The Park Dad I Decided to Have That Morning

My name is Daniela and I’m twenty-five years old. I work part-time as a go-go dancer and other times behind the bar of a pub, so I live more at night than by day. It feels ugly to say it about yourself, but I’ve got a great body: dark-haired, light eyes, curves where they should be and nothing extra. Firm tits that don’t need a bra, a perky ass from dancing all night up on a platform, and a cunt that, why lie, asks for action more times a day than would be advisable. I’m saying it without shame because it’s the truth and because, in this story, it mattered.

I go out a lot, and not just for work. When I’m off, I head out just the same, because I love partying and, why lie, I love fucking. I know it doesn’t look good for a woman to say it so bluntly, but a good cock gets me hotter than the hottest man in the world. With one difference: I decide when, how, and with whom I take it. And I usually get my way.

That Sunday morning, around eleven, I should have been sleeping off the previous night. I’d gone out the night before with Carla, my battle buddy, the only one who can keep up with me until closing time. We got home when the smell of churros and hot chocolate was already in the air, both of us wrecked. But I had a plan, and the plan was itching inside me like a restless tingle that wouldn’t shut up, and that was getting wetter between my thighs by the minute.

So I called her. Carla showed up with a face that screamed bad sleep, a coffee in her hands, and zero idea what her friend was up to. We sat on a bench in the kids’ park, the one two streets from home, watching parents play with their little ones.

—Hey, Daniela —she said, yawning—, what are we doing here? Don’t tell me you want to get on the swings again, like that drunk night. There are kids and parents now, for fuck’s sake.

—What are you talking about, you nutter —I said—. That’s not it. A father is exactly my target.

I pointed, without hiding a thing, at a broad, dark-haired man playing with his three-year-old son a few steps from the slide. He lifted the boy in his arms, made him fly, and the kid laughed with that pure laugh of people who still don’t know how to lie.

—That one? —Carla’s eyes went wide.

—That one. His name’s Adrián. He lives nearby, across the street. He’s forty-one and used to be in the military, that’s why he’s built like that. He split up not long ago from his wife, a witch I ran into a couple of times at the club. Troublesome, nasty, and on top of that she was cheating on him. He barely goes out: athletic, hard worker, crazy about his kid. Look how he treats him.

I was practically drooling, and I couldn’t have said whether it was because of the tenderness with which he held the child or because the father was that damn good-looking. Probably both at once. Though, honestly, at that moment my head was spinning, imagining those arms pinning me against the wall and that cock that was already visible under his tracksuit splitting me in two.

—You are the worst —Carla huffed—. After ditching me last night with Marcos and his annoying friend, now you want to climb on this model father. And look at you, the nice ones usually aren’t your thing.

—Well, today this one is, and you’re going to help me.

—Help with what? Ask for his number, woman, and when he’s not with the kid you can get him in bed if he wants to.

—He’s going to want to —I said, smiling—. But this isn’t about numbers. I’m going to fuck him. Now. Right now.

—Whaaat? —Carla almost spat out her coffee—. He’s with his son! What do you intend to do?

—That’s why you’re here. You get the kid out of the way for a while, like you’ve gotten rid of so many unwanted creeps for me.

—You filthy bitch, he’s a three-year-old kid! I’m not going to…

—Jesus, you’re twisted —I cut in, dying of laughter—. I’m not talking about anything weird. The kid’s adorable, but I’ve got no patience for little brats. You do. Remember my little brother’s birthday? You had more fun than he did. Take him to the kiosk, buy him balloons, candy, whatever. Keep him busy for ten minutes.

—You really are awful… —but she was already standing up, and beneath it all her face was lighting up—. Truth is, I do love them this small. Do you think I’d be a good mother and…?

—Carla, focus. We’ll talk about that later.

***

My friend went over to the kid clowning around, doing voices, running in circles around him like she was another child at recess. Adrián looked at her with a touch of surprise, but when he saw the kid laughing his head off he relaxed and sat down on a bench about ten meters away. That was my moment.

I sat beside him with no shame at all, so close our thighs almost touched.

—Your son is so handsome —I said, nudging him with my elbow—. Just like his dad.

Adrián turned red. He was one of those men who blush, and that, far from putting me off, made me even hotter and made me squeeze my thighs because I was already feeling my panties getting wet.

—Uh… thanks —he muttered—. And where’s yours?

—I don’t have one. They haven’t made him yet. —I winked at him—. Though, you know, it all starts somewhere. And I’d bet whatever you want you make them very well.

