Loading...One of the things I enjoy about my job as a marketing representative is that it allows me to get out of the office and travel. I’ve never liked being stuck behind a desk, though when my two kids were young, travel was a bit of a problem.
Their mother left us when they were four and seven, so I had to be both father and mother from that point on. That made out of town travel very difficult, but I needed my job to make a good living for us.
Fortunately, I was able to find a grandmotherly widow who was more than happy to stay with them when I had to be away.
The kids both grew to love Mary, thinking of her in some ways as the mother they never really knew. And she returned that love in kind. I’ll always be grateful to her for helping me hold my family together during some extremely difficult times.
I went on a few dates after my wife left. I was a pretty good looking guy, I guess, with dark brown hair and eyes, tall with a trim, athletic build. There was never a shortage of women who seemed to be interested. But I devoted most of my energy to my kids and my job.
But now that my son is two years out of college and my daughter is a senior at Midwestern State University, the travel is a real plus. Whenever possible, I plan my business trips to allow me to stay over a night or two with them when I am in their area. And so it was about a month ago when my travels took me to Springfield for two days, that I had the opportunity to see Jamie again. We are about as close as a father and daughter can be, and it is really hard not seeing her for weeks at a time while she is away at college.
As I drove the 15 miles from the interstate to Springfield, my mind wandered back on the struggles the two of us had shared. I knew it was harder on Jamie, than her brother or me, not having her mother around. It was clear that she deeply resented being abandoned like that, and she’d expressed that resentment in a number of self-destructive ways growing up.
I made frequent trips to school from the time she was 12 to deal with one issue or another. Most of the trouble boiled down to the anger that she could not seem to find an outlet for. Of course, we tried counseling, but Jamie was smarter than most of the well-meaning psychologists she saw. She told them what they wanted to hear, made them feel as if she was miraculously “cured,” then went right back to doing what she’d been doing.
By the time she started high school, Jamie was growing into a beautiful young woman, with wonderful big brown eyes and dark brown hair with a natural curl (which she always tried to straighten). Her features were fine and delicate, and she had the long, lithe legs of a dancer, which she was. Jamie always complained about the size of her breasts, begging for implants as a high school graduation present, but this was one place I put my foot firmly down—partly because I didn’t want her to risk surgery for something that superficial, and partly because I thought her breasts were just right for her trim body.
The drinking and parties started her sophomore year in high school, and I can’t count the number of times I had to go pick her up and bring her home after some Good Samaritan called to alert me to her condition. Thankfully, she never got a DUI or minor in possession, but the only thing we can credit for that was sheer luck.
Of course, there were boys. And I tried to reason with her about respecting herself and all that fatherly advice—which I’m sure she ignored. I thought there might even be girls in her life, as she seemed quite close to a couple of her fellow members of the dance team. One time, at the peak of some of her problems, I searched her room and found her journal. I read about three pages before putting it back, telling myself that there were certain things a father should not know about his daughter.
With all this as background, it was an amazing transformation that took place her senior year. It was as if Jamie had finally come to her senses and decided to be the daughter I’d always prayed she’d be. She got serious about her studies and her grades climbed. Fortunately she is a bright girl, so even during the worst of times she was able to keep her grades at a decent level. But given all she’d been through, I took a special pride in seeing her walk across the stage and receive her high school diploma, and even more pride when she was admitted to my alma mater, Midwestern State.
Jamie’s first couple of years at Midwestern were up and down. She started out like a ball of fire, studying hard and never missing a class. But once she felt she had the whole college thing whipped, she slipped into the freshman party scene that almost all first year students taste.
The whole situation was exacerbated, I thought, by Jamie’s freshman roommate. Her name was Heather, and the two of them had been matched by computer. They’d never met each other in person before the day they moved into the dorm. They had traded emails and spoken by phone during the summer, and Jamie found that Heather was also a dancer and had many other interests that were the same as hers. They had several lengthy phone conversations, mostly in hushed tones, but I could tell that Jamie was really liking her new roomie.
