Just Like Candy. Kimberly Kaye Terry
She felt the cream ease from her pussy and saturate the lining of her panties.
Candy moaned when he rained biting kisses down the side of her neck.
His hand remained on her ass, while the other cupped the nape of her neck, slanting her head, angling her for better access to her lips.
With a harsh-sounding grunt, he shoved her against the wall, crushing her between the hard plaster and his unyielding frame.
Releasing her neck, he pulled her hips against his groin and ground his cock against her.
“Damn, you taste good!” He released his suction hold on her mouth long enough to grunt out the words.
“Don’t stop,” Candy begged, her breath coming out in gasps. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down toward her aching mouth.
With a gruff laugh he obeyed and captured her mouth, again. He ate, nibbled, suckled and devoured her lips while bumping his thick cock against her mound. She frantically clutched at his wide shoulders, crying and whimpering against his lips, grinding herself against the thick ridge behind his jeans.
He shoved her top up. Cupping her warm breasts in his palms, he thumbed and toyed with her stiffened nipples in perfect orchestration, until she broke.
His mouth swallowed her mewling cry of release, the orgasm sudden and fierce in its intensity.
When she came back to awareness, it was to feel his cool, peppermint breath against her forehead, before he moved away and rested his forehead against hers.
For long moments they stayed in that position, until her heartbeat gradually calmed.
Candy brought her arms down from their position around his neck, and allowed them to rest between them.
Her arms and legs felt like wet noodles, they trembled so. She’d have fallen straight on her butt if he hadn’t held on to her.
Davis pulled away from her, his breathing harsh and loud as he looked down into her face.
“God! I’m so sorry,” his voice broke. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Please, don’t—” Candy was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
They barely had time to spring apart when the door was flung open, and Pauline Rogers, a.k.a. Sister Pauline, waltzed into the office like she owned it.
They had only a few seconds to adjust their clothing between the time she knocked and when she walked in.
“Time for your session with the girls, Miz Candy!”
Candy turned frantic eyes toward the clock on the wall. Time had flown by. She had less than five minutes for her session with her girls.
Candy felt the heat flush her skin when the older woman turned her scrutinizing eyes toward the two of them.
It would have to be Sister Pauline to walk in and catch them going at each other like two dogs in heat, Candy thought with an inward groan.
As soon as Pauline had burst in, Davis had shoved her behind him, shielding her from the older woman’s eyes, while tugging his T-shirt down, lower, over his jeans.
Before she stepped around Davis, Candy peeked around his big body and saw the telling wet spot smack in the middle of his zipper.
She straightened her back, and looked at Pauline, plastering what she hoped was a nonchalant I haven’t been dry-humping a parent in my office, and having the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time look on her face.
“Uh, well, yes, Sister Pauline. I, uh, I’ll be out there as soon as I can.”
Her hopes were dashed when she noticed the sly look on Pauline’s face.
Candy glanced up at Davis and saw a matching flush steal across his lean cheeks.
Pauline peered over the top of the bifocals set low on her wide nose at them, adjusting the curly gray wig on her head as though it was a hat.
Candy bit the insides of her cheek to force herself not to squirm under the older woman’s penetrating stare.
“Umm-hmm,” Pauline hummed when no one said anything.
“Would you mind getting the session started for me? I need to conclude my, uh, meeting with Mr. Strong,” Candy asked as she tried, unobtrusively, to pull her top back down and tuck it into the waistband of her jeans.
Maybe asking her to start the session would throw Sister Pauline off the scent and the woman wouldn’t say anything guaranteed to embarrass her and Davis.
When the other woman’s ample bosom puffed out in pride at the request, Candy released a sigh of relief. She’d sidetracked her for the moment.
“Don’t worry about it. Sister Pauline got this, baby! Now you finish up in here and get down to session as soon as you can, you hear?” She immediately focused her stare on Davis. “Aren’t you that Angelica’s daddy?”
“Yes ma’am. Angelica is my daughter,” he said in a respectful tone, no doubt taking his cue from the way Candy spoke to the woman.
“Hmm. She a little hellion, that one. You might want to have Miss Thang hang around Miz Candy. Miz Candy is a good woman. She can teach your little bad as—behind,”—she caught herself when Candy coughed—“chile some manners.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m in total agreement.”
Pauline narrowed her eyes even more when he docilely agreed. Candy gave him major kudos for not squirming under the old woman’s piercing stare.
With a satisfied look she nodded her head.
“I’ll get the girls rounded up ready for you, Miz Candy. But don’t be too long finishing up here.”
Pauline popped her tongue against the roof of her mouth and gave Candy the look. Whenever Pauline did that, Candy felt like one of the young girls she mentored, all of ten years old.
“You might want to lock the door if you plan on having any more in-depth meetings. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Candy and Davis replied in unison.
Pauline withdrew the whistle she kept buried deeply in her bosom, and left the room, firmly closing the door behind her.
Seconds later they heard the shrill whistle and Sister Pauline’s booming voice. “Time for session! Don’t make me have to find y’all! You don’t want me to come and hunt your little narrow behinds down, trust Sister Pauline on that! If you’re in this session, saddle up, it’s time to roll!” Her heavy footsteps faded away as she stomped down the hallway.
“Who was that?” Davis’ voice was hushed as though he was afraid Pauline would overhear him and return.
“Um…that’s Mrs. Rogers, she’s my assistant.”
“Your assistant?” His deep voice held a discernible squeak. “Didn’t you call her Sister Pauline? Is she a nun?” he asked, horror in his voice, forcing a laugh from Candy despite the tension in the air.
“No. We all grew up calling her that. She’s one of the mattrons at the local church. It’s a sign of respect to call her Sister,” she explained. “Sometimes she’s a little gruff, has a tendency to quote biblical passages in one breath and well, say a mild curse word—or two—in the next. But she has a heart of gold.” Candy straightened her clothes and moved toward her desk, gathering what she needed for the session.
There was a strained moment before Davis spoke again.
“Look, I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t plan for that to happen,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry—”
“Please, don’t.” Candy held up a hand, forestalling him from continuing.
She didn’t know