His Nasty Little Pussy

SAVANNA

I’m barely paying attention to what my dad is saying. I’m helping my mom set the table while he’s yacking away to somebody on his

phone. That is until I hear him say, “Holy shit, Justin! Are you okay?”

My heart races, nearly making me drop the plate in my hand. Justin is my dad’s best friend and also the man I’ve been in love with since forever. I’ve had to keep it a big secret, though. Just my own dirty, naughty secret that I’ve never told anyone, but I turned 18 a few months ago, and I’m tired of keeping it all inside.

As soon as my dad hangs up, I ask, “Is Justin okay?”

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh, setting his phone down and taking a seat at the table. “He broke his ankle, though.” “What? How?” I ask in a rush.

My dad gives a sharp laugh. “Riding that damn snowboard of his. I’ve told him a million times to lay off that damn thing.”

“He’s really good though, Dad,” I say because he is. Justin does all those crazy sports. He’s a massive adrenaline junkie, always jumping out of airplanes or bungee jumping. He’s fearless about all those things.

“Poor Justin,” my mom says, bringing in the casserole she’d just made.

“Maybe I can bring him over some supper later?” I offer sweetly. “I mean, I doubt he’s going to be able to cook for a while.”

My mom beams at me. “That’s such a sweet idea, Savanna. I’m sure he’d love that.”

I smile back, already coming up with a plan that will ensure I get to see a lot more of Justin in the very near future. After what seems like a painfully long supper, I run up to my room to change while my mom packs up the leftovers for me to bring. I quickly shuck off my bra and throw on a revealing tank before hiding it all away behind my hoodie. A pair of shorty shorts completes the look, and I run down the stairs to throw on some sandals and grab the food.

“Thanks, Mom.” I give her a hug and shout a goodbye to my dad before running out the door to my car.From NôvelDrama.Org.

Justin’s house is only about a 15-minute drive, so it’s not long at all before I’m there. I toss my jacket in the back, smiling at how hard my nipples already are. There’s no missing these gals, I think with a laugh. Tossing my blond hair behind me, I grab the food and head for the front door.

Before knocking, I send him a quick text.

Hey, Justin! 😉

I’m out front with some food. Is it okay if I use the spare key so you don’t have to get up?

It doesn’t take long at all for his answering text to come through.

Hey!

Yeah, sure. Come on in.

I find the spare key he always keeps under the flowerpot and let myself in. Stopping to kick my sandals off, I peek into the living room and smile at what I see. Justin is sitting on his couch looking fucking adorable and sexy all at the same time with his foot in a cast resting on the ottoman. He’s in a pair of loose gym shorts and a tight black tee that hugs his athletic muscular body in the best way possible.

“Hey, Savanna,” he says with a big grin, waving me over. I can’t help but smile when I see the way his eyes drop to my tits before quickly going back up to my face.

His light brown hair is always a little shaggy, giving him a sort of surfer dude look, and his eyes are a vivid green. There’s always such an intensity to them, though, that counters the carefree look of his hair.

“Hey, Justin,” I say, sitting next to him on the couch. I hand him the Tupperware of leftovers and a fork. “It’s still warm.”

“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver,” he says with a laugh. “It’s not worth the hassle trying to get up and search for food with this damn cast on. I probably would’ve starved to death if you hadn’t come.”

I snuggle in close to him. I’ve always crossed the line with him as far as physical boundaries go. I just can’t help it. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in love with Justin. I’ve never even had a boyfriend or been kissed. It’s pathetic, I know, but in my mind, I’ve always been his and to be with someone else just felt wrong.

I run my fingers over his newest tattoo. It’s a beautiful tattoo on his forearm of a Quetzal with long vibrant tail feathers. Every trip he goes on that he really enjoys, he gets a tattoo to commemorate it. This latest one was from his trip to Costa Rica where he went bungee jumping. My favorite is the one from our trip. He took me with him to a ski lodge last year and taught me how to snowboard. There had been this beautiful barn owl that seemed to follow us around. He’d perch on the branch of a tree and watch as I mostly fell on my ass. When we’d gotten back, Justin had gotten a tattoo of a barn owl on his left bicep, and he’d had them weave in the letter S on its wing.

Leaning in closer, I slide the sleeve of his t-shirt up so I can see it, making him laugh around his forkful of casserole. Every time I see it, it makes my heart skip a beat. The muscled bicep certainly doesn’t hurt. I trace my finger along the S and feel his body still next to mine.

I’ve noticed that since I turned 18, Justin has been trying to put a little distance between us. When I was younger, he blew off my touchy-feely nature as just being young and innocent, but it’s as if he realizes there’s more to it now, and he’s trying to gently pull away. I know he’s only doing it because he thinks he’s too old for me or that I’m off limits since he’s my dad’s best friend.

I let my hand drop and rest my head against his shoulder. “So does it hurt a lot?”

“Like a motherfucker,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Guess you won’t be snowboarding for a while.”

“Yeah, it looks that way. I’m gonna go nuts been cooped up in the house.”

“You know,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I’m out of school now, and I don’t really have anything going on. I could stay here and keep you company.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he says. “Why would a young girl like you want to stay and hang out with an old guy like me? I’m sure you have tons of things you could be doing that are a lot more fun than staying here with me. You could be spending time with your boyfriend or friends or whatever 18-year-olds do.”

“I love spending time with you, and you know damn good and well that I don’t have a boyfriend. Come on,” I say, poking him in the ribs, “it’ll be fun!”

When he hesitates, I add, “I can cook your meals and make sure you don’t starve to death, do all the things you can’t do with your broken ankle, and we can hang out and watch movies and stuff. Plus, you have a guest bedroom that’s just sitting there empty. It’s perfect!”

He laughs at my enthusiasm. “All right, all right,” he finally relents. “If it’ll make you happy. I’m not going to say no to good food and company.”

“Yay!” I squeal and then hop up off the couch. “I’ll go run and pack some stuff. I’ll be right back!”

I give another happy jump because I want to see his eyes dart back to my tits, which they do, and then I run out to my car before he can change his mind. If all goes according to plan, I won’t ever be leaving Justin again.