Old porn I wrote
Here are the erotic stories I have posted so far...
missed you
I stay in my car, watching the storefront for a long time in the dark. People flit in and out slowly, under the lights.
Finally I step out into the sea air, and walk towards the entrance. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, too long, face to face.
The noises of people and machines surround me, and I feel quite like the predator stalking his prey. I round a corner, near the back, and my eyes come upon you.
You are so beautiful to me.
I take that moment, stopping in my tracks, to savor you. The curve of your neck, the swell of your beautiful ample breasts. The hour glass effect of your waist, the swell of your womanly hips.
Even here, in this strange place, I adore your beauty.
You look up, eyes startled to see me, as I approach. The person you were helping fades away, and you step forward and whisper
“Master! What are you doing here?”
I smile at this, your little girl surprise, and in answer only point towards the door. It’s the “office”, a place you have described to me, a small, cluttered closet of a room.
We enter and you shut the door, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes.
“I can only,” You start, but my fingers stop you.
I caress your lips, so lush and soft, eyes locked on yours.
“Turn around,” I say softly.
“Yes Sir,” You say, looking pensive, but complying.
Now you are facing the old gray metal desk. My hand finds your back, slides up the thin material covering your flesh, and pushes your shoulders firmly down.
“Master?” You ask as you cheek presses against cool metal.
I unbutton your jeans then, the rough sound of the zipper filling the small space we share, and slide the denim off of your ass.
The pair of sweet little pale pink bikini panties you wear strains a bit against the round of your soft, sweet ass.
“What did I say?” I whisper, fingers trailing across the waistband of those panties.
‘Y’you said no panties today Sir, but…” You stop abruptly as I yank them down, baring your butt.
The first blow lands solidly on the left lobe of your ass, the pale cheek blooming pink as my hand comes away from it.
“Oh Master, I’m sorry!” You say, the pain in your voice touching me and arousing me at the same time.
The second lands with a slapping sound on the right cheek, my palm stinging and ears echoing.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” You tell me, as the third blow lands in the center of you butt, on the cleft of you, the pain shared by both sides.
My cock is twitching now, wanting you, wanting to be free and fucking. Your ass glows up at me, a hot pink sheen to it.
Whap!
“Master I’m Sorry!”
Crack!
“Oh god Master, oh!”
Whack!
“Please Master please!” This cry, the cry for relief, the cry I have taught you to beg for your cum.
“Cum!” I hiss, a bit shocked as you shake beneath me.
“You come from a spanking?” I whisper, unbuckling my pants and letting them drop.
“From your spanking Master, only you!”
I feel the soft flesh of you ass against my cock as it slips between your flesh, sliding down through soft pussy lips, finding your fuckhole.
“What are you for?” I ask, the tip of me poised against you.
“I’m for fucking!” You tell me, and I plunge into you, lunging deep, feeling your soft swollen sex part and give for me.
“Oh Oh Oh god.” You whimper, as I pump into you hungrily.
“Take it slut!” I hiss, lancing harder, angry and horny and wanting.
“I will Master Oh god!”
I’m sure anyone in the back row can hear but I don’t care. I’m a fucking machine, your pussy so slick, taking my cock, spread by it, stretched.
“I’m for fucking I’m for fucking!” You call, and I plunge in again, sinking deep, and explode.
Bright colors and blackness, my teeth locked together, I feel myself spasm within you, pumping seed inside you in pulsing spurts.
‘Oh thank you Master, thank you!’ You whisper as I slowly come around, feeling your back against my stomach.
I kiss your head, the soft hair there smelling like the ocean, and straighten.
“Good girl,” I whisper, “Now go back to work.”
~~~
The anticipation is all that I can bare.
I leave my car, enter the hotel, feeling the blood racing in my veins.
Last night we talked, like so many nights, sharing the intimacy, the
meeting of minds, your fresh, young thoughts corrupted beautifully by mine.
You were so excited about today, so happy, and I basked in that, loving
your joy.
These months we have known each other I have seen you blossom from an
unsure little bud into a breath-taking flower. You were a little girl
lost, and now you are my sweet slave.
I pick up my key at the desk, walk to the elevator, thinking of the sounds
of you, cumming in my ear last night.
I pause before the door, taking in a breath, steeling myself for the
moment. My watch tells me I am one minute early. I have given you
specific instructions, crafted this moment, and the thought of them, of you
meeting them, thrills me.
I use the key, open the door, seeing one light on in the sleeping chamber.
“Sir?” Your voice asks, fearful.
I walk towards the light.
“No Baby, Master is here.” I say, seeing you in the flesh for the very
first time.
