Loading...Around two o’clock on the afternoon of her nineteenth birthday, Katie was bored. She perched on the arm of her Dad’s favourite chair and gazed out of the window at the quiet street where she had grown up. The house was on a T junction so Katie could look straight down a stretch of road for about a hundred yards, past the neat front gardens, to where the street curved out of sight. Nothing moved in the sunshine. The whole street seemed to be taking a summer afternoon nap.
It was strange being home for the summer after her first year at University. This familiar world seemed small and limiting now. In her English Literature class she had studied Philip Larkin, and his line, “Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,” seemed very apt to her now. And it was sweet of her Dad to promise her a birthday barbecue that evening, but her heart was not in it. She felt she barely knew the neighbours and old classmates whom Dad would invite.
Katie thought about the previous weekend, just after the last end-of-year exam, and the start of the heatwave. Sunbathing with her best friend Beth on the flat roof at the back of their shared apartment. Drinking chilled white wine, daring to go topless, almost certain nobody could see them, while perhaps hoping that someone might. She wondered what Beth was doing. Probably having sex, or about to have sex, or maybe she’d just finished having sex. Beth’s phenomenally active sex life rather threw a spotlight on the continuing existence of Katie’s virginity, which she had hoped to rid herself of at University. In the strictest physical sense, she had, of course, taken care of it herself in a drunken and rather uncomfortable experiment with a hairbrush handle. But that wasn’t really the point. She thought back to that afternoon on the roof with Beth.
****
One week earlier …
“Kate, babes, it’s nothing to worry about. It’ll happen for you. You are fucking gorgeous, girl, look at you. It’s no big deal anyway. It’s only sex. If you want to sort yourself out quickly, what about that guy David in your English class? He seems sweet and he obviously fancies you. You could do worse.”
“Beth, you say it’s ‘only’ sex because you get so much of it,” Katie replied half humorously. “I dunno, maybe I am making too big a deal out of it but surely I’m missing something. I really like David as a friend. I’m afraid sex would spoil that. And anyway I wouldn’t know what to do, the longer it goes on the more obvious it will be how inexperienced I am if someone ever does want me.”
They lay on the flat roof in their bikini briefs, enjoying the sun’s warmth on their naked breasts. The physical contrast was almost comical. Katie delicate, petite, blonde; Beth heavy and voluptuous with thick black curls. In six months of sharing a flat with Beth, Katie had been at first astonished and then amused by the number and variety of Beth’s conquests, who would usually appear in the shared kitchen the morning after a busy night, looking for coffee. Off hand, Katie recalled meeting Tom, Richard, Other Richard, Mateusz, Stuart, Sanjeev, Chris, Jean-Baptiste, Tom again, this time accompanied by Eddy, and a startled-looking blonde called Caroline. And at least as many again whose names she had never known.
“I mean, Beth, who will want some hung-up little virgin like me, when there are women like you out there who are so …”
“So … what, Katie? So horny? So depraved? Honestly babe, I just enjoy sex but I don’t do anything special, it’s not like I’m ultra kinky or anything. I just suck and fuck, babe, honest.” Beth’s Welsh accent grew more pronounced as she warmed to her theme and to the wine. “You know, a lot of guys don’t like anything too advanced anyway. I offered to wear some nice lingerie for Stuart and he said no. And a couple of them didn’t even want me to go on top. All pretty basic.”
For a second Katie conjured an image of Beth straddling and riding one of her skinny college boys, her monumental breasts swaying above his terrified face. She smiled, but the sadness at her own lack of a sex life reasserted itself very quickly. Sighing, she turned to lie on her front, propped up on her elbows with her chin in her hands. The sun felt good on the nape of her neck, newly exposed since the daringly short haircut she had finally decided on a week ago. Beth sensed her friend’s disquiet and turned to mirror her position, Sphinx-like. Her huge bosom rested heavily on the beach towel under her.
“Katie, this is really getting to you, isn’t it, babe?”
“Yes … no … oh I don’t know. It just feels like part of life is missing, you know? I’m sorry to moan, Beth, you must find me really boring company.”
