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Wednesday, 21 September 2011

One of Mom's Guys: My First Time


This is the story of my first time. I hope you enjoy it :)
I can always tell when the guy Mom brings home is a good fuck. If he isn’t Mom will be up and see him to the door when he leaves. If he makes her cum, though, she’ll be out like a light and the guy will usually sneak out while she’s asleep. An orgasm is like a sleeping pill for her but a wake up call for me.
The walls in our new apartment are pretty thin. We moved in right after Mom left Dad. It turns out he was fucking my best friend, Tracy, whenever she stayed over at our house. He got caught when he made a video of them and Mom found it on his computer. Tracy’s the same age as me, thirteen.
Mom went crazy when she found out. She was going to call the cops but I cried and begged her not to. I told him I never wanted to see him again, but still, I didn’t want him to go to prison. So Mom didn’t call the police, instead, she threw things at him. One of the things she threw was a can of Lysol. It smashed through the glass on the gas fireplace in the living room. No one really noticed at first, we were all screaming and crying, but then it exploded and the house burned to the ground. Dad moved into a house across town with two divorced guys he met on Craigslist who were looking for a roommate. Mom and I moved in here.
I could hear Mom fucking the first night we stayed here even though our bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment with the kitchen and living room in between. The sound woke me up. I went and watched her through the crack in her door. She was fucking Mr. Stenson, the apartment manager. His wife showed us the apartment and got mad at him for snooping around and bothering my Mom with questions. He was old, like, in his fifties with gray hair and a beer-belly. I masturbated while I watched them fuck, but I didn’t get why my Mom would do it with such an old guy. She’s only thirty-two and still really hot.
Mr. Stenson wasn’t that good. Mom showed him to the door when they were done and after she sat and watched Sex & The City reruns and cried. I climbed back into bed, masturbated again, and then cried until I fell asleep.
The next day, two men showed up to deliver our new sofa. Mom told me to go play outside and stay out of their way. After, like, half-an-hour I tried to get back into the apartment but the door was locked. I went around back and came in through the sliding glass doors on the patio. I watched from the kitchen while the two moving men fucked my Mom on the new couch. They did a good job. When they left she was curled up naked on the couch, fast asleep. She was embarrassed when I finally woke her up, but tried to act like she slept naked on the couch all the time.
“Must have dozed off,” she muttered, not bothering to cover herself as she stood up and walked casually to the bathroom to shower.
Over the next three weeks, Mom brought home more men than I could keep track of. There was a bar just around the corner from our place and usually, after I went to bed, I would hear her go out. She would come back an hour later and it wasn’t long before I heard the familiar sounds coming through the walls. On the nights when she made it to her bedroom, I would slip out of my room and watch from the crack in her door. When she fucked in the living room, I simply pried my door open and watched from my bed.
One Thursday afternoon, I came home from school to find Mr. Stenson sneaking out of our apartment. He must have improved because Mom was curled up in bed fast asleep when I went in. I had picked up on her ways and habits by then, and thought I had her figured out when the following Sunday afternoon I came back from hanging out at the mall with my friends and found the door locked. I snuck around back again to the patio door. I recognized the man fucking my Mom as one of our neighbors in the apartment complex but didn’t find out until the next day that the woman Mom was eating out was his wife. I saw them leaving for work in the morning. They looked like a happy couple.
Then Mom brought Philip home. It was a school night, which usually meant a bar night, but Mom showed up with Philip before it was even dark.
“Sweetie, this is Bill,” she said, introducing him as they walked through the door.
“Philip,” he corrected her, and then nearly dropped the bags of groceries he was holding when he saw me sitting on the couch in my sweatpants.
“Sorry, Phil,” Mom said, lugging bags to the kitchen counter and taking no notice of his reaction.
“Philip,” he corrected her again, nodding an awkward hello at me. “Um, it’s Jill, isn’t it?” he sputtered, attempting to recover himself. 
“Hi, Mr. Benton,” I muttered, looking suspiciously from him to my Mom.
“You two know each other?” Mom asked, looking between us with shock and curiosity etched on her face. She was frozen with one hand on the refrigerator door and the other clutching a gallon of milk.
“We play soccer…” Philip started, but shook his head, laughing nervously, “My daughter plays soccer… Mindy…”
“Mindy’s on my soccer team,” I cut in, rescuing him from his pathetic attempt at a straight answer. He seemed to be sweating all of the sudden, as if the bags clutched in his large fists were too heavy to hold for another second.