So it was with anticipation that we lugged our first load of clothes, electronic gear and cosmetics down the hallway of the dorm that weekend before classes began. I couldn’t tell whether Jamie was more excited about seeing her room for the first time or meeting Heather in person.
When we got to 1021, the door was standing open and the room was a beehive of activity. A man and a woman about my age were busy trying to build the structure necessary to convert a conventional bed into a loft. I learned later that Jamie and Heather had decided in advance that a loft would be the best way to maximize the space in the small room.
Hardly looking up from his task, the man stuck out his hand. “Bill Manly,” he said curtly. “You must be Jamie’s dad.”
The woman smiled at me and introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Jane. Heather’s so excited about meeting Jamie.”
The excitement was certainly apparent, as the two girls giggled excitedly and hugged each other hello. It was as if they had been friends for years. They chattered animatedly as they began to stake out their territory in the room—desks, closets, beds. They had decided in advance who would bring the TV and who would furnish the microwave and the CD player. Of course, they each had their own computers.
I tried to do what I could to help Heather’s dad with the loft bed, but he went quickly about his work, and there wasn’t really much I could do except hold a board or two in place as needed. But we did talk enough for me to get to know them a little bit. Bill was a fire chief in a smaller city in Texas, about 250 miles south of Springfield. Heather’s mom was a nurse. They seemed like really nice people, although I could tell they were a bit reluctant to have Heather attend college so far from home. But she had insisted that Midwestern was the place for her, so they were going along, hoping for the best.
But it was Heather who really captured my attention. Being a 45-year-old man and Jamie’s father, it made me really uncomfortable to think it, but Heather was one of those females you look at and the first thing that comes to mind is what a good fuck they’d be. I don’t know if it’s genetic or if it’s some sort of practiced image they work on, but any man knows exactly what I’m talking about.
For those old enough to remember Gilligan’s Island, it’s the difference between Ginger and Maryanne. Both attractive women, but Ginger was fuckable. Today’s generation might think the same of Britney Spears and Carrie Underwood.
Like Ginger and Britney, Heather simply oozed sexuality. She was about the same height as Jamie—around 5-4—but with a much curvier figure. Her breasts were full and her bottom nicely rounded, yet still firm. God, 18 is a magnificent age! I figured Heather had about a 90 percent chance of being overweight by the time she was 35. But now, at this wonderful stage of her life, she was what my friends and I used to call “stacked.” And she gave every impression that she knew how to use that amazing body.
To top things off, she had straight blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders and ended about the middle of her back. And her skin was beautifully tanned, thanks we found out later, to lots of time spent during the summer on her parents’ house boat on Lake Texoma.
But the thing that stood out was the way Heather seemed to enjoy showing herself off, not necessarily to me, but just in general. To move her things into the dorm room, Heather had chosen a tiny pair of yellow cheer shorts that hugged her round, firm bottom, while still loose enough at the legs to provide a tempting view of extreme upper thigh as she bent and stretched this way and that as she helped put the room in order. She wore a tight white tank top that was barely long enough to cover her belly when she stood completely still. Of course, with the slightest movement, I was able to catch a glimpse of her belly button piercing as the shiny jewel reflected the light.
Of course, it would have been going too far in this setting to go braless with her ample bosom, so instead Heather elected to show off her bra, wearing a bright yellow one adorned with lace that was fully visible through the thin tank.
One or two times I was pretty sure Heather caught me looking at her just a bit too intently. But instead of looking uncomfortable, she just gave me this little smile, as if she knew exactly what was going on in my mind. I remember hoping she wouldn’t say anything to Jamie later about her lecherous old man.
It took nearly three hours to get everything moved in and somewhat livable, but finally the time had come for the parents to say their goodbyes. It was clear that the girls were getting impatient and wanted us to get out of the way of whatever they might have planned for their first weekend at college.
