Beast

Brunette

“Hey, ‘Nessa, sweet tits, why dontcha come on over here and suck my dick for me?”

I ignored him and kept walking toward the driveway. “Fuck off, Denny, you perv.” It had gotten to be a regular thing, the way he talked to me, and I kept thinking maybe I should tell my dad about it. Denny owed Dad big time for letting him move into the garage apartment – what used to be the “chauffeur’s quarters,” back in the days when the house’s owners would have had a live-in driver – after his latest woman kicked his ass to the curb a couple of months ago, and I didn’t think Dad would be thrilled about his old buddy Den talking to his darling daughter like that.

He only did it when no one else was around to hear it, though, and to be honest even if I did complain I wasn’t all that sure that Dad wouldn’t just tell me to ignore him, and not actually do or say anything to make Denny stop. Kind of sad that he wouldn’t take his daughter’s side, but he and Denny went way back.

He’d been my dad’s foreman since I was a kid, and the two of them were thick as thieves. I figured Dad kept Denny around mostly to remind him of the good old days, before Dad got respectable, when they’d worked construction together while Dad was building the company. I supposed Denny must have been good at his job, since the business was doing so well, and Dad seemed to trust him, but he definitely didn’t fit in with the crowd Dad ran with now.

I, on the other hand, had been raised to be part of Dad’s new image. Private schools and tennis instruction, starting back before we could even really afford either; deportment lessons (which basically means learning what fork to eat with, and to keep your knees together when you sit down so nobody gets an up-skirt shot), and of course making friends at his precious country club. Dad had gotten a hair transplant and dental veneers, and a new wife with fake boobs and a year-round tan. He seemed happy enough with his move up the social ladder, but I’d found him camped out with Denny by the pool over beers enough evenings to know there was still a good bit of the hardhat left in the executive.

If it made him happy to keep in touch with his roots, I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that for him. So I put up with Denny’s bullshit and hoped he wasn’t going to become a permanent fixture around the place.

There was not one single refined or suave thing about Denny Cavanaugh. He was 6’2″ of hard, lean muscle, with a tiny bit of thickening around his waist, a head full of shaggy black hair just starting to gray a little at the temples, and icy blue eyes that seemed to burn through my clothes like a laser. He was crude and rude and an all-around obnoxious jackass, and most of the time I really hated his guts.

The fact that I also regularly fantasized about him fucking me senseless probably meant I had some major mental health issues.

The idea should have grossed me out – the man was something like fifteen years older than me, and he wasn’t even close to being my type. Even if I hadn’t been with my boyfriend Henry for almost two years, there were plenty of other young guys around that I would have gone out with, guys who were good-looking, and liked a lot of the same things I did, said the right things and treated me decently, whose parents probably had as much money as mine or more… The “right” kind of guy. Everything Denny wasn’t.

Maybe it was just because he was completely inappropriate, but when I went to bed and reached for my vibrator, it wasn’t clean-cut guys like Henry that invaded my brain and got me wet – it was Denny the beast.

Denny, covered in sweat and grime at the end of a work day and looking like some kind of feral animal, bending me over the nearest table, ripping my panties off and shoving his cock into me.

Denny, with his hands easily twice the size of mine, and those long thick fingers like bratwurst. I don’t know what it is about hands that gets me so hot, but the thought of his big meaty digits thrusting and twisting between my legs made me flood my panties every time.

In my fantasies Denny rutted into me from behind, mauling my tits and spewing some filth in my ear, or he fucked me up against a wall with my legs wrapped around his waist and his jeans in a heap around his ankles. In every image I was helpless, struggling and impaled on his huge cock as he pumped me… I came so loudly sometimes it surprised me that my stepmother Lorna hadn’t been startled straight out of her three G&T haze and come running to make sure I wasn’t being murdered.

Tonight I didn’t have time to indulge either my own horny hallucinations or Denny’s lewd commentary. I was already going to be late to dinner at the club, and I’d have to be extra sweet and cooperative to make up for the lapse.

Daddy was hosting some business associates for dinner, something about the big riverfront development that was in the works, and I had promised to make an appearance and be polite. I called Henry as soon as I knew almanbahis giriş about it and made sure he’d be there, so I could at least have an out once I’d done my daughterly duty and made nice with the bigwigs.

