“Nothing, baby,” I said soothingly, adjusting my crotch ever so slightly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“You know Daddy,” she said, sidling closer to my desk. “I want you to be happy, and if I can help, just let me know,” she said, giving me a meaningful look.
My breath caught. Was I getting the wrong vibe? Something told me that my little girl was coming onto me with the seductive look in her eyes, those creamy, pale thighs displayed under her skirt.
“Honey,” I said smoothly. “Your mom and I … We have some things to work out, but you don’t need to worry about a thing.”
“But Daddy, I want you to be happy,” she replied, “and I’m not sure that you are,” she said coyly, nodding towards my crotch. “Daddy,” she added breathily, “doesn’t it hurt down there? Don’t you need someone to help you relax?”
I was so still that I barely breathed. Was my stepdaughter actually referring to my crotch? This was so fucking wrong. But Cleo took it one step further.
“Do you want me to suck you, Daddy?” she said, her face serious, her hand reaching over to trace my throbbing length. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind, the girls at school talk about it all the time. Wouldn’t it make you feel good?”
I almost choked. Holy shit, my little girl was offering me a blow job. I knew I had to say no, it was wrong on a million levels, but I found her so refreshing, her straightforward, innocent ways a welcome relief from the deviousness of adult women.
“Honey,” I said gently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re legally related, even if not by blood.”
“But Daddy,” she said innocently, running her hand up and down my crotch again. “Look how big your dong is. Isn’t it painful? Wouldn’t it help if I gave you some relief?”
And by god, my penis had gone from semi-hard to diamond-hard in a second, the minute my girl started talking about sex. It was rigid like plywood, punching out uncomfortably against my trousers.
I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable, adjusting myself discreetly.
“Baby, it would help but it’s wrong, do you understand?” I said gently. “Your mom’s just down the hall. It’s not right to do this.”
“But Daddy,” said Cleo. “Mommy doesn’t want you … and I do.”
And I lost it. My little girl wanted to suck me, wanted me to push my dick into her pouty teen mouth, and I couldn’t resist anymore. I was too sex-deprived, too horny, too desperate. “Baby, come and sit on Daddy’s knee and tell me more,” I said silkily, gesturing for her to come closer. “When did you start to notice Daddy?”
She came like a willing cumslut, positioning herself on my thigh, straddling me, her tiny skirt riding up so that she was basically humping my leg with her pussy. Her clit was so big, so hot and hard, that I could feel it through the thin cotton of her panties, pressing against my leg, a tiny rock of stimulation.
“Daddy, I’ve always noticed you,” she cooed into my ear, her breath moist and warm on my neck. “You just didn’t see me.”
I guess that was true. Just a year ago she’d been gangly and awkward, invisible. But now my little step was a firecracker.
“Baby,” I said slowly. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” I asked as I slowly stroked her back.
She moaned and arched, throwing her head back, almost purring against my hand, stretching luxuriously, sinuously.
“Of course Daddy,” she said, her green eyes seductive and glinting, doing a little roll of her hips on my thigh. I fucking couldn’t breathe for a moment. Her pussy had gushed, and I felt a spurt of wetness through her panties, drenching my leg through my trousers, her hot box leaking gallons.
“But Daddy,” she said seriously, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m a virgin and you’re going to be my first.”
Oh fuck. Oh my god. So my little step’s delicious teen twat had never been violated and she was asking me to be her first dick? Oh god.
“Baby,” I said again, this time, letting my hand skim down to her waist, tracing over a luscious, juicy buttock. “Do you know what happens between a man and a woman?”
“Of course Daddy!” she laughed. “You put your penis in my vagina and we make a baby!”
Holy shit, I’d completely forgotten about protection.
“That’s right, honey,” I rumbled, my hands growing bolder, tracing her curves, one big hand running up her thigh to the hem of the plaid skirt. “Are you ready to be a mommy?”
She looked at my shyly, batting her lashes. “With you, I am,” she breathed.
