Kennedy
Tonight has been fun.
I enjoy being around the team, and it’s been nice spending time with them both in and outside of work. I used to be so afraid of getting in trouble for it, trying to be the perfect employee. But now, I just don’t care.
If Dr. Fredrick was going to fire me, he would’ve done it a long time ago, but he knows he can’t because I’ve done nothing to warrant it.
Well, other than marrying one of his players. And blowing said player in the restroom at work. God, that was fun.
“Ken!” Max yells, pointing down at me from where he sits on his dad’s shoulders. He has no idea how loud he is, thanks to the giant earmuffs he’s got on to protect his hearing from the fireworks that are about to start.
“Are you excited, Bug?”
He just smiles at me, unable to hear anything I have to say, and I smile right back.
A kiss lands on the top of my shoulder as Isaiah braces two hands on the metal fence in front of me, caging me in. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I like when you smile, Ken.” “Me too.”
“Just for clarification, I think you’re stunning all of the time, but happy looks real fucking good on you.”
Leaning back, my head hits the middle of his chest as we wait for the fireworks to start.
Maybe no one has ever let you feel safe and that’s why you’re not affectionate.
I remember those words so clearly. He said them that night we went to dinner when I asked him to teach me how to be better with physical closeness.
I didn’t know then, but he was right.
Hands sliding down his biceps, I pull his arms in to fold over me just as the first firework travels into the air. There’s a collective wondrous gasp as red light illuminates the dark Chicago sky.
“You are, right?” he asks low in my ear as the show begins to build. “Happy.”
Tilting to see him, the concern is evident on his face.
Of course I’m happy, but he’s referring to how I feel about not going to San Francisco, and I don’t want to talk about that right now.
I don’t want to talk at all.
“Come with me,” I say, taking his hand in mine and pulling him to follow me down the pier.
“Where are we going?”
“I have a different place I want to watch the fireworks from. Some place where I can show you just how happy you make me.”
The door to my apartment isn’t even closed before I toss his hat I’m wearing to the floor and slip my T-shirt over my head.
“Well, fuck,” he drawls.
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I want you to do. Fuck me.” Crossing the living room, I throw open the curtains, allowing them to frame the fireworks show that’s still going on outside.
“Right here.”
Kicking off my shoes, I slip my shorts down my legs, leaving me in only my bra and underwear, standing right there in front of the window. Looking like the needy woman I am.
I’m so fucking desperate for him, it’d be embarrassing if I didn’t know exactly the way he felt about me.
Across the room, Isaiah closes the door without looking away from me, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he stares.
Slowly, deliberately slowly, I reach behind and unclasp my bra. “Close the curtain.”
“No.”
His jaw tics. “Kenny, I could give two fucks what the view out there looks like, but I’m sure as hell not sharing this view of you with anyone else. Close the fucking curtain.”
A rebellious smile hitches when I allow my bra to drop off my shoulders. “Kennedy.”
“It’s a one-way mirror, caveman. We can see out, but they can’t see in.” A beat passes before he huffs a laugh, but it’s dry and without humor.
Isaiah crosses the living room, right to the bar where some too expensive whiskey sits in a decanter. He pours himself a glass, leans back against the counter, and slowly brings the whiskey to his lips.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Hands palming my breasts, I lightly squeeze, needing hands on my body, even if they’re my own. “I thought that was obvious.”
His eyes are glued on my fingers as I tweak my nipples. He takes another slow sip. “Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me where you want me to fuck you.”
My cheeks go warm as he sits back for his own personal show, the fireworks exploding in light behind me.
My hands are still roaming over my breasts.
“Your perfect tits,” he says. “I’ll fuck those tonight. Anything else?”
I run a single hand down my stomach, letting my middle finger glide over my underwear, over my pussy, lightly teasing my clit.
“I can’t see what you’re touching, Ken.”
“I’m touching this.” Using the waistband at my hips, I pull my panties up tight, letting the fabric slip between my pussy, but still not showing him everything.
