The Big Finish

And the only date she’d ever gone on with him hadn’t even been a real date – just a stolen hour when he’d pulled her away from the rest of the party.
Excerpt from page 69 of ‘Fallen’ by Lauren Kate

The first friend I made when my family moved to Cedar Avenue was Britt Donaldson. We bumped into each other not five minutes after Dad’s car pulled up behind the removal van.  Most of the other kids had looked at us like they thought the Addams family had just moved in, but not Britt. She sat on the fence opposite our new house with pursed lips, her tiny nod telling me that she knew exactly what I was going through.

We grew up together, attended prom with the hot twins from our year, took a year out to travel, and then enrolled in the same college when we got back from India. We met our husbands at the same festival, had a joint engagement party, and a double wedding in Italy… I trust that woman with my life and I know she trusts me with hers. We’ve both vowed that we will never, ever, betray each other.

So, I can’t believe that, while she’s busy singing a song about friendship with our two daughters, I’m padding barefoot along the upstairs hallway with a strawberry daiquiri my left hand and her son’s fingers tightly clutching my right.

When Britt and her husband separated four years ago her girls had stayed with her, but Wayne had moved to Australia with his father. He was back in the country for a month, here to celebrate his twenty-first birthday with his mother.

During his first week back, I’d joined Britt to watch him play football. I’d tried not to notice how wide his shoulders had looked in his shirt, how strong his arms were, or how his thigh muscles tensed and flexed when he moved, but my mind registered it all. Best friend’s son or not, my body wanted him, but I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let that happen. Wayne would never know how I felt, and neither would his mother.

But my efforts to hide my attraction to him were apparently futile because Wayne did know.

All it had taken to give the game away was the way he’d looked at me when he wandered into Britt’s kitchen in search of a beer five minutes ago. His lazy appraisal began at my toes, lingered on my cleavage, and ended when his gaze rested on my eyes.

I’d taken a deep breath, feeling my chest rise high as I’d filled my lungs, watching him watch it fall again as I exhaled purposefully slowly. His chipped toothed smile reminded me of the way he’d looked at me from beneath a pile of sweaty football players. Hot and excited, loaded with the arrogance common of men of his age.

He didn’t ask me to follow him from the kitchen. Well, not verbally he didn’t. He just cocked his head a couple of times in the direction of the door and I’d followed. Once we reached the bottom of the stairs he’d held out his hand, and I’d taken it, followed him up, along the hall, and into the spare bedroom.

Now I’m standing here with my back against the closed door, sipping pink liquid from my glass as this beefy kid backs slowly away. He looks me up and down again, licking his lips as though I’m a banquet and he doesn’t know where to start. That fucking smile! So full of confidence, so cocksure.

Wayne suddenly stalks toward me and drops to his knees. Large hands wrap around my ankles, dragging slowly up my calves, his fingers tickling the backs of my knees. When he reaches the hem of my dress he keeps going, pushing it higher and higher, leaning in to let me feel his hot breaths on my thighs.

Tremors race through me when I feel his thumb brushing back and forth over the lace front of my knickers. I imagine his hands moving around the back, caressing my ass, fingers hooking into the scalloped edge to draw them ever so slowly down.

But that’s not what he does.

There’s nothing sensual about the way he pushes his thumb against the fabric, rubbing it between my lips for just a second before finding a gap in the lace and making it bigger with one sharp jerk. The tearing noise is shocking, but not as shocking as the growl he makes when he lunges forward and buries his face in my groin.

I’m just about to tell him that I’m not a fan of being on the receiving end of oral sex, but the seal his lips make at the top of my vulva stops me. He starts to suck in time to the faint beat of the music coming from downstairs, using the flat of his tongue to stroke over and around my clit. I wait, watching his nostrils flare against my mound, listening to the wet noises his mouth and my cunt are making.

As soon as the first moan slips past my lips, Wayne rears back. One yank on the front of my dress has my boobs springing free. I lick my fingers, covering each hardening nipple with saliva, making them glisten in the dim light coming in through the window. Wayne pushes my tits apart, then together, lets them fall back to their natural position before weighing them in his hands.

He steals my drink, downs it then pitches the glass into a wastepaper bin. God, my pussy is so hungry now. It wants his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I want this man…my best friend’s son… to bend me over the dresser and fuck me. I want to hear him groan when my orgasm squeezes his dick, I want to feel his tight balls pressing against my ass and his throbbing cock spurting inside of me.

Wayne shuffles closer, pulling my legs over his shoulders. He stands, leaning me against the door while he eats me out. Given the noises he’s making, I can’t decide which of us loves the feeling of my cunt rubbing against his face more.

Oh fuck, his tongue is so long! He’s probing me with it, sinking it inside, swirling it around and teasing me. With his tongue inside me and his nose on my clit, the horny little bastard holds me against the door by my tits and hums until I come.

Without a word, he practically drops me. I’m on my knees with a still convulsing cunt and my mouth open wide, eager to see how big his cock is, itching to take it down my throat and find out how good his cum tastes.

But he’s walking away from me, breathing hard, his lips still tilted in that self-assured smile.

“What, no big finish?” I pant, struggling to my feet.

Wayne shifts his very obviously hard cock around in his pants, wipes my juices from his chin with the back of his hand, then laps them up. “You think I’m going to wait all these years to get my hands on the first woman I ever masturbated over, then give her everything I have all in one go?”

He crosses the room and starts tugging at my dress in a bid to cover up my naked breasts. “Tonight was just the beginning, Briony.”

My hand is on his cock. It’s big and so very hard. “Is that a fact?” I whisper, stroking it as best as I can through his jeans.

“You can do that all you want, you’re not getting fucked… yet.”


“Yes, really. I’m going to give you a little bit more each day while I’m here, but you’re not getting the big finish until the day I leave for Australia. This time when I go, my mother won’t be the only one looking forward to me coming back.”

*If you liked this story, click here to see what happens next*

Prompt #286 – Page 69

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *