I slammed the door behind me as I walked in the house, getting home from work. My boyfriend, Jason, had called me while I was driving to tell me that he wasn’t coming over tonight. I was incredibly angry at him — my parents hardly ever left me home alone, and I had been looking forward to having him over for most of the weekend. I had planned everything out, and had spent most of the day thinking about taking him into the hot tub, where we would fool around, ending the night with a long session of sex in my room.
I had been wet most of the day just thinking about it. But apparently, Jason thought it was more important to go on a road trip with the semi-pro hockey team then to take advantage of a weekend with my parents gone.
He and I had been dating since our junior year of high school, and he was the only guy I had ever slept with. Lately, I had begun to think that whatever had attracted me to him in the first place was completely gone, as I was getting more and more frustrated with him. I didn’t ask much — it wasn’t like I got jealous whenever he was with his friends or anything like that. But I did expect him to spend some time with me, and the fact that he would rather chase a hockey team than sleep with me didn’t have anything to do with me being possessive or jealous — it was insulting. I don’t understand how he’d rather go on some sausage-fest hockey trip rather than have sex with his girlfriend.
Shortly after I had kicked my shoes at the hall closet, nearly hitting the cat, and dropped my bags in the living room, the doorbell rang. I jumped, thinking that perhaps Jason had changed his mind, and ran to the door, grinning as I opened it.
Mr. Davidson, one of my neighbours, was standing on the front step with a few envelopes in his hand. The smile on my face faded slightly. “Hi Mr. D,” I said as pleasantly as I could.
“Hi, Gina,” he said. He looked at me knowingly. “Expecting someone else?”
I blushed and shook my head. “No, not really.”
He laughed. “I know your parents told you I would be checking up on you, but I don’t expect you to be by yourself all weekend. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
I sighed. “No, Mr. D. I’m really not expecting anyone.”
He frowned. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Jerry or whatever his name was?”
“Jason,” I said. “He went on a road trip with the hockey team.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mr. Davidson. “Well, I just wanted to drop off these letters. The mailman put them in my box again by accident.”
I nodded, embarrassed. Mr. Davidson must have thought I was pathetic — I had the house to myself the whole weekend, and I couldn’t get my boyfriend to come over. I took the letters from him and smiled at Mr. Davidson as he turned and walked away. He was a really nice guy, and more than once I had found myself staring at him, wondering what he’d be like in bed. He was much older than I was — older than my dad, I think, by a couple of years. I’d put him at almost 50, but he didn’t look it. I usually saw him jogging in the mornings on my way to work, or when college was in session, school. He was in pretty good shape, not built like some of the guys my age are, but pretty trim. He had broad shoulders, and dark brown hair that was greying mostly around the temples, but sprinkled throughout. A couple years ago, he had been a professor at the college I was going to now. But last year, before I started, he decided to change professions and started working as a researcher for some big company that let him make his own hours, so long as he came up with results. I was a bit disappointed — I had been looking forward to taking Mr. Davidson’s class for a long time.
I closed the door after he had stepped off the porch, though I didn’t bother locking it behind me. Whatever I thought about Mr. Davidson was really just fantasy — I knew he thought I was still just a kid, even though I was already done my first year of college. I couldn’t really blame him for that. I was fairly short, and pretty small. I hated how boyish my body looked, sometimes. My breasts weren’t that small, but unless I wore an extreme push up bra, I had no cleavage at all. My hips were fairly undefined, and I really wished I had curves. To keep myself from feeling like a boy, I let my blonde hair grow long, but that just made me look younger. No one ever believed that I was 20. When I was in school, people always thought I had skipped a grade, when in actuality, I started school a year late, and was a year older than most of my graduating class. I just looked young. I doubted that Mr. Davidson found me attractive at all. Plus, his wife had left him just a couple months before for a guy who was only a few years older than me. Being with someone my age probably wasn’t one of his top priorities right now.