I took Jamie aside and gave her a big hug. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” I whispered to her. “You know, how far you’ve come. Make this a great first year. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she smiled back, hugging my neck just a little tighter than usual.
“And Jamie . . . ”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Don’t have TOO much fun.” As I finished, I looked over at Heather, knowing that Jamie would understand exactly what I meant.
*****
Well, as it turned out, they DID have too much fun. A month into the semester, I received an official-looking letter from “Midwestern State University, Office of Student Affairs.” It was addressed to The Parent(s) of Ms. Jamie Daniels.
“Dear Parent(s),” it read. “Your daughter was recently involved in a violation of the alcohol policy at Midwestern State University. She and her roommate were in possession of alcohol in their room in Mathers Hall. In addition to the university penalties that will be imposed, we are advising you of this infraction in the event that you wish to have a dialogue with your daughter about her use of alcohol.”
The notification did indeed spark a dialogue between Jamie and me, and I told her in no uncertain terms that future incidents would cause me to stop subsidizing her partying at good old MSU. She apologized profusely and told me she’d learned her lesson. She also told me that Heather was in it up to her neck, too, which did not surprise me in the least. God only knew what else the two of them were up to in the times when they didn’t get busted.
But Jamie promised to tone down the partying, and I think she did her best to keep her word. There were even a few tearful phone calls about Heather getting drunk and doing crazy things that Jamie was afraid would land her in trouble, too. So it wasn’t a surprise to me that at the end of the first semester, Heather’s parents returned to Springfield with their SUV and a trailer and loaded up her things and took her back to Texas.
I assumed at that point that I would never see Heather again. And I’ll have to admit to feeling a little let down that I would never again be able to turn a lecherous eye to her cute young behind, knowing that she recognized exactly what I was doing. But at least Jamie’s grades improved and things were much better over the next couple of years.
*****
But this particular afternoon, as I was winding up a long day of business travel, I got this little tingling in my belly when I saw a black Honda CRV with Texas tags parked in the driveway of the little house that Jamie had rented for her senior year, just a few blocks from the MSU campus,. Surely it couldn’t be . . .
“Hi Mr. Daniels,” Heather greeted me at the door. I felt as if I’d been transported back in time about three years. I’m sure she could tell by the bewildered look on my face that I badly needed more information.
“Jamie got called in to work this afternoon,” she explained. “She asked me to wait here and let you in.”
“Hello, Heather,” I began hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”
She looked as cute as ever, only a little more mature. There is a lot of growing up that takes place between the freshman and senior years in college. She had cut her gorgeous blonde hair short, which gave her a more mature look. But the rest of the package was pretty much the same, sparkling blue eyes and a voluptuous figure that bordered on being almost too curvy.
Her dress hadn’t gotten any more conservative, however. She was wearing a very short denim mini skirt and a black tube top that hugged her full breasts and showed off that belly piercing that had so captivated me the day she moved into the dorm.
“Aren’t you glad to see me, Mr. Daniels?” She tried to feign a little pout, but her smile peeked through, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Of course I’m glad to see you, Heather. You just surprised me. What ARE you doing here?”
“Jamie invited me to come up for the weekend and go to a concert with her Saturday night.”
“But it’s only Thursday. Are you missing class? Or are you even still in school?”
“Actually, when I left Midwestern, I decided to go to a vo-tech school close to home and get my LPN license,” she explained. “I was finished in two years, and I’m working full time now. I just decided to take a couple of extra days off.”
“Well, congratulations, Heather,” I replied, surely displaying some of the surprise I felt that this wild child had actually been licensed to care for the sick and infirm. “I think that’s great that you decided to be a nurse like your mom. Maybe you can help take care of me in my old age.”
“Oh, you’ve got a long way to go before you’re old, Mr. Daniels,” she smiled. “I think that gray around your temples is really cute, anyway. But I’d love to take care of you if you ever need it.” Then she looked directly at me as if to say, “You can read anything into that you want.”
