The Good Girl

I didn't believe him. My body still resisted. I remembered the pain of his first entry. But when he pressed harder, I was distracted by his thumbs stroking my skin at my waist. My muscles relaxed just enough that the head of his cock entered me.

My hands flew up, finding his arms again. I held on for dear life while he continued to push into me without hesitation. Without pulling back.

Maybe it was because of my recent release, but just as he'd said, he entered me easier than the first time we had sex. He still stretched me, but his cock glided in. And when he moved one hand between us, stroking my clit...making my hips jump? Mmm!

Finally, I managed to keep my eyes open. Dave was watching me. I could see his teeth clenched between his parted lips. Sweat dotted his forehead. And the muscles beneath my fingers grew taut.

I started to ask him what was wrong when he grabbed my hips again and suddenly thrust hard against me, burying in so deep my body jerked and his balls slapped against my ass. A strange noise escaped my throat as I sucked in my breath when he withdrew quickly, leaving just the tip of his cock inside me. Then we were both absolutely still, except for his heavy breathing.

"Oh, Zoe! I can't believe how tight you are!" His voice was rough. Strained. His eyes clenched shut.

I let out a mewl when he still didn't move. What was he waiting for? My pussy contracted around the head of his cock. Then I gasped when he pulled out completely.

"Mmm." He licked his lips and stared down into my eyes.

I felt his hand moving between us. My body shivered when something soft swept back and forth over my pussy. Over my clit. I cooed.

"Do you like that, honey?"

I managed a nod before he did it again. Images from the movies I'd seen played in my mind. I knew what he was doing. He was rubbing the tip of his cock over me. It had looked so sexy on the TV screen. And in all truth, it was absolutely divine. Yet, I yearned for him to be inside me again.

He continued to move his cock with his hand back and forth through my pussy lips, against my clit. Sometimes, he pressed it to my pulsing entrance but didn't penetrate. That felt amazing. Eventually, he pushed inside me, but just with the head. And just for a moment before he withdrew and teased me all over again.

My arms had flopped back to the bed at some point. And while I didn't have the strength to hold onto his arms, I moved my hands to my breasts and fondled them. Pinching my nipples.

That delicious tension was building again. Dave pushed his cock into me. Slowly. Deeper and deeper. Making me moan louder and louder.

He started stroking in and out, setting a rhythm. My hips rose in time with his thrusts. Soon, we were both moaning. Panting.

He kept it up even after I was writhing beneath him, screaming his name. He was gasping mine. Telling me how I was such a good girl.

I was still floating when I felt him pull out. I heard his grunts. The slick sound of him stroking his cock, wet with my release. And then he cried out before something hot hit my belly.

He collapsed beside me on the bed, our legs dangling over the side. His hand found mine, and our fingers laced together. I had enough energy to squeeze his hand.

After a while, we climbed fully onto the bed and beneath the covers. He snuggled up behind me. His fingers stroked my arm, but his touch grew lighter and lighter until it stopped completely. Then I heard his breathing even out. His soft snoring.

I laughed softly. I'd worn him out. Again.

Doubt crept back into my thoughts while I lay in the stillness of his bedroom. In his bed. In his arms. We shouldn't be doing this. My parents trusted him to take care of me. He was more than twenty years older than I. He should know better. I should know better.

But it had felt so good. And damn me to hell, I wanted to do it again. And again. Something that good couldn't be wrong...right?

I may be naïve, but I knew this was far from what I'd seen on movies. Far from porn. From acting, for both of us. I just wish I knew what had prompted him to act upon his impulses. And what drove them to begin with.

As though he knew I was thinking about him, Dave's arm tightened around my waist. He was quiet, unmoving. Then he let out a deep sigh that made my hair tickle my neck before his snoring resumed. I wondered what he was dreaming about. Dare I hope it was me?

I sighed to myself. I could get used to the feeling of his body curled against mine from behind.

His other arm was folded beneath my neck. I could feel his hand between my hair and the pillow, his open palm cradling the side of my head, his fingers intertwined in my hair. I moaned softly at the thought of what that hand and those fingers had done to me only minutes before. That afternoon. How so much better it had felt when he touched me than when I had brought myself to release. And that was just the beginning.

