CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Daisy
It was kind of funny how grumpy Mr. Marks got when Lance bounded out. I mean, Mr. Marks is a handsome man, all tall, dark and gorgeous but Lance is attractive too, just in a completely different way. Lance is blonde and thin with some acne on his chin and neck but it’s okay, it’s not super-gross or anything.
But Tristan was pissed, I could tell.
“Get into the car,” he barked, and I hopped into the passenger seat, taking care to pull my legs in discreetly, tucking my skirt around my thighs. Because some masculine power struggle was already starting between Tristan and Lance and instead of hopping to, Lance slowly sauntered around the Maserati, dragging his eyes over the car’s curves sensuously, eating her up.
“Hmm, 2015 model, S-Class with all the hook-ups,” he gaggled. “What’d she cost you? 200K? 300K?”
I gasped. Isn’t it rude to talk about money, to ask how much other peoples’ stuff cost?
But Lance was even bolder than I thought.
“You know there’s the C-Class too,” he smirked. “Top of the line, why didn’t you go for that one?”
And my mouth hung open. Had he just implied that my guardian couldn’t afford the top of the line model? That Tristan was slumming it for some reason?
But the big man didn’t look bothered. Instead, he surveyed the car slowly as well.
“I thought about the C-class,” he said, “but there’ve been rumors of engine fires and didn’t want to get caught up in that shit,” he rumbled. “Not with Daisy potentially taking this to school with her.”
And I gasped again. He’d been planning on giving me the Maserati? I couldn’t. It was too much.
“No,” I said shakily. “That’s too generous, I can’t take it with me, the Accord is just fine.”
Because we had a Honda Accord at home, a blue one with not too many miles, it was perfect for the student life.
But Tristan ignored me.
“Yeah, I want Daisy to be safe,” he said smoothly, looking at Lance. “She’s amazing, right? I’ve got to take care of my best asset.”
And I gaped again. If I was reading this right, then Mr. Marks was marking off his territory in front of another male, not-so-subtly telling Lance to stay the fuck away from me.
And the teenage boy got it.
“Absolutely, a Maserati would be amazing in the hills around here, Daisy’s a lucky girl,” he said shooting me a glance. Did he suspect? Did he suspect that I was a lot more than Tristan’s ward?
But the adolescent folded himself into the backseat then and said, “Cool, thanks Mr. Marks, let’s drive up to the front gates of the school, they’ve erected a new statue there that I think you guys would get a kick out of.”
And it wasn’t bad after that. We parked the car and strolled around the grounds. Hudson really is gorgeous, all ivy-covered stone buildings and gothic spirals set against sprawling greens, paved walkways, the chatter of students as they meandered to class. Yes, I could see myself here, it wasn’t tough to imagine myself settling in, growing into a woman, exploring the world on these beautiful grounds.
And I had to share my happiness, my anticipation.
“Tristan,” I whispered turning to him as we ascended the steps of the library, “It’s beautiful here. Your alma mater’s amazing.”
And the big man acted like I’d just complimented him. A grin spread over his face, sparks dancing in his eyes.
“You think?” he ground out.
“I definitely think,” I winked as we passed through the turnstiles at the entrance, stopping at the circulation counter.
“Uh, if you don’t mind I’ll stick around here,” said Lance. “I get allergies whenever I’m around books.”
And I giggled. Lance was clearly a dumbass without an appreciation for the finer things in life. But even more obvious were the googly eyes he was making at a thin blonde at the check-out counter, a girl who was obviously bored, filing her nails disinterestedly while yawning at the clock.
“Tawny. Tawny!” he swaggered over, his pants practically falling off, they were so low on his hips. “Yo yo yo, that party last weekend fucking rocked.”
