I moved my arm around his neck to hold on to something and stop me sliding to the floor. The pleasure was building up in my clit, threatening to burst out and cascade around my body.
My moans became louder as my hot breath puffed out against his skin. I was right on the border of deafening him with the most potent orgasm of my life when he pulled his hand away.
“Please-”
He cut off my protest by slipping three fingers into my mouth, making me taste my own juices that his stimulation had brought forth. At first I pulled away, but his hand followed and he made me suck his fingers clean.
“Shhh, Zoey. Now isn’t the time for you to ask for anything. Now is the time for you to do what you’re told like a good little slut. Now get back on your knees.”
He pushed me down until I left his lap and was kneeling between his legs. There was only one thing he could be wanting with me here.
“Take my cock out and suck it like your life depended on it.”
My hands moved of their own accord, reaching for his zip as they had done so many times in my dreams and fantasies. I pulled it down and reached inside his pants, feeling first the heat of his body and then the bulge of his cock through his boxers.
I opened my mouth so I could bring in enough air to get the oxygen I suddenly needed. My heart was beating hard enough that I could hear it in every inhale and exhale.
Carefully, as if I was handling a priceless artifact, I pulled his cock out through the gap at the front of his boxers. I stared at it in wonder, feeling the weight in my hand.
I brought my other hand up to support it as it hardened before my very eyes. Joseph watched my every move, and I basked in his rapt attention.
Looking up at him, our eyes locked, and I licked my lips before leaning forward to touch the tip of his cock with my tongue. Joseph’s eyes narrowed a little and then slowly closed as I took the head of his manhood into my mouth.
I grasped his shaft with two hands and there was still more than enough left over the top of my grip that I couldn’t fit it all into my mouth. It was bigger than my friends had described their boyfriends, it was bigger than what I’d seen on the internet. It was downright incredible.
The flavor of him filled my world as surely as his cock filled my mouth. I bobbed my head like I thought I was supposed to, and swirled my tongue around his girth purely for the pleasure of exploring him, learning every throbbing bump and curve of the cock that I’d heard pounding my mother into submission so many times.
My pussy was screaming for attention, so I clamped my thighs together and released over and over as I bobbed and sucked. Even with this minimal stimulation I felt the welcome return of an orgasm building up.
Joesph looked down on me with narrowed eyes, a shine of hunger peeking through his eyelids, and began to gently meet my downward movements with shallow thrusts of his hips that pushed his cock a little deeper into my mouth. His speed slowly increased and then he grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my head to control the timing of my bobbing motions.
With my movements now under his power, he started thrusting even harder. I released his cock with my hands and braced myself on his thighs as his thick shaft pistonned in and out of my mouth.
I gagged and tried to push away when the tip of his cock struck the back of my throat, but Joseph only held my hair painfully tight and kept me in place until I stopped struggling. My eyes watered but the urge to gag receded until I could calmly look up at him while he fucked my face and the tears dried on my cheeks.
“Oh fuck yes,” he breathed when he suddenly pulled my mouth off his cock. “Time to take what’s mine.”
Joseph stood and pulled me up by my hair before roughly spinning me around and pushing me so I was bent over his desk. My skirt was already closer to the small of my back than it was to my legs, and I could just imagine the way my panties were plastered to every fold of my pussy, maybe he’d even made me wet enough for them to be see-through by now.
Whether that was true or not soon became irrelevant as he pulled them down to my mid-thighs with one hand, never letting go of his grip in my hair that kept me forced down on the desk. I felt the cool air on my pussy and a shiver of apprehension thrummed through my body.
“Please… be gentle?” I asked.
“No chance. I’m going to fuck you like the slut you want to be.”
“But… but I’m a virgin!”
“I know. Even better. I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
Joseph planted his feet just outside my own and I felt the heat of him all along the back of my legs. He was holding me down almost as forcefully as he might have held down an evicted nightclub patron back in his bouncing days when I felt the tip of his cock touching my ass cheek and slowly moving towards my virginal entrance.
I gasped when his cock touched my sensitive petals. The head nestled between my folds, touched my clit and then slid back up to find my tight slit.
Lubricated by my saliva and his pre-cum, his cock pushed my labia aside as he put pressure on my virgin entrance. My pussy quickly formed a tight ring around this masculine invader and I started to squirm as the pain threatened to overwhelm me.
Joseph maintained control, keeping my untouched pussy where he wanted via his grip in my hair and the weight of his body over me. The pressure grew and grew until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
“Ow! Ow! I can’t take it!”
“Say ‘I can’t take it ,Daddy’,” Joseph growled.
“I can’t take it, Daddy!” I yelped.
“Again!”
“I can’t take it, Daddy!”
