First Name Bases

Author's Note: All characters depicted are adults.

...

"Yolanda, this is the ol' man."

My sophomore year at Wells University, I dated this guy, Simon, for about a month before he introduced me to his father.

"Sly."

His back was to us when we stepped into the little office. "Sly, eh? I taught you a lot of things, but being a smart-ass comes from your mum."

Mr. Edison turned from his solo chess game. He was a middle-aged, short gray hair guy. He had nice green eyes and fair skin. He wore glasses and had a bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks. His outfit consisted of a beige shirt, a gray tie underneath a light brown jersey. A brown jacket was thrown over the back of his chair with a red scarf.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Edison." I held out my right hand. "Why do they call you 'Sly'?"

His eyebrow raised and his lip quirked a bit. Mr. Edison had the best accent even though he hardly talked. He rarely smiled - so I was told before meeting him. But he put on a smile for me. Or maybe it was just to bother his son. Simon seemed to do everything for his father's approval.

"I'm good with my hands." He took my hand in his, his large fingers engulfing mine. "Call me, Francis."

"Go easy on my friend, ol' man." Simon pulled my hand back.

"That's your problem, my boy." Mr. Edison met my eyes and winked. "You get distracted by a pretty face. I never do."

I felt my cheeks getting warm. It takes a lot for my brown skin to go red. But I swore I was as red as a beet from that one wink.

Simon took my hand. "We'll be up in my room. Studying."

Mr. Edison's brows knitted together. "Fine, but keep the door open."

"Dad, I'm twenty."

"And you still live under my roof. Doors stay open." The older Edison looked at me. "But Yolanda's a good girl. She'd never fall for your tricks."

I actually laughed. If he only knew about the bad boy I dated senior year of high school.

"It was nice meeting you, Yolanda." Mr. Edison gave a subtle salute, and I noticed a new ring on his pinky finger. The exact same ring I own. The exact ring that was on my finger a second ago.

"How did-"

"I'll get it back for you later," Simon whispered, leading me to his room upstairs.

Hours passed with our heads in the books. Well, my head was. Simon read one line of his psychology textbook and then had his hand on my thigh. I continued reading, a true good girl, even as he kissed my neck. I pushed him away and we studied a bit more. Until he was at it again.

"Simon, this isn't what you invited me over for. Is it?"

"No... Yeah, a little." He blushed. "I'm not trying to pressure you. I just thought-"

"You thought I'd rather make out with you than study?" I shook my head. "I wish I was that kind of girl." I used to be...for a few months back in high school.

It literally went on for hours. By 10pm, I was booking a ride share service to take me back to the dorms. They were thirty minutes away. It was going to be a long wait.

Simon ran his hand through my hair. "Do you want to stay the night?"

"What about your dad?"

"He's probably not even here. He comes and goes."

"He just leaves without saying goodbye?" I frowned.

Simon shrugged. "It's no big deal. He'll be back. Probably."

I was frowning a bit longer than I thought. Simon leaned in to kiss me. I accepted before lifting my textbook.

"Come on. We have that exam in a few weeks."

Simon sighed, scratching his head. But he didn't say a word.

"I'm not going to apologise for caring about my grades."

"Is that all?" Simon pulled out his cellphone.

He tapped away fast on the screen. When he showed me the screen, it was the grade book for one of our professors. A straight line of perfect scores was next to my name.

"If your grades ever slip, just let me know." Simon smiled.

I was speechless. Did I just attract criminals? My phone buzzed, alerting me my ride was a few minutes away. I couldn't even speak. I gathered my stuff, nodding vigorously at whatever he was saying.

"Is there a bathroom?" I was finally able to speak.

"Yeah, there's one down the hall. Or you can use the one downstairs."

"I'll go downstairs. My ride is about to pull up, so I'll wait outside when I'm done."

"You called a car? I would have taken you back."

"No, no. I'm fine." I nearly stumbled out of his room. "Fresh air is good. I'll call you when I get to my dorm. Stay here...Hack something else."

The hall was dark, but I could see a light coming from down the stairs. There was a bathroom right next to Simon's room, but i opted for the one downstairs. As soon as I opened the door, I noticed a light. The bathroom had two doors. The one that I came through from the hallway, and another door leading to - I had no idea.

