“Gonna be good?” he repeated.

I shook my head.

He spanked me.

Fuck…yes.

“My brown-eyed girl likes to be bad,” he murmured, his heated eyes now on my mouth.

I licked my lips.

His hand landed on my ass.

“Merry,” I breathed.

His fingers at my neck grew light and he ground out, “Fuck me, baby.”

I fucked him. Fuck yes, I fucked him hard and fast, coming on the third stroke, the orgasm so huge, I started bucking, winding my arms around his shoulders, clenching my fist in his hair, ramming down on his big, thick cock.

“Merry.” It was a near cry as the orgasm engulfed me.

My head shot back, my back arching, and my body kept moving, partially me, partially Merry’s arm again around my waist, slamming me down.

I heard his noises as I rode out my orgasm, driving deep until finally his arm around me tightened, keeping me down, full of him, and he buried his face in my tank at my breasts and groaned as his body shuddered under me.

I dropped my head so my lips were at his hair and allowed my climax to leave slow, sliding out of me while I sat on Merry’s big dick and held him to me.

I only moved my head when he moved his, trailing his lips up my chest, my neck, my jaw. Both his hands moved as his head did, coming up to rest on either side of my head.

He tipped me down and I thought he’d take my mouth, but he didn’t.

He stared into my eyes, not moving.

I read what was in his gaze.

He liked that. He liked me being his good girl. He liked me being bad. He liked that we had that. He liked that I got off on it. He liked that I gave it freely. He liked that he could take it from me. He liked we were right there, my ass red, his cock buried inside me, as close as we could get in so many ways, him and me.

On this thought and the fact I liked it too, totally, both his thumbs slid out and he traced my cheekbones.

“Leavin’ you,” he whispered, and I felt every inch of me lock. But Merry didn’t waste any time sharing he wasn’t taking himself away. “You got less than an hour, honey. Shower. Get dressed. I got your pussy all over my jeans. Gonna go home, hit the shower. Change. Be back and I’m takin’ you to Frank’s for lunch.”

I was still full of waffles.

I would eat three of Frank’s fried tenderloin sandwiches to get what Merry was giving me.

He was not fucking around. Date. Meet the kid. Show nearly the entirety of the ’burg he was with me by strolling into a Brownsburg Bulldogs home game, holding my hand.

Now taking me to Frank’s so the rest of that entirety of the ’burg would see it or talk about it, and the fullness of that would go beyond since they’d eventually (but soon) hear about it.