The whole country club scene was a huge bore most of the time, but since I graduated Dartmouth in June Dad had been insisting that I make an appearance at least once a week “for networking.” In other words, sucking up to important people who might give me a job. I was more into enjoying myself for the summer, after sixteen years of school.

Dad took it personally when I acted my age instead of like a forty-something corporate drone; he had firm ideas about proper behavior and if I didn’t conform he thought it reflected badly on him. These little confabs at the club were all designed to help score him some big contract or otherwise advance his quest to be King of the Builders, and he always wanted to show me off like evidence that he was high-class enough to roll with the big boys. Look, here’s my daughter with her Ivy League education, I’m a self-made man but I value the same things you do. It made me feel a little like a sideshow freak, but I knew it was important to him, so I played along.

The outfit I picked needed to be a compromise between the business dinner and the Friday night fun that would follow – classy, yet tight enough to show off the goods when I got to dancing later. For that matter, I’d seen the way some of Dad’s business associates looked at me, and if this crew was the same maybe a little sexiness would improve the negotiations.

I settled on an off-white Lycra sheath, cut straight across the top and low enough to show off plenty of cleavage, with wide shoulder straps to hold it up and built-in cups so I didn’t have to bother with a bra, not that my perky girls really needed one. The dress stopped about halfway down my thighs, molded so tightly to my body I couldn’t have fit a sheet of paper between the fabric and my skin. My underwear options were reduced to a thong, pale pink and lacy. From the look I got in the mirror, it looked like I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Probably because, really – I wasn’t.

My curly red hair was up off my neck, in deference to the heat and humidity, and I’d loosely caught it in a clip that let it cascade down the back of my head in ringlets while still leaving my nape exposed. I opted for just a small pair of gold hoop earrings and the slender gold wristwatch my mom had given me for college graduation, and on my feet a little pair of white strappy sandals with gold buckles and 4″ heels that made me stick out my boobs and ass just to keep my balance.

The winter-white dress clung to my curves and set off my peachy-pale skin and freckles, giving me that pure-yet-a-little-slutty vibe. It was perfect. Sashay in and wow the execs, then I’d be off to dance the night away with Henry and Dash and Jess and Whitney and whoever else fell into our gravitational field.

I reached for my phone as the company driver opened the car door for me – a text to Dad would keep him from freaking out, thinking I’d blown him off – and it wasn’t in my clutch. Damn it, I thought, thinking back to the last time I’d used it.

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” I told the driver – not that he was going anywhere without me. It wasn’t quite the same as having a chauffeur in residence, but I won’t lie and tell you it isn’t pretty sweet to have a guy whose whole job it is to drive you around and get you where you’re going. Screw designated drivers, give me one of these any time.

As I rounded the corner of the house I ran smack into a hard, warm body, and it almost knocked the wind out of me. His hands grabbed me around the hips to balance us both, and I smelled sweat and cigarettes and beer: Denny.

“Well, hello there, sweet thing. You comin’ back ’cause you forgot to kiss Denny goodbye?”

I struggled against his restraining hands. “Let go, Den. I swear to Christ, if you get my dress dirty…”

He chuckled and let his hands wander down to my ass, pulling me up against his groin, letting me feel his thickness jabbing into my hip. “Take it easy, princess, I washed up and changed when I got home.” His hands roamed lower, squeezing one cheek and stroking the back of my thigh, and I shivered and felt my nipples pop hard. “I was going to say ‘don’t get your panties in a wad,’ but I don’t think you’re wearin’ any.”

I pushed myself away from him with both hands, my palms sticking lightly to the damp skin of his pecs. Denny released his hold, but he braced his hands against the sides of the walkway, blocking my path and eyeballing me like I was a tasty piece of candy. My breath got a little short as I looked at his bare chest and thought about sucking and biting at his nipples. God, I so did not have time for this.

“Move, dickhead. I’m supposed to meet Dad and Lorna at the club, and you know he won’t like it if he hears you made me late.”

“Well, almanbahis fuck me for living, princess. I was just tryin’ to be nice.” He stepped to the side, just far enough that I could slide by him, making sure I had to drag my ass over the front of his jeans to get past. “Mm, mm, mm. Pity you’re in such an all-fired hurry to go, Vanessa. You’re lookin’ good enough to eat.” He smacked his lips and waggled his tongue, just in case I wasn’t already totally clear on his meaning, and every muscle in my body clenched at the mental image of him snaking that long tongue into me. I tried to tell myself that he disgusted me, but the wetness between my thighs told a different story.