You kneel on the corner of the bed, facing the door, just as I instructed.
Your lovely face holds a look of trepidation as my eyes sweep over you.
The hollow of your neck, the beautiful curve of your heavy breasts, hanging
low and bare, the locket I have sent you nestled in the cleavage.
The soft slope of your hips, so womanly, so fertile, the hidden valley of
your pubic mound, just barely visible between your lush thighs.
Our eyes meet, and I smile at you. You are perfection.
I walk forward, my hand finding your cheek, the skin there like velvet, so
soft. You rub your face against my hand like a cat.
“Good girl,” I whisper, leaning down a bit to smell your hair, the scent of
your soap and flesh, like orchids to me.
“Thank you M’Master.” You tell me, as my hand slides down the side of your
neck.
“Serve me,” I tell you, looking down with pride on you.
You are my hope, my dreams, the slave I will have, will nurture, will love.
“Yes Master,” You answer, eyes looking up at me, in wonder.
Your hands reach out, tentatively, finding the fly of my trousers, and
slowly unzipping. We have discussed this moment so many times, and yet
this will be the first time you hold my cock in your hands.
Gently you take it out, feeling it already stiffening in your grasp. My
fingers trail down, find your nipples, begin to slowly tug at them, lightly
pinch them. They come alive in my grip, stiffening like my cock.
Your kiss is light, tentative, and then I feel your mouth on me, kissing,
sucking. It’s heaven. I feel myself so hard now, like an iron rod, the
warmth of your lips, the electric pleasure of your tongue.
I squeeze your breast now, kneading them, feeling your big rosebud nipples
pushing against my palms.
It is too much, too soon, and I pull myself from your mouth, hands to your
shoulders, pushing you over backwards.
And I am on you, between your thighs, still fully clothed, not at all like
my plan. I find your neck and kiss it hungrily, tasting you, wanting you.
Your thighs part for my legs as my hands find you own, cover them, pin
them, fingers entwined.
“Beg me to fuck you.” I hiss in your ear, feeling the head of my
cock nestling against the smooth crease of your smooth, hairless pussy.
“Fuck me Master!” You cry, “Please fuck me!” And I do, sliding into you,
savoring the tight grip of your fresh little pussy.
I see you bite your lip, feel your hands grip mine more tightly, and I push
in, deeper, almost all the way. You are so tight, so soft, so wet around
me. Perfection.
I push again, a bit harder, and feel my balls brush the flesh of you ass as
my cock sinks into you all the way. Our eyes meet, lock for a moment, and
then you close yours, turn away a bit, feeling me inside you for the very
first time.
I buck into you, amazed that we are here, that you are my slave, my Flower,
my slut. My thighs against the backs of yours, my stomach brushing your
own, my hands on yours, fucking you, using you.
“Whose are you?” I ask, speeding my thrusts, your wet little snatch
taking all of me.
“Yours Master, yours!” You tell me, body open beneath me, feeling me
stretch you, fill you.
And then I see your face change, tense, and your flesh spasms around me.
You are cumming, cumming on my cock for the very first time.
My sweet little girl is cumming.
The thought is too much and I feel myself explode in your wet hot cunny, my
seed spurting into you, the pleasure indescribable, my hips still pumping,
still fucking you.
When I am aware of the room again, of you beneath me, I open my eyes,
looking down at you. A small smile rests on your lips.
“Good girl,” I say, leaning down to kiss you, “Such a very good girl.”
~~~
The dark of her eyes, mysterious and moody. The olive gold tan of her skin, shimmering in the light. The raven taking flight of her hair, when she moves her head. The hunger in her words, written and spoken.
I had wanted her, lusted for it, and now I would know.
She is mine for the night. Another mans yes, another mans love, lust, joy. But there was the pact, reasons of our own, and she has arrived here, for me, in a little black dress and heels.
He sits in the car, watching her walk up the stoop. I cannot put myself in him, for I could never imagine the will to share such a prize. But I am not he, and I am not complaining.
She approaches, a little tentative, as I wait. The swish of her hips makes me so hungry to push her down into the grass, and pump my lust out beneath the hem of that dress, beneath the street lights.
I take her hand, tip my head towards him, and kiss her cheek. He watches.
Her eyes meet mine, and I see that she is unsure. New territory.
“This way,” I say, smiling, one hand finding the small of her back, the other her wrist, ushering her into my domain.
I close the door and turn to her.
My back to the cool wood I face her and notice in the light that there are highlights in her hair, a lighter color, mixing the black to a rich dark brown. Her shoulders are bare, and her cleavage shows the curve of fresh womanhood.
