Mega Huge Collection of Rougher Daddies

by Lara Friedman

  "Yes..."

  "Yes. Now, you will wake up when I snap my fingers... remembering this as a perfectly normal conversation that you feel good about. One, two, three." She snapped her fingers, and Paul blinked.

  "*So* good to finally have a chance to really talk with you, Pierre. I do appreciate your candor." Jane stood up, and started walking to the door.

  "Um... yes. You too," Paul replied, haltingly. He stood up also, looking around the room.

  "Oh, actually, you know, there was one other thing I was curious about," Jane said casually, turning back towards Paul. He raised an eyebrow, but continued looking around as if he'd misplaced something.

  Jane stepped back towards him, taking a large, ornate ring out of her handbag, and setting it on the table in front of Paul. He looked at it, as she'd intended.

  "Look into my eyes," she said firmly. Paul immediately looked up at her, with an air of surprise.

  She leaned forward and tapped the center of his forehead.

  All the focus went out of his eyes.

  "*Good*. So very good. Deeper... and deeper... and deeper. That's right. And just sit right back down on the couch again, letting me guide your body... that's right." She took his arm and led him back to his seat.

  What to do with him now?

  Looking at her blank, mindless... completely edible prey, thinking a little like Lily and a little like those websites her roommate liked so much, an idea came to her, and she laughed. Paul continued to stare, expressionlessly, and she laughed more.

  Jane reached into her purse and took out three small red squares of paper.

  "Now. In a moment, I am going to wake you up again. And you are going to drink my blood, three times."

  He didn't so much as breathe quickly at that. He was completely gone.

  "As you know, this will bind you to me... forever. With each drink, your emotions will bend more and more towards me, until with the third taste of my blood, I will become the most important thing in the world to you. You know this will happen, but you will be unable to stop yourself, because you must obey me."

  "I must obey you..." Paul replied faintly.

  "That's right. And Paul, although you know this is a game, you will find that your emotions are responding just like Pierre's. This will help you get into your role. You will forget that I told you this, Paul, but as you tear each of these pieces of paper that represent drinks of my blood, you will *feel* the change in your emotions towards me, no matter what you think you want. Do you understand?"

  "Yes..."

  "But just to make it extra fun, you're going to start off feeling every bit of annoyance you've ever felt towards me. I'm your nemesis, and you know I have it in for you. You hate me. But you can't stop yourself from drinking my blood, because you must obey me."

  "I must obey you..."

  "That's right. And your emotions will remember *just* how to respond, but you can forget..." she tapped Paul in the forehead, and his eyes unfocused even more.

  "And one, two, three, awake." She snapped her fingers.

  "Huh," said Paul.

  "I do so love our little chats. I hope you'll consider my offer. And, of course, put in a good word for me with your friends."

  Paul shook his head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs. He scowled. "Not very likely. Are we finished here? You are welcome to see yourself out."

  "Oh, absolutely." Jane got up and headed towards the door again. Then she turned. "There's just one more thing..." She pointed towards the three squares of red paper on the table. "Take a drink of my blood."

  Paul looked at the table, then up at her, the distaste growing even stronger on his face. "Sure, of *course* I'm going to blood-bond myself to you." He picked up one of the squares. "I'd say something here about unpleasant things I'd sooner kiss, but I'm sure you can use your imagination." He tore the square of paper, then looked at it in surprise.

  Jane smiled at him. It was *almost* worth losing to her, just to get to see that sexy triumphant grin of hers. Maybe it was just that he had to look at her mouth to avoid looking into her eyes and letting her character get a chance to Dominate him. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

  He briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips, but he couldn't imagine a situation in which either of them would actually go for that unless they were both very drunk.

  "Now you've had your fun. I trust you'll be going?"

  "First, look into my eyes."

  His surprised eyes were right there, looking straight into hers. She laughed, held his gaze for a moment, then deliberately looked away, laughing more. "Now take another drink of my blood."

  "You've got to be the crazy bitch you've always acted like if you think I'm going to drink this one," Paul said, picking up the second square of red paper. "That would give you just a *bit* too much leverage."

  He tore the square, and once again looked down at it in surprise.

  "Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" Jane nearly purred.

  Pierre began to realize... and Paul began to realize... just how much trouble he was in. He stood up and began backing away.

  "You'd better take that last one with you," Jane said. Paul picked up the last red square of paper.

  He was backing slowly away from her, and she was advancing on him, stalking him like the sexiest cat he'd ever seen. From somewhere, the image came into his head of her pushing him onto the couch, straddling him, celebrating her victory over his character with a victory over his body. It was an embarrassing image, but even more embarrassing was that it was making him hard.

  "Look into my eyes," she said again, and he immediately locked gazes with her. Damn it.

  She'd backed him in a circle, and back up against the couch.

  "I'm Dominating you. Throw scissors again. Lose to me," Jane said.

  Paul's arms moved without him really thinking about them, in time with Jane's as they threw rock-scissors-paper for the challenge. They brought their hands up, but he didn't look. He couldn't look away from her.

  "Rock beats scissors," she said. She leaned forward, and he fell onto the couch.