But still, I couldn’t help myself from imagining Mr. Davidson coming over and just taking me. There was something intriguing about being with an older man, especially one who looked like Mr. Davidson. I loved the idea that he could show me so much, just the idea that he was older. I wondered if he would treat me like an equal, or like I was some young kid. I had to admit, I would love if Mr. Davidson would treat me kind of like a kid — telling me what to do, teasing me… I sighed as I walked down the hall, flipping through the letters he had handed me. I must be insane, I thought. I put the letters on the kitchen counter and leaned against it, thinking. I had an image in my head of Mr. Davidson lifting up my skirt and licking my pussy, my fingers tangled in his salt-and-pepper hair as he tongue-fucked me. The thought made me bite my lip. My pussy was wet, and had been fairly slick most of the day as I had thought about Jason, but I was too mad at him now. Mr. Davidson, on the other hand…
I let one of my hands slide up my stomach and start to rub my breast through my shirt. I only had a thin bra on underneath my blouse, and I could feel my nipple poking through. I pinched it through the fabric and cried out softly. Most of the time, I didn’t need to wear a bra — my breasts were small and firm enough that you couldn’t really tell in certain shirts – but I felt wrong going to work without one on. Still, they were sensitive, and even through the fabric, touching them was making me even wetter. I kept rubbing my nipple through my blouse as I lifted my skirt slightly, using a single finger to rub against my damp panties. They were so wet that I could feel the juices soaking through onto my finger, and I let myself touch my clit through the wet fabric for a few moments before I took my hand out of my skirt.
I couldn’t do this in the kitchen, I thought, and I quickly made my way to my room, which was downstairs. I left the lights in the den off, the light coming through the windows enough to see, and left the door to my room open so it was lit dimly. I started to unbutton my shirt, wanting to get my bra off so I could rub my breasts properly. I glanced in the mirror as I did so, and laughed at myself, shaking my head. I usually didn’t have to masturbate — whenever I wanted anything, Jason was more than willing to give me what I needed. If he wasn’t watching hockey, of course. And when I did touch myself, it was usually at night, in bed, before I fell asleep. I don’t think I had ever done this before — purposely gone downstairs and stripped to masturbate. The thought was kind of exciting.
I got my blouse off and dropped it on the floor, my bra soon following it. I started to rub both my tits, sighing as I pinched both my nipples. I let myself enjoy it for a few moments, before I decided I needed more. I unzipped my skirt and slid out of it, wiggling my hips so it fell to the floor. I looked in the mirror again. My nipples were hard, the rosy pink nubs sticking out from my pale breasts. I slid my hands down my stomach and hips, my skin tingling with anticipation as I touched my skin. I still had my panties on. They weren’t exactly sexy — just plain white cotton, though they were bikini cut and had a little pink rose embroidered in the center. Even in the dim lighting, I could see the wet spot between my legs. I stared in the mirror, watching as I slid a hand into my panties, rubbing my neatly shaven mound, and gasping as I started to slide a finger along my slit. I couldn’t believe how wet I was for a moment, until I thought again about Mr. Davidson licking my cunt.
The thought excited me even more and I circled my finger around my clit before sliding the tip of it into my tight, dripping wet hole. I sighed softly, pulling it out and circling my clit again before repeating the action. After a few more repetitions, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I pulled my hand out of my panties, giggling as I chucked them right out the door of my room. I sat on my bed, swinging my legs up onto the covers as I arranged the pillows so I was propped up just slightly. I started to touch my breasts again, and this time let one hand continue to fondle myself as I rubbed a finger along my slit. It was covered in juices by the time I slide it inside me, and I sighed as I moved it slowly. I closed my eyes, imagining that the hand on my breast was Mr. Davidson’s, and that he was whispering in my ear that I had to be a good little girl if I wanted more. I kept moving my finger slowly, just enjoying the feel of my tight walls as I touched myself.
I imagined that Mr. Davidson dipped his head down between my legs and was licking at my clit while he fingered me slowly, and I used my thumb to press down on it lightly. The action made me moan unintentionally, and I gasped at the sudden sound. I laughed again, remembering that I didn’t really have to be quiet — no one was home.
I kept pinching my nipple as I worked my pussy with my other hand. I started to move my finger a little bit faster, before deciding it wasn’t enough. I took it out, rubbing two fingers along my slit, collecting my juices on both of them before I slide them back in my pussy. I moaned, this time intentionally, moving my fingers slowly again. I tweaked my nipple as I gently rubbed my clit again. “Fuck,” I whispered, tilting my head back.
I was imagining Mr. Davidson licking my nipples as he fingered me, his strong hands on my knees and spreading my legs, when there was a loud bang from above me. I glared at the roof. The stupid cat had probably knocked over his scratching post again, and I was more than annoyed that he had interrupted me. I rolled my eyes, shutting them again as I continued to finger my cunt.