The longer I lay there thinking, the more often I yawned. His arm was heavy when I dragged it up from my waist to lay it across my chest before I tucked his hand under my chin on the pillow. I snuggled further into his embrace.

Oh yes, I could get used to sleeping like this.

###

The most wonderful feeling coursed through my body. I was lying on my stomach in my dream, a soft bed beneath me. Fingers trailed lazy circles and lines across my back. They moved to my side, and I giggled, the touch tickling at first before it settled into a gentle, repetitive caress.

The fingers moved higher to my breast with more intent. Sliding under my body to cup the swollen mound. To pinch my nipple between thumb and forefinger and tease until it made me ache within and I mewled like a kitten.

"Mmm, I like that sound," a deep, gravelly voice said from somewhere behind me.

I mumbled into the pillow when the hand did it again. And again. And again.

"I think we like that."

Then the hand was gone. I felt my hair being brushed away and a kiss being pressed at my shoulder. I cooed when a tongue licked the skin. When a nose nuzzled at the back of my head. As warm breath broke through the strands of hair to tickle the nape of my neck.

A soft shudder shook me, and I sighed. But it turned into a moan when the hand slowly and firmly glided down my side. It stopped to cup my hip, a thumb stroking my lower back while the fingers massaged the skin from the front.

I wiggled on the bed, gripping the pillow tighter. It felt so good. But suddenly, the touch was gone. I groaned and tried to roll over.

A chuckle responded while the hand pushed me back onto my stomach.

I gasped into the pillow when the hand slid between my legs from behind without preamble. One second there was nothing. The next, fingers were pressing up between my lips and rubbing my clit.

My body undulated at the touch, causing the hand to slide back and forth, which only made me whimper more. It was a slow torture. I reveled in it. Yet, I wanted something else. In my drowsy state of the dream, I couldn't place my finger on what it was, though.

After what seemed like an eternity, the hand moved back further. Fingers pressed at my entrance. I arched my ass up, begging for more. The fingers continued to play over my sensitive skin but never sank inside of me.

Suddenly, the hand withdrew again. I cried into the pillow only to choke on my breath when two hands gripped my hips and yanked up, rearranging my body. I was still on my stomach, but my knees were now bent beneath me, my legs spread apart. I could feel a slight breeze brushing over my bared pussy.

When I felt a finger pressing inside me, I pushed back against the intrusion. It slid out a little further, and I pushed back more. We repeated this little game until I realized the finger was no longer moving, and I was in fact doing all the work. Fucking the finger.

The hand returned, resting on my lower back to still me. I felt a second finger being inserted. The game began again, and I clutched the sheet in my fists.

It all seemed so real. I could even smell the masculine sweat of my partner.

"God, you are so sexy, Zoe."

I jerked to a stop, and my eyes snapped opened. I stared wide-eyed into the damp pillow beneath me. It was a dream, right?

The warm hand still pressed to my back. Fingers still penetrated my pussy.

"We have a lot to talk about, honey. But first..."

The fingers withdrew and slid back so excruciatingly slow that I choked on my held breath.

No, none of it had been a dream.

A jolt of electricity raced through my body while Dave's fingers drove up further, wiggling deeper within. They took on a life of their own. Pushing. Pulling. Twisting. Stroking. Slowly at first, then picking up speed until they were thrusting rapidly.

I gasped. I moaned. I came, my body shaking as I tried desperately to catch my breath without moving too much lest I break the spell that he had me under. I could feel his hands caressing my back and hear his soft words of encouragement, but it was like everything was happening in a haze.

Then I felt his thighs touching mine from behind, his cock rubbing against my pussy. Ever so gradually, he entered me. And for a moment, I was afraid I would suffocate myself with goose-down feathers when I moaned long and low into the pillow.

I managed to turn my head to suck in a ragged breath of fresh air when he bottomed out inside me. Then he began the torture all over again, only with his cock this time. It felt so good, I started to cry. Now the pillow was damp with my sweat and tears.

