GAY Sugar Daddy

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78

"I know because," he takes the last pizza slice before answering how he knew I dismissed Nancy three hours earlier than usual today, "I receive a notification every time she logs in or logs out. The agency has this app, to record her hours."

"App? What app?" I turn my body to face him, fully invested with this certain app he just mentioned, "What else does this app do? And why don't I get an access to the app like you?"

"Because I'm the one who employ her...?" He gives this duh look with this duh tone to which I roll my eyes to.

"Foine, Mr Big Money."

"We both know that's not the only big thing I have but yeah, she has to update her activities with Pao every hour."

"Yours are not big. If anything, it's average." I can't help myself from commenting it.

He chuckles as he closes the pizza box then grabs his empty beer bottle, "Alright I'm gonna put these away then we'll get naked?"

"What?" I must have heard him wrong.

"Why are you so shocked?" He asks in a way that he's genuinely curious, "We've been teasing for weeks. So let's cut it short and give us both what we want."

Wow. Wow wow wow wow. Hold on. Hold that thought. What?

"I'm gonna fuck you after this," he says it while he towers over me, already standing up to perhaps go to the kitchen to throw those things in the trash can.

"I have to," he suddenly looks at me again, with intense look, "You know I have to, right?"

What the fuck?

"No." I say it defensively. Is he mad? Like seriously? Fucking? No. No way, dude. You hid my daughter from me for four years, remember? So no. No way.

"Why not?" He puts the empty pizza box and beer bottle back to the coffee table, and sits next to me, "Why not, Estelle?"

"Why should I. It’s not like I’m your sugar baby." I reply nonchalantly, trying to make this casual. A banter. Whatever along that line.

We have a system that works perfectly for both of us at the moment, concerning Pao. So I think I shouldn't hit him with what's really in my mind, but to play around that area. The last thing I want for us is to go back to that awkward phase. I mean, we had a nice chat for like thirty minutes before the whole thing escalates to this.

"Give me a number."

Satan must be proud to have trained this man as a douche. Because he's currently excelling it. Throwing money to his baby mama? Really, asshat?

"Never knew a heavily pregnant woman is your taste nowadays for a sugar baby."

"You'll always be my taste no matter how pregnant you are."

I close my eyes to digest that. Half digesting while another half trying to pretend I didn't hear it. Yes, I want to fuck him, so bad. But I also can't forgive him for what he did. My lust is battling with my conscience, and I think the latter one is winning.

"You want me."

I open my eyes to find him looking determined, "You want me as much as I want you. What happens to honesty before romance? Before anything?"

"You. You happened. You destroyed the trust I had for you. You destroyed the honesty. You did it all so don't you dare question me as if I'm the one who caused all of this."

He sighs, with regret clearly shown on his face.

"I can never forgive what you did. Believe me when I say I'm trying hard, so fucking hard to forget about it, forget about you, but we're sharing a daughter so I have to accept you in my life. But no, it will always be a no, Owen. I can't forgive you."

He pulls me to his chest seeing me sobbing like a child while still being angry, stroking my hair, whispering how sorry he is. But it doesn't matter anymore, he's done it. And there's nothing he can do to make me forget it, or forgive him.

He keeps his arms wrapped around me but our eyes meet, nose touching, and when his lips move I can feel it against mine, "I'm sorry, Precious."

"I know if you never do what you did, we won't have her. And that I should be grateful we have her in our life, because she's really the best thing I've ever had. But I can't forgive you. It's not that I don't want to, but I can't. You hide her from me for four years. You didn't tell me even if she's right in front of me for so long. You really are the worst person I've ever met. And I want you so bad." I want you so so bad.

Tears are threatening to come out of his eye sockets, and I can see the pain in them. It hurts me, stabbing me right through my heart, but all we have is honesty. If there's any left.

"It's late," I put a hand on his chest, to push him so there'll be distance between us. But the hand does nothing, just attached to the same place as my heart wants him but my conscience is telling no.

"Okay," he whispers but remains the same, clearly having a hard time to letting go.

I kiss him for what felt like a second, to which he responds, and instead of pushing him I'm clutching his shirt, pulling him closer while we deepen the kiss. It's a mutual effort from him when his arms tighten their hold, and we're officially two people who're doing something that's against the code.

He's supposed to be gay as he's been since the past five years, and I'm supposed to stay away from him, as far as I can because he's bad for me.

"You want me, and I want you too. We can just do this, you don't have to forgive me." If we're in our right mind, it's clearly a bad suggestion. But right now, it sounds perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"I've been wanting to kiss you since I saw you at her school," he confesses as my mind is still fuzzy from the kiss.

"I had to walk so fast to avoid doing this," he forces another kiss, a short one before resting his lips on mine, smiling.

"I never thought I get to do this again." The smile is contagious because I'm smiling too. I also never thought I'd get to do this again with you.

"This would look great on the floor," his hand reaches the hem of my shirt, "it matches with the carpet."

I laugh despite my wet face, and he takes that opportunity to help me with my top.

"See," I follow the direction of his eyes, to the location of my shirt once he throws it on the carpeted floor, "Perfect match." What's so perfect with a baby pink shirt blending with the dark blue carpet?

But of course, everything's perfect right now. Just perfect.

"I miss my favorite fruit," his voice is muffled when he dives into my cleavage, inhaling my scent while smooching them at the same time.

He expertly unhooks my bra to release the girls, to which I'm quite surprised since he still got the skill despite changing his interest to the crowd that doesn't wear a bra.

"You're killing me," he groans once he removes my shorts, taking a full view of me in just a pair of lacy panties.

"I swear if it's up to me, I'd take you at every corner of this place," I'm almost tearing, because I never thought I'd be appreciated this way since I'm obviously a whale now, "I've been imagining having you everywhere, every time I'm here."

A tear escapes, and I wipe it that instant, "I'm sorry, I'm hormonal. Oh God I'm ruining this. I'm sorry."

He smiles but hovers over me, kissing me in a passionate way that takes my mind off it, stopping me from being further overwhelmed.






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