“That’s right,” he gushed, and then stupidly repeated the word soccer.
“Well, small world,” Mom grinned, amused by the coincidence and even more by Philip’s desperate state. If he were a turtle he would have gladly disappeared into his shell. “I just met Mr. Benson at the grocery store,” she beamed at him, and then at me.
“Ya, well, your Mom looked like she could use a hand,” he said anxiously, holding up the bags as evidence, “I just thought I’d…” He stuttered and stopped and started again while Mom enjoyed watching him suffer. “But, I should be going, I guess…” he said, backing toward the door.
“Nonsense,” Mom smiled, finally coming to his rescue. “Come in and have a seat,” she said, taking the bags from him and piling them on the counter, “I’ll make us some coffee.”
“I don’t know…” he began, throwing nervous glances at me.
“Did you do your homework?” Mom asked, cutting him off and focusing the attention on me.
“Yes,” I answered shortly, flipping the station to South Park.
“I thought you had a book-report due, or something,” she said, ignoring Philip and stuffing juice into the fridge and bread in the cupboard.
“It’s not due til next week,” I informed her, turning up the volume on the TV and trying to ignore the man in the doorway now staring at me.
‘Well, go get some reading done,” she said, quickly clearing the counter, “Bill and I don’t want to watch cartoons.”
“Philip,” he muttered, looking away when I looked at him.
“Sorry, Phil,” Mom said offhandedly, “Come on, you can bring the laptop in your room.”
“The Internet doesn’t work in there,” I whined, dragging myself up from the couch. We stole our Internet from one of the neighbor’s wireless accounts and it only ever worked at the kitchen table.
“Read your book then,” she said without sympathy, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off.
I stumbled and grumbled to my room, but couldn’t help noticing the wedding band on Mr. Benton’s finger. He seemed to sense what I was looking at and quickly shoved his hand in his pocket.
“Say good night to Bill,” Mom ordered me, pulling a bottle of Kaluha from the shopping bag.
“Good night, Mr. Benton,” I simpered, smiling sarcastically at him. He avoided my eyes, checking out his shoes instead.
“Good night, Jill,” he said, not bothering to correct my Mom this time.
Before I closed the door behind me, I gave one last look over my shoulder and was sure I caught Philip checking out my butt. It had the word Juicy written across it and the look in his eye seemed to suggest that he might like a taste. I surprised myself by blushing, and then arching my back and batting my eyes at him. He looked quickly away before I disappeared behind the door.
I lay on my bed staring at my book but not reading it. Instead I was thinking of all the times I saw Mr. Benton at my soccer games. I had never spoken to him and I didn’t know his daughter Mindy too well. I tried to remember if she ever said her parents were divorced. My Dad always took me to my soccer games, so Mom would never have met Philip before, but Mindy’s Mom was there a lot and I was sure I had seen her and Mr. Benton together. They didn’t look like a divorced couple.
Suddenly the sound of the TV penetrated the thin walls of my room. I easily recognized the voices of Cartman and Kyle and waited for the station to change to something boring. It didn’t change.
I slid out of bed and slowly turned the knob on my door. It opened and I pressed my eye to the tiny crack. I wasn’t completely surprised by what I saw, but was somehow much more excited than usual. Philip was sitting at the end of the couch with one arm stretched out along the backrest. Mom was lying down, her head in his lap, and his cock in her mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he sighed, his head rolling back. His hand slid from the back of the couch and he pushed it under Mom’s panties, down between the cheeks of her round ass. Her jeans were balled up on the floor.
I don’t know where the idea came from, but it was like it wasn’t even my own. It just popped into my head, more like an impulse than a thought really, and I just reacted before I could think about it and chicken out.
“Jill!” Mom barked, when Philip jumped under her and she turned her head and saw me standing there, “What are you doing up?” She was hiding Philip’s hard-on behind her head but hardly trying to act innocent while she lay half naked across the couch. Philip, at first, looked like he might climb out the window, but now he sat with wide, scared eyes staring at my legs. I slipped my sweats off before I came out of my room and was standing there in only a t-shirt and panties.
“I needed a drink of water,” I said defensively, acting as if I was clueless about what was going on.
“Well, get one and get back to bed,” she ordered.
“It’s barely nine o’clock,” I argued, turning on the faucet but dumping some Kaluha into my glass instead.
“It’s a school night,” Mom countered, sounding exasperated.
