Wicked Games (Masturbation Monday #235 & Wicked Wednesday #353)

This was primarily written for the Wicked Wednesday "Parallel" prompt with a little Masturbation Monday thrown in. Actually, there are a lot of parallels between this story and my story "Elevator Confidential" for the upcoming Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More anthology. I don't want to give any spoilers away, so I won't say how.

I know it's long, but I just couldn't resist. I debated splitting it into two posts, but I thought that would ruin the flow. I'll happily take the spanking if you think I deserve it.

Please click on the badges below the story to read all the other Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RiaRestrepoAuthorPage

Warning: Features an older man/younger woman pairing, dirty talk, and name calling.

Wicked Games

By Ria Restrepo

Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

"What is it with guys and fucking mind games!" I groused to no one in particular, tossing my phone onto the grass beside me.

"Something wrong?"

I looked up from the chaise where I was lounging by the pool. In my annoyance, I failed to notice the guy next door doing yard work nearby, which was a crying shame. He'd taken off his T-shirt and had it stuffed in the back pocket of his worn jeans. His bare chest glistened in the afternoon sunlight and his silvering brown hair was damp with sweat.

"Guy trouble." I shrugged, trying not to imagine what it would be like to lap up the bead of perspiration trailing down his neck—and failing miserably.

Chuckling, he grabbed his shirt and swiftly wiped his face and chest. "Come on over for some iced tea and we'll talk about it."

"That's okay. I don't want to bore you with my crap."

"You are never boring." His earnestness took me by surprise. "Besides, I need to cool down and would love some company."

Spend quality time with the man I'd been fantasizing about for ages or continue stewing while trying to remember the Spanish equivalent for dickface? It was a no-brainer really.

After picking up my phone, I followed him over to his house. As he held the back door open for me, I couldn't help breathing in his clean, musky scent. It really wasn't fair that he should smell so good. Of course, my dirty mind wondered if he'd smell the same way after a good hard fuck.

"Make yourself comfortable in the living room while I get a clean T-shirt."

I wanted to tell him not to bother, but thought better of it.

Having been in his house many times before, I easily found my way and sat on the sofa. On the coffee table, there was an open box filled with his latest novel. I picked up a copy, turned it over, and ogled his headshot. Like always, I got lost in his brilliant blue eyes.

"I can autograph a copy for you, if you like." He'd come back wearing a T-shirt and bearing two glasses of iced tea.

"I'd love that." I put the book back and took the drink he offered me. "Actually, I already read it on my Kindle. It's fantastic."

His eyes widened. "Thank you."

"I've read all your books."

"Really? Why?" He seemed genuinely perplexed.

"At first, because I was curious. But I really loved your writing. You're a great storyteller."

Smiling, he took a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "That means a lot coming from you."

I was sure he was only being polite. I knew for a fact he got rave reviews from much more influential people than a recent high school graduate.

"So, tell me about this guy trouble."

"Since my father is out of town, I invited this guy over that I've been seeing." I bit my lip, realizing what I'd just admitted.

He laughed. "Don't worry, I won't tell your father."

Looking down at my drink, I shrugged. "I'm an adult, so it's really none of his business."

"And what? The idiot stood you up?"

I nodded. "One minute he acts like he can't live without me. The next he totally ghosts."

"Maybe something happened beyond his control."

Shaking my head, I used my free hand to turn on my cellphone and showed it to him. "A girlfriend sent me this pic of him at a party hanging all over some other girl."

He looked at me sympathetically. "Let me guess, this happened after you two had sex."

"Well, not after the first time, so I guess he gets some credit for that." I put my phone on the coffee table. "I knew it wasn't going to last since he's going to college in the fall on the other coast. But at least he could have told me it was over instead of disappearing like that."

"I apologize for my gender."

"I know all guys aren't like that. Just seems like most my age are. All the more reason to find someone more mature."

His forehead crinkled. "More mature?"

"Yeah, like you." I took a sip of my drink, then lifted my head to press the cold glass against my neck.

"But I'm thirty-eight."

"I know." The coolness felt so good against my warm skin I dragged the glass across my neck to the other side.

"And you're eighteen."

"So?" Some of the condensation from the glass ran down my chest between my cleavage, soaking into my bikini top. The chill made me shiver and my nipples harden.

"That's a twenty-year age difference."

"I aced AP Calc, so simple arithmetic isn't a problem for me."

When I looked at him, I noticed his gazed was fixed on my tits. Following his sightline, I saw that my lacy cover-up couldn't conceal my taut nipples. I should have been embarrassed, but his obvious prurient interest sent a surge of adrenaline racing through my veins. This was the first time I'd ever seen him react to me in anything other than a friendly, neighborly way and I found it absolutely thrilling.

I lifted my gaze in enough time to watch him gulp down his drink and put his empty glass on the coffee table. "That kind of age difference doesn't bother you?"

"No, my first sexual fantasies were about a much older guy." Him, to be specific. "Actually, there are a lot of parallels between me and the character Jess in your last book."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You think?"

"An only child who was always more comfortable with adults than kids her own age. Mother dying when she was young. An emotionally distant father. Craving affection and guidance from older men." It was very Lolita-esque, but in a much less scandalous way.

His scintillating blue gaze held mine and, in that moment, I knew. Jess was me. The synapses in my brain went into overdrive, making connections I hadn't seen before. All the pieces were falling into place and the picture that was forming was beyond my wildest dreams.

