inside me while I wrapped my legs around him. This angle let him go even deeper. He kissed me roughly while he fucked me, one hand squeezing my breast, the other gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks.
I came again with him inside me, louder this time. My juices were running down onto the counter. He was close—I could feel him getting even thicker.
But he didn’t finish inside me yet.
He pulled out, breathing hard, cock shiny and dripping with my wetness. He looked at me with dark eyes.
“On your knees.”
I slid off the island and dropped to the floor in front of him without hesitation. His huge cock was right in front of my face, smelling like my cunt. I leaned in and licked a long stripe up the underside, tasting myself on him. Then I opened my mouth as wide as I could and took him in.
He was so thick my lips stretched around him. I could only take about half before he hit the back of my throat. I gagged and pulled back, spit running down my chin, then tried again. He groaned and rested a heavy hand on the back of my head, not forcing, just guiding.
I sucked him like I had been starving for it. Bobbing my head, stroking what I couldn’t fit with both hands, swirling my tongue around the head every time I pulled back. Spit was dripping down onto my tits. He watched me the whole time, eyes half-lidded, jaw tight.
“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered. “Mommy’s little friend on her knees with a mouth full of cock. You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? Wanting to choke on it.”
I moaned around him in answer and took him deeper, ignoring the way my eyes watered. I wanted him to use my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum. I sucked harder, faster, messy and desperate, until he finally grabbed my hair with both hands and started thrusting into my throat.
I let him. I kept my mouth open and my tongue out and took it while spit ran down my chin and onto my chest. The wet, filthy sounds of him face-fucking me filled the kitchen. My own hand was between my legs, rubbing my clit in fast circles.
“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, voice strained. “Where do you want it?”
I pulled off just long enough to look up at him with glassy eyes and say, “On my face. Please. I want it all over me.”
That broke him.
He stroked his cock hard and fast right in front of my face. I stuck my tongue out and closed my eyes just as the first thick rope of cum hit my cheek. The second landed across my open mouth and tongue. He kept cumming—heavy, hot pulses that streaked across my nose, my lips, my chin, and down onto my tits. I felt it dripping. I opened my mouth wider and he pushed the head back between my lips so the last few spurts went onto my tongue.
I swallowed what I could and let the rest sit on my tongue so he could see it. Then I slowly closed my mouth and swallowed the rest while looking up at him.
He stared down at me like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—his mother’s friend’s twenty-one-year-old daughter on her knees in the kitchen, face and tits covered in his cum, still panting, still dripping between her legs.
He reached down and smeared some of the cum across my lips with his thumb. I sucked the thumb clean.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
I was still so turned on I could barely think. I stood up on shaky legs, wiped a streak of cum from my cheek with my fingers, and pushed those fingers into my still-throbbing pussy. He watched me do it.
“We’re not done,” I whispered. “I still need you to fuck me again before my mom gets home.”
His cock twitched, already starting to harden again as he looked at the mess he had made of me.
He stepped forward, picked me up, and carried me toward the living room couch.
We still had at least an hour.
And I intended to use every minute of it.
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