Dave eventually increased his speed, and I could do nothing but lie there and exist, prostrate on my knees before him. I was soaking in the sweet bliss of our union when I felt him withdraw. My whole body groaned at the sudden emptiness. A few moments later, I shuddered again when the hot wetness of his release hit my back and ass. Relief slipped into my thoughts that he had not come inside me.

My sanity was brief because he thrust his fingers inside me once more. I cried his name while he brought me to yet another orgasm. I still felt like I was drifting through space when he gently turned me onto my back, spread my legs, and lay down with his head to my pussy.

I thought about reaching out to him—to lace my fingers in his hair—but I couldn't move a single bone in my body. So I lay still while he licked me, building me up once more before sending me spiraling over the edge.

I was utterly delirious when he was done. He cradled me in his arms. I vaguely felt him kissing my face and head but not my lips. And off in the distance, the thunder rolled.

###

"You need food."

My eyes fluttered open after a light clicked on. I watched Dave set a pizza box and some napkins next to where I was curled up under the sheets. He had put on a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

"Sit up, Zoe. Eat. Then we'll talk."

Why did I suddenly feel like a chastised child? Like on the day I had accidentally broken one of Mallory's vases. I'd tried to hide it so she wouldn't find out, and then I'd lied about it. How did I know she was going to go down to the basement and look for things to take to charity? Heavy with guilt, I had cried myself to sleep in the playhouse under the stairs. She was sitting beside me reading a book when I woke up. I confessed without her saying a word, and then we had a long discussion about telling the truth.

Now, I kept my eyes lowered while I moved to sit against the headboard, a pillow braced behind my back and the sheet tucked around my breasts. I nibbled on a triangle of pepperoni and mushroom pizza, the cheese perfectly gooey as it stretched from my mouth to the slice.

Dave did not speak while we ate. He sat on the bed near my feet. I had seen his hands resting on his thighs before he picked up a piece of the pie. How they had trembled. But why?

When we'd had our fill, he moved the pizza box to the dresser. He did not return to the bed but sat in an easy chair in the corner, his hands clasped in his lap and his head down. I pulled the comforter towards me and added it to the sheet over my breasts, suddenly embarrassed to be the only naked one in the room.

Why did I feel guilty that I had caused this? That if I hadn't snuck into the house and found his porno movies and masturbated in his office, this wouldn't have happened? But what if something else had triggered this connection? What if it was just fate that we were bound to end up together? A lonely widower and the innocent girl next door? Would I have felt guilty then?

"Zoe, I want to apologize."

Oh, God! He regretted it.

I couldn't stop the tears that suddenly formed in my eyes. One escaped, trickling down my heated cheek, and others quickly followed. I wished I had clothes on. I wanted to run from the room. Run from this house. I was the vase, broken into a million pieces...and there was nowhere for me to hide.

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault. Blame me, it was okay. But I could not form the words. There was a lump in my throat, and I couldn't even swallow. So I tried to ready myself for what he was going to say, telling myself I could take it. Just get it over with. Please just get it over with so I could move on with my miserable life.

Dave cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I haven't been here. I should have called. It's just...I was trying to get things arranged. I didn't want to have to take another trip back to California. So I stayed longer than I had planned. I'm so sorry. You must have been worried sick about me."

I blinked through my tears.

"Please, Zoe." He lifted his head, and in the dim light of the bedside lamp, I saw tears in his own eyes. "Can you ever forgive me, honey?"

I opened my mouth at least three times, changing what I was going to say in my head before I spoke. I wanted to rail on him...to blame his absence for what had transpired here today. But I was exhausted. And he'd apologized. So I simply said, "Yes, Dave."

"Oh, thank God!" Dave shot out of his chair. I thought he was going to leap across the bed and take me in his arms, but he remained standing and then started pacing, his hands in his hair. So much for romance stories.

I played with a loose thread on the comforter and tried to sound nonchalant. Feeling a little deflated, I mumbled, "So what were you arranging?"

He stopped and stared out the French doors.

I could see the railing of the balcony on the other side. The rain that continued to come down steadily. I wondered if he felt what I did. How the gloomy weather darkened the mood as well as the room.

"I'll tell you all about it, but first, we have to discuss this." He turned slightly and waved his hand back and forth between where he stood and where I sat on the bed. "Us."