He moved a couple of centimeters away, uncomfortable. But I wasn’t about to let go of my prey.

—Look, Adrián, I know your name. I’m Daniela, Marta’s daughter, the one from the bakery on the corner. Skipping the introductions, I’ll be honest: I think you’re a very attractive man and I want you to fuck me. Straight to the point, because life is short.

—I… I know you, I know your mother —he stammered—. But this isn’t… look, I’m much older than you, and I’m with my son, and I only have eyes for him. I’m sorry.

He was about to get up. I took his hand and, almost without him noticing, brought it to my thigh, sliding it under the hem of my skirt until his fingers brushed the inside of my leg, a mere handspan from my cunt. I felt his hand tremble.

—Adrián, sweetheart, don’t fight it —I whispered—. You’re going to put it in me all the way, and you know it. Touch me, feel how wet I already am just looking at you.

I pushed his fingers a little farther, until through the soaked fabric he could feel how wet he was making me. I felt him react under his pants, a bulge growing right before my eyes that he could no longer hide no matter how he crossed his legs. And that, I swear, made me even hotter. A man who resists a little is far more interesting than one who gives in right away.

—No, please… —he said, voice thick, but without pulling his hand away—. You’re a gorgeous girl, but I can’t. Maybe another time, but right now I’m with my son and…

—Don’t worry about the kid. Look over there. —I pointed to the kiosk, where Carla and the boy were choosing balloons, both laughing—. My friend’s got him occupied for a good while. You and I have plenty of time for you to do everything you want to me.

—But I can’t lose sight of him, I don’t know your friend, I…

I didn’t let him finish. I shut him up with a kiss. And what a kiss. I shoved my tongue down to his uvula, tangled it with mine, bit his lower lip until he let out a rough groan. He had an experienced mouth, a neatly trimmed beard, a firm chin. I would have devoured him right there on the bench, in front of all the mothers in the park. In fact, my free hand had already gone down to confirm what I suspected: beneath his tracksuit there was a thick, hard, long cock, throbbing under the cotton. I squeezed it without holding back, and he let out a gasp he swallowed in my mouth.

He kissed me back, but every so often he pulled away, torn between desire and guilt.

—No, it can’t be… my son…

I put my index finger over his lips, the same finger with which a second earlier I’d traced his head through his clothes.

—Follow me. There are too many nosy bitches here, and that doesn’t suit you. Follow me, handsome, because I’m going to leave you drained.

The poor man obeyed grudgingly, looking one last time toward the kiosk, where his son was cracking up with Carla without missing him in the slightest. He walked awkwardly, hiding the bulge with his hand in his pocket.

***

My place was just around the corner, and my mother wasn’t home. There were no preliminaries. The moment I shut the door, I shoved him against it and ripped off his T-shirt in one pull, baring a hard, defined torso, with a line of dark hair running down from his navel and disappearing beneath the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms. I bit one nipple, licked his neck, dug my nails into his back as I yanked down his pants along with his briefs.

His cock sprang free, hard as a rock, thick, veined, the head shining with the drool already seeping out of it. My mouth watered. I didn’t even wait to reach the bed: I dropped to my knees right there in the hallway and took the whole thing in my mouth. I sucked, licked, and worked it with hunger, with noise, looking up at him with misted eyes. I wrapped the base with one hand and with the other fondled his balls, squeezing just enough. Adrián leaned his head back against the door and let out a guttural moan, grabbing my hair, no longer sure whether to push or hold back.

—Fuck… fuck, Daniela… —he murmured between gasps.

I smiled with his cock in my mouth, took it out slowly, leaving a string of saliva hanging, and licked its whole length from balls to tip. I took it back in again, now to the throat, gagging and all, because I love feeling a man lose his mind when he sees a woman surrendering to him like that. When I felt him close to coming, I stopped dead and stood up.

—No fucking way you’re coming yet, handsome. The party’s just getting started.

I dragged him to the bedroom. I took off my T-shirt and skirt on the way, leaving a trail of clothes behind me. I wasn’t wearing panties anymore either; they’d fallen off on their own. I threw myself backward on the bed, spread my legs wide open, and pointed to my cunt with two fingers.

—Come here. Eat.

And he went down, obediently, as if any doubt had suddenly vanished. That beautifully shaped mouth, with just the right beard, pressed to my cunt and went to work without rushing. He licked my outer lips, sucked my clit with the tip of his tongue, slipped his tongue inside and made it vibrate. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t a clumsy boy; he was a man who took his time, who had learned to read a woman over years in bed. He slipped two fingers inside me, curling them upward, searching for that spot only a few can find, and when he hit it, I arched my back and grabbed his hair with both hands, crushing his face against me.

