With the way my body had been behaving lately, particularly between my legs, I made sure to take on plenty of fluids at breakfast. If all went according to plan, I’d be thankful for every bit of hydration.
The outfit had been picked out for days already. I’d found a little pleated skirt that had been on the short side four years previous and was now positively scandalous. An experiment as to whether I still fit it had resulted in a nice little stroke to my ego.
A tight white shirt accentuated my slim shape and perky braless breasts. I turned from side to side in the mirror, trying to gauge as to whether my nipples could be seen through the material and decided they couldn’t. Considering the skirt, I thought a sheer top would be too much, this was definitely an area of my wardrobe where less was more.
Still, it was a tight shirt, and my large tits pulled the front up a bit, baring a tantalising strip of midriff above my skirt. Black knee-socks complemented the skirt and the whole ensemble was topped off by the most pristine virginal white panties any schoolgirl ever protected her modesty with. Normally panties wouldn’t be on display, but with this skirt I wanted every flash to be as eye-catching as possible.
While I was brushing my hair I heard the sound that made my heart leap. A car in the driveway. Sure enough, it halted in front of the house and I heard my step-father get out before it drove away.
Shortly afterwards the front door opened and I heard Jarrod go straight to my parents’ room for a moment, dropping off his bags. He didn’t call out to me, he wouldn’t have expected me to be awake at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. Instead I heard him head straight out the back door, no doubt heading towards the stables.
I let out a huge breath of air that I hadn’t even realised I was holding. Listening to him had frozen me in place with the brush halfway through a stroke, but now it was time. No guts no glory. Or sex.
I stood and headed for my door before rushing back to apply my lip gloss. It was so pretty!
When I put my shoes on and exited the back door, I could already see the stables were indeed open. In my dreams I had been practically skipping to meet Jarrod, but now that I was finally putting my plan into action in reality, I realised I was quivering with anxiety.
With every slow breath I took, I could hear my heartbeat making it waver. It couldn’t have been beating any harder if I was in the middle of the forest by myself at night with scary noises all around rather than in the bright morning sunshine.
Halfway to the stables I looked down and saw that my nipples were diamond-hard and poking against the front of my shirt as if saying ‘Hey, Imogen, walk that way’. I began to have serious doubts about the whole thing.
He’d never go for me, I thought. Not only was I his step-daughter, but he probably still thought of me as just a little girl, a naïve and inexperienced version of my mother, whom he was already fucking, so why bother with me?
At the same time, I was so… excited. The fear of what might happen was making me hornier than ever. Every brush of clothes against my silky smooth body was like the caress of countless hands not asking for permission to have their way with me. Every step I took, wavering or not, reminded me of how wet my pussy was, I thought I could already sense the cool air against the wet crotch of my panties.
I’d wished for this day for longer than I cared to admit and I’d positively ached for it since I hatched my plan. I had to go through with it, I had to try or I’d always wonder what might have happened. With a gulp, I forced myself into the stable and saw him standing outside President Booya’s stall, his prized racehorse.
“M-morning Daddy,” I did my best to conceal the nerves and excitement in my voice, but couldn’t quite manage to avoid a small stammer.
Jarrod looked over at me, I saw his eyes dart down, and then down further before coming back up to my face. I fought an internal battle between wanting to cross my arms over myself for modesty and wanting to innocently clasp my hands behind my back and push my chest out.
It was a war of nerves versus my desperate need for sexual relief, and one that waged long enough to end in a stalemate. My hands twitched at my sides a little and hadn’t really gone anywhere by the time Jarrod was looking at my face again.
“Hey Imogen. New skirt?” he asked
“This old thing?” I said, looking down. “Nah. Had it for years.”
“Well, I can believe that. What are you doing up so early, anyway?” Jarrod turned back to President Booya, rubbing the horse’s nose.
“I’ve got lots of study to do. Exams coming up… you know.”
I tentatively walked closer until my chest was tantalisingly close to touching his arm. My nipples were so hard they were practically tingling against my shirt, there was no way he couldn’t notice them. If he moved just an inch, just brushed against those hyper-sensitive pink tips, I thought I might cum right on the spot.
“Plus,” I continued, “I missed you. I have some time before I need to start for the day so I thought I’d come out and see if there was anything I could do for you. You know. Anything?”
“Like with the horse?”
I shrugged and bit my lower lip as coyly as possible. Jarrod’s eyebrow raised and he pointed to the far end of the stable.
“Break up that bale of straw and bring it over here in the wheelbarrow, we’ll put a bit more in PB’s stall.”
I leaned to the side to look where he was pointing and saw what he was talking about. My heart sank a little. I hadn’t come out here for manual labour, but Jarrod seemed to be taking even less of a hint about what I wanted than any of the boys I’d been on dates with.
My nerves weren’t helping, I knew I wasn’t exactly bringing my ‘A’ game yet, but I had a few hours to work whatever magic I had, so I smiled my prettiest smile and gave him a hug, feeling his muscular arm push at the taut material between my breasts and make them give a little hug of their own around his bicep, before walking over to the straw bale.