The image in my mind now was of Mr. Davidson, and somehow between my last fantasy and this one, he had lost his clothing. He was lying over top of me, and I could see his cock. I didn’t imagine it to be any larger than average — I was a really small girl, and big cocks kind of made me nervous. Jason had once shown me a picture of a girl not much bigger than me with a cock that must have been thicker than my wrist inside her. I think something like that would just rip me in half, and to tell the truth, they kind of scared me. An average cock was more than enough. I rubbed my hand along my pussy, moaning much louder than was necessary as I imagined Mr. Davidson rubbing his cock along me, asking me if a little girl like me could handle him. I pushed my fingers back inside my cunt, raising my hips just slightly as I pretended they were his cock. I curled my fingers a bit, rubbing them against my g-spot as I started moving them quicker. I was gasping now, still fondling my breast as I imagined Mr. Davidson thrusting into me.
I bit my lip, shuddering as I felt the onset of my orgasm coming on. In my mind, Mr. Davidson was holding my legs over his shoulders, pushing his cock deep inside me with every thrust.
“Fuck, Mr. D,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut as tight as they would go. I was close, and I moved my fingers as fast as they could, my other hand abandoning my breast so it could pay full attention to my clit. “Oh Mr. D, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck me, Mr. D…”
I don’t even know exactly what I was whispering, all I know is that in my mind, Mr. Davidson was thrusting hard into me. I was writhing under my own fingers, imagining everything I could about his cock, when I heard the floor creak outside my room.
The sound terrified me, and I pulled both my hands away from me, though it was absolute torture to do so when I was so close. “Tiger?” I said. I knew it wasn’t the cat. The floor only creaked when something about as heavy as a person stood on it — it was how I knew when my dad was trying to listen in on my phone conversations. I rolled off my bed quickly and grabbed a pair of scissors off my desk, holding them out in front of me as I walked to my bedroom door. I flicked on the light as I stepped out.
“Mr. Davidson!” I shrieked. He was standing right beside my door, a shocked expression on his face, a white envelope in his hand. “Jesus, what are you doing here?!”
I felt my face flush, and I was pretty sure the rest of my body did, too. That was when I remembered the rest of my body was naked, and I shrieked again, using my hands in a lame attempt to cover myself. I was still holding the scissors, and I dropped them onto the floor.
“I forgot to give you one of the letters,” he said, looking away from me. “I was just going to leave it on the counter but I heard you… umm… well, groan, and I thought you were hurt or sick, so I came down to…”
I took a few steps back towards my room, trying to find a shirt, a skirt, anything to cover myself. I could see myself in the mirror, my face beet-red, and the colour trailing down my neck. My clothes were on the other side of my room, so I grabbed the blanket off my bed and covered myself with it.
“I… I was just… I didn’t…” I stuttered as I walked back into the family room. Mr. Davidson was still staring at the floor, and holding the envelope. I reached out and took the envelope from him, but when I did, something fell out of his hand and to the floor. I looked down to see my panties on the ground in front of me. “Why did you…”
“They were on the floor, I thought… It was kind of dark, I didn’t know they were your… uh… panties…” he said.
I buried my head in my hands, humiliated. “Look, Gina, it’s okay,” he said. “Everyone does… that… and you know, it’s just…”
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said. Holding up the blanket, I tried to walk past Mr. Davidson so I could run into the bathroom and just hide there until he left. However, the blanket was dragging on the floor, and I had only taken a couple of steps before I tripped.
Mr. Davidson instinctively reached out, catching me before I fell on my face. The angle he caught me at, however, he had to move his foot to balance himself, and it got caught on my blanket. We both fell to the ground, Mr. Davidson’s arm around my blanket-covered waist to keep me from falling. I ended up squished between him and the wall, his arm pinned beneath me.
I looked at him for a moment after we fell, trying to figure out why, in God’s name, this was happening to me. Mr. Davidson tried to smile, though he was looking at me with a large amount of pity. He couldn’t move with his arm pinned under me, and I couldn’t get up without my blanket falling down. I was so upset that I just burst into tears.
“Hey, don’t cry, honey,” he said, his expression changing a bit.
“You must think I’m pathetic,” I sobbed, turning my head away from him. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davidson.”
“What happened to Mr. D?” he teased. “And what are you apologizing for? I’m incredibly flattered, Gina.”
