Too Big: Man of the House 2 (2 page)

When I woke up, my head was pounding and I was stiff from lying curled up against the wall. I slowly detangled myself from my own limbs and stood up, and yawned. When I brought my hand up to my face, I realized I needed a shower. I snagged my old bathrobe and a towel and headed into the bathroom.
 

Never had I felt so stiff. I leaned on the wall and let the heat from the water soak into my muscles, and thought about taking a bath. For a long while I just leaned against the wall and hugged my arms around my ribs and let my hair soak up the water and stick to my neck. Finally I grabbed the soap and started lathering up, humming quietly to myself. After a rinse I turned the water off and stood there shivering, dripping dry, my hands pressed into the tiles between the knob and the shower head.

At last I steeled myself to step out of the frigid air and threw back the shower curtain.
 

Dad was standing in front of the sink, stripped to the waist in baggy sweats, his unkempt hair in a halo around his head. A froth of toothpaste was on hips lips and the brush was stuck in his mouth. He glanced over and then froze mid-brush, eyes going wide as it dawned on him that he was staring at my completely nude, glistening wet body.
 

We both just sort of hung there in a frozen moment. I could see his eyes moving as he took in a view of my entire body from my ankles up over my belly and my chest and finally his eyes locked on mine and his mouth fell open and the toothbrush fell out and landed in the sink with a soft clink.
 

Shrieking, I yanked the shower curtain back and jumped back into the tub at the exact moment he barked “I’m sorry!” and started to run out of the room. My feet slipped out from under me, I hit the wall, and I slid down into the tub, yelping as my landing sent a jolt of pain up from my tailbone that squeezed all the breath out of my lungs. A half-full bottle of shampoo slid off the shower caddy and thumped me on the head, and my vision swirled and I cried out again.
 

The curtain slid back with a loud clatter of the metal rings that held it up. There he was, looming over me. My arms snapped closed over my chest and I twisted.
 

“Are you okay?”
 

“Daddy,” I croaked.
 

“Are you hurt?”
 

I nodded.
 

He lifted my shoulders in his arm and slipped the towel around me, wrapping me up in it. It was one of our old beach towels, harsh and scratchy but big enough to sweep around me twice and tighten around my body as he scooped me right up out of the bathtub into his arms and carried me, newlywed style out of the bathroom. He walked into my room, turning to carry me through the door, and lowered me onto the bed.
 

He disappeared, then reappeared a moment later and wrapped a towel around my head to cover up my soaking hair, but not before he ran his hand through it and felt over my scalp.

“No bump. That bottle hit you in the head?”
 

I nodded.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you were your mother. I sort of forgot you were home.”
 

“My butt hurts,” I said.
 

He blinked. “I’m sorry.”
 

“Why don’t you, um,” he said.
 

He turned to leave. My arm shot out and I grabbed his wrist. Since my arm had been trapped in the towel, the towel pulled away from my chest. I grabbed it in my other hand and tucked it up against me.
 

“What?” he said.
 

I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs. My grip tightened. My breath was coming out in ragged gasps and my vision blurred a little. If I were an older, sophisticated woman I might have something different, something seductive, but I was a scared, confused eighteen going on nineteen year old girl and I pulled his hand to my chest and pressed my breast into his palm.
 

He stood there for a second. His hands were surprisingly rough. History professors aren’t supposed to have rough hands. They’re supposed to have city hands. But he worked out and he didn’t wear gloves, so his palm was coarse and he had little pads of thick callous at the base of all his fingers and they were rough and scratchy on my skin. I felt my nipple harden and draw into a point against his palm.
 

His fingers closed and he squeezed, lightly. It made me gasp and jump a little. His mouth was open just a bit. He needed a shave. He was looking me right in the face. He kept his hand there, and I felt my breast pressing against his grasp as I breathed. He just sort of froze.
 

