Read about Taylor and Rick's first encounter
here
.
*
"Ice cream for dinner?"
I jumped at the sound of Rick's voice, which caused me to jerk the spoon I'd been bringing to my mouth and smear part of the creamy goodness on the corner of my mouth. Becky started laughing hysterically at my jump, "Oh hey there scaredy cat! Relax — it's just my dad!"
I giggled in response.
Definitely not "just" your dad
I thought to myself, then made eye contact with Rick as I used my tongue to clear the ice cream from my face. It was a small act, one I was sure Becky wouldn't conclude anything from, but I knew Rick caught the suggestive nature. He quickly looked away from where we were sitting on stools at the black, granite-topped island in their giant kitchen, and busied himself getting a drink from the fridge.
From his reaction, I could tell he was still trying to come to terms with what had happened the last time I spent the night. That made one of us. Ever since I'd made the decision to pleasure myself in front of my best friend's dad — while he jerked off and porn played in the background — it was hard to think about anything else.
I definitely didn't regret it, that was for sure; It was the most intense orgasm I'd given myself to date, and considering I'd been fantasizing about him for almost four years before that, it was definitely built up.
And now, I wanted more. Wes, my high school boyfriend, was nice enough, but he lacked the bedroom experience to give me what I was craving — what I knew Rick could give me. And what, if things went my way, he
would
give me, before I finished high school and headed off to college. Getting my best friend's dad to fuck me was literally my personal senior project; the perfect private capstone. In my opinion, it totally fit the criteria for a capstone experience: an assignment that serves as a "culminating academic and intellectual experience for students, typically during their final year of high school..."
It would be the culmination of years of orgasms I'd given myself from thinking of him and an "academic" experience — if hands-on learning about sex can be considered academic...
I decided it
definitely
could be.
The only problem was getting back to Becky's. All I wanted since that last sleepover was to have another one, but the end of senior year was undeniably busy and kept the both of us from having the time. I was super excited then, when finally — thankfully and ironically — it was a senior project Becky and I were working on together that got me back into her house.
"No time for makin' dinner," Becky responded to her dad between mouthfuls of Ben and Jerry's. "We've got to finish this tonight." She nodded towards the papers that were spread out in front of us.
"Ricky? Are you ready?" The sing-song voice that wafted into the kitchen was followed almost immediately by the scent of perfume — a spritz too much — and Rick's girlfriend Margaret. She appeared, coiffed hair and heavy makeup, in stilettos and a skin-tight dress I was positive I'd just seen at Forever 21. Sure, she was skinny enough to pull it off, but didn't there come a point when you were supposed to stop shopping there? You know, when you were a certain number of years
passed
21?
Becky and I gave each other a look, and I'd bet money we were both thinking the word "stripper" was the most apt adjective for her getup.
"Going out?" Becky inquired.
"Dinner and a show!" Margaret responded, even though Becky was clearly addressing her dad.
"We'll be pretty late, so don't wait up," Rick added. Was that supposed to be a hint to me? Disappointment started to settle in my stomach at the thought of him leaving and not being able to see him again that evening; at the very least I'd hoped to catch him watching porn again... I was starting to wonder if my mind was accurately recalling the size of his cock.
Rick reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and tossed a couple of $20s on the counter in front of us. "Order yourselves some pizza at least. Ice cream isn't brain food."
He gave Becky a kiss on the top of her head, and his eyes locked with mine as he did so.
"See ya Mr. T!" I tried to act like I didn't care one way or the other if I saw him later. I gave him a smile and a wave.
"Byeeeee girls!" Margaret sang as she looped an arm through Rick's and they left the room.
Becky rolled her eyes at me, then picked up her phone to put in the delivery order.
***
A thrill shot through me as my eyes opened to find light coming into the guest room from the space between the door and the floor. I glanced at the clock next to the bed: 2:30 a.m. Could it be? He was usually earlier than this.
When I started sleeping in the guest room instead of sharing Becky's room with her, I'd discovered Rick was a fan of late-night television — and porn — watching; that was how I'd been able to join him the last time I slept over, and that's how I'd been planning to join him again this time... that is, until his "don't wait up" comment made me think that wasn't likely to happen.
Then again, maybe he'd been trying to hint that I
should
wait up. I tossed back the covers and got up, then walked over to the door and opened it quietly — I wanted to make sure it was actually Rick.
When I saw him sitting in the living room, I smiled to myself and, heart hammering, made my way in and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa.
"Hey Mr. T," I said as I took a seat, giving him a smile. I pulled both my legs up and crossed them on the cushion, Indian style.
He looked at me — first my eyes, then down to my tits. I was wearing a white tank top, and just like the time before, I knew he could see my hard nipples through the taut fabric. He averted his eyes a moment later and took a sip of his beer.