And Tristan and I just rolled our eyes. Everything about Lance was wrong, he was a dumb dolt and frat boy rolled into one, he’d probably only gotten into school here because his dad was the Dean of Admissions. As we watched him wink and smirk at the unimpressed girl, I realized that must have been it. This guy couldn’t have gotten in on his merits, he had nothing to offer judging from the drool practically hanging off his lips.
So Tristan and I walked off, leaving Lance to his shenanigans, glad to leave that train wreck behind. We wandered slowly, taking in the lighted atrium, the stacks of books soaring to the ceiling, the large study tables with banker’s lights shading each carrel.
“Did you study a lot when you were here?” I said flirtatiously.
And Mr. Marks seemed to get it immediately.
“More than you know,” he shot back. “There was a lot to learn.”
I giggled because I’d heard so much about library rendezvous, people getting it on in the back of the stacks.
“Come on, I want to show you,” he said, taking my hand, and my heart fluttered as he grabbed my fingers, big hand hard and warm. “This way, into the auxiliary wing.”
And I trailed him, wandering through a maze of stacks, wending this way and that, getting lost among millions of books.
“It’s amazing you still remember your way around here,” I said breathlessly as we took another left turn, then a right, then a left. “This place is like a labyrinth.”
But Tristan didn’t reply except to let out another grunt, dragging me past a couple potted ferns, then another left into a dark corridor until finally we came to a dimly lit area. Here there were rolling shelves everywhere, row after row of books stacked to the ceiling, the air mysteriously grey, heavy with the scent of deteriorating ancient tomes … and the scent of sex.
And as if on cue, a low moan rose in the air, a wail, a huffed sigh before dying down again.
I muffed a giggle.
“Oh my god, did we just really hear that?” I whispered. “Is this some X-rated section?”
“Baby, it’s the X-rated section,” he growled, pulling me off into one of the stacks, making a left, a right, another right, until I was positively dizzy. “But it’s not X-rated because of porno books or dirty mags or anything. It’s X-rated because this is where students get it on.”
And just like that, another sigh punctuated the air, some breathy gasps.
“Oh my god, this is so wrong,” I whispered to him as he pulled me against him, boobs pressed against the wall of muscle that was his chest.
“So wrong?” he murmured against my lips. “Tell me what’s wrong about this,” he growled before taking my mouth entirely, running his tongue against the seam, growling insistently until I opened, pulling my head back for better access, gently tugging at my hair, angling me so that he could consume.
“Ohhhh, Daddy,” I breathed, body going weak, insides gelatinous, cunt damp and steamy within seconds. “Oh god.”
But Tristan was a man with a mission.
“I popped your cherries last night,” he murmured into my ear. “And I just want to make sure my little girl’s okay, do a check-up of sorts.”
“Here?” I asked scandalized, cheeks flushing.
“There’s no place better,” he growled, his eyes looking at me ravenously. “Now turn around baby girl, bend over so that Mr. Marks can get a look.”
And slowly I turned in the narrow aisle. Slowly, oh so slowly, I bent over while looking at him mischievously over my shoulder, running my hands up and down my thick thighs, caressing my calves.
“Like this Daddy?” I asked coyly once my head was between my knees.
And Tristan had stopped breathing, the big man was stock still, eyes fixed to my bottom. Because I know what he saw. I’d skipped the panties this morning, so as I leaned forward, the hem of my skirt had begun to rise, inch after inch of my creamy thighs revealing themselves, until the bottom lips of my cunt came into view, pink, plush, swollen and wet.
And as I bent further, my whole kitty appeared, inch by delicious inch as the skirt rode up, gleaming, wet already with desire, steaming and delicious, waiting for his touch.
With one final wiggle of my hips, I flipped the skirt over my back, everything bared now and jiggled my butt at him, baiting him with my cunt, butt cheeks jouncing up and down.
“Daddy, you like?” I cooed.
But the big man had iron control and he merely leaned close, spreading my cheeks, taking in the gorgeous sight before him.