I groaned in relief when the head of his cock slipped inside me and nuzzled against my hymen, relieving a little of the pressure on my tight opening. My step-father’s cock was officially inside of me.
“You want me to stop, Princess?” he asked, not yet making any move to let me up.
I bit my bottom lip. My pussy was still stretched to its limits, but now that I was past that initial strain, it was a little easier to take, I could even feel the faint hum of my promised orgasm rumbling beneath the surface. If I told him to stop… would he? Then would he never start again? How many chances do you get in your life to get the one man you lust after above all others? I couldn’t risk it.
“N-no… just- uhn!”
Permission granted, Joseph didn’t wait to hear my renewed plea to be gentle and cut me off by thrusting the full length of his hard rod through my hymen and into my depths. I squealed and squirmed against his desk, impaled on more cock than I would have dreamed could fit inside me.
“Good girl, you’re so fucking tight.”
Joseph began sawing his huge cock in and out of my newly deflowered pussy, making sounds of pure guttural satisfaction while I whimpered, moaned and yelped under him. I felt like a mote of dust in the hurricane that was his sexual power.
He was taking me, claiming my virginity, using my body for his own pleasure, and I was being blown around at his whim. I was being bombarded by sensations beyond what I’d dreamed possible, baffled by how much power he mustered up into every thrust and the way the pain started to blend with pleasure until I didn’t know which was which.
No wonder my mom made those sounds! Come to think of it, when I could force my consciousness through the delirium of everything happening to me, I could hear myself making those sounds right here.
I reached forward and curled my fingers around the edge of his desk and held on for dear life, as his thrusts made my voice warble with every impact of our bodies. My orgasm, held at bay by my nerves, my self-consciousness and a healthy dose of pain quickly grew to bursting point.
Joseph tugged on my hair, pulling my head back until I was looking at the wall in front of me near the ceiling. My scalp burned with the strength of his grip and melded with the fire he was stoking between my legs just as it exploded.
My eyes rolled back into my head as pure ecstasy took me on a trip to heaven. Every nerve in my body hummed hard enough that I th
ought I might fly apart at any moment, a victim of death by orgasm.
Inside me, Joseph’s cock swelled and he held it as deep as it could possibly go for a moment before his hot semen blasted my unprotected depths. His creamy gold drenched my cervix with the first spurt.
He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed his length home again in time for the second spurt to add to the hot mess of the first. From what seemed like a great distance, I felt his rhythm become sporadic as every thrust was punctuated with a jet of sperm in my teen pussy.
When my eyes were able to focus on something other than the inside of my skull again, I felt dizzy, warm and tingly all at once. All I wanted was for him to climb up on his desk with me and cover me like a wonderful living blanket, his hard cock still inside of me, and drift away to sleep for a little bit.
Instead, he leaned down and rolled me over, picking up one of my legs so it swung across in front of him. Miraculously, he managed to do this without taking his hard length out of me and then leaned down to kiss me again.
Slower, deeper, with less urgency now, he made me feel like a princess being worshipped. His hands moved to the small of my back and he lifted me off his desk. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me out of his office and towards his bedroom.
“I could fuck you all day,” he said, “and then we can have that little talk about your vacation with your friends.”
“Well… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I just went with you?” I asked.
He smirked. “Maybe it wouldn’t.”
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Daddy’s Virgin Stripper
Description
Yolanda desperately needs some cash to pay for her schooling on the other side of the country before she caves into her taboo desires and ruins her mother’s marriage before it’s even started.
The quickest road to the sum she needed was to put her lifetime of ballet and dance to good use and strip for the money.
Unfortunately, her very first job has landed her right in the lap (literally) of the one man she was trying desperately to avoid. It’s his stag night, and he’s been given permission to do anything…
Kinks/Sub-Genres
Pseudo-Incest, Daddy, Daugther, Rough Sex, Breeding, Barely Legal/Virgin
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*****
A ballet scholarship only went so far, and at eighteen I was already an old lady as far as my gymnastics career went. A few years back, I missed out on the national team, missed out on my chance for those sweet sponsorship dollars if I won a medal, so my countless hours on the mats, beams and bars weren’t going to help me anymore.
It wasn’t that we were poor, far from it, it was just that I needed to get away from home. The combination of school and dance school on the west coast was the furthest I could get. Even though the schooling near home was arguably of similar quality, the west coast was almost triple the cost, because “west coast!”
That’s where I lost the support, financial and otherwise, of my mom. I was an only child and I was sure she was arguing the case for the local schools with an empty-nest-syndrome motivation.
Of course, she didn’t know my reasoning for wanting to get away, and I couldn’t possibly tell her. She didn’t know that I was doing it for her, so she could have love and happiness in her life like she deserved, without me ruining it.