“Bollocks, my dear, with all due respect. I love you dearly, Katie, but you don’t half talk some nonsense sometimes. You know what you need, apart from the horribly obvious?”
“What?”
“Dr Beth Jones’s Sexual Counselling Service – at your, er, service, Miss Bishop!”
“Oh leave it, Beth, please …”
“I’m serious, hon, we talk about this stuff but we never talk about it properly, you know? And I can see you’re unhappy and I care about you … no, seriously, Kate, I do. We’re both going home for the summer tomorrow and I don’t want to leave you like this. So let’s fucking talk about it, yeah?”
Even after being so close to Beth all year, Katie could not always distinguish her mock anger from real impatience. She found it was usually best just to play along, once Beth had the bit between her teeth. “OK, OK. So what does Dr Jones advise?”
Beth pushed her sunglasses to the end of her nose and looked over them at Katie. She put on a pompous, pedantic tone. “Miss Bishop, do you find you are able to become physically aroused, and even attain climax, under self-administered manual stimulation?”
Katie laughed. “Yes, Dr Jones, I have attained climax under self-administered manual stimulation on average at least once every day since about the age of fourteen. In fact I find I become rather readily aroused and reach climax relatively quickly.” Katie’s nipples puckered slightly, as if to emphasise what she had just said.
“That is very encouraging, Miss Bishop, it means you are not in any way lacking in libido. Now it is a question of finding your sexual focus. When administering manual stimulation to yourself, what thoughts or images do you bring into your mind?”
Katie was silent for a second, then answered in a low, serious voice, “Fucking hell, Beth, that’s it. You’ve got it. I don’t know what it is that turns me on. I have given myself hundreds of orgasms but I don’t have pictures or stories in my head when I do it. What do you think about?”
In her own voice again, Beth replied, “Well, my last half decent shag mostly. Or some other highlight. But really graphic, visual, you know? I’m trying to remember what I thought about before I’d ever had sex. Imagined stuff, I suppose, but still very specific and visual, some guy at school or whatever. You don’t?”
“No, no I don’t. I’ve tried looking at porn but I find it really boring. I mean with me there is something I think about but it’s … I don’t know … kind of hidden, unreachable. I don’t really know what it is.”
“You baffle me, Miss Bishop. Seriously, Katie babe, this is deep stuff.”
Katie continued, seemingly fascinating herself with what she was saying, “Whatever it is, I have not met it yet. But it arouses me intensely. And I do know that it is male, and very much stronger than I am, and that what gets me off is giving myself up to this … this thing, this masculine power.”
As she spoke, Katie could feel herself getting turned on, pushed her pubis gently down into the towel. The sun went behind a cloud. Katie very much needed to touch herself now. Beth read the situation perfectly. “A nameless, numinous, overpowering masculine force turning our little Katie on and getting her off, eh? Fair enough, babe. And there’s boring Beth, just thinking about cocks. Now who’s the kinky one? Listen babe, we’re out of wine. I think we each need a little bit of a lie down in our own rooms, am I right?” She winked lasciviously. Katie burst out laughing. She picked up her towel, climbed back into the flat through the large window, closed her bedroom door behind her, lay on the bed and began to play with her nipples.
***
In the living room at home a week later, her recollections were arousing Katie again. She shifted slightly on the arm of the chair so that the seam of her tight jeans sat just right in her crotch, and squeezed her thighs together gently. Ever since the conversation with Beth, ever since she had tried to put into words her formless desires, Katie’s sex drive, always strong, had become overwhelming. She wanted to go into her room and make herself come, but the thought that Dad might be home soon stopped her. Rationally, she knew he must realise that his adult daughter was a sexual being, but it never felt right masturbating at home during the day if he was around. “Male … stronger than I am … what gets me off is giving myself up …” her words to Beth went round in her head . A movement caught her eye, through the window. A man was walking along the street in the direction of her house.
