Thursday, June 19, 2025

The night before everything

When we realized we still had forty-five minutes before everyone was due to arrive, Vince turned to me in the hallway, lips against my ear, his voice a low, hungry growl.

“We never touched my walk-in closet. You know that, right?”

I gave him a slow, wicked smile. “You mean the only room I didn’t clean?”

“Exactly. It’s practically begging to be defiled.”

I laughed, breath already hitching. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He didn’t need another invitation.

Vince pulled me close, shutting the door behind us with a soft click. His arm wrapped around my waist, guiding me backward until my shoulders pressed against his hanging sports coats. His lips found my neck—hungry, rough, urgent. My back arched instinctively as his hands dove beneath the waistband of my shorts, tugging me closer, his mouth moving fast, trailing fire and need.

I slid out of my shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor without care.

“You’re still sore,” he murmured, sliding a finger deep inside me, tracing the swollen heat I hadn’t dared to touch.

“Yeah,” I breathed, breath catching. “But I still want you.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest. I yanked his shirt up over his head, shivering at the bare skin exposed. Then, with a rough, sudden motion, Vince ripped my bra off me, the fabric tearing as he exposed my breasts fully as he let the fabric fall to the floor. His mouth immediately claimed one nipple, sucking, flicking, rolling it with his tongue and teeth until I gasped, shuddering. His fingers toyed with the other, circling and teasing, until every nerve ending burned alive.

I wrapped my legs around him, and he slid back inside me, filling me so completely I whimpered against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Still so full of you.”

He moved with desperate control, thrusting deep and slow. When I climaxed, I bit into his neck to muffle the scream rising in me. His groan rolled through my body as he came inside me again, the heat pulsing between us.

We didn’t speak. We only moved, moaned, and surrendered to each other as if time were slipping through our fingers as we climaxed often.

We had 10 minutes minutes left before everyone arrived.

We stumbled into the shower together. I braced against the cool tile, barely able to stay upright. Vince dropped to his knees and devoured my swollen, aching pussy with reckless abandon. I came hard on his tongue, thighs trembling, fingers tangling in his hair. We quickly showered.

We dried off quickly. He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple and disappeared into the guest room.

I eyed the clothes he’d left for me—tight jeans, flip-flops, a bra two cups too small, and a low-cut top. I swallowed hard.
“Fuck me.”

I dressed quickly, keeping makeup minimal, knowing guests would arrive any second. The doorbell rang once. Right as I was blow-drying most of my hair, the doorbell rang again. Moments before I spritzed my favorite perfume—the one that makes Vince go wild—I heard the doorbell once more.

Seconds later, I was heading downstairs.

The charcuterie board was perfectly arranged when I joined everyone downstairs. We nibbled over cured meats, five types of gouda, fontina, garlic cheddar, pepper jack, olives, fig spread, crackers, and grapes. Laughter bounced around the room, my brother already in rare form, teased Vince about the bite mark on his neck.

“Did you deserve it?” he asked, smirking.

I chuckled. “Absolutely.”

Eventually, we moved to the table. Vince served chicken piccata, spaghetti, a massive green salad, and warm crusty bread. The aroma and taste were both intoxicating. Vince had outdone himself.

Halfway through, Pastor Ron and Sheila exchanged glances before asking, “So, how did you two meet?”

Before I could answer, Bob muttered loudly, “Vince is such a perv.”

Vince stayed calm. “She was a student of mine at the high school where I taught; Bob was my student as well but two years ahead. We first met when she wasn’t looking where she was going and tripped over her own feet. I caught her before she fell.”

“I was mortified,” I said. “And kind of... immediately in love. I spent four years pretending I didn’t feel anything, but it was horrible—being a teenager in love with a teacher who had no idea.”

“She hid it well,” Vince admitted with a soft smile as he looked at me. “No one had a clue but Bob, and he never said a thing.”

“We saw each other again only a couple of years later—at a rivalry football game between my high school and our ‘sister’ school,” I said. “I was in my twenties then. That’s when things started.”