And that fucking broke all of my barriers. I ravaged her mouth with mine, gripping her hair as I tilted her forward, driving my tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness. She was hot and wet in her tiny cavity, her tongue questing to meet mine, not at all shy as she pressed herself closer to me in my lap.
“Oh Daddy!” she sighed, her breath like warm butterflies skimming my skin.
I let my hands roam her body uncontrolled. Her breasts were large and pendulous, overflowing my palms, and slowly, oh so slowly, I untied the knot between her tits, letting the material swing free, her creamy mounds on display. The little girl hadn’t worn a bra, and her nips pointed straight at me, deep pink, stiff and aching to be touched.
Without hesitation, I bent my head to taste her. She mewled at the sensation, my warm tongue tracing the creamy flesh before focusing on her areola, skimming the pink with my mouth, leaving traces of saliva on her flesh. I drew a nipple into my mouth, savoring its rubbery yet stiff feel. It hardened like a bullet as I suckled vigorously, moaning into her skin, burying my face against that porcelain softness.
“Daddy!” she shrieked, her cunt gushing again. Oh fuck, the little girl’s pussy was so wet it’d soaked through both her panties and my trouser leg. Shit, I had to feel it.
I reached a hand under her skirt and lightly traced my fingers against her mound. The heat was scorching. There were waves of moisture coming off her twat, sensual and wet. I pressed my fingers firmly to her mound and she squealed again, grinding against my hand, rotating her hips, desperately trying to get near me.
“Please Daddy,” she panted. “More … please!”
But something made me hesitate for a moment. Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes, despite the fact that she was draped all over me, her snatch rubbing against my hand like it was a gift from heaven. Maybe it was my conscience, who knows. Funny time to grow a conscience, it’s never bothered me before.
So slowly, reluctantly, I pulled away.
“Cleo, this can’t happen,” I said gently, removing my hand slowly from her wetness. The shock in her eyes was vivid, those deep green irises still dilated from want and need. I stroked her haunches as a consolation prize, letting myself savor that smooth, sweet skin, perfume drifting off that silky golden expanse. Heat emanated from her still, driving me crazy, my senses on fire.
“But why?” she asked, panting slightly. Her breasts heaved and I almost lost it again, those creamy tits waving in front of my face, so close that I could easily turn the tide, grab one in my mouth and suckle, keep the fire going.
But I knew I had to stop. She was so nubile and so curvy … and so fucking young.
“You know why,” I ground out, slowly shifting her off my lap. The little girl wobbled on her legs, like a newborn colt.
“Because you’re married to my mom?” she asked softly. “I know you don’t love Lorena.”
I gave out a short bark of laughter at that.
“I’ve never loved Lorena,” I replied tightly, the look on my face grim, “and she’s never loved me. You know that Cleo. You know that with me and your mom, it was always a marriage of convenience.”
And the girl straightened a little, re-tying her top, hiding those tits from view, pulling her skirt down again.
“I just wanted to be sure, Daddy,” she said slowly, “because Lorena told me that you were trying for kids. But she’s in her forties and it’s probably not going to happen. You know that she’s tried bef
ore, right? Tried to have more kids but it fell flat?”
I just shook my head. The last thing I wanted with my wife was a child. Heck, I’d never want a baby with a woman who I used for sex, what kind of environment would that be for a child? So I just shook my head.
“Naw, it’s never bothered me that Lorena couldn’t conceive, I never even asked about it,” I rumbled, shaking my head. Why would Lorena tell Cleo that we were trying for kids? Odd. “In fact, I just assumed that your mom was past the age, no longer fertile. But what do you mean, she’s tried it before? She tried to give you a baby sister or brother at one point?”
And here, Cleo sighed.
“Daddy, we were poor before we met you,” she said slowly. “I mean, not living out of our car or anything, but my biological father was never in the picture. And I don’t mean he ditched us. He was a one night stand for Lorena, a shot in the dark, so she didn’t even know how to contact him.”
Surprise, surprise. Sounded just like my wife, so I nodded.