My arms sank to my sides. The towel slid down my body and settled around my waist as I sat up. His hand still pressed against me, and he was still squeezing, lightly. I took his wrist in both hands and tugged, moving to the other side. My skin had reddened where he touched me. Where I made him touch me.
 

“What are you doing?” he said.
 

“Please,” I whispered.
 

He swallowed. He pulled his hand out of mine and I thought he was going to leave. I sucked back on a ragged, whickering sob and was about to beg when he sat down on the bed, took the towel, and slid it lower, exposing my belly. He put both hands on my sides and moved them up and down, his touch so light it bordered on a tickle. It made me gasp and flinch and I felt my breasts bounce just a little, and smiled inwardly as he stared at them.
 

His hands moved up my sides, under my arms. His thumbs grazed the outer curve of my breasts as he moved his hands over my shoulders, squeezed them lightly, and moved on. His hands slid around my throat and he gripped my neck and ran his thumbs along the curve of my jaw, then moved them up to cup my cheeks. He shifted onto the bed.

Toothpaste. He smelled like toothpaste and old sex. He was pushing me down into the bed but gently, holding my head in his hands. I slithered under him until I was lying down. My hands moved on their own, found his sides. Touching him shocked me. His skin was warm and soft on his sides. I could feel his ribs under it and bunching muscles flexing where I touched.
 

He was close to me. His breath was in my nose, tickling my lips. I crossed the gap. My head rose up off the pillow and I kissed him. A thrill shot from my lips down through my body and when it landed between my legs it caught fire and clenched up. I shifted under him, shimmying and squirming around until the towel was under me, not on me, and I was naked and cold.
 

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of me. His lips moved over my chin and down my throat, and he planted small, soft kisses along the arch of my collarbone. My legs lifted up and my knees touched his flanks. He lifted up, resting his hands on the bed, his stomach flexing as he breathed. He stared into my eyes.
 

“We can’t. You’re mother…”
 

“Isn’t here,” I whispered, dragging my nails over his chest. “Please.”
 

He swallowed. I watched his adam’s apple bob. Then I sat up and I kissed his neck, and he growled hungrily and pressed me into the bed, wrapping his arms around me. A shocked gasp escaped my throat and a thrill ran up my spine when I felt the hard heaviness of his cock against my leg, pressing through his pants.
 

My hand moved down his body, tracing over the soft skin and coarse gray hair. I slid my hand under the elastic and felt for the waist of his boxers and slipped my hand inside. The heat was intense this close to his body, like sticking my hand in an oven. I put my hand on the flat of his belly and ran it down until I could close my fingers around his shaft.
 

He was enormous, even bigger hard than he had been before. I couldn’t fit my fingers around it, it was so thick. The head filled my palm. He groaned and his body jerked from the shock of my explorations. He settled on top of me, his warm body pressing against my stomach, trapping my hand under him. I gripped his cock tightly and felt it pulse in my grasp.
 

Gently, he freed my hand. He took both of my wrists and pinned them back beside my head, holding them down. My fingers twitched and curled as he kissed me roughly, forcing his tongue into my mouth, exploring before he pulled away and kissed down my neck again, this time moving lower. Pinned down, all I could do was writhe under him as his warm moist lips closed around my nipple and sucked, hard.
 

I groaned and arched my back and pressed up into him, feeling his chest slide against my stomach. He kissed all around my chest, and when he found the sensitive skin under my breast I cried out and my arms moved. I wanted to seize his head and pin him there, but his grip was too strong on my wrists. He continued to hold me down as he moved lower, and only let go as his lips moved over the tight, quivering skin of my stomach.
 

My legs fell open, the tension easing out of them as my hips canted up and I exposed myself. He let to of my wrists so he could run his fingers over my lower stomach and the insides of my thighs, lightly, tracing little electric trails in the darkness as I closed my eyes and gave into the sensation. My pussy was throbbing, and I let out a girlish squeak when his finger brushed over my lips.
 

“Your bush is cute,” he said.
 

My eyes snapped open.
 
“What?”
 