As he got closer, she realised it was Mr Roberts, her Dad’s boss, almost unrecognisable in a grey t-shirt, faded jeans and sandals instead of his usual business suit. He walked purposefully. Surely he would not be coming here? He had never come to the house before. As he got to the T junction Katie waited for him to turn left or right. He did neither. Shit shit shit, she thought, he is on his way here.
Katie sprang up from the chair and stood in front of the full length mirror in the front hallway. She knew it could only be a few seconds before Mr Roberts rang the bell, but in that time she checked herself out very thoroughly. Barefoot on the laminated wood floor. Blonde hair in a short pixie cut, flattering her delicate features. A startling, yellowy blonde – nobody would believe it was natural, which it was, until they noticed that her eyebrows and eyelashes were only a shade darker. Big, dark blue eyes. No make-up, no jewellery. Clear skin, a golden tan. Tight white t-shirt on her slender torso. No bra. Very, very obviously no bra. Not that her small, high breasts needed the support, but the t-shirt clung to them and highlighted the fact that her nipples were noticeably large and prominent. The fine downy hairs on her arms were shimmering and translucent. Tight, dark blue skinny jeans. She turned her back on the mirror and looked over her shoulder at it. Although she was very slim, there was a feminine flare to her hips, and the jeans showed off her high, rounded buttocks to good advantage. “Bum like a fucking lap dancer, babe,” Beth had once said. Katie heard footsteps crunching the gravel of the driveway. She repeated to herself again and again what Beth had said on the roof: “You are fucking gorgeous, girl … you are fucking gorgeous, girl … fucking gorgeous, girl … fucking gorgeous fucking gorgeous fucking …”
The doorbell rang. Katie took a deep breath in and out, and opened the door. “Hello Mr Roberts, what can I do for you?” He took his sunglasses off and squinted slightly as he looked from the sunlit doorstep into the shade of the house. He spoke in a soft, calm voice.
“Oh hello, Katie. Is your father home? I need to speak to him. It’s important.”
Katie, to her own fury, began to babble straight away. “Oh, ah, no, Mr Roberts, I’m sorry. He’s in town, buying some stuff for a barbecue this evening … it’s my birthday actually … er … yes … actually he said he might meet up with some of the guys from work in a pub as well, there’s some football on TV or something, I don’t know, actually I didn’t think they played football in summer … maybe it’s from abroad or something, or actually cricket or tennis or something … anyway, yes, actually he’s in town and he should be back a bit later, I think. Have you called his mobile at all?” She blushed very deeply, feeling silly and girlish.
“Thank you Katie. I really would prefer to speak to your father in person. Perhaps I should come back later. Thank you, anyway. And happy birthday.” He put his sunglasses on and began to turn away.
“Er, Mr Roberts, actually, I could call him and ask him to hurry back if you would like to wait. Would you like to come in? I’ll just get my phone.” Mr Roberts took his sunglasses off again and stepped into the hallway. Blushing insanely, Katie rushed to get her phone from the coffee table, muttering inwardly, “Fuck’s sake, Katie, get a fucking grip, girl, and at least stop saying fucking ‘actually’ every other fucking word. You’re a fucking English student.” Another deep breath, and she walked, deliberately slowly and calmly, back to the hall as she dialled her father’s number. She gave Mr Roberts what she hoped was a pleasant, relaxed smile. Then heard her father’s phone ringing in the kitchen. “Oh no, I am sorry, Mr Roberts, he’s left his phone behind. I don’t know what to suggest. I mean, you are very welcome to wait here for him but I really don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Thank you Katie.” He paused. “The thing is, I have another commitment myself later this afternoon … let me think for a moment.”
“Er, is there anything I can do to help, Mr Roberts, or … er … would you like a drink … or anything?”
“No thank you, Katie. Ah … Katie – may I speak to you frankly? I think you should be aware of the situation.”
“Oh of course, Mr Roberts, please come in and sit down.” She led him into the living room. He sat on the chair where she had perched before. She was scared now. She sat on the sofa.