—There, there, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop…

I came with a scream that must have been heard in the courtyard. A long, filthy orgasm that left my legs shaking and my cunt throbbing for more.

But I didn’t let him rest. I grabbed his arm, pushed him onto his back, and climbed on top. I took his cock, still rock-hard and soaked with my saliva, and lined it up at my entrance. I slid it in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, savoring how it opened me. It was really thick, and I felt that delicious sting only big cocks give when they go all the way in. I stayed still for a second, seated on him, with all of his cock inside me, looking into his eyes.

—See? That’s what you wanted, sweetheart —I told him, and started moving.

I rode him, up and down, bracing myself on his chest. I grabbed his hands and put them on my tits so he’d squeeze them, and he did it with that restrained military strength he still hadn’t fully let go of. He pinched my nipples right between his fingertips. I leaned forward and let him suck on one tit while I kept moving my hips, circling them so his cock scraped me inside from every angle.

Then I lay back and he got on top. He fucked me face-to-face, looking into my eyes, with long, deep thrusts that made his balls slap against my ass. Moans like a heat-struck bitch kept slipping out of me, and by then the mask of the proper man had fallen completely from him: he was fucking me hard, with contained rage, biting my neck, no longer afraid of the marks he was leaving.

—Tell me dirty things —I asked in his ear—. Tell me, asshole.

—Whore… what the fuck do you have, fuck, what a gorgeous cunt…

—That’s it, that’s it, I like that, harder…

He flipped me over and put me on all fours. He grabbed my hips with those big hands of his and speared me in with one sharp thrust. He started pumping at a brutal pace, slamming into my ass with a wet slap of flesh on flesh that filled the room. He yanked my hair, forcing my back to arch. With his other hand he was smacking my ass, leaving it red. I pushed my ass back into his hips, begging for more, feeling every thrust hit all the way deep in my gut.

—Put it in all the way, you motherfucker, balls deep…

—I’m going to fill you up, dirty girl…

He shoved his thumb into my ass, without warning, using my own juice as it dripped down his hand, and made me come again, even harder. I screamed like a madwoman, bit the pillow, felt my cunt clenching in waves around his cock. And he, unable to hold on any longer, gave three final thrusts, pulled his cock out in time, and came in thick spurts over my ass and back, with a rough roar from his chest. Thick, hot semen slid down my crack and reached my thighs.

I collapsed face down, exhausted and smiling. He could last more than anyone my age. I was wiped from the night’s partying, but I swear that at that moment I wished the morning would never end. It was better than the hottest of my late nights.

But it didn’t last. As soon as he caught his breath, Adrián was himself again, and guilt rose to his face like a different kind of blush from before. He wiped himself off with a towel and started gathering up the clothes from the hallway.

—Look, Daniela, that was great, but I’m worried about my son. I’m going back to the park.

—Oh, you’re such a buzzkill —I protested, stretching naked on the bed, my legs still open and my cunt swollen and shining—. We’re doing so well. Come on, I’ll get dressed and we’ll go see your little one. You’ll see he’s perfectly fine.

***

When we got back to the park, sure enough, the kid was still doing his thing: playing with Carla, throwing water balloons at each other, both of them soaked, laughing their heads off. Truth is, I owed my friend big time, though she seemed to be enjoying it as much as the kid.

Adrián ran to hug his son, asking if he’d had fun. The boy barely paid attention to him; he hadn’t even noticed his absence, too busy riding on Carla’s shoulders. And then I noticed something: the magnetism I’d had over Adrián had evaporated. He was already avoiding my gaze, focused only on his son, without another word and with no mention of another date.

I didn’t care. I got what I came for, as the saying goes, and I’d danced the whole dance. I could still feel the semen drying on my back under my shirt, and Adrián’s cock throbbing inside me. I said goodbye with a smile, helped Carla dry off and gather the popped balloons, and dragged her along with me down the street.

Before I left, I looked back. The mothers in the park were staring at me with a mix of disgust and envy I know well; they knew perfectly well I’d just fucked Adrián, even if none of them said it. And the fathers, meanwhile, had crowded around a flustered Adrián who didn’t know where to put himself, asking him half-jokingly for my phone number.

I laughed all the way back home. Carla nudged me with her elbow.

—You’re impossible, you know that?

—I know —I said—. And by the way, we’ll talk later about whether you’d be a good mother. But first, churros. I’ve earned them with a fucking marathon.