“Tease.”
My body feels his appreciative stare from across the room as it starts to move and sway on its own accord. His eyes are glued, focused on only me, not paying attention to the show just outside. No one has ever looked at me the way he does. I’ve never been worshiped the way he worships me. Have never had to question him because he’s so steadfast in his feelings for me.
I keep my panties on, but push them to the side. “Lose them,” he says before taking another swig.
So, I do, right there in front of the window, I kick them off and leave myself fully naked while Isaiah stands across the room still fully clothed.
My fingers find my clit again, and his eyes bounce from mine to between my legs and back again. Smiling at me like he knows a secret, like he’s proud of me for standing naked and fingering myself for him.
“You love to do whatever I tell you to do when you’re like this, huh?
Needy and desperate for it.” My nod is frantic.
“Then put that finger inside that perfect cunt of yours and show me exactly where you want me to fuck you.”
So, I do, slipping my finger inside. Slowly at first, just to the first knuckle.
He shakes his head. “More.”
Second knuckle and it has me rocking into my hand with a whimper of a moan. My other hand grabs my tit and squeezes.
“Fuck.” It comes out like a breath of air before he throws back the rest of the drink, discards the empty glass by tossing it on the couch, and stalks across the room. In three predatory steps, he has me pinned to the window.
Ass cheeks pressed to the glass, and finger still in my pussy, I thrust in and out. It’s far too easy. I’m far too wet.
Isaiah watches between us, using his foot to nudge my legs apart. He uses a single index finger to glide up my inner thigh, gathering my arousal.
“Pretty,” he hums his approval, and just as I think he’s going to slip that finger into his own mouth, he instead presses it to the seam of mine. “Open.”
I do.
“You need to taste this for yourself, maybe then you’ll understand why I’m so far gone. You taste like fucking heaven.”
He guides his finger into my mouth, and I don’t hesitate to lick a long line before sucking myself off him.
When he pulls his finger from my mouth, it’s with a lewd pop, and immediately my hands slide to his waistband.
“I didn’t tell you to stop fucking your finger, Kenny.”
I still for a beat before sliding my finger back inside my pussy, only to quickly add a second.
“Goddamn, you’re so good.” He makes quick work of his shoes and pants, leaving only his shirt on. “So fucking smart. So fucking sweet when you want to be. So fucking mine.”
“Yes,” is all I can say, head thrown back against the window. The loud pops of fireworks are dulled from the pounding orgasm that’s begging to release. My two fingers aren’t enough.
My eyes are glued to his cock, the way it works in his fist. Fuck, he’s hard already.
Isaiah flips me around, tits pressed to the glass. “Watch the show, baby.
That’s what you wanted to do.”
I moan, rolling my body against the window, one hand bracing myself against it, the other working myself.
But then he pulls my fingers out of my cunt and instead, slides them up to my clit. “You don’t stop touching yourself, okay, Ken?”
He helps me circle my clit, using the pads of his fingers to press into mine.
My exhale is hot, leaving a foggy film over the window, but that’s nowhere near as filthy as when Isaiah slams his hand against the glass to brace himself, smearing my arousal for both of us to see.
“Arch that ass for me, baby.”
I don’t hesitate and just as more fireworks soar into the sky, Isaiah notches the head of his cock at my entrance, and when the resounding boom echoes around us, he pushes himself inside.
“Fuck,” I cry out.
He pulls out and pushes back so easily. I’m so wet, so ready to come.
I don’t even realize when my fingers stop moving. I’m so focused on the way Isaiah’s cock buries itself in me, stealing my breath from me.
“What did I say? Keep rubbing your clit.”
So, I do, in quick, tight little circles because I’m already so fucking close. “Do you know how lucky I am, Kennedy?”
I whimper against the glass.
“Do you understand how smart, how capable, how fucking special you are?”
His words have me clenching around him. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to boost my ego after that phone call.