“We dated on and off,” Vince added, glancing at my parents, whose discomfort was painfully obvious. I saw the exact moment my mom’s lips pressed into a tight line and my dad’s hand clenched his water glass just a little too hard.

Vince locked eyes with them.

“Donna. Joe. I swear I never knew how she felt about me while she was my student. There was nothing going on between us. When we met again at that game after she graduated, everything changed. She was older, different, confident and so beautiful. Just absolutely magnificent. That night, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

He paused, voice steady and clear.

“Despite the ups and mostly downs in our relationship... I’ve learned I don’t deserve her. I’m not even in her league. The things I’ve put your daughter through over the years... yet she still chooses me and I don’t know why. But I do know I am so in love with her—more than I’ve ever been with anyone. She amazes me every single day.”

Silence stretched across the table.

Bob stepped in. “It’s true. I knew she had a thing for him while we were in school. And Vince? He called me after that game, asked if I was okay with him asking her out. I straight up told him that she’s legally an adult and he doesn’t need my permission to date my kid sister. The man was awkward as hell when he called but he was respectful.”

My parents said nothing, only exchanged a glance. For the first time that evening, I saw them soften. Really soften.

Pastor Ron and Sheila—probably sensing the intensity—changed the subject. “We’re organizing a community bash for the Fourth of July. It’ll be a big event. Food, fireworks, bounce houses, live music and games for everyone.”

The rest of the meal blurred past.

After dinner, I quietly began clearing the table. I didn’t ask for help. I didn’t want it.

Vince, Ron, Sheila, my parents, and my brother were chatting in the living room.

As I loaded the dishwasher, my parents came into the kitchen.

I didn’t look up.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said flatly. “I understand why you don’t like the age gap as he’s only a few years younger than you. And you’ve never been okay with it but I don’t appreciate your judgment on a relationship going on for almost two decades – a relationship that you don’t know anny about.”

Mom opened her mouth, but I cut her off.

“No. I’m not explaining why we broke up a number of times over the years. That’s my story, his story - not yours. And it’s none of your business.”

They stood silent.

“We’re sorry,” Dad finally said.

I sighed, overwhelmed.

“I’m going upstairs.”

I walked into Vince’s bedroom, took my shoes and bra off, shut the door, and sent a quick text.

Me: Not feeling well. Going to lay down.

He was there within seconds.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to my side.

“You shouldn’t have invited them,” I whispered, sitting up. “They hold your age against you and they never thought you were good enough for me.”

Tears slipped free before I could stop them.

“They don’t see you the way I do,” I said.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just... tell everyone I’m not feeling well and that I’m going to bed. They’re welcome to stay for dessert, but please don’t let my parents come upstairs. I can’t do this again tonight.”

He nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

He kissed me softly but deep and left.

Bob checked in a few minutes later, poking his head through the door.

“You good?”

I nodded. “Just tired.”

“You need anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

He gave me a small smile, though he didn’t believe me, then left.

Sheila texted.

Sheila: Do you need anything?

Me: Thanks, but I’m okay for now. If I need anything, I’ll text Vince.

Exhaustion pulled me under. Between the sex, the cleaning, the cooking, and the weight of their disapproval, I passed out.

At some point, the printer in Vince’s office woke me with its clatter. I cracked one eye, frowned, then rolled back over.

A few hours later, I woke again when the bed dipped beside me. Vince returned, holding a glass of water, my migraine meds, and juice.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You awake?”

I nodded groggily.

“I brought these. Just in case.”

I sat up slowly, pounding headache dull beneath the surface.

He handed me the meds and juice. “Everyone enjoyed themselves. Bob said my speech made him officially approve of me.”

I smiled faintly, swallowing the meds and chasing them with juice.

“The pastor and Sheila loved me, apparently,” Vince said. “Your parents... they apologized to me. And they left a letter for you – typed and printed.”

I froze.

“Where is it?”

“On the nightstand.”

“Throw it out.”