“So?” I shot back bravely.
“So get to bed, now,” she growled, and I knew not to push it any further.
“Fine,” I said bitterly, stomping back to my room with the glass of Kaluha hidden from view. I stopped before going in and gave a quick look back. I had put a little extra swing in my swagger with my t-shirt hiked up to offer Mr. Benton a good look at my butt. The white panties had Holler scrawled across the bottom and sure enough, when I looked over my shoulder, he looked like he wanted to holler. His eyes were wide and fixed on my little round hips. Mom’s head was buried in his lap as if she were trying to stifle a scream.
“Good night, Mr. Benton,” I called back, giving him my best seductive smile. I slipped my finger under the leg band of my panties and tugged them from my tight little crack. He looked ready to crack himself.
“Go to bed!” Mom barked.
I went back to my room and Mom went back to sucking Philip’s cock. I watched through the door, fingering my pussy while I lay in bed. The hallway was dark and so was my room, so I knew Philip couldn’t see me. Still, his eyes were glued to my door while Mom’s head bobbed up and down in his lap. I fought the urge to open the door wider and let him see me. Mom would have killed me.
Before either Philip or I got off, Mom stood up from the couch and pealed off her clothes. Philip kicked his shoes aside and pulled his shirt over his head while constantly throwing glances toward my room. Mom clicked off the TV and then dragged him to her bedroom by his cock before he could get his jeans off. I lay there, breathing heavily in the dark, trying to work up the courage to carry out another impulse that had formed in my head.
It wasn’t long before I could hear Mom’s moans mixed with her squeaking bed frame. I could tell by the sounds she made it was going to be another orgasm night, and when her squeals peaked and the bed frame slowed to a halt, the long, pregnant silence that followed told me I was right.
I had resisted the urge to sneak out of my room and watch them. I knew if I did I would make myself cum and then I would chicken out. I needed the fire burning inside me to stay ignited. It was sweet torture to listen to them in the dark and not touch myself.
A floorboard creaked in the silent apartment and I recognized the familiar sounds of a man sneaking out while my mother slept. I climbed out of bed and the floor seemed to shift beneath me. I had downed the sweet Kaluha in one gulp, not really sure if I liked it and unaware of it’s affects until I stood up. I giggled, and taking a deep, steadying breath, I followed another impulse and slipped my undies down my legs and stepped out of them. My little slit was wet and the cool night air felt like tiny kisses that made me shiver. I put my hand on the doorknob, hesitated a moment, drawing another deep breath, and then slowly pulled the door open.
Mr. Benton had his back to me. He was bent over picking his clothes up off the floor. All he had managed to put on were his jeans that were still unzipped and unbuttoned at the fly. I stepped into the hallway and stood there waiting anxiously for him to notice me, fidgeting with the hem of my t-shirt. When he did notice me, he dropped the shoe he had just picked up. It hit the floor and sounded like a cannon going off in the stillness of the apartment. His head jerked towards Mom’s room and we both waited. Nothing happened. He turned back to me, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Your Mom’s asleep,” he finally said in a hushed voice, at a loss for anything else to say.
“I know,” I said, my voice timid but determined, “She won’t hear us.”
“Hear us?” he said, looking confused standing there with his jeans undone and holding one shoe. I didn’t answer, I simply gripped the hem of my shirt and lifted it up over my head. My dark hair fell down around my shoulders and I let the shirt drop to the floor. I stood naked in front of him, trembling slightly, the cool night air like silk against my hot skin.
“She won’t hear us if we use my room,” I said, breaking the long silence between us. He was simply staring at me with his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open. “If you want to,” I added, starting to feel nervous. He finally moved, jerking his head back toward Mom’s room again, and then back to me. I could swear I heard his heart pounding inside his chest.
“Ya,” he muttered, nodding his head. He gave Mom’s room one last look, and then bent down and picked up the dropped shoe. “Grab your shirt, Sweetie,” he whispered, after collecting his socks and shirt, and I suddenly felt like a little girl being told by her Daddy to pick her clothes up off the floor.
I scooped up the shirt and he followed me back to my room, closing the door silently behind us. The room was dark except for the streetlamp shining though the window. I dropped my shirt again and he set his things on the floor in the corner. Then we just stood there. His eyes looked nervously from me to my bed. I followed them and saw that the book I was supposed to read was still lying there along with a bunch of my stuffed animals.
