My boyfriend's dad. ✅ [Wattys 2023!]

14: The consecuences.

I looked at the ceiling of the office with normalized breathing, somewhat calmer, as I passed one leg over the other to close them and looked to the left, where Ian was just like me; sitting on the edge of the desk and lying back.

He looked back at me and caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, slowly, softly, with a certain affection that made me close my eyes to enjoy the tranquility that that sweet caress was giving me.

It was a huge contrast after what we had done a few minutes ago.

My heart began to beat wildly, my stomach started to feel such a pleasant tickle that it was impossible not to smile openly at the same time that I felt a pressure in my chest, which made me sigh, and I felt my cheeks blush.

I opened my eyes slowly. Ian had the same smile I had, he was looking at me with tender eyes and his hand was still on my cheek, caressing it with his thumb, until I realized that he was actually wiping a tear that had escaped my eye.

I didn't want to spoil the moment. I didn't want to think about what I was feeling, what was happening, what had just happened. It was wrong. Incorrect. Sinful. Dishonest. Illicit.

Forbidden.

I drew strength from where I didn't have it, got up from the desk and sat on the edge of it, resting my hands at my sides so I could lean forward a little while thinking about everything and nothing at once.

About everything that was happening and about nothing that should've happened.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ian mimic my position, but he did get up all the way and didn't stay seated. Under my lost, empty-minded gaze, he put on his boxer briefs, dress pants, socks, and shoes.

I liked that image of him getting dressed because I thought it was most sweet and adorable to see a slight blush on his cheeks because I was staring at him. Seeing that blush made my stomach tingle again and I sighed deeply.

I lowered my head and shook it. It couldn't be like that. This was not what we had agreed on or what had to happen because we said we would tell Blake first, but we were so shameless to still have sex with him on the other end of the phone.

I didn't know what I had told him or what he had told me. I don't know if the conversation was short or long. I didn't know the tone of voice we had used, I didn't know if he was angry, if he was worried, if he was going to tell me some good news or bad news, if he thought I was doing something else or if he knew exactly what was happening.

Nothing.

I remembered nothing.

I couldn't remember anything. It felt as if I had been so drunk from being on the verge of an alcoholic coma. I felt the same way, disoriented and somewhat confused trying to think of the conversation I just had with Blake.

My mind had been in a phase of relaxation and arousal so contradictory and so pleasant that I could not remember anything other than the orgasms I had, how I had got them and who had produced them.

Ian walked over to me and lifted my head with his fingers. On the other hand he had my clothes and I tried to grab them, but he reached back without letting me. He nodded at me and I got up with some hesitation.

He let me put my underwear on by myself, although he was the one who fastened the bra on my back and who finished pulling the bottom up my thighs while he stroked my legs.

He also left tender kisses on my abdomen, unlike the other he had previously left, which made me laugh softly at the tickle they produced and he joined my laugh.

He helped me zip up my skirt and put my shirt on, he even zipped the jacket up to my chest a bit when I put it on.

I was not left behind and also helped him by buttoning his shirt, tying his tie or smoothing his jacket when he put it on and finished fixing its collar.