I sniffled and shook my head. My stomach hurt, I was so embarrassed, and I turned my head away from him. “You think I’m just a stupid little kid, and I should be trying to prove to you that I’m not instead of just crying like a baby.” I didn’t want him to think of me as a stupid kid — my fantasy had definitely been a lot sexier than that. I flushed horribly.
He adjusted the blanket around me slightly. “I don’t think you’re a stupid little kid,” he said. “I’ve never thought that. I think you’re a beautiful girl, Gina.”
I sniffled, looking at him. “You think I’m pretty?” I whispered.
He laughed, hugging me slightly. “Of course I do. I think you’re adorable. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this, okay? I won’t tell anyone.”
I sighed, almost forgetting I was naked as I rested my head against his shoulder. “Adorable,” I said sadly.
“What’s wrong with that?”
I shrugged. “People don’t think of ‘adorable’ people in the way I was just thinking about you, Mr. D.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Gina,” he said, his voice very soft. “I can’t tell you the things I think about you. I’m older than your father. I don’t want to be a dirty old man.”
I turned my head a bit. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “We shouldn’t talk about this.” He struggled a bit, trying to get up. “Look, I promise I won’t say anything to anyone, and we won’t talk about this again, okay?”
“Mr. D, what do you mean?” I asked, standing up as he did. He started to walk to the stairs, and I hoisted the bottom of the blanket up as high as I could so I could hurry towards him. “Tell me!” I ordered, as I slipped between him and the stairs.
“Christ, Gina. You’re… you…” He stuttered for a moment before he shook his head again. “This isn’t right.”
“You think about me like that?” I asked, though I already knew the answer — he was a terrible liar. “Do you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, flushing a bit. “What difference does it make?” He tried to move past me, but I climbed a couple of stairs backwards and dropped the blanket.
“It makes a difference,” I said, standing naked in front of him.
Mr. Davidson stumbled backwards, almost falling. “Jesus,” he whispered.
I walked down the stairs, closer to him. “Mr. D, tell me. If you say that you don’t, I’ll put the blanket back on.”
“I… I…” he stuttered. I bit my lip, realising that our exchange was exciting me, and seeing as I hadn’t actually finished my session earlier, I was still incredibly wet. I knew that Mr. Davidson had thought of me like this before — he wouldn’t be so ambiguous if he hadn’t. Now all I could think about was having him touch me. Mr. Davidson cleared his throat as he looked away from me. “Gina, you’re a great kid. A young, pretty girl like you… if anyone found out that… if I even thought…”
“Have you ever thought about me while you touched yourself, Mr. D?” I interrupted, my voice breathy.
“I can’t tell you that,” he answered, sounding slightly shocked.
“If you tell me, I’ll touch myself for you,” I told him, giggling a bit. “Were you watching me earlier? Did you like it? Were you thinking that I was too young for that sort of thing? I bet you were, and I bet you liked that.”
“Gina…” he said.
I giggled again, grinning. “You just have to say it, Mr. D, then I’ll let you watch me all you want. Come on, I know you want to.”
“I…” His jaw twitched a bit as he looked at me.
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” I asked again.
He paused for a moment, and I could see him swallow. “Yes,” he finally said.
I flushed a bit, though not from embarrassment. “What do you think about?” I asked softly, just the thought of him stroking himself while he thought of me was sending little shocks through my body.
He looked away from me. “I think about you in those little shorts you wear when you’re cutting the grass. The way you’re young enough to be my daughter, and how absolutely wrong that is. I can’t help it, though. I think about how young you are and I hate myself for thinking that it makes you even more attractive, like I could just take care of you. I think about how cute you are, and how I just want to…” He stopped, and shook his head again. “Don’t do this to me, Gina. I… we… can’t.”
“What else?” I asked, feeling a tingle run though my stomach, especially when he said he could take care of me. He sounded protective, caring, like he could show me so much. There were so many things he could take care of for me. I stepped towards him again. Mr. Davidson took another step back, the couch now right behind him.
“Stop stalling, Mr. D,” I said, and with another step I was standing directly in front of him as he leaned against the couch, unable to take his eyes off my naked body. “What do you think about doing to me?” He shook his head. “Nothing? Okay, I’ll tell you. When you were watching me just now, I was thinking about you licking my pussy before you started fucking me, wondering if a little girl like me could take your cock. Did you like watching me touch myself, Mr. D?” He swallowed hard, his eyes raking over my body before he nodded slowly. I giggled and grinned. “Want me to do it again?”