“You have a nice home,” She says, a smile on lush lips.
I smile back, pull her to me, a hug, my fingers trailing down her side. My mouth finds her neck, my fingers trail to the hem of the dress. Her breath escapes quickly, warm in my hair.
A perfect thigh, skin smooth and warm, and then the hem of her panties, silken and smooth.
‘Oh,” she whispers, surprised by my suddenness.
My hand finds the rough caress of hair through the soft material, and my face sinks into her cleavage, savoring her warmth.
‘So quick,” she says softly, as I slip into the leg band, feeling hot, soft pussy.
“You came here to be fucked,” I tell her, slipping between lips, feeling the bud of her clit, swollen and wanting.
“Yeesssss…” She hisses, as I gently begin to stroke her pearl.
“Oh yes, like that,” I watch her lick her lips, lean back to see her eyes hood slowly shut.
“You need to be used, don’t you Baby?” I say, slowly turning her to the side.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” She replies, again licking her lips, her face so dreamy.
I push her back a little, into the window frame, the sheer drapes caressing the back of her neck, her legs.
My free hand finds her butt, lifts her to the frame, and then slides up her back to her neck, cradling.
“Tell me,” I say softly in her ear, finding the hole in her sweet little snatch and slowly touching it.
“Oh I need to be used, there.” She says, eyes flitting open.
“No. Tell me,” I say more sternly, moving her head to meet my eyes.
“I need to be fucked there,” she answers, and I cover her mouth with mine, tongue plunging, tasting, taking her mouth with deep thrusts.
She moans through my kiss and I let her neck go to free myself from my trousers. I am on fire, so hard, my cock angry in my hand, wanting, demanding.
She leans back against the panes of glass, the curtain parted now, but I don’t care as I pull the crotch of her lingerie aside and step deeper between her legs.
One of her little hands slips into the neckline of the dress, rubbing her nipples, while the other finds the back of my neck, holding tight.
I feel the tip of me against rough hair, soft skin, wet cunt. That material is delicate, but rough on my penis. I feel her lips, feel them cradle me for a moment, and I pause, knowing what is to come.
She kisses my neck gently, breath so warm, lips like velvet.
I plunge in, not gentle, not slow, but insistent and fast, filling her as deep as I can.
‘OH GOD,” She calls out, feeling me lance into her.
I find her hips, pull down, and her pussy slides down my dick, flesh protesting, but filled to the base.
We are one then, united, one hot, stiff, trembling mass. A long moment of pleasure, of intimacy, frozen in time.
My eyes try to focus out the window and then slide shut, as all of me fixates on the incredible snugness of the core of her.
Then her nails dig into the back of my neck and I tighten my grip on her hips, rolling my own into her, thrusting fast, a short little stroke, fucking into her.
It’s heaven. So fucking tight, so fucking hot, pleasure all around me.
“You need this, to be used,” I say harshly, breath labored, working her hips back and forth on my cock, hard and fast, keeping myself buried as deep as I can in her tight little love tunnel.
“I need it!” She cries, nails raking my back through my shirt, pumping her cunny up and down on my cock.
“You need to be fucked, don’t you slut!’ I yell, so hungry for it, feeling so powerful, plunging into her, using her body for my lust, taking it all out in her, on her.
“I need to be fucked! Oh fuck your slut, fuck me, fuck me!” She calls, and I do.
‘look at me!” I say, and her eyes shoot open, pools of deep emotion. “look at me making you my slut!”
And I can see it, see her cum, in those eyes, a moment before her body begins to shake, before her hands lock painfully on me, before her cunt locks down on my cock with a death grip.
And she is whimpering, some animalistic mumbling, as I piston into her, each thrust causing another cry, and I am exploding, filling her, deep geysering jets of my seed spilling into her.
For a long moment then we are joined, together, one being again, and still. I feel myself throbbing in her, my body trying to push more jism into her sopping wet cunny.
I pull her against me, hug her, whisper in her ear “That was lovely, so lovely.” As she buries her face in my chest.
My mouth finds her flesh, kissing hungrily.
"Shhhh," She says, "we have all night."
Only then do we hear him pull away.
~~~
Coming Home
It’s all quiet as I enter our apartment. The sun bakes at my back as I escape the heat into the cocoon of our air conditioning.
I step lightly, as there is no noise. The television is off, and so are all the lights.
In the doorway to the bedroom I can see you, lying still on the bed, asleep. I look at you, at your tan legs, splayed a little, at your sweet curved ass, barely hidden under little cotton panties.
I know what will happen as I feel the stir in my pants.