“Katie, there is no easy way of saying this.” He fixed her with a steady gaze of his very beautiful, slightly sad, green eyes. His voice remained soft. “I can’t afford to keep your father on at work. I have tried and tried to find a way to make ends meet, but his work has been so poor for months now that he’s costing the business. Head Office are asking questions. I’ve got younger guys on the way up who could do his job and more. I’m sorry. Your father’s a good man; I have great personal respect for him. But these days he is a liability to my own livelihood.”
Tears started in Katie’s eyes. No way had she expected this. Dad had always seemed so upbeat about work, full of happy anecdotes about his colleagues, never short of money when she needed help. Business was good, he had always told her. “Mr Roberts … I can’t take this in. Oh God, I am sorry. Mr Roberts, this will destroy him. He loves that job. Since Mum left, it’s been his life, and now I’m away at Uni it matters even more. He has nothing else …” She sobbed. Mr Roberts looked impassive, neither sympathetic nor hostile. “I mean, is there anything I can do to help?” she continued through her tears. “I’m home all summer, could I maybe help him at work, get him back on track?”
“Katie, that is very good of you. You’re a good daughter to your Dad. But that’s not the way things work. There are all kinds of reasons – legal, insurance – why I can’t just take you on as casual assistance in the summer. And before you say it, I don’t think you should give up your studies for this. I’ve heard you are doing well at college. You need to look after yourself as well as him.”
Katie dabbed her eyes dry with a tissue. She felt shaky, vulnerable. Her preening before the mirror seemed ridiculous now. She tried to rally herself. “Excuse me for a moment, Mr Roberts.” She went into the bathroom, splashed her face with cold water, brought her breathing back under control. Come on. Fucking gorgeous, girl.
There was only one thing that could happen next.
She went back into the living room to find that Mr Roberts was standing, looking out of the window. He turned as she came in, silhouetted against the sunlight. “Are you all right, Katie?”
She looked at him. He was a bit younger than her father – mid thirties, probably – and while, like Dad, of medium height and build, somehow seemed stronger, more of a presence in the room than Dad ever was. “Yes, I’m fine, Mr Roberts. I’m sorry I got upset. Mr Roberts …”
“Yes Katie?”
“Mr Roberts … when I asked just now if there was anything I could do to help Dad keep his job, I meant anything. Really, absolutely anything.”
There was complete silence for several seconds. “You didn’t mean it when you first said it, Katie, but you do now, I understand that. You will do absolutely anything to save your father’s job. Anything I ask you to.”
“Yes, I will.”
Another long silence. “Katie,” he said, still in that low, soft voice, “I will make a deal with you. This is how it works. From this moment onwards, while I am in your house today, you will do absolutely everything I tell you to do, immediately and without question. I will ask you questions and you will answer them truthfully. I will give you instructions and you will follow them precisely. I will decide how long this arrangement lasts. If you keep to it, I will do everything in my power to save your father’s job. If you do not, he is unemployed as of Monday. Do we have a deal, Katie?”
Katie’s head swam. She heard her own voice as if from a distance saying “Yes, Mr Roberts, it’s a deal.” Her stomach churned with apprehension at the same time as she began to feel her arousal returning.
“Good girl. Stand still in the middle of the room. Just there.” He walked slowly around her as if viewing a sculpture at an exhibition. “Your father is very proud of you, Katie.”
“Thank you, sir.” He had not told her to address him as “sir” but it came naturally to her, and he did not correct her.
“He talks about his wonderful daughter all the time at work. When you were younger we heard all about the school orchestra, the gymnastics team, the poetry prize. Now we hear what a brilliant student you are, the commendations from your tutors, the stellar exam results. How you are making friends and everyone loves you. But we never hear about a boyfriend. There has never been a boyfriend, has there, Katie?”
“No, sir.”
“Which seems strange, because you are an exceptionally beautiful young woman as well as being intelligent and charming. Fucking gorgeous, in fact, as the men at work said when your father passed round the photos from your eighteenth birthday party.”
“Thank you sir.” The echo of Beth’s pep talk made her catch her breath.
“Take your t shirt off, Katie. Remember our deal.”