But I chose to ignore the double entendre and plunged ahead. “I’ll bet your mom and dad are really proud of you.” I walked past her into the small living room and sat on the used couch that I had helped Jamie find at a garage sale before she moved into the little rent house. Heather followed and joined me, sitting on the other end.
“Yeah, I guess they are now. But when they pulled me out of school here halfway through my freshman year, they weren’t very proud. In fact, I was in big trouble.”
“Well, it looks like you have more than made up for it now,” I said reassuringly, hoping to turn the conversation away from some unpleasant memories.
But Heather was not ready to move on. She turned her body toward me and looked directly at me with those wide, innocent blue eyes. “Yeah, my dad was so mad when they came and got me that he gave me the hardest spanking I’ve ever had when we got home!”
The whole idea of spanking a grown daughter was so foreign to me that I couldn’t do anything but stare back at Heather with my mouth open. When she realized that this revelation had caught me by surprise, she went on.
“Oh, didn’t you ever spank Jamie when she was bad?” she asked, seemingly genuinely surprised.
“Not even when she was a little girl,” I replied honestly. “I just thought there were better ways to discipline children.”
“I sure wish my mom and dad had thought like that,” she laughed. “I can’t tell you how many times they spanked me growing up. And that one when I had to leave school hurt like nothing I’d ever had before.”
“So your dad just . . . ,” my voice trailed off with the question.
“Oh yeah,” she jumped back in, “when we got back home he had me go to my room and wait for him. I always knew it was going to happen when he did that.”
“And what happened then?’ I put one arm on the back of the couch and faced her, feeling that tingling sensation grow more pronounced.
“Well, I waited and waited. It must have been nearly an hour while they unloaded all the stuff from the car. God, I always hated to wait for a spanking. I get these butterflies in my stomach and my heart just goes crazy while I think about what they’re going to do.”
“So, I guess he finally came up?”
“Yeah, I finally heard his footsteps in the hallway, and when I saw the doorknob turn, I just about wet my pants I was so nervous.” She giggled a little at what she’d just confessed. All I could do was stare back blankly, wondering what the hell she was going to tell me next.
“Well, Daddy came into my room and his face was red and the veins were all standing out in his neck. I knew it was going to be bad. He just stood there and stared at me for a long time before he sat down on my bed. I knew what to do then.”
“What was that?” I genuinely did not know what to expect next.
“Well, I did what he always had me do. I took off my jeans and panties and laid across his lap.”
My mouth must have dropped open about that time, and Heather just sort of grinned a little and looked right at me. By this time, I was the one who was feeling butterflies in my stomach. As well as a pronounced swelling a little farther down.
But Heather didn’t wait for me to respond to that last revelation. Instead, she just tucked her legs underneath herself on the couch and in the process, parted her knees just enough for me to catch a glimpse of pink fabric beneath her short skirt. “He didn’t even bother with his bare hands,” she said. “He just jerked his belt out of the loops on his jeans and started whipping me. I knew better than to try and get away from him, but it hurt so bad, I couldn’t help it.”
I could see her face flush slightly as she recounted the story, and I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or excitement at revealing something so personal and intimate to me. All I knew was that I had developed a full-blown erection that I was doing my best to hide.
“He wouldn’t let me get away though,” Heather plunged ahead. “He used one leg to keep me from kicking my feet and pressed a hand in the middle of my back. I was pretty much helpless, and all I could do was lay there across his lap and take it.”
“God, Heather,” I finally managed, “how long did this go on.”
“It seemed like forever. But I guess he must have given me about 25 swats. By the time he finished, I was crying like a baby and begging for him not to do it any more.”
“So did he leave you alone then, to sort of ‘lick your wounds’?”
“Well, eventually he did.”
“Eventually?”
“Yeah, first he made me do corner time.”
“What do you mean, ‘corner time’?”
“Well, I got up from his lap like I always did after a spanking, and went over and stood in the corner of my bedroom. I had to touch the wall with my nose.”