“Well, it meant my mom had to raise me on her own and she wasn’t really into it. She was young when she had me, with a wild streak still, and I kept her from going out and partying. So Lorena started trying to get paid by guys,” said Cleo, shrugging her shoulders.
“What do you mean?” I asked curiously. I’d had my wife checked out before I married her, and as far as I knew, her past was legit. She hadn’t committed any crimes, was here in the country legally, and had been working for the housekeeping service for eight years. That was a good record of employment, you had to show up on time and do your stuff if you’ve been with the same employer for that long.
But Cleo read my mind. She nodded.
“Daddy, you’re not the first man that Lorena’s met cleaning houses,” she said softly. “Only rich people can afford Greener Living, so we were always being sent to estates around Long Island, cleaning 10,000 square foot mansions with pool houses and guest cottages. We’d be on site for days sometimes, these places were so big.”
I frowned for a second.
“You were cleaning as well?” I growled. “What about school? You were too young to be working full-time.”
And here, the girl shook her head again slowly.
“I was,” she agreed. “But Mom couldn’t afford babysitting, so she’d take me with her on jobs. I’d usually sit in the van and wait while she and the rest of the crew cleaned. It wasn’t fun because they use a lot of harsh chemicals and sitting in the van, the fumes would sting my eyes, my nose, make it hard to breathe. So actually, I wanted to help them,” she confessed. “That way, I could get some air.”
And I frowned again. This Cinderella background was even harsher than I imagined. I mean, yeah, I knew Lorena and Cleo came from a blue-collar past but I never imagined it was like this.
Still, Cleo shrugged.
“When I got old enough to look like a legit employee, I started cleaning with the crew, going into the mansions. It was amazing,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It was only then that I realized how much some people have, and how little we had.”
Well, that was easy to fix.
“But you have everything you need now, right?” I growled. “Because I’ve been giving Lorena money for you, a lot of it.”
“Oh I know,” smiled the redhead. “Thank you so much, I totally appreciate it. And I wanted to thank you personally tonight,” she said, a bit of a sassy gleam coming back into her eyes, shifting slightly on the ottoman. My mouth immediately started watering again, imagining that juicy butt bumping up and down on my cock, humping my pole. But I hadn’t gotten answers yet.
“But why do you say Lorena’s done this before?” I ground out, forcing myself to ignore my burgeoning erection. “How do you know she’s tried for a second kid?”
And here Cleo cocked her head at me.
“Because you’re not the first rich man she’s seduced, haven’t you realized that Daddy? Mom’s always wanted to live a lavish lifestyle. She’s tried to hook up with quite a few of the guys we cleaned house for,” she finished.
Fuck me. That took some fucking moxie.
“Who was she fucking?” I asked, although it really didn’t matter. I was curious more than anything else.
“Well, there was Mr. Jennings over on North Shore, and Mr. Dykstra over in Manhasset,” she said slowly. “And there were probably ten others, I can’t remember their names now. Oh wait, and Evan Musk in Manhattan. I remember him because he was the only one we went into the City for,” she added.
Shit, that was a lot of dudes.
“But this took place over a long time right?” I growled, morbidly curious. There were so many men that Lorena must have started long ago, when Cleo was only a baby.
But the redhead’s shook her head somberly, biting her lip.
“No Daddy, she did it all in three years. She was sleeping with these guys simultaneously, just waiting for one to bite. It wasn’t even a question of ‘if,’ it was a question of ‘when.’”
And in that instant, I realized I’d been a fucking dunce. A dunce who’d been ruled by my dick. Because Lorena had been fucking multiple men simultaneously with the strategy of getting a rich man’s ring on her finger and it had worked. There’d been a ton of targets and I was the sucker who’d pulled the trigger, who’d made her legit, and now look what had happened. I had a disgusting, lazy ass wife whose daughter I was trying to boff. What a fucking cliché.
“But how do you know she’s tried for kids?” I asked carefully. Shit, what did these other guys know that I didn’t?