“Get yourself some new material, Den. Your play’s getting old.” I ran up the back stairs to retrieve my phone and went out the side door to be sure I avoided him on the way out.

“You’re home early.”

It wasn’t like I was sneaking in, but I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone else out there, and Denny’s voice in the dark about made me jump out of my skin.

He was sitting on the stairs up to his apartment, just barely visible at the edge of the patio lights. Once I figured out where he was I moved to where I could see him, so I wouldn’t be standing there talking to thin air. I mostly kept back in the shadows, though. Dancing and other, more private activities had left me sweated up and my hair-do looking pretty ragged, and I could do without any of his suggestive comments.

“So, party break up early, or what?” It bugged me that he asked, because I really didn’t want to talk about it, and besides, what was it to him? I swear, the man had radar for what would piss me off the fastest and went right for my tender spots every time.

“Party’s still going on. You know how those things are.” Except he didn’t, because Denny and country clubs might have existed in different universes, as likely as he was to ever be invited to one. I knew that he probably didn’t give a shit about being excluded – I’d heard him ridiculing the tennis-and-golf crowd often enough – but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to needle him, as lame an effort as it might be. “The whole thing sucked, honestly. Henry got drunk and I didn’t feel like babysitting him again tonight, so I dumped him on his brother and left.” I didn’t know why I was telling him. It wasn’t like he was going to give me any sympathy.

“Ah, young Henry,” Denny scoffed. My boyfriend was one of Denny’s favorite targets. He talked shit about him all the time around me, how pretty he was (well, he is) and how nicely he dressed, basically implying that Henry might not be all that into girls. To be honest, considering how rarely I managed to get Henry to fuck me, maybe he wasn’t wrong, but I’d sooner have my head shaved on the courthouse steps at high noon on the Fourth of July than ever admit Denny was right about anything. “Let me guess,” he sneered. “You sucked his cock for him, he maybe fingered you a little but he didn’t get you off. Such a nice young man. You sure know how to pick ’em, sweetheart.”

“You’re a pig, Denny.” The pisser was that he was mostly right. Again. Henry had started doing shots well before I’d even gotten there, and by the time dinner was over and people started dancing, he’d been so shitfaced I couldn’t even keep him hard, and forget him being able to find my clit. I’d been so fucking horny by the time I’d gotten away from Denny earlier, all I wanted was to find Henry and get him to ball me up against the wall of the groundskeeper’s office, but his drunk inept fumbling didn’t do shit for me. Goddamn Denny and his ESP. It was his fucking fault I was so turned on in the first place.

“I may be a pig, but I know what to do with a fine piece of ass like you, and it ain’t sendin’ ’em home frustrated, with a wet pussy and no one to take care of it for you.” He leered at me and dropped his hand to his crotch, wrapping his fingers around himself through the denim and yanking like he was starting a mower. My eyes followed the motion of his hand, and I saw the dimensions of what he was holding. Jesus fucking Christ. I’d seen his bulge before and knew he was pretty big, but the way he cradled it in his hand, with the fabric pulled tight around it, left absolutely no doubt in my mind.

Denny gave a big, dirty laugh, and I tore my eyes away from the crotch of his Levis. He was looking at my face, gauging my reaction. “Bet your pretty-boy Henry doesn’t have anything like this in his pants,” he said. “If he did, you wouldn’t look like you just came in from the desert and I’m an oasis. God, girl, your tongue’s practically hanging out. You want Denny to show you his big cock?”

I did. Fuck me blind, but I did. He was sitting there in just his jeans, his hard chest tan and ripped, those muscles down both sides of his abs leading relentlessly to his groin, and so help me god I wanted to see everything. I wanted to walk right up to him and undo his fly and suck him down like a popsicle.

He stood, almanbahis giriş almost posing, his legs spread wide and his hips shot forward, with the monster in his pants pushing his fly out like a tent pole. I felt a trickle run from my puss, and the expectant electric thrum between my legs that made it hard to think of any reason why I shouldn’t just go up there and let him fuck me like I needed.

I really did try. And I couldn’t come up with a thing.