“Baby, I just want to do a check,” he rumbled, expression neutral although his eyes flashed dangerously. “I want to make sure everything’s good to go after taking your cherries yesterday.”
“Then do it,” I whispered to him, eyes wide, giving another shimmy of my hips.
And without further ado, the big man pulled my pink lips apart, looking straight up into my channel, gazing at my slit, the ruby red walls pulsing, my clit standing straight up, pulsing, begging to be touched. Slowly, he rubbed my labia at first, caressing those fleshy lips before circling to the hole where his dick would go, grazing my clit with a knuckle.
I moaned breathily, big boobs heaving.
“Things seem to be good down here, but I want to do an internal inspection,” he murmured, his mouth breathing hot air onto my clit. “Just to make sure you’re a hundred percent.” And with that, a big finger probed, tracing my opening before sliding deep into my cunt, filling me, making my sore flesh stretch oh-so-deliciously. Even his finger was huge, making me moan, my little body unaccustomed to being penetrated so many times in twenty four hours, the stretching slightly uncomfortable at first, my hips squirming as I adjusted.
“Oh Tristan!” I cried out, “oh oh oh!”
But slowly, my body loosened, moistening, creaming, and the big man took advantage of it. His fingers began a slow slide in and out, squelching noises rising in the air which each pull, caressing my insides, dropping kisses on my clit, running his tongue around that hard nub as he worked me.
“Oh!” I cried again. “Oh oh oh fuuuck!”
And I was ready to let go right then, teetering on the edge, but Tristan drew back for a moment.
“Baby I popped two cherries last night,” he ground into my puss, “it’s time to check your other hole.”
Oh god! Oh god, oh god! My ass, now?
But it was too late because Tristan pulled my butt cheeks apart and stared at my pucker hungrily, the pleats winking, flirting with him.
“Oh god,” he groaned, “I have to taste.” And with that, he buried his tongue in my behind, circling the hole first before spearing me deep, forcing the muscle into my anus.
“Oh oh oh!” I squealed, holding my cheeks apart with my hands, baring everything to him, showing him everything, bumping my hips back slightly to draw him in deeper. “Oh fuuuuck!”
Because it was so fucking good, so unbelievably fucking good. I’d gotten butt-fucked last night, and I just wanted to do it again. Would he? Was he going to fill my hole with that huge cock, the one that I could see tenting his pants, forming a wet splotch in front? But evidently, Mr. Marks was true to his word about doing an inspection.
“Babe, I gotta make sure you’re okay first,” he grunted into my behind. “I’m gonna check out the plumbing.”
And without further warning, he pushed his thumb into my behind, burying it up to the knuckle, testing me.
“Uh, fuck, you’re so tight, so hot,” he ground out as his other hand stroked my clit from below. I squirmed and wailed again, boobs heaving, bent over, grabbing my ankles as my ass was violated. “Alright, you’re alright back here, still nice and tight but all good,” he panted, big body tight. And with that, he popped his thumb out of my ass and buried his tongue in there again, lapping up my anal sweat, tasting the brown.
“That’s right baby,” he murmured into my folds. “That’s right, come with my tongue in your ass, come on Daddy’s face.”
And it was all so unexpected that I went over the edge. I gave it up right then, my pussy creaming, shaking hard as his hand stroked my clit, my ass and kitty clenching, spasming hard as I orgasmed, shaking, moaning, trembling, my body on high. Oh fuck, it was so amazing, tremors running through my cunt, the shivers electric on my spine, tingling all the way to my fingers and toes, making me moan, my knees growing weak and I almost collapsed right then and there, ass and pussy on fire.
But Tristan anticipated it all and held me by the waist even as he continued to tongue my pucker.
“That’s it,” he murmured into my ass cheeks, voice muffled by the fleshy orbs. “That’s my little butt slut, come while Daddy buttfucks you with his tongue.”
And the words, the dirty, filthy words did it. Another wave of sensation crashed over me and my world went dark with pleasure.