“Because Mr. Jennings over in the North Shore said the only way he’d marry her was if she got pregnant. So Lorena was taking all these pre-natal vitamins, going to the doctor all the time to get her cycle checked, but nothing worked. I still remember when Mr. Jennings threw us out,” said Cleo quietly. “It was so humiliating, we had to live in our car for a while.”
And I could only imagine. I knew Len Jennings from some business dealings and the asshole was the type who bragged about his conquests, his billion dollar fortune, when everyone knew he’d filed for bankruptcy twice in the last ten years. Cleo had dodged a bullet as far as I was concerned.
“So is that what this is all about?” I asked. “You and your mom have gone through some hard times and because I’m the rich guy who’s finally made life easy, you feel like you owe me?”
And the redhead shook her head.
“No of course not Daddy, it’s not that I feel like I owe you, it’s that …”
“It’s that what?” I prompted gently.
“Okay, maybe it is,” she confessed. “I want to pay you back for the kindness you’ve shown. I know it’s not the best of circumstances, but I want to love you, show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done. I want you too,” she breathed, her eyes skimming up and down my masculine form, taking in the erection that was starting up again. “I want to feel you inside me, I want you to be my first.”
I was so tempted right then to blow-off my newfound ethics, to say fuck it and take that little girl hard, dirty, right on the ottoman where she was sitting. But instead, I did the right thing.
“Baby, you’re too young,” I said gently. “You don’t know how the world works. You’re still a baby, little girl, you don’t know what you want.”
Cleo’s cheeks colored.
“I know I want you,” she said teasingly, coming to stand beside me, putting her arms around my shoulders. Oh god, her tits were in my face again, her waist so small that my big hands immediately circled them, almost touching each other around that small span. “Please Daddy,” she breathed again, her voice soft and slippery in my ear. “Pretty please.”
And it took the restraint of Hercules, but I did it. I resisted. I pushed her back so that we were no longer touching, and took a deep breath.
“Honey, you think you’ve seen a lot but you haven’t,” I said gently. “You’re what … seventeen?”
“Eighteen,” she corrected immediately. And
I smiled internally. Of course I knew Cleo was eighteen, I’d been counting the days until she was ready, ripe, and legal. But I pretended otherwise.
“Of course, you’re eighteen now,” I said smoothly, “but you don’t know yourself. How could you possibly know that I’m the man for you?”
“I know,” she said stubbornly, again pulling that skirt down her creamy thighs. It was futile, the fabric bounced right back up whenever she yanked it down. “I know because I’m Lorena’s daughter and I’ve been following her all these years, seeing my mom engage in all sorts of backhand deals. So I know a lot more than you think.”
And that was true, to an extent.
“But honey, have you dealt with men before?” I said gently. “Not your mom, you.”
And here my stepdaughter colored, the flush spreading across her chest, those breasts heaving as the pink covered their fullness.
“I have, sort of,” she said. “Mr. Jennings was interested in me too.”
Oh shit. That fucker Jennings was even worse that I thought. So when he couldn’t get Lorena pregnant, he turned to her daughter.
“Did that asshole lay a hand on you?” I growled, my temperature going through the roof. Literally, I thought the top of my head might blow off, the idea of that greasy loser touching any part of my beautiful girl.
“No, he never got a chance,” reassured Cleo. “I just stayed in the van most times when we were at his house. But when mom told him that the pregnancy test had come back negative again, he lost it. He kicked her out … while she was stark naked,” Cleo confessed. “That’s why I said it was so humiliating. Lorena did the walk of shame in her birthday suit, and when I jumped out of the van with some rags to cover her, she didn’t even care. She brushed it off and slowly walked down the drive, laughing the whole time.”
Holy fuck. My wife was a piece of work and then some.
“Did anyone see?” I asked out of morbid curiosity more than anything else.
“No, well just the crew working that day,” she corrected. “Because Mr. Jennings lives on a huge estate, his neighbors are miles away blocked off by shrubbery. No one saw, but it was still humiliating,” she said in a small voice.
Serving Him Page 16