When I reached the straw bale, I realised this was another opportunity to lay out some more bait. As I bent over at the waist to struggle with the baling twine that bound the straw, I felt the back of my skirt rise up and knew my bright white flag of sexual surrender was being waved.
Jarrod still didn’t say anything, and I was briefly distracted by the difficulty of getting the twine off. It took a little while, but when I grabbed my first armful of straw to put in the wheelbarrow and stood up, I was startled by how close behind me Jarrod was. When I was bent over, the front of his pants must have been bare inches from my ass.
I gasped and felt my heart beating so hard that I thought it might be shaking my braless breasts. That wonderful scent of his, no doubt freshened up by a stop in the executive airport lounge before coming home, wafted around me, combining with the smell of the straw in my arms and my next breath turned into a deep inhale through my nose.
With a swallow I let the straw drop into the wheelbarrow, all strength seeming to flow out of my arms with the thought of Jarrod maybe doing to me the kinds of things I’d heard him do to my mother. He was so close. So close.
Slowly and delicately, Jarrod reached towards me and I stood transfixed, looking up at him with my pale green eyes no doubt reflecting the churning thunderstorm of tension inside me. He was so hot it was ridiculous and he was reaching… reaching…
My chest puffed out with another deep breath, feeling certain he was about to grab my breast. Instead, he picked a piece of straw out of my long blonde hair, and then some more.
“You know, Imogen, when a girl walks into my office, or waits outside my hotel, dressed like this, she usually has one thing on her mind.”
“W-what’s that, Daddy?” I asked.
Jarrod leaned in. “Usually, she begs to be my little fucktoy.”
“W-why are you s-saying that to me?”
My nerves were running rampant, I’d developed a nearly full-on stutter by this point and my nipples were rubbing against my shirt with every heaving breath I took. And he was right the
re, it was almost like I was playing with my tits while I pictured him in my mind, only so much better.
Jarrod ignored my question, instead posing another of his own. “You know what I tell them?”
“W-what?”
“I tell them to go home, stay in school, find somebody their own age. You know why?”
“B-because you’re a g-good man?”
Jarrod smirked. “No. It’s because they’re not good enough to trouble myself with. What’s the point of fucking some girl who is probably dripping with cum from every guy she met on the way to meeting me?”
“D-daddy… why are you t-talking like this?”
Again, Jarrod ignored my question with another of his own. “What’s the point if she isn’t the best of the best, built to be fucked hard?” His fingers curled around the back of my neck, pulling me towards him a little and holding me in place. “Like you,” he finished.
A surge of pride filled me up and ever so briefly lifted the corners of my mouth in a tentative smile at the comparison between me and the girls that were always knocking on his door. The idea that he thought I was built for hard sex was one of many things I’d been wanting to hear from boys. To finally have those words in my ears rather than my mind was probably what most girls would feel like if Prince Charming declared his undying love to them.
Things had just taken a turn for the exciting, but I’d never felt more anxious in all my life. Jarrod was still my step-father, and I knew that was wrong. The problem was, everything I wanted was wrong, but that’s just who I was. I’d tried to get the wrong things from the right places, and it didn’t work, so now I had to try to get the wrong things from the wrong places.
I forced the tiny smile off my face, hoping he hadn’t noticed, and grabbed at his forearm. “Daddy, you’re scaring me.”
“Well, I’ve just got home from a long trip and I’m ready to fuck. You’re mother isn’t here, so I guess it’s time you learned how to earn your keep around my house. What do you think about that?”
“What? No!”
I struggled a little, trying to remove his hand from the back of my neck, secretly proud of my act. He was even stronger than I thought, fighting against him was like fighting against a solid granite statue and I couldn’t escape his grip at all, especially when it tightened to the point of hurting.
I felt a spark of pleasure between my legs that made me twitch at the thought that I might have just received my first bruise, but I didn’t have much time to wallow in the glow before he was bending down to kiss me. I pushed against his chest, as well-sculpted as the granite statue I had just thought of, but felt my arms go weak again when our lips crashed together and he worked his jaws, forcing my mouth open to accept his tongue.
The few boys who had not asked me for my consent to kiss had still done it so tenderly, as if they were trying to be Casanova or something. Not so with Jarrod, my step-father kissed hard, deeper than I thought anybody could kiss. I thought he might leave me so breathless that I’d pass out.
Our lips parted with a wet sound at the same time as he brought his spare hand to my breast and grabbed it, squeezing and lifting, kneading it through my shirt. I was able to push that hand away, but the memory of his touch remained. My step-father’s hand was on my tit, oh my God!
“Daddy! You can’t do this!”
Smack!
The hand that I had pushed away flew through the air and struck me on the cheek with an open-palmed strike that made my head shoot to the side. Another spark of pleasure between my legs made me gasp as much as the shock of being really slapped for the first time.
“You don’t tell me what to do, Imogen. I own this fucking city and everything in it, including you. If I say ‘fuck’ then you say ‘anything you want, Daddy’, understand?”
It was everything I’d ever dreamed of. At last! A real man was here to knock over the pedestal and put me in my place for a while. Jarrod had a look in his eye that implied he never took ‘no’ for an answer.