Eleven years ago, I noticed a big change in my mom. I now knew that life had been slowly but surely crushing her spirit under its bootheel, but overnight she became the person I remembered from when I was really little.
All of a sudden she was somebody I could be silly with again, somebody who danced with me, somebody full of this… energy that made me feel like butterflies were dancing with us in my stomach. About a year after that, I was introduced to her “friend” Justin, whom she had apparently met a “while” ago and was a very “special” friend to her.
It was weird at first, and not entirely in a good way. Suddenly, there was this… masculine presence in the house sometimes that took my mom’s attention away from me. Sometimes I had a babysitter when she went out on dates.
I wasn’t used to any of it, having never met my dad, but it didn’t take long before Justin won me over too. He owned his own residential construction company, and one weekend he built me the most incredible playhouse in the back yard with a small army of workers.
It felt like it was built to a higher standard than the old house we lived in, and I had many a tea party in there with my friends. As far as I could tell, Justin could build anything and fix anything and it became one of my favorite things to do simply to watch him work with his hands.
When my mom sold the old house, I had to say goodbye to the only home I’d ever known, and to my playhouse. Thankfully, moving in with Justin did mean I had even more time to watch him work on all the projects he turned his hands to in his garage.
Fast forward many years, all my friends were going boy-crazy, but I kept turning down everybody who asked me out. My girlfriends thought I was nuts, but when I looked at the boys in my school, I never felt that… excitement that they talked about.
It wasn’t until one day while I was in the garage and supposed to be doing some homework that I realized I had a pen in my mouth and I was circling the tip of it with my tongue while I watched Justin work on an old V8 engine. I dropped my pen with a quiet clatter on my book and averted my eyes downwards as I worked my way backwards through the train of thought that had been bubbling away under the surface. It involved him leaving greasy handprints on my inner thighs and giving me the most mind-bending pleasure you could imagine after calling me a good girl for worshipping his cock like that…
Well, there was the excitement my friends described. I packed up my stuff in a rush, said “I’m going to finish my homework in my room, Daddy,” and tried to forget that it ever happened.
It should have stopped there. My life would have been so much easier if it had stopped there. Only it didn’t. It got worse, it got to a point where I could barely think straight when he was around. For want of a better word… he made me hot.
I trembled when he was around, I inhaled his cologne with those undertones of pure hard-working sex-god man underneath, I held on to hugs longer than was strictly acceptable. Sometimes when we were sitting at a table, I had to hold on to my chair to stop myself leaping across at him and sending our dinner flying in every direction.
Those hands of his. From the first time I saw him work, it was like he was performing real-life magic. I wanted him to work that magic on me. I heard the way the magic worked on my mom at night, and it drove me crazy wondering exactly how pleasure like that must feel.
When I touched myself, nothing felt as good as when I thought about him, and yet I never made the kind of sounds my mom made. Maybe it was the guilt holding me back a bit, or maybe he was simply that good with his hands.
Now that he had proposed and my mom had said yes, I knew I had to put my own selfish needs aside. I had to let them have their life without a stupid, horny, love-struck teenager throwing a bomb in the middle of it all.
The only way I could think
of to do it was to get away. Far away. And hence, my west coast schooling idea. But, to pull it off, I had to either explain to the two of them why they needed to pay all that extra money for it, or I had to get a lot of money to supplement my meagre scholarship, and quick.
Well, there was no fucking way in hell I was going to describe to my mom that her man made me wetter than water, so I needed a job that paid as well as one of those banking CEOs that led the world into a recession. I was sure that if I was in charge of a bank, I could be responsible for a disaster too, but they weren’t looking to hire any inexperienced and unqualified teens.
The one job I spotted that made little cartoon dollar-signs appear in my eyes was also a terrifying prospect. A local company was advertising for strippers, strip-o-grams, topless waitresses for stag nights, that kind of thing.
When I first contacted them for more information, part of me was hoping that the pay was low enough that I couldn’t even consider it. Unfortunately for that part, the money they offered was nothing short of eye-watering, depending on “what services you were willing to offer.”
At those prices, they were one of the country’s most prestigious organizations for this kind of business, and they only interviewed exceptional young ladies. Then they only accepted the crème de la crème of those.
I sent my photo and a short description off, knowing for sure I’d never get an interview. I got an interview.
I went to the interview, knowing it wouldn’t get any further than that. It went further than that.
Everything happened so fast. I brought home a bunch of paperwork and read it somewhere around a million times. Finally, while furiously concentrating on the words in front of me as my step-dad shook the whole house and my mom screamed affirmatives from their room, I signed on the dotted line.
Take All of It September 2019 Page 194