I clamped my mouth shut. If I gave my opinion, I knew I would start crying again. Better he not know how I felt. At least not yet.

So I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Thunder rumbled far off in the distance, and I tried to discern if it was a new storm coming or the old storm finally leaving.

"I've been so lonely."

That lump in my throat? It traveled a bit further down and lodged in my chest. Here came the excuses.

"I've missed...Mallory." He let out a ragged sigh. "You've been here, helping me carry on. Even before, you were here all along. You've always been like a daughter to me. That is, until I saw you...in my chair."

Oh, God! I bit my bottom lip and stared at the open bedroom door out into the hallway. My escape was only a few feet away...if only I had some damn clothes! I couldn't bear him talking about me being like his daughter. Not after we had done. I didn't know anything about relationships, and I know I was just barely a legal adult. But...after what we'd shared...

"I have to admit. I was more than startled to find someone in the house. When I saw it was you, I was a little angry. That you had snuck in. I thought we had raised you better." Dave cleared his throat, maybe because he realized what he'd just said. "But the longer I stood there? Watching you watching that movie? Something changed. My anger was replaced with a deep longing. For something missing in my life. I'd had it, it had been ripped from me, and I wanted it back."

I started to ask if he was implying that I was replacing his wife, because I would have none of that, but he continued before I could get a word out.

"I came to realize you'd grown up right before my eyes. You have always been adorable...cute...pretty. Whatever word you want to use. But seeing you like that...one with yourself, completely relaxed? I saw for the first time the beautiful, young woman you've become."

I stifled a snort. Yes, because those were the first words an older man thought of when he saw his much-younger, female, next-door-neighbor half naked with her legs spread and breast bared on a leather chair in his office.

"We are all each other has, now. I know your parents love you in their own way, but they aren't there for you like they should be. They never have been. But I have." He sighed heavily. "Until this year. I let you down, and I'm sorry. You were there for me when I needed someone to pick up the pieces, but I haven't been there for you during a very important time in your life. I regret it very much."

How right he was. I wanted to yell at him for making me worry. For missing my birthday. Yet, I had to remember that he had his own life. There was no legal requirement that he had to stay put in his house next door to take care of me. Especially, now that he was widowed...and I was a legal adult.

"When I saw you in my studio? I realized you must be lonely, Zoe. For me. I have missed you so much. But please know, I have never harbored feelings like this for you until today. I'm not a sick, perverted man preying on my neighbor's kid. I swear."

My subconscious hung on that little, three-letter word. Even after all that we'd done today, was I still a kid to him? I took a deep breath, my exhale shaky. My voice decided to work, but it sounded more like a croak when I got out, "I never said—"

"No, but I'm sure it crossed your mind. It's only reasonable to wonder. Because I did. I asked myself why in the world would I even fathom pursing where that path led? Why I suddenly had all these feelings smoldering inside of me. I almost let you believe you were all alone. I would have hid out until you'd left. Found some way to bury what I was feeling...thinking. But you turned around before I could act. In that moment, there was only one choice. I needed you. I wanted you, to hell with the consequences."

I admit that I was relieved to know he hadn't been having intimate feelings for me before today. It would have been creepy. But I still wasn't sure that I wasn't just a momentary salve to his pain. That once he had sated his desire, I'd just be Zoe McConnell, the girl next door again.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I hadn't known what to expect. I hadn't anticipated your willingness to surrender so easily. And when I realized it, it was like a train going downhill, picking up speed. I would have stopped if you'd told me to. It would have been hard to bear, but I would have done it. I don't ever want to hurt you. To do anything against your will. To make you feel like you're being used."

I lifted my head to look him again. He was facing me now, standing closer to the bed. Lightning flashed above the skylights, making me jump. It illuminated his expression that had remained in the shadows: the drawn mouth, the creased forehead, the darkened eyes.

I trembled suddenly. He was concerned. For me. He wanted me. The girl that her own parents chose to ignore, because they couldn't seem to be to handle having a kid, preferably hiding away under the guise of traveling the globe.

The tears flowed then. But he didn't embrace me like I wanted him to. Needed him to. Expected him to.