“Oh,” I muttered, and grabbed the book and put it on the nightstand and then I lifted one knee on to the bed and stretched across, pushing my stuffed animals to the floor on the other side. I froze and gave a little gasp when I felt his hand on my naked butt.
“Oh my God,” I heard him breath, and then I felt the strange and wonderful sensation of his lips and tongue against my bare skin. He was squeezing and kissing my ass, sucking at my soft flesh and pulling my firm cheeks apart.
I didn’t know what to do, so I just stayed still on my hands and knees letting him kiss me. My only experience with sex was masturbating and watching Mom fuck. I didn’t think I would be so nervous, but when I thought about my first time I never thought it would be with a forty-year-old man and I never imagined my first kiss would be on my butt. It felt good though, and he seemed to love it. He was taking great scoops of my flesh into his mouth and licking and sucking at it. He was breathing heavily and muttering soft words I couldn’t make out.
Then he pushed me forward so I was flat on my belly and his mouth slid into the tight crack of my ass. I squirmed at the sensation, and then cried out when his slick tongue pried apart my pussy lips and he lapped and sucked at my pink slit from behind.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned , and his mouth clamped down on my pussy and I could hear him slurping up my juices. I was shy at first about making noise but with each stroke of his tongue along my dripping slit the sounds I was so used to hearing from my Mom were coming out of me.
“Unnngh,” I cried. My entire body was trembling and his strong hands gripped and held my ass. I had never felt anything so amazing at his tongue and soon I was filling his mouth with my juices. He drank them greedily, lavishing my pussy with kisses and long lashes of his tongue.
I was limp and like a ragdoll when he rolled me onto my back. He pulled my legs apart and kissed my inner thighs and the peach fuzz on my sensitive mound. I shivered with each touch, trying to catch my breath.
“Do you do this with all your Mom’s dates?” he asked from between my thighs. His thick finger slid up and down my slit, slowly pushing deeper into my sex.
“Huh-uh,” I muttered shyly, shaking my head.
“No?” he said, sounding surprised. I shook my head again. He was silent for a moment, and then he pushed his finger more firmly and deeply between my tight pink walls. It was like a stab or a poke and I jumped and gasped. He stopped. “Are you a virgin?” he asked.
I didn’t answer except for a slight nod of my head. Lying half on the bed with his head between my legs, he was little more than a silhouette in the dark and I couldn’t see his expression, but the light from the street lamp fell across my face and I knew he could see me. He suddenly sat up and looked to the door and back to me.
“You’re really a virgin?” he asked, his voice sounding strange. I nodded again, worried that he was upset. “Have you done anything with a boy?” he pressed me.
“Not really,” I muttered, blushing and lowering my eyes even though he was barely a shadow in the dark. I thought about the time I was alone with Mark Dennon in his basement and how badly I wanted to kiss him, but we were both too scared to even hold hands.
“Jesus,” Philip whispered in the dark, and I could suddenly hear him breathing again, like he’d just run a mile, or something. He looked quickly to the door again. “You sure your Mom’s asleep?” he asked anxiously.
“Ya,” I answered, starting to feel embarrassed lying there naked. Then he moved quickly. There was a click and the light from the lamp on my nightstand burned bright in my eyes. I squinted and covered my face.
“I’ve got to see this,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself. I opened my eyes again and he was staring at my naked body with an excited hungry look on his face. “No boy has ever touched you?” he asked, and I shook my head, no. He was still breathing heavily and he ran his hands from my knees down my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart again. “Oh my God,” he moaned, and he bent down and licked my virgin slit again.
I relaxed a little but was still nervous. He moved his mouth up from my pussy and nuzzled his nose and lips into my fuzzy mound. Then he kissed my belly, and then he took my breasts in his hands, squeezing and licking them. The sensation was amazing. “Perfect,” he muttered, moving back and forth between them.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed into my mouth, and I blushed and my pulse jumped as I felt my first real kiss. His lips were soft and he pushed his tongue into my mouth, sliding it over mine. His bare chest pressed against my naked tits and his heavy body covered me. I ran my hands up his broad back and pulled him tighter to me. Our tongues danced and I recognized the taste of my pussy on his sweet breath. My heart was jumping and I never wanted him to stop kissing me.
“I wanna fuck you so bad, Baby,” he growled, pulling his mouth from mine and kissing my neck and ear. The words were like an electric shock and my body trembled with excitement and fear. “Yes,” I gasped, and I slid my hands down his back until they met the rough material of his jeans. I pushed at them and he lifted his hips. His thick cock slipped out from the open fly and I felt it slap against my thigh.