"I especially enjoyed the protagonist watching her from his bedroom window every night. Watching her undress. Watching her playing with herself."

He didn't say anything, but his pupils were noticeably larger and his breathing was heavier.

"Then only to learn that she knew he was watching all along. That she'd been performing for him. Trying to arouse him to the point that he'd finally make a move. That he'd finally take her, claim her as his own."

Talk about parallels and life mirroring art. That was exactly what I was doing now—pushing him to admit that he wanted me and hoping he'd make all my wildest fantasies come true.

"You didn't think he was a pig?" His voice was low and rough.

I shook my head. "He gave her what she always wanted. Nothing wrong with that."

"Many others would disagree."

I really didn't give a fuck what anyone else thought. "Can I make a confession?"

"Of course."

"Remember the last time you asked me to housesit while you were on your book tour?"

He nodded.

"Well, I had a wicked fight with my father and needed to get away, so I hung out here for a while."

"You're always welcome whenever you need it."

"Thank you, but that's not the part I need to confess."

His eyebrows rose. "Go on."

"I thought I'd watch a movie and found your porn stash."

"Oh."

"I particularly enjoyed the barely legal schoolgirls getting fucked by older men."

"Did you?" His eyes were scorching blue fire, burning me from the inside out.

I'd been getting progressively wetter since I saw him outside, but talking to him like that, telling him all my filthy secrets, made me gush a fresh wave of juices that soaked my bikini bottoms.

"Especially the compilation of horny sluts getting doused in come. And all the dirty talk. So. Fucking. Hot."

His large hand rubbed the straining bulge in his jeans. "Did you play with yourself?"

Nodding, I caressed the cushion beside me. "Right here. I fingered my cunt until I came so fucking hard. And do you know what I was thinking about?"

"Tell me."

"I imagined you coming home and finding me like that. Telling what I dirty girl I was. Then pushing me over the arm of the sofa and fucking me hard and fast until you shot your come all over my ass."

"Fuck."

"I've never come harder than while thinking about being your filthy little slut."

That apparently pushed him over the edge, because his expression turned steely. "Show me your tits."

Biting the inside of my lip to stop myself from grinning, I put aside my glass. Slowly, I lowered one strap of my cover-up, then the other. I pushed it down over my breasts.

His eyes tracked my every movement, his hand idly tugging his erection through his jeans. Licking my lips, I desperately wanted to see his cock, my inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

Reaching behind my neck, I unfastened the bikini strap and let it fall down, releasing my full, heavy tits. I unhooked it from my back, then tossed it aside, completely exposing myself to him.

He groaned. "I love your big tits."

As he watched, I fondled them in my hands, grasping my nipples between my fingers. "I love playing with them. Especially pinching my fat nipples. Makes my cunt so wet."

His nostrils flared. "Show me."

I got up, bunched the cover-up to my midriff, and slipped off my bikini bottoms. Throwing them onto to the floor with my top, I stood upright and spread my legs slightly so he got a good look.

"You shave." His chest was heaving now.

"I love the way it feels." I stroked my bare pussy, trailing my fingers over my slick cunt lips, shivering at the decadent sensation. "It's so much more sensitive."

He got up and yanked off his T-shirt. "I want to eat that sweet little cunt while I fuck your tits."

My knees almost gave out on me right then and there. "Yes, please."

He motioned toward the sofa. "Lie down, dirty girl."

Not hesitating, I sprawled out on the couch so one leg was bent up against the back while the other was on the floor, leaving myself wide open for him.

Feasting on the sight of me, he opened his fly, then pulled off his sneakers and jeans. He was glorious to behold, standing there completely naked. His cock was only the second I'd seen in the flesh. It was long, thick, and perfect—because it was his.

He took his shaft in his hand and stroked it once from base to tip, making me mewl with longing. Thankfully, he was just as impatient as I was. He climbed on top of me, straddling my neck with his ass in my face.

I couldn't resist reaching up and groping his firm backside as he laid his heavy cock between my tits. He was liberally drooling pre-come on my breastbone, but he added his saliva to the mix for good measure. The dirty nastiness of it made my cunt clench even harder.

Pressing my tits together, he enveloped his cock in my ample fresh, then rocked his hips back and forth. Feeling his hard, hot flesh moving between my cleavage was unlike anything I'd ever experienced and was immediately addicted to it.

The sight of his ass cheeks clenching and his balls swinging as he fucked my tits spiked my arousal so much I uncontrollably lifted my hips, silently begging for his touch.

"Hold your tits together so I can eat your cunt."

That wasn't something I needed to be told twice. Once I took over creating a tight titty cunt for him to fuck, he bent over and buried his face in my sopping slit. I moaned when his tongue easily found my clit and teased it mercilessly. Clearly, maturity and experience had their benefits.

I was already on the verge of coming when he slid one finger inside me, then another, finding a sweet spot that pushed me over the edge. A cataclysmic orgasm ripped through me and I knew I'd never be the same.

As I was still quaking with pleasure, he pulled back, panting. "I'm going to come all over your slut tits."

"Fuck yeah."

He rose up, gripped his cock, and jerked it furiously until he shot several thick ropes of come all over my tits and belly.

Basking in the hedonism, I knew one thing for certain—I'd take wicked games like that over mind games any day.