1. Fool's Paradise


    Date: 10/9/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Erotica, Reluctance, Romance, Young, Author: Unknow user, Rating: 87.5, Source: sexstories.com

    loved her. Her father loved her the most. He would talk about her like she was his prized possession. Eva did this, Eva did that; apparently Eva was the fucking bee’s knees. It was even more sickening because it was so true. The point was that George adored his daughter. He and Max had a friendship that hadn’t tasted betrayal for the best part of thirty years. But that was all over now, at least in Max’s mind. George didn’t know what had happened. George didn’t have a fucking clue. And it was Max’s fault; he couldn’t blame anybody else. He was the one who’d gone to that godforsaken party at the Shaw’s, pretending like he was there to socialise, but really wanting to cop a glance at Eva. It was him who’d cornered her at the bottom of the garden, him who’d kissed her like she wasn’t his best friend’s daughter, it was him who’d shoved his tongue down her throat and his cock in her… Fuck! Max screwed his eyes shut, wanting to feel bad, but unable to willingly forget the memory of her tight, wilful grip. The urgency. Her shallow breathing. And then, the awkward fumbling. ‘Don’t tell dad. He’d kill me. Please don’t tell him.’ Max had caught her hand. ‘Of course I won’t. He’d kill me too, right?’ An attempt at a joke. Guilty apologies, as if they both hadn’t enjoyed it, watching her rush away into the house. He’d felt ashamed but not ashamed enough. Not ashamed enough to not want to go back there. One time wasn’t so bad. It could be written off as an accident, a poor judgement ...
    call, a drunken fucking mistake, but to do it again! To wait until George had gone off to bloody Hong Kong on a business trip, to swing by the coffee shop where he knew Eva met up with friends, to act like he was there to apologise before sneaking a quickie in the Men’s room was unforgiveable. It was bad. It was really bad. It was like he was a teenager. He felt that way when he’d dropped by the Shaw’s a couple of days later, like the unsociable kid at school, asking the bashful, pretty girl to prom. He was meant to be past all that. He was getting on to forty years old. He’d been through it all. Girlfriends, mistakes, he’d even been married, which was definitely the biggest mistake. He was at that age where he was meant to have kids, who he’d drive down to the beach and go camping with, who he’d teach to climb trees and play football in a big suburban garden. Max didn’t have any of that. All the guys he’d been to school with were at that stage, talking about how proud they were of their children, what was happening with the PTA and the school syllabus. He was the odd one out. He didn’t want to end up as one of those old, lonely guys with nothing to live for. The alarm clock began to beep, loudly and insistently and he automatically reached over to switch it off. It was a Sunday. He wondered again if Eva would show up. She wouldn’t. He set himself up for a fall, like he did every time he checked how his shares had performed. Don’t get excited, don’t get excited. But being ready ...
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