“You want my cock, Little Girl?” he growled, “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” I repeated, both shocked and excited by the term Little Girl. He kicked his legs and the jeans dropped off the side of the bed to the floor. He was naked now, lying between my spread thighs, his warm, heavy body forcing me into the mattress, his soft mouth covering mine.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, leaning on one elbow and reaching down between us. He guided the tip of his cock to the entrance of my virgin slit. He was big. In knew that much from watching my Mom with different men. I wrapped my arms tightly around him waiting. It took a while, but slowly and methodically, he pushed his cock inside of me.
“Oh, yes, Baby,” he breathed into my ear, “Yes.” I couldn’t speak. My body was a mixture of pain and ecstasy. I had a cock inside me. I long, thick, hot piece of flesh where not even my slender little fingers had been before. Waves of heat seemed to emanate from my pussy and for a long time he simply lay there with the root of his cock wedged into my newly opened honey pot. Then he fucked me.
It was slow and gentle at first, rocking back and forth inside me. Then he pulled back and pushed forward. His cock raked the tight walls of my cunt, and I panted and held him to me. He was kissing me and fucking me with a steadily increasing rhythm. My body screamed and my pussy wept. He was on his elbows and I felt his heavy balls spanking my ass with each thrust of his cock.
The bed was shifting beneath us and I recognized the squeaking bed frame I knew so well. I could also hear the moans escaping from me, so much like my mother’s. My eyes were shut tight and I could see myself getting fucked as if I was watching from the hallway with my face pressed to the crack in the door. The image excited me and I spread my thighs and hooked my ankles around his bucking hips.
“Fuck,” he cried, and his hips slammed down on mine. His cock buried itself deep in my cunt, and I felt the hot, soothing gush of his cum filling my young body. “Oh, Sweetie,” he moaned again and again, stroking my hair and kissing my neck and ears. There were tears on my cheeks and he wiped them away with his fingers. I clung to him and he rock slowly back and forth with his dick inside me. I wanted to stay like that forever, but finally he lifted himself up and I gave a little cry when his cock slipped free from my grip.
“Did you like that?” he whispered, rolling onto his side next to me. Now that it was over and my pussy was empty, I felt sore, but I nodded. I did like it and I was already wondering when I would do it again. “You’ll need to change your sheets,” he said, and I looked down between my legs and saw that the wetness I felt there was blood mixed with my juices. “It’s okay,” he smiled, seeing the expression on my face, “That always happens the first time.” I knew this already, but I was still shocked by the sight. “I’ll get something to clean you up,” he said, then cocked his head toward the door, listening.
“Nothing wakes her up,” I said, and he laughed, “Thank God!”
He tiptoed to the door and paused again, listening before he opened it. Then he crept out into the hall. I lay there on my bed, naked with blood staining my freshly fucked pussy. I was no longer a virgin. I had my first kiss and my first cock all at once, and suddenly I understood more completely than ever why Mom loved to fuck so much.
I also thought about the fact that my first time was with a forty-year-old man, the father of one of the girls on my soccer team. I wondered if Mindy was home sleeping or if she was up worried that her Dad hadn’t come home from the grocery store yet. What would she think if she knew her Dad just fucked one of her friends? Then I thought about Tracy, my best friend until I found out she fucked my Dad. I wondered if it happened like this; if Tracy had seduced him the way I did Mindy’s Dad. I wondered if my Dad had been as nervous and excited when he fucked my friend. I hadn’t spoken to my Dad since our house burned down, and lying there with a strange man’s cum melting inside my pussy, I hated to think I understood something about him, too.
I tried to force the thoughts away. I didn’t want to think about my Dad and Tracy. I was already starting to get upset, but then Philip returned. He tiptoed through the door with his arms full.
“What’s that for?” I asked, nodding at the stuff he dumped on the bed next to me.
“We’re just gonna clean you up a little,” he grinned mischievously. The cool washcloth felt good on my tender pussy, but it was the razor and shaving cream Mom and I used to shave our legs that had my attention. “Here,” he said without asking, once he laid the bloody washcloth aside. I didn’t protest but watched curiously, propped up on my elbows as he massaged the cream into the downy fuzz on my mound.
“How come you’re doing that?” I finally asked when he dragged the razor over my sensitive skin, removing the bit of hair that had taken me thirteen years to grow.