He blinked. “You don’t want to read it?”

“Nope. If they want to talk, they can do it in person. I’m not reading an essay.”

Vince nodded, got up, and dropped the letter in the trash without a word.

I took off my panties and shirt, tossing my shirt onto the chair. I took out my contacts.

When I returned, Vince was resting naked on his bed, hands resting behind his head.

I stepped close, reached down, and took his dick in my hand.

He exhaled sharply, his dick hardening instantly.

“Thank you,” I whispered, stroking slowly, “for taking care of me tonight.”

“My god,” he moaned as I took him in my mouth, lips sliding over his length. “You’re amazing.”

Vince thrust his hips toward my mouth, pressing deeper. Seconds later, he came hard, spilling over my tongue. I swallowed every drop, savoring the taste as he murmured my name like it was a prayer.

He pulled me up onto the bed next to him and asked if I wanted to spend the night under him, with him between my legs.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He rolled me onto my back, spread my legs, and mounted me, riding me through the night. We barely paused. The last time he screamed my name as he came inside me again; I wrapped my legs tight around his waist, drinking every drop, moaning back to him.

By morning, we were utterly spent and Vince drained inside me. He held me close – my back to his chest - with one hand roaming between my thighs, his fingers sliding inside to rub my swollen g-spot as I moaned and cried out his name in pain.

His dick stirred, hardening again.

“Baby? Can you take me again?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely.

We fucked for another fifteen minutes, him shooting load after load inside me, his body trembling as he gave himself fully.

When he finally pulled out, he carried me to the bathroom for a shower. As the hot water washed over us, he helped me wash my hair. I loved how he massaged my favorite shampoo and conditioner on my scalp. I lathered up my body with soap as he washed his hair then grabbed his own bar of soap.

We finished showering, then he carried me back to bed. Kneeling before me, he ate, licked, bit, and fingered my swollen pussy until I shattered again.

“Wow,” I gasped. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, pulling on boxer briefs.

“Trying to set a world record? Or do you have a question for me?” I teased, sitting up.

“Why can’t I just please you because I want to and because I love you?” he said softly. “And yes, I have a question you never like.”

“Screw me all you want, but don’t ask me to marry you again,” I said firmly. “You know my answer. You’ve finally won my parents over—not that we needed their approval—but if you ask me, I’ll say no and I’ll break up with you.”

“Fine,” he sighed heavily. “Will you at least consider moving in with me?”

“No,” I said. “That’s almost as bad as marriage. I love that we have keys to each other’s places and that we can pop over anytime but we both need our space. We don’t need to be attached at the hip.”

His smile faltered—the hurt clear—but I was firm. He’d pushed a boundary I wouldn’t cross….he knew that I was still hurt from Randy pushing boundaries.

He got up, grabbed hid clothes, and headed to the guest bedroom. I got dressed, stripped the bed, brought the bedding to load the washing machine, started it then pulled the bedding from the dryer and brought it to his room to make his bed. When I was done, I packed my bag

I dropped my stuff to the front door then double-checked the condo to see if I missed anything and I didn’t. I left my stuff in his drawer that he cleared out for me.

“Hey. You’re leaving already?” he asked quietly, looking wounded.

“Yeah. After everything—my parents, talk about marriage and moving in—I need space. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Winning my parents over was impressive. I care deeply about you, but we’re both a bit hurt right now. Space is best for us.”

Vince nodded and leaned in to kiss me—deep, slow, and full of things neither of us were saying out loud. "Text me when you get home?" he asked, his voice soft.

"I will," I said, managing a tired smile.

He hesitated. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

I reached for the doorknob, then paused. "Give me a full day and a half. I just… need to breathe."

He didn’t argue, just nodded his head then kissed me again, pulling me flush to his body. When he pulled away, he gave me that half smile of his…that same half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth—the one he gives when he’s hurt but trying not to show it.

“Ok, my love,” he whispered has he brushed hair off of my face then gently kissed me on my lips again.

 

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