Chapter 9

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whispered while staring at the ceiling in my dark bedroom. “Did that really happen?”

Oh, sure, I’d planned, dreamed, and daydreamed before scheming even further. Except, massaging a concept was one thing, but to actually...

“Goddamn, her pussy had been...” I gulped. “Magical.”

Inside my shorts, a fist slid along my hardening flesh. Because long after I should’ve collapsed into a profound slumber, memories continued to tumble into my fried brain.

Not only the flashing of Mrs. Goodman’s eyes flooded with the fear I craved. But also that glorious smidgen of hate keeping her on edge.

No, it was the feel of her. All the sensations. That racing heartbeat. Silky, sweat-coated skin beneath me. Her spine rubbing against my bare chest. The entire length of her slippery insides clenching my thrusting pole. Plus, the firm softness at the very end of her canal.

Also, the sounds. The bed creaking, then thumping. Our bodies slapping. The squeaking of the chair as I’d bounced her in my lap. Her sneaky moans. Then those muffled, but soon unrestrained, cries as she came over and over again.

Yeah, about the last, I hadn’t caught on just yet. Frankly, that hadn’t been in my plan. Call it a blind-spot.

At some point I must’ve drifted off, because the alarm jolted me from a dreamless slumber. As I ate breakfast with my mom, recounting her week, my mind kept reviewing the previous night.

What’d she really told her husband? Both when she’d come to me dressed that way and after returning home. Had he noticed she no longer wore panties? How had she explained?

“ ... hear me, Damon?”

At momma’s voice and glossy nails tapping on my forearm, I met her narrowed eyes. After a swift gulp, I unfurled my eyebrows.

“Uh, what’d you say, momma?”

“Eighteen, huh? Still a boy with that wandering mind.” With a sigh, she shook her head. “I said, after church, would you help with the new playground? The pastor needs to assemble a swing set.”

“Yes, momma.”

The answer should’ve been “Hell no.” But there was no way to explain I had to edit a few hours of a brand-new video. So instead, I nodded while finishing my meal. When I stood, she flashed me a smile.

At that point, keeping her happy still guaranteed my life was better. After returning the grin, I took our dishes to the kitchen sink and washed up.

Before changing for church, I snuck a brief watch of Mrs. Goodman and me in the suite. But that only made it difficult to zip my trousers. The whole way there, those images kept flooding me. Clenched, her fists clawing at the comforter. Her glossy white teeth biting deep into the pillow. How her sleek body shook and slippery walls squeezed as she cried out.

When momma tapped my arm, I pushed on the brakes. And, brakes squealing, the truck lurched into the church lot. Yeah, I was distracted.

By the distraction, duh.

And for the first time in forever, the service flew. With images and sensations of Mrs. Goodman swirling within me, one second, we were sitting, the next, the congregation was rising to leave.

While working on the play equipment, I was too busy to think about what had happened. Only as we drove home did my mind wander once more. But I found our scarred driveway. After we’d halted, momma hopped from the cab and gazed at me.

“Son, I’m not sure what’s gotten into you, but you need to focus.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After I’d provided the only correct answer, she smiled before fixing her hat and striding for the house. She was right. It was time to focus. On the future. As amazing as the night before had been, and the earlier event, where were we headed next? With my jaw clenching, I cleaned out the pickup before walking inside to shower.

Beneath the warm spray, a plan solidified. At that point, it only mattered what I wanted. As long as I was smart about things, and kept everything on the down-low, it might go on forever. When my cock surged, I held in a moan while drawing a sudsy fist along it.

“Forever?” I muttered.

I mean, yes. With all the evidence I’d manufactured, nothing had changed. Also, there was Amy. My perfect distraction to the distraction.

“Oh, shit. I owe her a call,” I murmured into the pounding water.

After a rushed dinner since mom had to work, I dashed into my room and started reviewing the videos. Was it dangerous to have filmed us? Kinda like the panties hanging from the corner of the monitor—my first trophy—yes, both were risky. But given everything else I’d planned; the gains far outweighed those risks.

Time wandered away as I meshed the camera angles, building the perfect documentary of our encounter. At last, I reclined in my chair with my back aching and cock a shaft of pulsing steel.

On the screen was a frozen image. In nothing but stockings, Mrs. Goodman’s naked frame pressed into my lap as my massive black hands played with her pale tits. Open wide and sending long trails of drool to glitter in the starlight, her shiny lips sucked along a glossy fist.

“Now that’s a screenshot.” I chuckled before saving it as a picture file.

At the phone’s chirp, I jumped. Mrs. Goodman? Was she gonna beg? With a hiss, I shoved a hand into my shorts to caress my shaft while looking at the phone.

Nope. Only Amy. After a sigh, I glanced at the time. Although late on a school night, I answered.

“Hey there, Amy.”

No, she didn’t get my stock phone call answer. Should’ve noticed that, but I didn’t.

“Damon! Sorry to wake you—”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” I drew the fist along my aching rod. “What’s up?”

“Just, um, wanted to say”—she gulped—”I, uh, had a lot of fun at the movies.”

“You already told me.”

At her nervous giggle, a grin appeared on my face. While rubbing my rod, I gazed at my new screensaver. Well, until momma got home. Then it would go to the depths of my hard drive. With all the rest.

“I missed you, Damon. Um, thought you should know.”

“Your giant fluffy—”

“—bear. Yes. I miss my giant fluffy bear.”

“You realize that was only one date, Amy.”

At that, she became silent. Not even her breathing echoed from the receiver. But at last, after a curt smack of her lips, she sighed.

“Yes, I know. I may be crazy, but I’ve been ... Well, I’ve wanted to approach you for months. Never had the guts. Then boom.” A nervous titter left her, and my pulse hitched. “That scared the poop outta me, but there you were. And I liked it. I enjoy being with you. I feel safe.”

“Hmm, what does your mom think about that?”

When she laughed, my grin widened. But at the computer screen timing out and going black, my shaft drooped. With a quiet sigh, I removed my hand. After several gulps of air, she cleared her throat.

“Oh, she’s convinced you’re gonna rape and murder me.”

“Hmm, rape maybe.” Although I chortled, every muscle in my body tightened. Because right then, it hit me. Call it whatever you want, but blackmail does not equal consent. Even if she’d ... Well, no matter how aroused Mrs. Goodman had been, it’d begun as coercion. “But never murder.”

When Amy giggled, my heart restarted. At her soft gulp, I bit into my lower lip. Let’s face it, she was a hot girl. Also, as small as she was, after impaling her, I could walk around for hours while we fucked. So there was that.