It’s working.
“I have waited, and fucking waited for this. You’re my answered prayer.
You know that?”
My fingers move frantically as he fucks me from behind.
“You want to know what my favorite part of the last couple months is, other than getting to fuck this cunt that was made for me? It’s getting to watch you come alive. You know that, Kenny?” He thrusts deep, continually hitting me right where I need him. “The way you smile. The way you laugh now. Fuck, I could come just thinking about it.”
His knuckles turn white as he flexes his hand into a fist against the glass, his other hand digging into my hip, fingertips sure to leave bruises there for me to find tomorrow.
Bending over me, his mouth meets the crook of my neck. “God, I love you.”
That’s all it takes.
“Isaiah,” I cry out, clenching around him.
I’ve never had someone say those words to me before. Not a single person. Never even had someone try to pretend they meant them.
But there’s not a question in my mind that he does. It’s what allows the blinding orgasm to rip through me, writhing into the glass, the fireworks outside looking real inconsequential compared to the ones racking my body.
“Fuck me, you’re pulsing,” he says, still buried deep inside of me. I ride it out, and once I’m done, he slowly slides out of me.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, fingers threaded into my hair when he gently pulls to turn my face to him.
He kisses me right there, freshly fucked and slumped against the window. I hardly notice when he turns me around and guides me down to my knees. I’m too focused on the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I sit up on
shaky, spent legs, my hooded eyes locked on his glistening cock.
His lips tilt with mischief as he looks down at me. “It’s about time you get on your knees for me. I’ve spent the last three years on mine for you.”
I hold my head high. “I fucking love being on my knees for you.” “Mmm,” he hums, finger and thumb keeping my chin up and my
attention focused on him. “And don’t you look pretty down there.”
He keeps his eyes on me as he uses a single hand to slip his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room.
“Remind me again what you didn’t like about these tits.” He tests the weight, his thumb circling my peaked nipple.
“They’re small.”
“Hmm.” Crouching for just a moment, he slides two fingers against my sensitive pussy, gathering my cum. “And why do you think that?”
Because I was constantly told so.
But I don’t dare say his name while kneeling in front of the man I’m married to, still riding the post-orgasm high.
“You’re not going to tell me?” he asks as he stands, using my cum to paint my chest. He admires it as if he just created the next artistic masterpiece. “That’s fine. I have no problem proving you wrong. Now push those pretty tits together.”
Once again, I do as he says and when he steps forward, he slips his cock under my breasts, and thrusts upward into the tight channel.
Holy shit.
A bead of precum tempts me to lick it, each and every time his tip slips through my hold.
“Fuck, this is going to be quick.”
I’ve never seen anything like him. So unhinged, so wildly desperate as he watches the way he slides between me.
“Do you want me to turn you around?” he asks through hard-earned breaths. “You’re missing the show.”
With my back to the pier, I look up and say, “This is the only show I want to watch right now.”
“God,” he exhales, palm sliding over my head. “The best girl.” “Your only girl,” I correct him.
“Damn straight you are.”
Shoulders back and putting myself on full display, I let him fuck me.
It’s hot. It’s so fucking hot to the point where I don’t see how it’s possible for me to ever be insecure about my tits again. Anytime I question myself, I’ll remember the way his cock throbbed against them, the way he gritted his teeth just before he came. The way he moaned my name as hot white ropes decorated my neck and chin.
His jerky thrusts still, his cock twitching as he comes. And the sound he makes, God I’ll never forget that deep, guttural groan.
Arms crossed over the glass, Isaiah drops his head on his forearms, chest heaving as he towers over me.
“Fuck, that was hot,” he breathes against the window, eyes peering down at me.
Holding eye contact, I gather his cum from my neck and bring it down to circle my nipple, rubbing myself as he watches with hungry brown eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Kenny. I swear if I wasn’t already, I’d fucking marry you.” I tuck my lip between my teeth in a smile. “That makes two of us.”
