Chapter 83 Vignette 75
I sat across from him at the polished wooden table, my notebook open, pen in hand. I should have been paying attention to the way he broke down the strategies, the patient way he explained every step.
My father had been right…he was the perfect mentor. Six months under his guidance and I’d learned more than I ever thought possible.
But tonight, something was different.
The house was too quiet. No footsteps in the hall, no background voices…just the two of us, his deep voice rolling over me like velvet, his eyes focused on the page while I… couldn’t focus on anything but him. The silver at his temples. The steady lines of his hands as he gestured. The faint scent of his cologne that always lingered when he leaned too close.
I bit my lip. My pulse drummed.
I wasn’t writing anymore. I was staring. Staring at a man who was supposed to be off-limits. Staring at the very person I knew I shouldn’t want, yet couldn’t stop craving.
He noticed. Of course he did. His voice faltered for half a second, his eyes lifting to catch mine. I should have looked away. I should have snapped my gaze back to my notes. Instead, I let it linger. Bold. Reckless.
I've always been ridiculed by my friends in college for being attracted to old men. So I restrained myself whenever they were around.
But now they weren't. Not even dad was at home. Just me and this handsome thing staring at me with those eyes that left me weak in the knees without him having to pull a single string.
I've always wanted to feel him, even if it's for a split second. In the past I let my hand brush his whenever I was passing an object or even during casual conversations…but he doesn't seem to notice. Or maybe thought it was always an accident.
I knew it. My breathing was unsteady now. This man was attractive to me in ways he could never imagine. No one would.
I literally thought my father was bringing me a match when he arrived with this man six months ago, but no, he was just gonna be my fucking mentor. One who I badly want to fuck. Want him to taste my sweet and tight pussy.
Before I could stop myself, I leaned forward, my hand brushing his. The heat of his skin shot through me, and I saw the flicker of shock in his eyes.
He didn't say anything, just stared at me as if demanding for an answer for my action.
But I only smiled, inching closer, my fingers tracing the back of his hand, lingering, daring. My heart was hammering so hard I thought he could hear it.
Then I pulled back and let my touch hover through his skin, down to his veins. I was sure he felt it.
I stepped out of my seat and walked to his side of the table with slow seductive steps, my hand tracing the sides of the table as I walked.
My fragrance hit him harder as I significantly reduced the distance between us, sitting on the table in front of him, legs spread apart.
“Ella, what's this behaviour,” he asked, brows arched, furious.
But I knew it was just a pretense. Yeah he was pretending.
Probably wanted to act like a true guardian to hide he was already drawn into my temptation.
I breathed and leaned forward, fingers lightly grazing his chest.
“C’mon, don't act like you don't want me.” I said, more breath than voice.
He swallowed, couldn't speak.
For a moment he froze, as though weighing right and wrong, as though reminding himself he was my mentor. But then… I felt it.
The shift.
The subtle way his hand turned to catch my waist, his restraint crumbling as though my touch had unlocked something he’d buried for too long.
And in that moment, I knew he couldn’t resist me any longer.
So I had to take advantage of it. Of him.
Before he could realize, our lips already collided. I kissed him.
Damn
His lips were so soft. Too soft for his age.
Old men always have something you'd never find in guys my age, or slightly older.
He didn't push me away. Couldn't.
Just let my lips do their thing, my tongue reaching for his.
And when I roughened the kiss, he started kissing back. I knew I'd gotten to his head now.
The sweet feeling of getting intimate with someone older… who is supposed to be off limits… coursed through my veins.
I rushed down from the table and suddenly I was straddling him, sitting directly on his bulgy cock. So fat and thick I knew I was making the right decision.
I whined my pussy on his cock prints and he groaned in my mouth while I held his head to keep him from moving. Still kissing and sucking his lips
His cock rose despite my weight pressing against it, it literally felt like it was already going into my pussy. I moaned, then broke the kiss and lifted myself out of his lap.
His face looked flushed, cock still rising like it would break out of his shorts if I didn't take it out immediately.
I knelt in front of him, took one last glance at his facial expression before reaching for his zippers.
He just stared at me like he knew what I was about to do was wrong but he'd let me do it anyway.
But I didn't need his permission. I was already too turned on for that. Even if he tried to resist, I would still find a way to shove his cock inside my pussy before anything else happens.
I quickly undid his zippers and his cock finally sprang free.
A fucking hard cock. The tip was almost violet, smooth, and a veiny body, hairs at the bottom of his shaft.
I gasped. Never had something as huge as this from all the old men I've fucked in the past.
His cock twitched at my touch when I held it in my hand. He gasped.
I shifted my face forward, my lips wide apart.
Then—
He groaned.
My saliva rubbed all over it as I took it deep in my throat, sucking him so well. I reached for his balls, playing with them. His moans loudened, pushing his hips upward like he wanted his cock to go past my throat.
My pussy pulsed under my skirt. Lips swelling like it couldn't endure my eyes seeing his cock anymore, and mouth bringing him near to an orgasm. It wanted a taste of the beautiful cock too.
I dripped down there, pussy watering like he'd even touched me. Literally didn't.
I moaned and stood on my feet. I shifted my panties to the side and briefly felt how wet I'd become.
Damn.
I couldn't remember the last time I got turned on like this.
Without wasting a breath or thought, I straddled him again, held his cock upward, then slowed my pace as I sat on it. He didn't even move a finger. Just watched me.
“Oh, gosh, this is awesome,” I said in a breathy whisper.
I placed my hands on his shoulder and started riding him. Sweet slurpy sounds filled the quiet room and halls.
I continued riding him, skirt lifted to my waist, ass slamming his thighs, pussy expanded by his fat cock.
“Oh, gosh, this is so good,” I moaned, his cock stretching the walls of my pussy, eyes closed, head thrown backward, riding him ecstatically.
Then I opened my eyes and our eyes met. His lips were slightly apart, releasing gasps, ecstatic eyes piercing into mine.
He was so fucking sexy.
His hands clutched tighter to the chair’s hand rest, as if he was scared to hold my ass or squeeze my boobs with them.
But then I grabbed his hand myself and placed it on my bouncing ass. He didn't pull back. Instead he pressed his fingers to it in a squeeze.
I moaned louder and increased my pace, the chair creaking under us.
“Oh, shit,” I moaned, riding even faster.
Now he pressed two hands to my ass and let out a really loud groan, his cum shooting deep inside me.
“Ohh, damn!” I screamed and fell on his chest, breathing high. My juices dripped down his cock.
He was still inside me while I tried to catch my breath.
Then I shifted just enough for our eyes to meet. “That was so good!” I exclaimed.
He didn't say anything. Just gasped, eyes fixed on my pussy and his cock as I stood up from it. It fell heavily on his lap, my creams staining his shorts.
I adjusted my panties and covered my ass with my skirt. Then I walked back to my seat with a flushed face. I sat down and watched him tuck his cock back in. There was a cloth beside him. He reached for it and wiped off the stain of my pussy cream from his shorts.
He didn't say anything to me. Just picked up his pen and notebook.
“Where did we stop in our lesson?” He asked,