He looked up at me, reaching out and taking my hand. “Gina, I would like nothing better. But you don’t understand… this is too wrong. Your parents would kill me, and you’re so young…”
I moved forward, standing so close to Mr. Davidson that I was almost touching him. “I’m not a child, Mr. D. And it’s not like I would tell my parents, I’m not stupid.” He shook his head again and I frowned, pouting a bit. “Please, Mr. D? I want it so bad.” I pulled his hand closer to me, sliding it up my hip and stomach until it reached my breast. “Please?” I said again.
Mr. Davidson stared at his hand, shaking slightly as he started to move it against my breast. I sighed softly and he brushed his fingers against my nipple. He suddenly shuddered and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him as he leaned against the couch. He sat against the arm, lowering his head so his face was in line with my breasts. His hands moved against the small of my back and down to my ass as he pushed his mouth against my breasts.
“Will you let me watch you?” he whispered, his words muffled against my breasts.
I giggled and pulled away from him, grabbing his hand. “I want to do it in my room, Mr. D,” I said as I led him towards it. I crawled on my bed, my room lit fairly well from the light being on in the den, and sat in the same place I had been before. Mr. Davidson stood in my doorway, looking nervous. I grinned. “You can’t see very well from there, Mr. D. Don’t you want to see my room?” I said, my voice higher and girlier than it usually was, and just the fact that I was teasing him like that made me giggle again. He took a step forward, smiling nervously, standing at the foot of my bed. I smiled at him before I started playing with my breasts. I rubbed them, running my thumbs over my nipples and moaning softly. I kept rubbing one breast with one hand while I moved the other to my pussy. I played with my pussy lips, tracing my smooth, shaven mound with my middle finger. I let it trail against my slit, circling my clit before I started to rub it gently. I was quickly building up again, and I moaned as I pushed my finger into my tight hole. I began to move it inside me, at a quick, steady pace. I tilted my head back, my eyes fluttering shut as I added a second finger. I was getting really into it, biting my lip as I fingered myself, and I had almost forgotten Mr. Davidson was watching me until I heard him unbuckle his belt.
I opened my eyes, looking at Mr. Davidson. His eyes were fixed on my hand moving in my pussy, and I watched him unzip his pants and pull his cock out. I moaned as he started to stroke himself, my eyes fixated on his cock. I was a little off in my fantasies of him — his cock was of average length, but thicker than I had thought. It was currently rock hard, and I couldn’t help but move my fingers a little faster as I watched pre-cum drip off his tip. I rubbed my clit hard as I watched Mr. Davidson jerk off, his vision fixated on me. His hand was moving quickly on his cock, and as he groaned, I felt my orgasm finally coming on. I started to pant, moving my fingers hard, and I came quickly, squirming from the sensations and grinding against my own hand as I cried out. I braced against the bread, shuddering under the surges of pleasure running through me.
As I came down, Mr. Davidson sat on the bed, crawling towards me. He pulled my hands toward him, sucking my juices off my fingers. I giggled as he ran his tongue against them, flicking it between my fingers. As he sucked on them, he moved his hand to my pussy, lazily rubbing my slit. I sighed softly as he touched me lightly, tracing his fingers along my slit and lips, his hand cupping my shaven mound.
He curled up next to me, leaning down to press his lips against my breasts. I bit my lip as he kissed all around my nipple. He flicked his tongue against my nipple, twirling his tongue around it before he sucked gently. His hand was still rubbing my pussy softly, his fingers just moving against me, not pushing into my cunt. His motions were relaxing, though the attention he was paying to my breasts was making me wet all over again. I let my hand trail up to his hair, gently running my fingers through his hair as I tried to get his attention. He sucked my nipple a moment longer before he looked up at me. I bit my lip shyly. “Mr. D, will you kiss me?” I asked.
He laughed softly, taking his hand away from my pussy and bringing it up to my breast, fondling me. “You’re okay with kissing an old man like me, little girl?”
I giggled, pulling myself close to him. He put an arm around me, still running his fingers along my breast as he leaned in, nipping lightly at my bottom lip before he kissed me. He ran his tongue along my lip, and I couldn’t help myself from moaning softly. He kissed much better than Jason, and his lips felt wonderful against mine. Mr. Davidson laughed softly as I sighed. He moved his lips, kissing my jaw before he moved to my neck. He sucked on my neck, his hand never leaving my breast.