“No!” I yelled.
Smack!
Jarrod slapped me in exactly the same place on my cheek, rocking my head to the side again. I closed my eyes and let out a moan that might have been mistaken for despair, but really was a result of the flash of ecstasy between my legs that grew and grew, almost to the point of an orgasm without anybody having laid a finger on my pussy yet.
I clamped my mouth shut and breathed quickly, unsure what would happen if I just climaxed right there. That would be the end of the pretence at the very least. I knew how hot the idea of being taken by force always made me, but even I wasn’t ready for how good I already felt.
“You’re gonna fuck your daddy.” Jarrod hissed at me. It wasn’t a question.
He suddenly let go of my neck and his hands moved to my ass, lifting me off the ground and against him before I even knew what was going on. My legs flew apart, trying to keep my balance and all at once I had the man who had raised me between my knees.
I yelled for help that I knew was nowhere on our vast property and kicked at nothing, pushing against him with all my strength, confident that I was easily outmatched. Jarrod barely acknowledged my struggles, slipping one hand under my skirt and holding my weight via a firm hold on my upper thigh, his fingers perilously close to the soaked crotch of my panties.
Could he feel how hot I was for him? How wet? For a moment there was no way of knowing, but then I felt how slippery his fingertips were on my skin and I knew that my arousal was betraying me.
Jarrod carried me to an empty stall and suddenly I was flying through the air. I landed on a pile of hay that wasn’t quite soft enough to stop the wind getting knocked out of me, and banged the back of my head on the wooden wall, which was mercifully springy.
From my position on the floor I watched Jarrod step in after me and close the door to the stall as I gasped for air. I sat up straight and pushed myself to the corner with my heels, never standing up but trying to make it look like I was attempting to get as far from him as possible.
“I can’t wait to get my cock in you, Imogen. You’ve got no idea the kind of sounds you’re going to make, but I’m not going to stop until I’m good and finished,” he said.
My legs quivered as he pulled something off a hook or nail on the wall. My brow furrowed when I saw it was a thin leather strap of some kind, perhaps something that was part of the riding gear.
“Turn over and put your hands behind your back,” Jarrod said.
“No!”
My step-father swooped down and grabbed my ankles, pulling me away from the wall and making me fall backwards to lay flat. He was on top of me in a flash and soon had his hand on my throat.
That, combined with his weight on top of me, made it seriously difficult to breathe and I wheezed with my hands on his wrist, trying to get some relief as he asserted his control over the situation. In that moment he made it clear that not only was my pleasure and pain in his power, but my very life too.
His supreme authority was the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced, and I could feel my legs shaking with lust and excitement behind him. Between those quivering thighs, my pussy was aching to be satisfied and I was doing my best to hold my orgasm back until it was filled with the cock of a man who truly took no prisoners in getting there.
“You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ learning to do, little girl,” said Jarrod.
After one especially hard squeeze and a little shake, he let go and grabbed my upper arms, rising up on his knees to take his weight off me as he roughly forced me to turn over and then sat back down. My skirt was riding up and I could feel a hard bulge pressing against my panties right between my ass cheeks and I had to clench my teeth and think about the nine-times-table to stop myself from cumming under him as he crossed my wrists behind my back.
I felt that leather strap coiled around and round, holding my hands at the small of my back. Once he was satisfied, he stood and yanked me backwards on to my knees by that restraint before circling around in front of
me.
“That’s more like it,” said Jarrod. “Look at you now. Imogen, the precious little princess, on her knees about to suck some cock.”
“Please don’t do this, Daddy,” I said, pretending to be unable to look him in the eye, but really just wanting to see for myself that bulge at the front of his pants.
“There’s no way out, princess,” he said.
“I-if I s... you know, do a good job, will you let me go? Without… you know?”
“If you’re the best cocksucker I’ve ever had, then yes,” said Jarrod, unzipping his pants.
I put on a show of relief that was no act. I wanted that hard cock in my mouth, I wanted to slobber all over it and have him fuck my face like a slut. I’d never done it before, but I knew from the internet that oral sex could be as fast and furious as anything else if you wanted it to be, and now I had an excuse to worship his cock the way I had in my dreams.
My eyes darted between Jarrod’s face and the front of his pants as he worked the button and zip before pushing them down, followed immediately afterwards by his boxers. That was my first moment of real fear.
My step-father’s cock was enormous, bigger than the ones I’d seen online by a country mile. I tore my eyes away from it and looked up at his face again, leaving myself with no doubt that he had noted my fear and it turned him on.
Jarrod took his cock in one hand and a fistful of hair in the other, holding it so tight that it made me yelp in pain for a second, and brought the tip of his manhood to my lips. It was at that moment I realised the real difference between fantasy and reality.
The women on the videos had made it all look so easy but, no matter how much I had thought about it before, I really had no idea what to do with a hard dick, let alone one as truly massive as this one. Like a deer in the headlights I stared blankly as he ribbed the tip all over my glossy pink lips and pressed against my teeth, contorting my features as it slid to the side and pulled my mouth in the same direction.
Take All of It September 2019 Page 166