  He lay down, as she came forward, and she straddled him.

  "Last drink," she said, still holding his gaze, so intensely.

  He slowly brought the red square up between them.

  "Drink," she said. "You're mine now."

  Still looking helplessly into her eyes, he slowly tore the third red square.

  And infinitely slowly, knowing he was aching more for it every second, she leaned down to bring her lips right down to his, and kissed him.

  The End.

  A Taste

  The red automobile in front of the apartment had on its trunk a bumper sticker, among others, which read, "Want a taste of religion: Lick a witch."

  "Don't mind if I do," Aidan thought as he stepped up to the apartment's wooden door.

  It was three short knocks on the door.

  "Excuse me, miss," He said with an enticing smile to the brunette who came to the door. "Do you happen to own the red car that is parked out front, there?"

  "Yes. Why?" Her smile was friendly, but terse.

  "Well, this is quite forward I know, but I saw the bumper sticker, and thought 'Don't mind if I do.' Seeing you here has confirmed it for me." He looked her over, but didn't leer.

  Her form was rather enticing. Her straight, shoulder-length hair framed her face nicely. Her bright blue eyes stood out well beneath her dark hair and against her pale flesh. She was wearing a black top, with a low v-neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage and fit snugly around her ample breasts, and some rather short denim shorts, out from which her long, pale legs struck boldly.

  "That is very forward." Her voice was smooth and mellow, and she stood a mere three inches shorter than him.

  "Yes. But I am quite skilled with my tongue."

  She blushed.

  It began to rain as he stood at her door.

  "Well, come in then."

  Forward thoug
h it was, he kissed her deeply, as he pulled her out of her apartment and into the rain, closing the door behind them. He moved his hands to embrace the small of her back and softly traced his fingers on the skin he made to show beneath the shirt.

  She didn't fight. As she felt his fingers on her skin, she lifted her arms above her head. A clear suggestion that he should remove the shirt.

  He didn't make her wait. As he removed her shirt, he spun her round and began to kiss the small of her back. Softly, gently, slowly. He traced his tongue up her spine, inevitably reaching her nape. He began to kiss her neck more fervently then and moved his hands to remove her shorts.

  She kicked them off furiously as they fell about her ankles. She ran the fingers of her left hand through his wet hair as he kissed her, and with her right she unclasped her damp bra, slipping it off one arm and then the other.

  The rain fell harder around them.

  He slid his hands around and up her belly, touching lightly as he went, and grasped her breasts firmly, playing at her nipples gently with his thumbs.

  "My intent was to lick you," he whispered in her ear, nibbling at it.

  His hands left her breasts and made their way firmly down her belly and into her panties. He slid his fingers around to her hips, and began to push her panties down, following them with his tongue. When he had them nearly off, and wrapped nicely around her ankles, he stood and bent her toward the closed door. Her firm, round ass bent well out away from the door; rain dripped down it to her exposed womanhood. He positioned his tongue just above her clitoris and began to lick. He traced her lips gently, and then began to suck on her clit. He could taste her religion well enough. It tasted slightly like rain.

  Her legs began to quiver as the muscles tightened. Her ecstasy was pronounced with a distant crack of thunder. He lapped up every bit of stray juice like a diligent cat.

  Then he removed his wet pants and pressed his member firmly against her warmth. She did not protest as she felt him slide into her. He began to rock her hips back and forth, and she felt him slide deeper and deeper into her with each passive thrust. She moaned audibly as he began to nibble at her neck. He covered her mouth fearing the neighbors may hear over the rain. She forced herself onto him, pushing her warmth to the base of his cock. She wanted to feel all of him deep inside her. He began to thrust harder. It was all she could do not to scream in pleasure. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster. She could feel him brush against her cervix. She could feel his right hand grasping her left breast as his arm wrapped round her. She wanted more. Then she felt it. Soft at first. Merely a whisper against her inner walls. He brought her well-shaped ass to rest firmly against his pelvis as his shaft grew inside her and began to pulse.

  Aidan pushed her gently off of him when he was finished, brought his pants back around his waist, and left her naked in the rain.

  The End.

  Hard Habit to Break

  The room was humming with anticipation. She lay, reclining seductively on the chaise longue in the corner, hand cupping her chin, leaning lazily on her elbow. She feigned an air of nonchalant indifference, as though this turn of events happened every day. In reality her heart raced like a freight train, beating its own frantic symphony inside her chest. She was fired up and wished the moment would hurry, she ached for it and needed the time to pass quickly.

  The softness of the silk robe on her breasts added a delightful sensation to her already hardening nipples as she breathed in and out. She tried to regulate her quickening breaths, but it was hard. Her mouth was dry, and her thoughts a maelstrom of excitement. The assembled men looked her way occasionally, eagerness apparent on their faces, and, she noted with a tingle in between her legs, further southwards.

  Then the host clapped his hands, sounding for all the world like a school teacher, and bade everyone to gather round. He announced that they were to begin shortly, and from that she took her cue, and rose from the chaise undoing the belt of her robe as she did so. As she stood up, her robe slithered from her body, landing almost liquidly at her feet. There were murmurs of approval from everyone, as they caught sight of her firm breasts, her pert bum and her slim waist.