“Can I ask you something?” he suddenly whispered, his lips brushing the skin just below my ear. I nodded and he sucked on my neck again. “Tell me what you’ve done with your boyfriend.”
I blushed and bit my lip. “You mean like, have I slept with him?”
He laughed a bit. “Well, yes. But what do you do when you sleep with him?”
I shrugged. “Well, I touch him for a little bit, and he fingers me a bit, and then we… well, sleep together.”
Mr. Davidson laughed again, his breath warm against my neck. “What do you touch?”
“His… well, you know what I mean,” I said, giggling a bit.
“Say it,” Mr. Davidson said. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey. Tell me what you touch.”
I bit my lip. “His c-cock,” I murmured, blushing.
Mr. Davidson groaned softly, pressing against me. “Tell me what he does to you.”
“He fingers my pussy,” I said quickly.
He sighed, licking my neck. “Tell me more.”
I shrugged. “That’s really all, Mr. D. Then I lie on my back and we… well… do it.”
Mr. Davidson moved away from my neck and looked at me. “That’s all? He never licks your pussy?”
I blushed and shook my head. “Well, he did a little bit once, but he said he didn’t like how it tasted.”
“He didn’t…” Mr. Davidson looked at me and shook his head. “No wonder you need an older man.” He immediately moved his lips back to my skin. He sucked on my neck, before licking and nibbling at my skin as he made his way down to my breasts. He sucked on each nipple, then kept moving down my stomach until he was kissing my smooth mound with his hands resting firmly on my hips. He slid his hands down against my thighs, pushing them apart. I craned my neck, looking down to watch him as he kissed my inner thighs before licking at my slick lips. I sighed, watching as he flicked his tongue against my slit before dipping his tongue into my cunt. It was better than I had even imagined. He licked at my pussy, sucking on my clit lightly. I couldn’t believe that my fantasy from just moments before was happening. I reached down, running my fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, holding his head close to me as he lapped at me. The feeling was unbelievable, and I tilted my head back as I enjoyed the sensations his tongue was causing to run through me. He teased me lazily, the movements of his mouth pleasurable but not enough to push me over the edge yet. His tongue pushed at my hole, and I got the feeling that he was enjoying just licking at me.
After a few moments of his relaxed movements, he began to move his tongue a bit faster, dipping it into my hole again as he reached up to rub my clit. I was amazed at how just a slight shift in movement could suddenly cause such different sensations to flow through my body. He flicked his tongue against my clit, moving his finger to slowly penetrate my hole. I moaned and he pushed his finger entirely in me, moving it at the same pace that he began to suck on my clit. He began to alternate his motions, sucking on my clit and fingering me one moment, before pushing his tongue into my cunt and rubbing my clit the next. He kept his movements slow, controlling my build up. When my breathing started to get a bit faster, he sped up, sliding another finger inside me as he sucked on my clit. I gasped, but found myself grinding against his hand and face. He fingered me deeply, grazing his teeth against my clit. I could feel my orgasm building up quickly, and I was squirming underneath him. Suddenly, he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot, and I was suddenly teetering on the edge. I squirmed underneath him, crying out loudly. As I did, Mr. Davidson twirled his tongue around my clit and sucked, pushing me into my second orgasm. My hands were still in his hair, and when the blinding white had faded from my eyes, I realised I was pushing Mr. Davidson’s head against my dripping cunt. His tongue was lapping at me in the same lazy way it had been when he started, and I pulled my hands away, a little embarrassed.
“Sorry,” I murmured, giggling a bit as he pulled his head from between my legs and kissed my mound softly.
