Chapter 190 Fuck My Best Friend's Daddy
AVA
I've wanted to fuck my best friend's dad since the summer I turned seventeen.
There it is, out in the open. No sugarcoating, no excuses. Judge me, hate me, whatever—I'm past caring. I'm nineteen now, back in town for winter break, and every time Ethan Hayes walks by in those grease-stained jeans or flashes that half-smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, my thighs clench so hard I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. I've spent years touching myself in the dark, legs spread, fingers circling my clit while I picture his rough hands pinning me down, his gravel voice growling my name as he buries himself deep enough to make me scream.
It started innocently enough. Or as innocent as it gets when you're a horny teenager crashing at your best friend's house every weekend. Sophie and I were inseparable—sleepovers, movie marathons, sneaking booze from his liquor cabinet. Ethan was always there in the background: tall, broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair, arms corded from years fixing cars and lifting weights in his garage gym. Widowed young, never remarried, devoted to Sophie. The perfect dad. The perfect fantasy.
Then one night I walked past the cracked bathroom door and saw him—towel slung low on his hips, water dripping down his chest, abs carved like he still trained for combat. His cock was half-hard under the towel, thick even soft. I froze. Watched him stroke himself once, slow, eyes closed like he was thinking of someone. I ran back to Sophie's room, locked the door, and came harder than I ever had, whispering his name into the pillow.
After that, it was obsession. Every hug hello lingered too long. Every "Hey, kiddo" made my nipples pebble. I started wearing shorter shorts when I came over, bending over to pick up "dropped" things, letting tank tops slip off one shoulder. He noticed. I saw the way his jaw ticked, the way he'd adjust himself when he thought I wasn't looking. But he never crossed the line. Good man. Responsible dad.
Until tonight.
Sophie texted this morning: group plans canceled, she's stuck at campus with a snowed-in flight. I could have turned around. Gone home. Instead I drove straight to their house, heart hammering, pussy already slick under my skirt. Told myself I'd just say hi, grab the hoodie I'd left last time.
Bullshit.
I found him in the garage. Door half-open, lights on, classic rock blasting. He was finishing a set of pull-ups—shirt off, sweat gleaming on his skin, muscles flexing with every rep. Back broad, tattoos snaking over his shoulders from his army days. Low-slung workout shorts doing nothing to hide the bulge.
He dropped down when he saw me, wiped his face with the hem of a discarded tee. "Ava? Thought you were with Soph."
"Plans fell through." I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. The air smelled like motor oil and clean sweat—his sweat. "She said to come anyway. Hang out. Wait for her flight to clear."
His eyes flicked over me—cropped hoodie, tiny denim skirt, thigh-high socks. No bra. Nipples tight against the thin fabric from the cold and from him. He swallowed. "Right. Well... make yourself at home. I was just finishing up."
He turned to grab a towel, but I moved faster. Closed the distance. Pressed my palm flat to his bare chest—hot skin, hard heartbeat thundering under my fingers.
"Ava—"
"I've waited long enough." My voice came out breathy, needy. "Years of watching you. Fantasizing. Touching myself every night thinking about what you'd feel like. How big you'd be. How rough."
He froze. Didn't pull away. Just stared down at me, pupils blown. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do." I slid my hand lower, over the ridges of his abs, down to the waistband of his shorts. Felt him twitch. "I know exactly what I want. You. Inside me. Fucking me like you've wanted to since I stopped being a kid."
A low curse ripped from his throat. His hand shot up, cupped the back of my neck—not gentle. Possessive. "This is wrong on every level. Sophie's my daughter. You're her best friend. I'm old enough to be your—"
"Daddy?" I finished for him, rolling up on my toes so my lips brushed his jaw. "Yeah. I know. That's what makes it so fucking hot."
He groaned—deep, tortured. His grip tightened. "Jesus, Ava."
"Tell me you haven't thought about it." I palmed him through the shorts—thick, rock-hard, straining. Stroked once, slow. "Tell me you haven't jerked off imagining bending me over your workbench. Spreading me open. Filling me until I can't walk straight."
His breathing turned ragged. "I can't lie to you."
Victory burned through me. I pushed him back until his ass hit the workbench, then dropped to my knees on the concrete. Looked up at him through my lashes. "Then stop fighting it."
I tugged his shorts down. His cock sprang free—heavy, veined, leaking at the tip. Bigger than I'd imagined. I wrapped my hand around the base, licked a slow stripe from balls to head. Tasted salt and heat.
"Fuck." His hand fisted in my hair. Not stopping me. Guiding me. "You shouldn't—"
But I already had him in my mouth. Sucking deep, hollowing my cheeks, tongue swirling. He bucked once, cursed again. Hips jerking forward like he couldn't help it.
I pulled off with a wet pop. "Say it. Tell me you want this. Want your daughter's best friend on her knees, choking on your cock."
His control snapped. Hand tightened in my hair, yanking my head back so I had to look up at him. Eyes dark, feral. "You want Daddy to fuck that smart mouth? Want me to use you like the little tease you've been for years?"
My pussy throbbed. "Yes. Please, Daddy."
He hauled me up, spun me around, bent me over the workbench. Flipped my skirt up. Found me soaked, no panties. Growled low in his throat. "No fucking underwear. You came here planning this."
"Every time I come here." I arched back, pressing against him. "Been dripping for you since I pulled into the driveway."
His fingers slid between my folds, circling my clit once—hard. I moaned. Then two thick fingers pushed inside, stretching me. "So tight. So wet for an old man."
"For you." I rocked back. "Only you."
He pulled his fingers free, lined himself up. The head nudged my entrance—hot, blunt. "Last chance to stop this, baby girl."
I pushed back. Took the tip. "Don't you dare stop."
He thrust in—deep, hard, no mercy. Filled me completely. The stretch burned so good I cried out. He didn't let up. Pulled back, slammed home again. Hand around my throat, tilting my head back so he could growl in my ear.
"That's it. Take Daddy's cock. Been dreaming about this pussy for too long."