Dripping for my mother’s husband 2

~Lila~ Dinner was torture. I had to sit opposite Damien for two hours and pretend as if I hadn’t m*********d with his name on my lips in my bathroom. And the hardest part? He had his eyes on me all along. Those f*****g, stormy-gray hue, pinning me down on my seat, my fingers trembling as I passed the potatoes to momma. Fuck~ I could feel my cunt dripping past my shorts, straight onto the chair, and I had no panties on. I cleared my throat and focused on my dinner, before I did something crazy. “How’s college, Lila?” Damien’s thick voice finally broke through the silence. “Fine,” I gritted out, keeping my eyes on my plate, and shoving a spoonful of porridge into my mouth. “I heard there were some changes made,” my mother picked up from where Damian stopped. “How are you coping? You literally tell me nothing, Lila?” I dropped my fork on the porcelain plate with a sharp echoing click. “School’s fine, mum. I’m doing just… fine. You should focus on your honeymoon instead, okay?” Mom laughed. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m really glad you are Damien are getting along so well.” “Yes,” Damien cut in, cleaning his lips with a wipe as he grinned. “She’s such a lovely girl.” My eyebrows knitted in surprise as I finally locked eyes with him. He had this seductive smile on his face, and I couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were spiraling in his mind. “I’m full… you both enjoy, I’ll sleep early.” I gave them a tight smile and grabbed my plate with both hands then sprinted out of the dining room. I entered the kitchen, dropped the plates and gripped the edge of the sink so tight my knuckles whitened. He was playing games, and I so desperately wanted to see what kind of games it was. *** Past midnight, and I was still awake, tossing and turning in my bed. Then came my mom’s giggle down the hallway, followed by Damien’s thick voice and the sound of their bedroom door slamming shut. I threw off the cover, ignoring every instinct screaming at me that this was wrong, put on my flip flop and walked out of my room, sprinted down the hallway and stopped in front of their room door. The moans came first. Loud. My mother’s voice. Then came Damien’s grunt, and the unmistakable creak of the headboard against the drywall. “f**k, baby! Did you get bigger? You are literally hitting my cervix! Haaah,” my mother screamed. “You like that, hm?” Damien’s voice came next, heavy with need. “Yes… oh, Fuckk! Yes! Baby… harder!” My palm flew to my mouth to muffle a moan. A moan. I wasn’t the one he was f*****g, but I was already getting aroused just from the feel of him f*****g my mother. I’m going crazy. I tiptoed toward the other end of the hallway as their moans grew louder and went to the kitchen to eat cornflakes. Clear my head a bit. The kitchen was dark, much to my satisfaction, just the moonlight spilling in through the windows. I sat on the Island and poured milk into a bowl, then flakes, turned and began eating. I had just finished and dropped the bowl in the sink when large fingers gripped my wrist out of nowhere and slammed me against the wall. “What the—” I gasped as a palm closed around my mouth, shutting me up in an instant. Damien. I knew it was him just from his scent. “Quite,” he whispered and slowly released my mouth. “Your mom is fast asleep.” “So?” I asked as he removed his palm, even though I already knew the answer. “So I have enough time to taste you, kitten.” He growled. And before I could say anything else, he lifted me by my hips and carried me to the table, dropping me on it. His fingers finding the waistband of my short and pulling it down my legs, letting it hang from one ankle. “Look at that,” he chuckled. “Dripping just from hearing me f**k your mom.” I gasped as his fingers began stroking me. Hell, it felt so good. “You knew… I was… there… haaah” “Mm,” he hummed and spread my legs wider. Then buried his face between them, his tongue moving in heavy strokes up and down my cunt. He licked once, then twice, then continuously until I was arching closer to his lips. “Mhfff, Fuckk!” I cried out and immediately bit the back of my palm to muffle my moans. “Did you think,” he groaned against my c**t, sucked it and pushed his tongue in, “that I’d let you go after you sucked my c**k like a pro in the club? Hell nah.” Then he began tongue-f*****g me, right there on my momma’s kitchen table. The sound of my dripping hole and his tongue thrusting in and out wet and obscene. “You taste,” he moaned and ran his tongue around the soft bud of my p***y that made my legs tremble violently, “like heaven.” “Damien,” I gasped. “Please… I’m so close…” “Not yet,” he grunted and pushed two fingers inside me, the stretched burned just right, my hips moving in rhythm as he began pumping in deep curling strokes. “You are tight,” he groaned. “You are literally squeezing my fingers, you filthy whore.” “D… Damien… please… m-moreeee,” I gasped, arching myself closer and grinding my hips against his face and fingers. God, he was too good at this. I never imagined getting finger-f****d this good ever. My body began convulsing as my orgasm came in waves. He clamped his palm over my lips to keep me from screaming loudly as my release flooded his mouth, and I heard him swallow, every tiny bit. My chest heaved as he removed his mouth and fingers, leaving me clenching around nothing, and brought his slick soaked fingers to my lips. “Taste yourself,” he grinned. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, tasting first, then sucking his fingers clean. “Good girl,” he said and stepped back. “Now go to bed. Before I decide to f**k the living daylights out of you right now.” He disappeared into the dark, leaving me trembling on the table.