I picked up my shoes and walked carefully up to the landing where he was waiting. I stopped two steps below, with his crotch just at the level of my mouth, and I reached a hand out and cupped his balls through the fabric. Denny laughed and pumped his hips toward my fingers.

“You like them goose eggs? Bet you’d like to suck on ’em, wouldn’t you.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me the rest of the way up beside him, pushing me back against the railing with his thigh hard against my mound. He grabbed my chin and tipped my head back to see my dilated pupils, a mocking grin on his face as he ground his crotch into me. “Yeah, look at you, all ripe. You need to be fucked good and hard, princess.”

He took the hem of my dress in both hands and shoved it up over my hips, hooking my thong down to my knees, and stuck a fat finger between my pussy lips. I heard his breath hiss as he felt how slick I was, and he shoved that finger forward and straight into my cunt, making me moan at the intrusion. He leaned hard into me, his breath coming loud in my ear as he slid a second finger in next to the first and started to fuck them in and out of me. They stretched me out more than Henry ever had.

“Oh, yeah, Denny’s gonna fuck that tight pussy of yours, ‘Nessa,” he whispered harshly. “Stick my big dick all the way in you. You feel me? You’re all juicy, just waitin’ for me. Gonna stick my tongue right up your box and eat you. Make you come on my tongue. You want Denny’s cock, don’t you. Say you want it. Hot little bitch.” He was babbling, his voice coarse and full of lust, and every filthy word made me grind hard against his hand, fucking his fingers deeper into me, his thumb flicking over my clit. “Say it!” He pulled his fingers out, leaving me bent backward and panting for him to fill me up again.

“Say it or you can just go fuck your vibrator again.” My head came up and I stared at him. He had to be guessing about that. There was no way he could know for sure… unless he’d gone in my bedroom and dug through my drawers.

Before I could even get the words out to ask him what he was talking about, he’d grabbed my arm and was starting to push me down the stairs ahead of him. “Denny don’t need your stuck-up cooze. If you can’t ask nice, you don’t get anything more of Denny.”

If I had to go back to my room like this and be stuck with only my silicone best buddy I was going to cry. What I wanted was Denny’s hot, hard cock, and his fingers on my clit. I didn’t care anymore, I’d do whatever I had to to get them.

“Stop, Denny. I’ll be nice to you. What do you want me to do?”

“Say what you want. Tell Denny how much you want his cock.”

Oh, I did, and it wasn’t any effort to tell him so. “This cock, Denny?” I pulled my arm free and unbuttoned his fly, reaching through to pull him out. It was even bigger than it had felt through the fabric, long and thick as my wrist. It hung out of his jeans like a crank, so heavy in its engorged state it couldn’t bear its own weight. I fought the urge to fall on my knees right there and worship it with my hands and mouth.

“This cock, oh, fuck, oh Jesus. I’m so wet, and I need you to fuck me with it.” I ran my hand up its length, stroking the underside of the head with my thumb and marveling at the size of the thing, hot and pulsing under my fingers. Denny groaned and thrust against my hand, and my cunt fluttered all by itself, open and wanting. “Those boys I’ve been with before, they don’t know what to do with a woman, but you do. I know you do. I want you to lick my pussy, warm me up good, get me ready for your cock.” My hand kept moving, pumping him in time with my words. “Stick that monster inside me, ride me hard. Make me come. Use me. Fuck my mouth, fuck my pussy. Do whatever you want. I’m yours.”

His eyes were on fire. He spun me around and pushed me up the stairs ahead of him, the hem of my dress riding up around my waist where he’d put it. I stepped out of my thong and left it lying on the landing.

I went slow, letting my hips sway back and forth, keeping my ass pushed back so at every step Denny could see my wet pussy right in front of his nose. I paused in front of his door and let him reach around me to let us in, and I humped my ass back against his hard dick. His arm came up around my waist and pulled me back into his groin, while his other hand dove between my legs and worked my clit.

“Uuhhnngghh, you’re gonna make me…” The pleasure poured over me and I came on his fingers, right out there in the open air, where anyone could have seen us.

Denny raised his hand and stuck his fingers in his mouth, panting heavily through flared nostrils as he sucked my juices off his hand. “Sweet pussy,” he breathed. “Need to taste you. Get on in there, girl, and get on the couch.”

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