“But I guess you put your jeans back on first, right?” By this time, my imagination was really running wild, and I was trying to get a complete picture of the scene there in Heather’s bedroom.
“Oh no,” she said, “I had to leave them off and stand right there with my bottom all on display. He even had my mother come in and see how red I was, just so she’d know he did a good job.”
By this time I had a pretty complete picture of the whole scenario in my mind—especially the vision of Heather’s round young ass on display. The thought of it made me squirm even more as my erection was becoming almost painful. I was pretty sure my discomfort was not going unnoticed.
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Daniels. I made sure I didn’t get in any more trouble for a long time. I think that spanking did more to get me my LPN license than anything else.”
I was totally speechless, and couldn’t do anything except try and hide my erection and stare at those wonderful nipples, which seemed to be trying to poke through the clingy fabric of her tube top.
I looked up to Heather’s face again and knew immediately I’d been busted for staring at her breasts. But she just smiled that knowing smile of hers and shifted her position a little so I had an even better view of the insides of her tanned thighs and her panties farther up.
“You know, Mr. Daniels, you really should have spanked Jamie when she was growing up.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Well, we talked a lot when we were roommates. And I know she was a pretty naughty girl.”
“Those times are over, Heather, and I think Jamie’s come through it just fine,” I assured her. “Besides, I’d just as soon leave some of those memories in the past, if you don’t mind.”
But Heather wasn’t ready to let it go. Instead of changing the subject, she plunged right ahead. “Did she tell you some of the things we did when we were rooming together?”
“Well, she didn’t have to tell me about the drinking. I got a letter from the school on that one.”
“Oh yeah, that was only part of it, you know. We had quite a few little parties with boys in the room, too. Did you know about that, Mr. Daniels?”
“Heather,” I said, my voice as stern as I could make it, “I really don’t want to hear about all the trouble you and Jamie got into. I know there was probably a lot. Now let’s change the subject.”
“Did she tell you how much she liked it when I ate her pussy?” This time I knew Heather was trying to goad me, to get under my skin. Or perhaps to turn me on, even more than I already was.
“Damn it, Heather, I don’t want . . . ”
“Oh, yeah,” Heather interrupted, “she liked it so much that she begged me for it almost every night . . . ”
“That’s it, Heather!” I shouted at her, as I felt the blood rushing to my face. “If you don’t cut this out, I may do what your father did!”
“And did she ever know how to lick a pussy herself!” she taunted. “She must have had a lot of practice in high . . . ”
By that time, I’d had more than enough, and before Heather could finish that last sentence, I leaned across the couch, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her over my lap. Her short skirt was already riding up to expose the lower part of her bottom, and I quickly jerked it higher, exposing that beautiful round ass I’d pictured a hundred times in my fantasies.
I heard her gasp in surprise as I pulled her to me, but she didn’t struggle much at all as she lay there across my lap. In fact, her only movement seemed a deliberate attempt on her part to snuggle herself right on top of my raging hard on. The feeling was delicious, but in my anger, I didn’t take time to really enjoy it.
Instead, I raised my open hand and brought it down hard on the right cheek of her ass. The sound of my hand on her tender flesh reverberated through the small living room, and I didn’t give it time to die out before giving her three more in quick succession. The blows stung the palm of my hand, but I could tell they stung Heather even more by the bright pink color that was spreading across her right cheek and the little squeals she was emitting after every swat.
“Please, Mr. Daniels, I was only . . .”
Smack! Smack! Two more hard swats rained down on her, and she definitely knew that she had lost control of the situation. By this time, I could hear her sniffling and crying a little bit as she struggled against me. And it was then I realized that her struggles were massaging my hard cock in a way that was getting me more and more aroused.
As I paused between swats, Heather turned and looked at me over her left shoulder. I could see that her cheeks were wet with tears by this time. But I didn’t get the feeling that she actually wanted me to stop. When she spoke again, I knew for sure I was right.