“Sir, I’m not wearing …”
“Not wearing a bra. I can see. It’s very obvious and you know it. I mean, it’s fair enough, you have small and very firm breasts so there is little need for support. And you also know perfectly well that you have noticeably long, thick nipples. You enjoy people noticing them, don’t you, Katie, perhaps even making them embarrassed at how blatantly you show them off? I can imagine you in a tutorial at college, innocently presenting a careful, erudite analysis of some poem, secretly enjoying the fact that all the men in the room can’t stop staring at those amazing nipples. Am I right? Tell the truth, remember.”
“Yes sir.” Deep inside her there was a warm heaviness of arousal.
“Good girl. Now take your t shirt off and stand with your hands at your sides.”
She did as she was told. He carried on walking around her. “Nice tan. So you went topless, I like that. Was anyone watching?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t think so.”
“But you would not have minded too much if someone was, I expect.” She nodded. “Were you on your own, Katie?”
“No sir. My friend Beth was there.”
“Ah yes, I’ve heard about Beth from your father. Welsh girl, yes?” Katie nodded again. “Loud mouth, big tits, has already fucked half the men in the University and will get through the other half before she graduates, that about right?”
Katie was angry at his casual, coarse dismissal of her dear friend, but could not let it show. “I suppose so, sir.”
“I don’t think your father approves of Beth, Katie. Thinks she is a bad influence on you. Is she a good student?”
“Sir?” Katie could not believe that as she stood there with her breasts exposed he was asking about Beth’s academic record.
“Beth. What is she like as a student?”
“She’s brilliant. Modern Languages. Really talented and hard working. She’ll probably end up working for the UN or something.” It was true, even if Beth made it hard to believe.
“But she hides her academic talent and diligence behind that brash, slutty exterior, right?” Katie nodded again. “Whereas you are quite upfront about your dedication as a student, Katie. And you’re hiding … what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, sir.” It was the truth. He stood close to her and very very softly ran the backs of his fingers down one of her breasts and over her nipple. For a second she almost lost control of her breathing. He did the same to the other breast. Her nipples were harder than she could ever remember them being. “Sensitive, aren’t they, Katie? We’ll explore that a little more in a moment.”
He stepped back. “Take your jeans and knickers off, Katie. I want to see you naked. Take them off and stand with your arms at your sides.”
Her hands were trembling so much that she struggled to undo her jeans. Clumsily, she peeled them off, then slipped off her plain white cotton knickers. She could see that the crotch of the panties was damp with her vaginal juices. And she knew he could see that too. She stood as he had asked her to.
“So you didn’t dare to go nude, Katie? Maybe next time, eh?” She knew that her skin was pale where her hipster bikini briefs had covered her in the sun, and that the tan lines were sharp. “But I must commend you, Katie, on not being a slave to fashion. So many young women seem determined to remove every strand of body hair. It is very good indeed to see proper pubic hair on a girl.”
It was true: Katie trimmed her bush enough for the bikini but this had still left a generous triangle of thick, sandy coloured hair. She loved the feel of it under her hand when she masturbated.
He stepped close to her again and gently placed the palm of his hand on her hairy mound. She shuddered. Her cunt was very wet now. She could smell the aroma of her own secretions in the warm room.
“Katie, before we go any further we do have to address the matter of recompense for your father’s shortcomings at work.”
“Sir?” Again she was disorientated. How could he have his hand on her pubes and be talking about Dad’s work?
“I feel that we should include a disciplinary element into our conversation here. I want you to accept a punishment on your father’s behalf. Walk to the table over there. Stand facing it.”
There was a small dining table at the back of the living room. Katie stood in front of it, looking through the French windows at the sunlit garden, her mind reeling and her body consumed with arousal.
“Stand with your legs together. Bend over so that your palms and elbows are flat on the table. Look straight ahead. I am going to spank you. It will be painful. But I expect that is not the only thing it will be.”
She obeyed him precisely. He stood very close behind her, slightly to her left side, placed his left hand on the base of her spine, which sent another shudder through her. “You have the most perfect arse, Katie. Good to see just a hint of curves on such a slim girl. You’d make a great lap dancer.” Again, unbelievably, he had echoed Beth.
