A Cock in the Hand Ch. 06 - Sex Stories

A Cock in the Hand Ch. 06

... was, in fact, staring--I looked up to see his arrogant grin, knowing I was teetering. His hands were behind his back, seeming to only further push his cock front and center.

"Did you forget something, Mark?" I asked, trying to keep strong.

"No, Mrs. Stilson. There is no forgetting anything about today, I promise. But I did bring you a little something to remember me by, in case it was not so memorable for you."

I felt like I was in a fog. I could hear myself repeating in my head, don't stare at his cock; when I looked into his eyes, it felt like he knew my every thought.

"Is everything okay, Mrs. Stilson, you look a little flustered..."

I looked at it and he made it pulse with a rush of blood, pushing against the fabric like it might burst through.

"Are you still hungry, Mrs. Stilson?"

I didn't understand the question, as his cock had me in a trance-like state. I recalled how warm and hard it felt.

"Mrs. Stilson? Are you going to invite me in? It's damn hot today." He wiped his brow.

I looked up at him with his arrogant smirk.

"Yes, of course, please come in," I half stuttered.

"Would you have any more of that delicious lemonade, Mrs. Stilson?"

"Sure, let me get you some." I turned and broke my gaze and led him back to the kitchen, where I had been thoroughly and complete fucked just over two hours earlier.

"You make that outfit look very good, Mrs. Stilson," he said in a soft voice and finished with a sigh.

His words sent a tingling ...

... rush through me, and I fought releasing a sigh of my own. I was wearing black sweats and a white-and-orange Orioles jersey. My breathing was broken and my mouth dry, as the lump in my throat intensified.

When I reached the refrigerator, I pulled out the lemonade, and turned--he stood dangerously close, holding an elongated box wrapped in red and white striped wrapping paper. He immediately set it on the counter and gazed at me. His eyes let me know his thoughts and I gasped, as my hand holding the pitcher began to tremble.

"Let me help you with that, Mrs. Stilson." He took it and sat it on the counter. "I'm glad you deem me worthy of your lemonade now, Mrs. Stilson."

As he called me 'Mrs. Stilson' for the hundredth time that day, I recalled our earlier encounter, when I was still harmlessly flirting with him. I told him lemonade was reserved for friends, who called me Amy. When he persisted with Mrs. Stilson, I gave him water.

My eyes darted from his eyes to his cock, as I felt my will slipping away. Mom had not texted as she normally would, before heading home with the kids. She liked to give me warning to prepare for the chaos of their return. That realization unleashed a flurry of wicked thoughts and in a last hope that maybe he could reign us in, I spoke out.

"Mom and the kids could be home any time. I think you should--"

"We should hurry, Mrs. Stilson," he interrupted. "I parked down the block so no one would see my car was back."

I took a step back, ...