  She lay down on the soft throw that had been placed for her comfort on the floor, and looked around her. This was it, her favourite indulgence, and a time when she knew she would lose herself in the situation entirely. The guys gathered round, looking appreciatively at her lithe body spread out before them. Over to the side a porn film started up on the tv, and the first guy took a hold of his short but thick cock in his hand and began to wank himself up and down slowly.

  The others took their lead and also began to play with themselves, without any self consciousness at all. Someone knelt at her side and she took his stiffening cock in her hand and, gripping firmly, she began to work it up and down, revelling in the power that she felt as it grew within her grasp. One by one they moved closer, eager to make sure they had a space they were happy with, and eager to make sure that their offerings wouldn't fall short. She heard their breaths quickening, saw beads of sweat appearing on their brows, upper lips and torsos and numerous looks of concentration on some of their faces.

  She revelled in the smell in the room, a heady mix of cologne and fresh clean sweat......of testosterone....of pure man, and it made her clit start to tingle again and she felt herself start to get wet. She slid her hand down between her legs and slipped her finger between her pussy lips. The sensation only served to make her nipples even harder, so that they ached so much. She rubbed her swelling clit slowly, feeling it grow under her fingers. A low moan escaped from her lips, which served to tip the kneeling man over the edge into a hot and gushing climax.

  She jumped a little as his hot, thick cum hit her breasts and began to slide down her tits, and as if it had been a catalyst for others to need to release themselves, more and more men jerked and grunted as they came. Their hot, sticky wads of spunk came thick and fast. A never ending salvo across her belly, her thighs and her pussy, over her face and hair, filling her every sense with desire. Her hand kept on rubbing her clit, and she used some of the many splashes of cum as extra lube, which only served to heighten the pleasure she felt building in her cunt. Her pubic hair was thick with wads of semen, and she felt it slip and slide down her body to the floor. Hands reached out and massaged the cum into her body. Fingers spooning it in to her greedily waiting mouth. The taste of red hot seed heightened her pleasure and she knew she was close to climax herself.

  By now some of the men had gotten their second wind, and those who could cum again, were shooting load after load of cum over her body again. The smell of salty semen filled her nostrils and turned her on even more than she ever felt possible. Her whole body slipped and slithered with the cum of many, and she was in heaven. She licked her lips as more cum spattered across them, hungrily cathing as much as she could on her tongue.

  Another load of hot cum shot across her clit and that was all she needed to set her off into the most teeth clenching, toe curling orgasm she had had in a long time.....she lived for these moments and lost herself in it fully and wholly. Her back arched and her limbs trembled, but still she rubbed at her rock hard button, coaxing it into orgasm time and time again. She was aware she was biting her lip in ecstasy, tasting spunk, which started her off on another shuddering climax. The men looked on in awe, watching this show with a mixture of wonder and sheer lust.

  She finished coming and slowly descended back to reality with a huge smile on her face, she gazed around her to see similar grins on the faces of her audience. Someone helped her rise from her position on the floor, and then someone else handed her a towelling robe to replace the silk one she had discarded earlier, and a damp cloth to wipe off her face. She tied the big fluffy robe around herself, and wiped her face. The guys dressed and each came to thank her for her company and her show that night. Some kissed her lightly on the cheek, or gave her a hug, but all promised they had had the most perfect time, and that should she need them, they would
only be too happy to 'visit' again.

  When she was alone, she went and turned on the shower and got in and luxuriated in the hot water. She soaped and shampooed herself squeaky clean again, all traces of her evening of hedonism running down the drain, leaving her with only memories. She towelled herself off briskly, and dressed. With one last look in the mirror, she adjusted her wimple, smoothed down her habit and then quietly let herself out of the hotel room, eager to return to the convent before curfew.

  The End.

  In The Bathroom

  I'm wearing a long black coat that I picked up from one of those fashionable clique shops in London. It's got a double row of brass buttons up the front and a collar that wouldn't look out of place on a Russian military uniform. It swishes slightly round my knees as I walk and it makes me feel like ones of those stylish New York socialite girls. I find that I give my hips an extra little curve as I walk, just because it feels cool.

  I meet you at a fancy bar in the city. It is low lit and warm, cluttered with the conversations of others and the clinking of glasses. I see you at once, leaning on the bar, watching the door. I pause in the doorway to let my eyes wander over you. You're wearing a pale blouse, narrow skirt, shiny black shoes, and a sly smile. I walk over nice and slow. The clip of my heels on the tiled floor cuts through the background noise of the bar and I keep a steady beat, unbuttoning my coat as I walk.

  Once within a few feet, I shrug the coat off my shoulders and open it wide at the hip, revealing my tight little black dress, low cut and short enough that you know that my bare ass would touch the seat if I sat down. I turn smoothly in a full circle, as if allowing you to admire the view. An elaborate show so that you can see that I don't have a pistol hidden anywhere. Meaningless of course, because the theatrical sweep is careful to conceal the strap into the lining at the back of the coat, but you smile and I know you don't know.