“I have no idea why you would be,” he said. “That was thoroughly enjoyable.” His hands were on my hips, rubbing me gently as he moved up from between my legs. He lay next to me on the bed, kissing my neck as I recovered from my orgasm. I turned toward him, enjoying the feel of his lips on my neck, when I realised that he was still fully dressed. Not only that, but I had already had two orgasms, and I hadn’t even touched him yet. It was strange to me — Jason always demanded that I stroke his cock before he would touch me. I was so used to it that the fact that Mr. Davidson hadn’t said anything yet was completely foreign to me — the fact that he had put me before him was strange. As I realised it, I started to pull on Mr. Davidson’s shirt, wanting to touch him, make him feel as good as he had made me feel. He kept kissing my neck, and I pulled his shirt up. He moved his lips away from me as I pulled it over his head, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me close to him as soon as I had it off him. My breasts were pressed against his chest and I could feel my hard nipples pressed against him. He was toned, the arms around me muscular, but not huge. He sucked on my neck again, not hard enough to leave ugly marks like Jason did, but lightly, just allowing an electrifying sensation to run through me. I ran my hands down his arms, pulling him away from me slightly so I could reach his pants. They were still unzipped, but at some point he must have pulled them up again. I pushed his pants down his hips, taking my time as I returned to his underwear and pulled them down. His cock had softened a little bit, but it was still mostly hard, and I reached down to stroke it gently as Mr. Davidson leaned up to kiss me. I kissed him for a moment, then nudged him, making him roll onto his back. He did and I moved on top of him, using my mouth to kiss and lick down his body in the same way he had done to me.
By the time I got to his cock, it was rock hard again. I stroked it slowly, using just the tip of my fingers, and stuck my tongue out, licking his tip tentatively. I felt Mr. Davidson’s hands on my shoulders and I looked up. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
I giggled. “I don’t mind, Mr. D. Jason says I’m pretty good at it, but I only do it to him as a treat, since I never seem to get anything back.”
Mr. Davidson laughed and shook his head. “That boyfriend of yours needs a kick in the ass,” he said. I shrugged, then returned to his cock. I flicked my tongue out again, licking his tip before I licked the underside of his cock. I glanced up as I did so. Mr. Davidson’s eyes were fixated on me, and I smiled before I licked the rest of it. There was a drop of pre-cum leaking out his tip, and I licked it up before I slid his cock into my mouth. I heard Mr. Davidson groan quietly, and I sucked on just his tip before I popped his cock out of my mouth, licking it again. I twirled my tongue around his tip for a moment before I slid him back into my mouth, only this time instead of stopping at his tip, I took as much of him as I could. He groaned a bit louder that time, and his hands moved from my shoulders to the back of my head. “Just a little more, Gina,” he murmured, putting just a bit of pressure on my head. I tried to take more of his cock, but it hit the back of my throat and I started to gag, pulling back a bit. As I did, I used one of my hands to fondle his balls, rubbing them gently as I bobbed my head on just his tip. I sucked lightly on him, then tried to take more of him again. I gagged a little less, and Mr. Davidson pushed up just the slightest bit into my mouth, holding me there for a moment before I pulled back. I kept sucking on him, alternating between sucking on his tip and trying to swallow his entire cock, all the while rubbing his balls. I was really getting into it, enjoying the sporadic groans from Mr. Davidson and the feel of his cock when it was stuffed in my mouth, when Mr. Davidson held my head back. I glanced up at him, his tip still resting in my mouth. His breathing was a bit faster and he smiled at me. “Your boyfriend was right, you are good. I can’t take much more of that,” he said. “I don’t want this to be over so fast.”
I grinned, sucking on his tip teasingly before I pulled away from him completely. He pulled me up on top of him and I straddled him, resting against his stomach. I could feel his cock against my ass before Mr. Davidson pulled me forward, my ass lifting up in the air. He lifted his head a bit, his mouth finding my hard nipple almost instantly as he reached behind me and grasped my ass. He sucked on my nipple, making me cry out before he moved his head between my small breasts, kissing each of them before moving his attention to my other breast. I sighed and pushed my breasts against him. After a few moments, he pulled me down his body a bit, kissing me hard as his hands guided my lower body down. I felt his cock pressing against my pussy, which was wet from the attention he had been paying to my breasts. I sighed against his lips and he grazed his teeth against my bottom lip. “Is this okay?” he whispered, completely serious. “We can stop if…”
I pulled away from his mouth and looked at him. “I don’t want to stop. I want you to fuck me, Mr. D.”
He stared at me for a moment, looking slightly amused before I kissed him again. As I did, he pulled me down completely on his cock, thrusting up into me. I couldn’t help but cry out — he was much thicker than Jason was, and I could feel him stretching me. He buried his cock in my cunt, and held me still against him for a moment before he started to guide my movements, his hands never leaving my ass. I gasped as I moved against him. Jason and I had never fucked in this position, and Mr. Davidson was hitting places in my cunt that I didn’t even know existed. Soon, Mr. Davidson’s hands were just resting against my ass as I rode his cock, moving my hips hard against him. I gasped and moaned, feeling myself build up in a way I had never felt before. My movements started to get a bit more sporadic, but before I could cum, Mr. Davidson stilled my movements, his hands holding me firmly down against him.
