The Dancer

29. The Harm

Sara stepped inside her home and instantly she could smell the vanilla candle that seemed to always be lit. She didn't bother to knock for fear of her parents hearing and rushing to greet them.

With Malcolm close behind, they quietly made their way inside the home. Reaching behind her, she took Malcolm's hand to guide him through the dark home through the entry way and down a long hallway.

They kept quiet until finally reaching the last door, the guest room. Opening the door and flipping the light on, she found that the room was still the same. A large bed, a TV mounted on the wall across from it. Two bedside tables, a chair, a dresser, and a simple lamp.

Malcolm followed her inside and closed the door behind him. He watched her as she opened the ajoining guest bathroom to show him. His eyes only watched her. His eyes following her movements and demeanor.

Sara gave him a smile and waved, silenting sayibg goodbye before reaching for the door.

He was quick, pushing the door closed, coming up from behind her. He was caging her in, leaning down to her ear slowly.

"How far is your room?" He asks. She can't contain her smile.

"Two door down, same side of the hallway," she whispers back.

He sighs, leaning further down to nestle his head between her neck and shoulder.

"Do you think you can be quiet?" He asks reaching to the door knock. He secures the lock and the souns of it flipping causes her to shiver. She nods.

"Turn around," he orders.

She slowly turns to him and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He grasps the back of her thighs lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist.

"Such a good girl," he whispers.

He moves them onto the bed, sitting down at first.

Sara reached down to her shirt, lifiting it over her head and tossing it onto the floor. Malcolm imediately lowers his head to bite the exposed flesh of her breast while Sara reaches down to unclasp her jeans.

Hurrying off of the bed, Sara pulls down her jeans and then her underwear. As she reached for the clasp of her bra, Malcolm unbuckles his jeans and pushes them off along with his boxers. His shirt is the next thing to go.

"Come here, baby." He whispers and gestures for her to sit on his lap.

She smiles and does as shes told. She straddles his lap and heat imediately envelopes them. Sara reaches between them to take his shaft in her hand.

He was hard and ready, he could come at any moment it seemed. She guided him inside her, taking him until it pained her. She let out a small whimper, then looked up at Malcolm. His eyes shut painfully then opened as his jaw tensed and his lips became a thin line. He let out a long breath as he basked in the way she took him.

"Fuck," he whispers.

Sara wraps hers arms around his neck and begins to move her hips. His cock was milked and constricted. He grunted as lowly as possible. Soon Sara's hands moved to grasp his shoulders, her nails digging in. Her hips went faster and faster but she sadly couldn't go at the speed she wanted.

"Daddy," she gasped in his ear. "I want to cum," she nearly whined with a pout.

He could only let out a low moan. His mouth went down at that point, enveloping his lips around a hard nipple. He sucked and nipped, causing her to squirm. Rocking her hips harder downward, Malcolm's hand latched onto her rear and squeezed what he could.