I heard Mr. Edison's voice before I pushed at the door. "Fuck, that's good!"

Curiosity got the best of me, and I pressed my ear to the wooden door.

"So fucking good." His voice was low, breathing heavy as he growled like an animal.

His words made my knees weak and my palms sweaty. My weight slowly pushed the door open. I could see a desk, old posters on the wall, and the mini table folding the unfinished chess game. The bathroom was connected to his private office. Mr. Edison slowly came into my view. He was reclining in the same chair I met him in.

Mr. Edison was facing away from me. I couldn't see his face, but I could see his hand moving between his legs. Francis' pants were still on, but his penis was out. It was hard, sticking straight up in his lap. He squeezed the head off of his cock hard in his fist. I bit my bottom lip as I watched him. Mr. Edison slowly moved his hand up and down the shaft, pulling the skin down tight toward the base. Francis' hand began pumping fast, his hips buckling a little.

My hand touched the crotch of my pants. I didn't even notice. My body was running itself. My thighs squeezed together, applying pressure to my count. I kept one hand on the doorknob. My eyes stayed on Mr. Edison, who was pumping very fast now. The movement of his hand was like a flash of lightning, up and down in the dim light of his office. His low grunts made me shiver.

I couldn't take it anymore. I undid the buttons of my jeans and pulled my zipper down. I slid my hand into my pants, down into my underwear. As soon as I found my clit, I rubbed at it frantically. Before I knew it, I let go of the door to pull my t-shirt up over my breasts. My now free hand tugged my bra to squeeze my nipples.

I had no idea what started Mr. Edison. I didn't see a television or laptop, so he wasn't watching porn. There weren't any magazines or nude women plastered on his wall. So what got this older guy going?

The door was inching open, but I was too turned on to pull a hand from my body. My fingers were slick with my juices, and I wanted to shove two of them inside me. I was bold enough to risk the open door exposing me, but not bold enough to risk him hearing the wet noise. I kept two fingers on my clit, rubbing in wide circles.

Mr. Edison began breathing harder, the sound of it filling the room. I was softly panting in the bathroom doorway. I rubbed myself even faster, my forehead against the door frame. I pinched my nipples hard and gave each a little twist.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he grunted, his hand a rapid fire blurring up and down his penis.

His hips bucked up out of the chair. The recliner scratched over the floor. He was pumping his cock hard into his fist, growling and bucking his hips up wildly. I felt the intense tingle in my core growing stronger. The movement of my hand made me dizzy. My knees buckled and I leaned against the frame of the door.

Francis' head fell back and cum erupted from his cock. It covered his hand, trickling down his fist. I bit my lip so hard it swelled. My clit was throbbing, aching for relief, and I came after one last stroke. I stared, shaking, as he lifted his hand off his steadily deflating member. Mr. Edison opened his hand, his cum dripping into his palm. My jaw dropped at the sight of my ring still on his pinky finger, now covered in his cum.

I was panting softly, lightheaded from the orgasm. The daze didn't last long when a loud horn beeps outside. I tugged the door closed, the latch loudly clicking in place, right as my cellphone rang. The driver of my ride share had been waiting outside for a few minutes. I was frantic as I fixed my clothes. I grabbed my phone, but my wet fingers slipped off the screen. It kept ringing as another call and voicemail came through.

I could hear Mr. Edison mumbling swear words behind the door. I reached for the sink to wash my hands. But then the bathroom door opened and Francis came in. I froze and he took a step back. He didn't seem surprised, but raised a brow at me anyway.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I apologized a million times as I gathered my stuff.

"It's my fault. I should have knocked." He said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Here you go. I should give this back to you."

I was halfway out the other door when he held up my ring. It was clean, not dripping with cum anymore. I hesitated, but took it from him anyway. I couldn't even make eye contact with him when my fingers grazed him. Instead of stuffing it into my pocket, I slipped it back on my finger. It was warm and it made me shiver.

The car outside beeped again.

"Goodbye, Mr. Edison." I practically ran down the hall to the front door.

"Bye, Yolanda. And, please, call me Francis."