“I just want to see how you look all smooth and clean shaven,” he said, running his fingers over the newly exposed skin. I let him finish. It was kind of exciting having him shave me. My tired cunny was tingling again by the time he used another wet washcloth to wipe away the cream.
“Mmm,” he sighed, caressing my naked flesh with his fingertips. Then he rubbed his cheek and nose over my mound and kissed my electric button. “Mmm,” I sighed, feeling my juices start to bubble again. “Doesn’t that feel much better?” he smiled, kissing and nibbling at my hairless kitty. “Uh-huh,” I answered, rolling my hips under him.  
“Here,” he said much too quickly and sat up between my legs, leaving me all heated up. He pulled me up into a seated position and moved behind me with the hairbrush he brought back. He started brushing my hair and I thought this was a weird way to clean me up. Then he took the two red scrunchies I use to pull my hair back when I wore it in a ponytail, and he brushed my hair to the sides of my head and tied it into pigtails.
“There,” he said proudly, and we both looked at my reflection in the mirror over my vanity, “You look so beautiful.” I giggled.
“I haven’t worn pigtails since I was a little girl,” I said, shaking my head so they flapped around my face.
“You look perfect,” he sighed, and he stood me up in front of the mirror. He actually did a really good job with my hair. The pigtails were even and he left little bangs hanging over my forehead. I stood there and we both admired my image in the mirror.
“Mmm,” he breathed, sitting on the bed behind me and kissing my neck. He ran his hands down my naked body and around my hips, tickling my smooth pussy with his fingertips. I watched him play with me in the mirror, loving the look of my young body being worshipped by this older man. He turned me around, pulling me between his legs by my butt and kissing me passionately.
“Will you do something for me?” he said, moving his lips to my tits and nibbling at my hard little nipples.
“What?” I asked, feeling my insides melt like butter.
“Will you put on your soccer jersey?” he said. I giggled again.
“How come?” I asked.
“You always looked so sexy in your jersey,” he said, still kissing my tits, “I just wanna see you in it.” I thought it was weird but I agreed. He watched me hungrily as I went to the closet and grabbed my shorts.
“Don’t worry about the shorts,” he said, “Just the jersey.”
“Okay,” I shrugged, and pulled the jersey on over my head, shaking my pigtails out. The jersey covered my butt and pussy but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Put your socks and cleats on, too,” he said, and waited patiently while I sat on the edge of the bed and rolled my socks up to my knees and tied the cleats to my feet.
“Like this?” I asked, standing in front of him and looking down at my self. The cleats click and clacked on the hardwood floor and his eyes devoured me.
“Oh, Baby,” he groaned, “You look so sexy.” He pulled me into his lap and kissed me. His hand pressed up under my jersey and massaged my tits before skipping down between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his neck, opened my legs, and breathed into his open mouth.
“Mmm, you’re such a perfect little girl,” he sighed, digging his finger into my pussy, “You’ve got Daddy all hard again.” The word Daddy shocked me, but before I could react he was kissing me again. Then he took my wrist and moved my hand down between our legs and I felt the hot skin beneath my fingers. The shock turned into excitement. I had been fucked but I still hadn’t held a cock in my hand. I gripped it and tugged it gently and he moaned into my mouth.
“Do you want to play with Daddy’s cock, Baby?” he asked. My blood was boiling and the shock of his words only added fire to the furnace.
“Uh-huh,” I nodded eagerly, staring at the hard piece of flesh in my hand.
“Here, Sweetie,” he said, and he grabbed one of my pillows and dropped it on the floor between his legs. I slid off his lap and dropped to my knees. The toes of my cleats scraped against the floor behind me,
“That’s it, Sweetie,” he moaned, and I stared at the cock inches from my face, pumping my fist up and down its full length.  ”Oh ya,” he sighed, when I used my other hand to fondle his squishy sack. He played with my pigtails and watched me explore, before sliding his thumb over my lips and pressing the tip inside. “Daddy wants to put his cock in your beautiful little mouth, Baby,” he said, tilting my chin up so I was looking into his eyes. “Do you wanna suck Daddy’s cock, Sweetie?” he asked, nearly pleading. I nodded softly, suckling the tip of his thumb.