He shoved his face in my crotch, mouth open. I jerked upright and slammed back down into the bed as his tongue traced over my pussy lips and up over my clit. I folded my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold and exposed.
 

“Fuck me,” I pleaded, “Fuck me Dadd. Please.”
 

He lifted up, licking his lips. He brushed his chin with the back of his hand.
 

“Tell me how you want it.”
 

“Give it to me the way Mom likes it,” I whispered. “Like last night.”
 

He lifted up and shimmied out of his sweats and they fell on the floor. His gigantic rod was bouncing against his belly, heavy with its hardness. I rolled over onto my stomach, pulling the towel under me. This was going to be wet.
 

“Are you sure?” he said.
 

I nodded. My throat was too tight with excitement to speak. I felt so exposed with my ass turned up to him. I started to move but he shifted over me and trapped my legs together, squeezing mine between his. He leaned over me and found my wrists and pinned my hands down next to my head.
 

“You have a tight little ass,” he growled, moving towards me. I felt his cock sliding against my thigh, then the big heavy heat of the thick head pressed into my entrance and I let out a sharp gasp.
 

“You want it?”
 

“I want it,” I croaked, nodding, bouncing my chin on the bed.

“Say please.”
 

“Please, Daddy, give it to me.”
 

Holding my wrists down, he stretched, spreading over me, and the motion pushed him against me. My teeth clenched and my eyes shot open, the sting of first tears matching the sting as he entered me, his enormous cock spreading me apart. I sank into the bed, moaning from the feeling of his enormous manhood pulling me open as he slid inside.
 

Slow. He went so slow, barely moving at all. I could feel his whole body tensing as he pushed into me. Straining to hold back and straining to push through the tightness of my body all at once. With his hands locked around my wrist I gathered up the sheets in my fists and clenched them tightly.
 

Finally his weight lowered onto my back and pressed me into the bed. I felt his lips inches away from my ears, his hot breath on my cheek.
 

“Are you okay?” he whispered.
 

I nodded.
 

He rocked his hips, slowly at first, then faster, grinding into me, his cock reaching deep inside me, so huge and so filling. He let go of one of my wrists and his arm snaked under my body, then the other, and he held me around the waist as one hand slipped between my legs.
 

A gasp tore out of my throat when his fingers moved lightly over my swollen, throbbing lips, then moved to play with my clit, lightly circling it with the barest touch. It was too much. I jerked under him, grinding my back into his chest, my legs shaking from the shock of his touch.
 

I was overwhelmed. Sweat prickled on my shoulders, my chest, between my shoulder blades, on my forehead and behind my knees and elbows. I felt like I was on fire, and the heat was softening me. Most of all I felt something moving inside me, rocking in time with his thrusts, bigger than me but somehow confined within my skin.
 

I settled into a dull haze, each of his thrusts pushing a grunt out from deep in my throat, until I was shuddering and writhing. I felt like a passenger in my own body as I melted into a puddle and my arms and legs moved on their own, tensing. The heat on my cheeks was like flame, and I went from feeling utterly exposed to totally surrounded, swept up and crushed in his arms as he wrapped one around my chest and pinned my arms to my sides and his other hand worked my clit.
 

I bucked under him and screamed. It was blinding, all consuming, burning me to cinders as I fell into ice water and through the frantic motions I found a strange peace as the tension ease out of my limbs and left me lying under him, stars floating in my eyes.
 

“Uhhhhh,” was all I could manage.
 

He pulled out of me, all at once. His hugeness made it near painful.
 

“Roll over,” he commanded.
 

“Uh,” I said.
 

“Roll,” he said, sharply,
 
“Over.”
 

He had to help me. I flopped over onto my back, exhausted. He mounted me almost in one motion, crawling over me, sliding his belly against mine as his face filled my vision and his hard cock filled my body. The shock of being entered again made me moan and buck under him, and then he had my wrists and my hands, holding them against the bed. My legs slipped up around him as I welcomed him into my body.