“Mr. Daniels,” she said as she looked at me with her big, blue eyes, “my daddy always makes me take my panties off when he spanks me.”
And without another word, I reached up and grabbed her pink thong by the waistband and pulled it down. Heather lifted her bottom up a little to help me pull the panty completely off. Then she settled back onto my lap and snuggled her belly up to my raging cock, slowly rocking herself back and forth.
At the same time, I moved my right hand slowly across her tender cheeks, feeling the warmth of the right one where I had been administering the spanking. Feeling my touch, Heather spread her legs a little, as if to invite me to move my hand between them, which I instinctively did. I heard her sigh softly as I moved two fingers along the length of her slit, which was wet with arousal.
Of course, I was well past being angry with Heather by this time, and I’d moved on to extreme arousal. However, I knew that this spanking was doing something very nice for both of us, and I didn’t intend to stop yet. So I tried to get myself back into disciplinarian mode.
“All right, young lady,” I said very sternly. “I’m going to teach you what happens when you behave like a little slut. Do you understand me?”
“Y-y-yes, sir,” she whimpered, “I’m really sorry.”
“You’re going to be even sorrier,” I barked, and I began to swat her ass once more with a vengeance. Smack! Smack! Smack! I let my hand alternate between her two round cheeks until both were almost glowing with the warmth and redness brought on my more than a dozen swats on each one.
Heather finally began to sob to the point that she was having trouble catching her breath, and I figured this had gone a bit past fun for her. “Maybe,” I thought to myself, “this will teach her not to be such a little flirt.”
But Heather’s sobs were only one reason I decided to call a halt to the spanking. My arousal had reached the point that a few more movements of her belly against my cock would have pushed me right over the edge. I still didn’t want her to know how much this whole episode had turned me on, too.
“All right, Heather,” I said in my most fatherly voice. “I guess that’s enough for now. I certainly hope you’ve learned your lesson.” With that, I helped her up from my lap, and she stood there in front of me with her denim skirt bunched up around her waist.
That particular view did nothing to ease my arousal, as it gave me a nice look at her pussy. It was, of course, completely bare, as is the fashion I suppose, for most girls her age. But the thing that immediately caught my attention was the little silver ring that pierced her clitoral hood and sparkled back at me. I must have stared at her sweet young sex for 30 seconds or more before she finally spoke and broke the spell.
“What about corner time?” she asked.
“What?” I was still in a daze from all that had happened in the past 30 minutes or so.
“My dad always . . . ”
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled absently, “go stand in the corner. And then I remembered, “And keep your nose against the wall.”
Dutifully, Heather walked over to the corner opposite the couch where she had received her spanking. But before she pressed her nose against the wall, she reached back, unfastened her skirt, and let it fall into a pool at her feet. Then she stepped out of it and assumed the proper position.
With her back to me, I was free to let my eyes roam over her body. And it was just as firm and ripe and delicious as I’d imagined. Her legs were nicely shaped and tan from her days at the lake, with only the shape of a very small bikini bottom to create tan lines. Her bottom was deliciously round and curvy. And at 21, it was still very firm and tight, probably looking at that moment as good as it ever would.
Of course, it was very red, the result of a thorough spanking that both of us seemed to have enjoyed immensely. However, I felt the need to get myself back under control before things went any farther. I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, having this kind of encounter with my daughter’s friend.
I shifted my position on the couch again, trying to find a comfortable way to accommodate my erection, which was standing straight up and pressing against my belly. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to take my hard cock out and stroke it as I looked at Heather’s bright red ass. But through sheer force of will, I managed to keep from touching myself.
I tried to think of all sorts of non-erotic things to distract from that picture of Heather’s wonderful ass displayed there before me. Finally, I closed my eyes to block out the view and started doing multiplication tables in my head like I used to do back in grade school when I had this same problem.
“God, you still can’t keep your cock under control,” I thought to myself.