“Oh, fuck,” he cried when I pushed my mouth down over his fat head. I had watched my Mom suck enough cock that I had an idea what to do. I gripped the base of his shaft in my tiny fist and pumped him up into my warm, wet mouth. My soft lips slid up and down and my wet tongue bathed his hot skin. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
“Suck Daddy’s balls, Princess,” he ordered, and I obeyed, catching his fleshy sack with my tongue and scooping each ball into my mouth. “Look up here, Sweetie,” he said, and with his balls in my mouth I looked up past his dick into the lens of his camera phone. “Oh ya,” he sighed, snapping a picture, “Just like that, Baby.” He took several more pictures rubbing his cock against my face and pushing it deep into my mouth. My hand was between my legs now rubbing my desperate pussy.
“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fuck your face,” he suddenly cried, and he lifted me up and pushed me back onto the bed. He took another pic of me lying there on my back in my jersey with his cock between my spread thighs, and then he pushed the jersey up and took some with his cock between my tits, Finally, he straddled my chest, hunched forward, and fucked my mouth.
“Aaaagh!” he cried out after several minutes, and I closed my eyes as he dowsed my face in cum. I lay there with the hot goo covering me and heard him click several more photos before the warm washcloth wiped me clean.
“Daddy wants to fuck his little girl again,” he whispered in my ear.
“Yes,” I panted, nodding eagerly. He kissed my neck and my breasts, and then he pulled the jersey off over my head so that all I had on were the knee-high socks and cleats.
“Come here, Baby,” he said, and he rolled me over and pulled my up by my hips so I was on my hands and knees. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you good now, Baby,” he warned, and he pressed one hand to the back of my neck, forcing my head down into the pillow while his other hand gripped my ass.
“Nnnnngh!” I cried, when he pushed his fat cock back into my pussy. It almost felt like loosing my cherry all over again, but this time he was less patient and less gentle. He pulled my pussy back onto his cock and I bit down on the pillow when I felt my ass bounce off his hips. He didn’t stop. He pushed me forwards then pulled me back, fucking me hard and fast.
“That’s Daddy’s Little Girl,” he growled, “Fuck Daddy’s cock. Mmm, Daddy’s Baby is a nasty little slut, just like her Mom, aren’t you, Baby? You like that cock, Baby, don’t you? You like Daddy’s fat cock inside you?”
His words were almost as good as his cock and each one pushed me closer and closer to the brink. “Yes, yes, yes,” I answered, like a good little girl, taking each thrust of his cock with pleasure. Then he stopped.
“Don’t…” I started to beg, but he shushed me, holding my ass tight to his hips. Then I heard it; the floorboards creaking. He quickly lunged forwards and clicked off the light on the nightstand. We were both in darkness, listening, terrified. I had enough experience to recognize that the creaking floorboard came from the other side of the apartment. It sounded like near the bathroom, and sure enough, after a minute of silence, the toilette flushed.
“She’s…” I started, but he shushed me again. Her feet were padding across the floor and in my mind I could see her moving to the kitchen. There was a tinkle of glass, and then the faucet was running. I could see her taking a drink. She hadn’t heard us, I was sure of it, but Mr. Benton was frozen behind me like a statue.
“Daddy…” I purred softly in the dark. He squeezed the back of my neck gently, too terrified even to shush me now, but I was feeling mischievous. “Daddy…” I whined, and I wiggled my pussy around his hard cock. He gasped slightly and moved both hands to my hips trying to hold me still. I could hear Mom moving around the living room.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I teased, and I bounced my ass off his hips and slid forward, and then back on his cock.
“Shush!” he ordered, grabbing a firmer grip on my hips, but his cock had jumped inside me.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I said again, “Please…” His hands relaxed on my hips and I wiggled and bounced my pussy on his dick. “Mmm, Daddy,” I purred, digging my cleats into the mattress and rocking back into him. The light in the living room shining underneath my door clicked off and he let go of my ass completely. “Fuck me, Daddy,” I pleaded, and with the sound of Mom’s bedroom door shutting, he grabbed hold of both my pigtails and fucked me like a whore.
It was three a.m. before Mr. Benton snuck out of my room and went home to his wife and daughter. He swore to me that he had never been so hard or cum so many times in his life. I was exhausted and sore by the time we finished, like a limp ragdoll, but all I could think about was when I would get to fuck again.
I told Mom I was sick in the morning and stayed home from school. She didn’t suspect a thing, and after a well needed day of rest, by bedtime I had already taken my next impulse and shaped it into a definite plan. But that would have to wait for tomorrow.
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