I looked at him, panting. “Please, don’t make me stop,” I gasped, trying to writhe against him, so close that I could feel myself falling away from my orgasm. I groaned in frustration and Mr. Davidson kissed me again.
“You’ll thank me later, honey,” he whispered, before sitting up with his cock still buried in me. He lifted me, standing up off the bed. I squealed as he did, surprised that he was lifting me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist quickly, holding myself up as I hugged his shoulders. Mr. Davidson laughed, his hands supporting me underneath him, and made to turn me onto my back.
“Can we try something?” I asked suddenly, before he laid me on the bed.
Mr. Davidson kissed me. “Of course,” he said.
I flushed a bit. “Can you… can we try it against the wall?”
He kissed me again. “Of course.” He took a step, moving me against the wall in my room. I jumped as he pressed me against it, the wall cool against my back. Mr. Davidson braced me against the wall, pressed close against me as he started to move slowly inside me. I cried out softly and he kissed my neck. “You’re so amazing,” he whispered, his voice muffled by my neck and staggered as he gasped for breath. “I love how young you are. That make me bad?”
I shook my head, gasping as he fucked me. “I like it too, Mr. D,” I said. And I wasn’t lying — the way he was fucking me was one thing, but the fact that he was old enough to be my father was adding much more to the experience — each time I thought of it, my stomach fluttered and I couldn’t keep myself from grinding against him.
He groaned, his mouth against my skin as he thrust into me. “I loved watching you suck on me,” he murmured in the same staggered tone. “Your little mouth… fuck, making me feel like a dirty old man. But it’s so good. Fuck…” I gasped as he talked, the words just adding to the sensations flowing through me. This angle, too, was different, and before long I was squirming against him, wanting to cum. Mr. Davidson, again, slowed, just burying himself in my cunt. This time, I couldn’t help myself from crying out loudly and pushing against him just slightly. “No…” I gasped. “Please, Mr. D, I need to cum…”
He laughed. “I want you on your bed. I love the thought of you on your bed,” he said, lifting me again and moving to the bed. He gently laid me on the bed, my head on a pillow as he held himself over top of me. He kissed me again before he started thrusting into me. His pace was slow and I moaned, lifting my hips off the bed to grind against him. “Not yet, little girl,” he whispered, holding my hips down with his hands as he moved inside me.
“Please, please, Mr. D,” I gasped, a tingling sensation running through me as he called me a little girl. “I need to, so bad…”
He groaned, and I got the feeling that he couldn’t help himself from moving faster inside me. I sighed in relief, feeling myself building up again as he thrust into me. “I’m close, baby,” he gasped. “Where do you want me to cum?”
“Inside me,” I gasped back. “Jason’s never cum in my pussy before, Mr. D, I want you to.”
He groaned again, his pace hard and fast. “Is that okay?” he asked.
“Don’t you want to cum in my little girl pussy?” I asked, giggling and gasping, moving against him as I tried to push myself over the edge.
Mr. Davidson made a noise, thrusting hard into me. He reached down, rubbing my clit hard, pushing me over the edge. I cried out loudly, squirming underneath him as the hardest orgasm I’ve ever had washed over me. As if from a distance, I heard Mr. Davidson grunt, and I felt him spurt inside my cunt. The feeling of his hot cum inside me prolonged my orgasm as I gasped and writhed beneath him. My eyes were squeezed shut as I shuddered, multiple waves of bliss running through me. It seemed to last forever, and when I finally began to come down from it, I felt Mr. Davidson’s lips on my neck again. His cock was still buried in my cunt. I moved against him and he pulled out, moving away from me and lying beside me. I collapsed completely, lying on my back just trying to catch my breath. After a few moments, I rolled to face him. Mr. Davidson was looking at me, and when I smiled at him, he looked relieved.
“It was okay?” he asked as I moved close to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I rested my head on his chest.
“It was amazing,” I whispered. “I like being a little girl for you, Mr. D.”
He laughed, holding me close. I snuggled against him, shutting my eyes. I hoped he liked girls who got their own way, because I wasn’t letting him leave my house for the rest of the weekend.