After a few moments, my strategy seemed to be working, and I felt my erection begin to subside. I finally felt as if it might be safe to open my eyes again. As I did, I saw Heather—still there in the corner. But things were different.
Instead of standing straight with her nose pressed against the wall, she had shifted positions. She was bent at the waist, leaning slightly forward, with one hand braced against the wall. The other was in front of her, and from behind I could see that she seemed to be moving it. My erection sprang back to life again as I walked quietly toward Heather to see exactly what she was doing.
I needn’t have been so careful, as Heather was lost in her own world. As I grew closer and peeked around her body, I could see her hand gently tugging at that silver ring that pierced the hood of her clit. Every now and then, she would release it and flick it a few times before going back to the gentle tugging motion. From the look on her face—lips parted, eyes closed—and the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders caused by her panting breaths, it was clear that Heather was wildly aroused. The spanking had affected her as much or more than it had me.
Finally, I couldn’t take any more. Watching this ripe young girl in this wanton state of arousal was no longer enough. I had to have her . . . to feel her . . . and hopefully to take her—to take both of us over the edge. I quickly stepped up close behind her, loosening my belt as I went. In one motion, I pulled my trousers and boxers down around my ankles and stepped out of them. I didn’t even bother to shed my shirt. I couldn’t wait that long.
I heard Heather gasp as I grabbed her by the hips and kicked her legs farther apart, opening her more fully to me. I wasted no time in pressing the head of my swollen cock between her lips and positioning myself at her opening. We were both so aroused that this was not going to be a gradual entry or a slow one. In one swift motion, I pulled her back to me, thrust my hips forward, and entered her completely. My heavy balls slapped at her pussy as I sank fully inside, and I felt her warm, wet cunt envelop me.
At nearly the same time, I reached around and jerked down her tube top, exposing her firm, full breasts. She moaned softly as I began to roll her nipples between my thumbs and middle fingers. “Oh, Daddy,” she panted, seemingly lost in another world, “that feels so good.” And as she spoke, she pressed her hips backward, as if to ask for more.
I was more than happy to oblige, so I began to thrust slowly in and out. Each time, I’d withdraw my cock until only the swollen head rested between her lips. I’d thrust it hard again, deep inside. And with each deep thrust, Heather would moan the same thing, “Oh, Daddy . . . Oh, Daddy . . . Oh, Daddy.” Each time a little faster as I picked up the pace.
Soon, my cock was slick with her nectar and I was gliding in and out harder, faster, deeper. I released her breasts and gripped her hips firmly to steady us. I could feel her tight tunnel begin to spasm a little and knew that her orgasm must be close. And I knew mine was close, too.
They both arrived at virtually the same moment. I withdrew my cock to her entrance one more time, then thrust it deep and held it. My legs stiffened as my first explosion painted her insides, at the same time that her contractions began to milk spasm after spasm, load after load, from me.
I had never cum like that before! My legs began to shake and buckle from the intensity of the feeling and the effort I had exerted in fucking this beautiful creature. And Heather seemed to feel the same, as she bucked against me over and over, as if to beg me not to stop. Finally, when she seemed past her peak and on the way down, I reached around and took her clit ring between my thumb and finger and tugged gently.
“Oh fuck!” she screamed. And I felt her body roll right into a second climax. It was all I could do to keep my softening cock inside her as she bucked and rolled her hips against me.
Finally, when my legs couldn’t support us any longer, we collapsed in a heap on the floor. And as we fell, I heard a little slurping sound as my cock slipped from her, followed by a warm, slick cocktail of our mingling juices.
We lay nearly motionless for probably five minutes, our breathing gradually returning to normal. Heather finally broke the silence. “Mmmmm, Daddy,” she whispered. “You fucked me so good.”
“I’m not your daddy, Heather,” I reminded her, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with all the “daddy” references.
“You were this afternoon,” she smiled. “And you will be again . . . anytime I want.”
And despite my better judgment, I knew she was right.