And then he began to spank her. Hard, in a slow, steady rhythm across both her firm buttocks. Each blow stung her skin but then sent a flood of deeper pain into the core of her body where it mingled with the intense sexual arousal that had been consuming her all day. “You may cry out if you need to, Katie, although of course the neighbours will probably hear.” he continued to spank. Her body jolted and tensed with each blow. She moaned loudly, wriggled her bottom, pushed it out towards him, seemingly asking for more. He obliged, quickening the rhythm and increasing the strength of his slaps. “Sir! Sir I’m sorry about Dad! Please! Please punish me in his place! Yes! Yes sir!” The moans coalesced into a long, high pitched whine as he rained a machine-gun salvo of blows onto her arse cheeks. She screamed. Didn’t care who might hear.
He stopped. She was panting, glistening with sweat, whimpering softly to herself now, writhing slightly as she squeezed her thighs together. “Katie, move your feet apart a few inches.” She did so. She felt his hand slide up her inner thigh, there was a second’s pause, and then he pushed his thumb right inside her cunt. Katie’s whole body bucked and she gasped uncontrollably, hyperventilating, dizzy. Mr Roberts still spoke calmly. “You have become extraordinarily aroused by the spanking, Katie. You are very very wet indeed. Your inner thighs and bum crack are glistening with cunt juice. As you know, your clitoris and inner labia are rather large and prominent in any case, and they are exceptionally swollen. Although your vagina is tight and virginal, you are so wet and soft that you could be penetrated effortlessly. But not quite yet. You masturbate a lot, don’t you, Katie?”
“Ye … yes sir.” Her voice was a whisper as the touch of his hand inside her made her head spin.
“How often?”
“Most days at least once. Sometimes more. Usually in bed at night. Sometimes in the shower. Sometimes in the toilets at University if I really can’t wait.” She could only manage short sentences between gasps.
He eased his hand out of her, eliciting a deep moan. “Show me.”
“Sir?”
“Come back to the sofa and masturbate for me.”
On unsteady legs, Katie made her way to her father’s new sofa and sat down in the middle of it, oblivious to the wet stain she would leave. She looked up at Mr Roberts. By now any sense of resistance had evaporated. She was utterly, deeply committed to obedience.
He stood in front of her. “Show me how you do it, Katie, come on, there’s a good girl.”
“I … I usually start with my tits,” she said, licked the fingertips of her right hand and started caressing and tweaking her nipples in turn. They flushed a darker pink and jutted hard, their length and thickness almost out of proportion to her tiny breasts. She licked her left hand fingers, played with both tits at the same time.
“Good girl,” said Mr Roberts. “I knew your nipples would be very sensitive.”
Katie massaged and kneaded her breasts, pinched her nipples. She leaned back in the sofa and spread her legs very wide, raising her knees high, placing her heels on the edge of the sofa so that her cunt was fully, shamelessly exposed to Mr Roberts’s impassive gaze. Her right hand moved down over her slender belly and nestled in her pubes. Lovingly, she stroked her mound and teased her pubic hair in her fingertips. She began a slow, subtle grinding of her hips. Her inner thighs glistened wet. So did the leather of the sofa. She looked at Mr Roberts. Now she could see a bulge in his jeans. He began to caress his erection through the denim. She moved her hand down a little further, reached her clit. It was so slick with her juices that she could barely get any friction going against it. She rubbed it with her middle finger, lightly but fast, and felt it swell even more.
“Good girl,” said Mr Roberts again, rubbing himself a little harder. Katie brought both hands to her crotch now. her right hand continued to rub her clit while the left moved further down, where she began to work her fingers into the soaking wet cleft between her thick labia, and gradually right inside. Not far off now. Her breathing became shallow and irregular. Her hands moved faster. She felt the first, distant tremors preceding climax.
“Stop!”
Katie screamed in disbelief. “Sir!!”
