One Last Taste Before She Leaves

Marcus leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing a glass of whiskey that did nothing to dull the ache in his gut. Twenty-one-year-old Lila had been under his roof for a full year now—his ex-wife’s daughter, fresh out of college, crashing with him while she finished her degree and lined up that dream job on the opposite coast. Tomorrow she’d be gone. Packed bags by the door, plane ticket booked, the whole clean break. He should have been relieved. Instead he was hard as fucking steel just thinking about those endless legs and the way her ass filled out everything she wore.

He’d jerked off to her more times than he could count. Late nights, door locked, fist flying while he pictured bending that tight young body over every surface in the house. She wasn’t blood. Just the leftover from a marriage that had soured years ago. Still felt filthy. Still felt perfect.

The fridge light spilled across the tiles as Lila padded in. Tiny sleep shorts—pale blue, riding high enough to flash the lower curves of her ass cheeks—and a thin white tank that clung to her braless tits. Nipples already peaked from the cool air. Her dark hair was messy, lips shiny like she’d just licked them. She shut the fridge without grabbing anything and turned, trapping him between the island and the sink.

“Marcus.” Her voice was low, no teasing lilt, just raw. “I know you’ve been staring. All year. My ass when I bend for the dishwasher. My tits when I stretch in the mornings. You’ve wanted to fuck me since I moved in.”

He set the glass down hard. “Lila—”

“Don’t.” She stepped closer, close enough that the heat of her body hit him. “I’ve wanted your older cock for months. Every time you walked around shirtless after a run, sweat dripping down that thick chest, I got soaked. I’d go to my room and finger my tight little pussy thinking about you splitting me open. Imagining that big daddy dick stretching me while you called me a dirty girl for craving my mom’s ex.”

His cock jerked against his zipper. He could smell her—warm skin, faint soap, and underneath it the unmistakable scent of pussy already wet. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Exactly. One last night. No more pretending.” She pressed her palm flat to his chest, feeling the thud of his heart. “I’ve jerked off to the idea of you holding me down and using me. Filling me up. Making me drip your cum while I pack my bags. Tell me you’ve thought about it too. Tell me how filthy it’s been in your head.”

Marcus’s control frayed like wet paper. He grabbed her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to keep her there. “Every fucking night. Watching you prance around in those shorts, wondering how tight that young cunt would squeeze me. Picturing you on your knees choking on my cock while I told you what a slut you were for wanting a man twice your age. I’ve come so hard imagining my load painting your pretty face, dripping down onto those perky tits. Wanted to bend you over this counter and wreck you so deep you’d feel me when you sat on that plane tomorrow.”

Lila’s breath hitched. Her free hand dropped, cupping the thick ridge of his cock through his jeans. She stroked him slow, base to tip, feeling him throb. “Fuck, you’re huge. I’ve dreamed about this. Your thick daddy dick stretching my lips. I want you to ruin me tonight. Use my throat first. Then spread my legs and pound this tight twenty-one-year-old pussy until I can’t walk straight. Spank my ass red. Call me your dirty little secret. Make me beg for every inch.”