“I’ll let you come soon, Katie, but I’m going to fuck you first. I’d like you on all fours towards that end of the sofa.” Clumsily, she moved into the required position, found herself looking towards the front window again with her elbows on the arm of the sofa and her bottom raised high. He moved out of sight behind her. She heard a belt being unbuckled and the sound of his jeans slipping off, felt his weight on the sofa as he climbed onto it behind her. Nothing for a second, then something smooth and firm was being rubbed up and down the cleft between her buttocks, then further down, rubbing against her cunt lips. He was rubbing his cock against her, preparing the way, opening her up … another second’s pause, then he grabbed her hips and shoved himself firmly all the way inside her. Katie gasped and screamed. For some reason she thought of Beth. It happened for me, babe, like you said. ‘Cause I’m fucking gorgeous, right? Mr Roberts began a steady, deep thrusting motion. He felt huge inside her, like she was way too small and had to stretch to receive him. She tried to mirror his rhythm, grinding back onto him, getting him impossibly deep inside her. She could just feel his balls brush her on the outside with each thrust. He pumped faster and harder. The sofa creaked. She let herself be taken by his strength. It felt like only the arm of the sofa was stopping her from somersaulting into an abyss. Katie reached underneath herself with one hand, found her cunt, felt where he was entering her, started rubbing her clit, pushed back hard on him, felt herself get to the point of no return … just as he pulled out of her and stood up.
As the orgasm hit her, Katie screamed, her body outraged. Suddenly he was gone and her cunt was pulsing around thin air. She felt utterly exposed. She bucked and thrashed on the sofa, tears of combined ecstasy and frustration in her eyes. She pushed fingers inside herself to give her vagina some semblance of what it needed. She felt the throbs and spasms die down, shivered, slowly got her breathing under control.
Mr Roberts was looking at her. He was naked, and massively erect. “You really do have remarkable sexual energy, Katie. Extraordinary. Sit on the edge of the sofa. You are going to make me come now. You have never sucked a cock before, am I right?”
“Never, sir.”
“Well I will be quite gentle with you. You have done well so far. Sit on the edge of the sofa.”
She did as she was told. He stood close in front of her, his erection emerging from between his athletic thighs level with her face. It seemed gigantic, very thick; Katie could not imagine getting into her mouth. “Open your mouth, Katie.” She did so, and waited.
He was indeed gentle. He guided his cock into her pretty little mouth, did not push too far, did not risk making her gag. She sucked cautiously. He held her head in his hands and took control, setting up a gentle back and forth motion. Katie felt his uncircumcised glans moving back and forth across her tongue. She could taste her own cunt juice on it, familiar from the many times she had licked her own fingers after wanking, and something else too. The taste of him. Clean but masculine. To steady herself she took the shaft of his cock in her small hands. It was smooth and unbelievably, inhumanly hard. He started to move more quickly although still gently. A new taste appeared, stronger and salty. She realised it must be pre-cum. Faster still, and a little deeper. She sucked a little harder. She felt a throb in her mouth, heard him catch his breath. He pulled away. His wet knob was right in front of her eyes for a split second. She closed her eyes instinctively and heard Mr Roberts groan softly as the first splash of his cum hit her on the right cheekbone, just below her eye. Then another two further down on her cheek, one on her chin, many more falling onto her thigh below her face. Rivulets of semen ran down her face like tears, dripped from her chin onto her breasts, flowed over her thigh onto the sofa. She opened her eyes. His cock looked somehow even grosser and more swollen as it started to subside. He picked up her panties from where she had left them on the floor and wiped himself clean with them. Then he calmly put his jeans and t shirt on. Katie sat still, stunned, spent.
“Come to the mirror, Katie.” He held out a hand, she took it gratefully as her legs nearly gave way on standing up. Slowly they walked to the hallway mirror together. He stood behind her and she looked at herself. Nipples still hard. Streams and gobbets of cum coagulating on her face and body. Pubic hair damp and matted with her own juices, her clit still swollen. She turned and looked over her shoulder. Buttocks ravaged with red marks. Yet again she heard Beth. “You are fucking gorgeous, girl, look at you.” Yes, Beth, look at me. Look at me. Her sperm-encrusted face was exhausted, elated, calm.
She heard the latch of the front door click. The door opened. “Dad!”