I unbuckle my belt, as you shift a little towards your side, your hair spilling out around you like inky tendrils. The material makes a soft sound, falling to the floor. I step out of my shoes, remembering your cries from last night.
You are so very sexy, your sounds, your sighs.
I slide onto the bed carefully, so as not to wake you. My hands slip onto the backs of your hips, slowly sliding the back of your panties down to reveal the cleft of your golden ass.
So inviting, so sexy, so spicy. I savor this for a moment, my own personal little piece of ass. You are lovely.
I cover you then, my hands on your shoulders as you come awake.
“Master?” You whisper, fear in your voice.
I kiss the back of your head, sliding my cock into the cleavage of your butt.
“Shhh Baby, Daddy is here,” I whisper, feeling the rough thatch of your pubic hair against my hard flesh.
I roll you flat, and feel the heat of your body against my chest, my stomach.
“Yes Daddy,” you whisper.
My cock slips between your puffy little pussy lips, and I feel your wetness mingle with my own.
“Oh Daddy, I feel you!” You say as my dick finds your hot little hole.
“Be a good girl and take Daddies love.” I say, slowly sliding into you.
You are hot around me, a molten sheath, taking all of me, so tight in your grip.
“Oh oh oh,” You cry, as I push in deeper, stretching you, spreading you wide, filling you.
“Take it baby,” I hiss, thrusting in hard for the first time, feeling your body give.
“Daddy it hurts!” You cry, and I feel you squirm, trying to get away.
“TAKE IT BABY.” I say louder, thrusting in again, to punish you for trying to flee.
“Yes Daddy, Oh oh!” You call, as I pin you down and pump into you, rolling my hips, fucking you.
You feel so good beneath me, all around me, as I pound into you, speeding up, feeling the lure of explosion so close.
“Oh Daddy I feel it!” You writhe beneath me, trying to fuck back onto my cock, your hands pressed against the wall, pushing back.
“What Baby?” I ask, trying to hold the pace, feel the pleasure, keep it inside me.
“It feels good!” You cry, trapped beneath me, body so hot, cunt so tight, full of my cock.
We struggle that way, together, me punching into your soft little cunny, you pushing back, trying to take me deeper, wanting more.
“Be a good Little Girl and get fucked.” I tell you, hands caressing the velveteen skin of your back.
“I’ma good girl Daddy, I’m good!” You whimper, helpless to escape the pleasure, helpless to increase it.
I feel us so slick together, both desperate, building, building.
“Daddy please!” You cry and I whisper back “Cum!” feeling you rock beneath me, your soft little girl cum cries in my ears.
“Oh oh ohhhhhhhh!”
And it is enough, too much, pushing me over the brink. My cock swells, pumping my seed deep into you, throbbing with the pulse of my lust for you.
And I collapse beside you, pulling you to me, knowing that you are, and will always be, my good little girl
~~~
It was at a party.
I’d been celibate for quite some time, wallowing in my failure in love. I’d started a new job, and this was a party full of a co-workers college friends. I chatted a bit, drank, but mostly just lurked, feeling vicariously alive from all of the people having a good time.
There is a woman there, a girl. She is blond, with kinks in her hair. She is alive. She dances, careful not to let the Rolling Rock longneck she carries spill. Her skirt is tan, and knee length. She shakes what her mama gave her to some bad eighties nostalgia song.
I fight my way through the surf of bodies to the bathroom to take a piss. In the hallway, afterwards, a girl is leaning with her forehead against the darkened hallway wall. It is her, the dancer.
“It’s available.” I say, pointing my thumb at the bathroom.
She turns to me, sweet beer breath against my cheek, brown eyes heavy, and kisses me. It is a wet, hungry kiss. I find myself kissing back, deep, thrusting, hungry tongue kisses. My hands find her side, her hips, pressing her into the wall.
“You watched me,” she whispers breathily.
I want her, want her more than air. I kiss her neck, my hands slide under the thin sweater, rolling her bra up over the top of her chest.
‘You were watching, I saw you…” she says, hands in my hair as I suck her tits.
Someone shoves by us to use the bathroom, and I am aware again of the press of people only a few feet down the hall. Drunken chanting about the roof on fire surrounds us.
I slide down the wall, find a room, it’s dark, I feel her against me, hot flesh, clothes, sweat.
She is kissing me, and I press her against a dresser? Pushing her up. Her legs come apart and my hand finds a panty-covered mound, coarse hair through thin cotton. I massage her, feel her wetness through the cloth.
“Cock,” She whispers breathily in my ear.
I fumble with my fly, pull myself out, hot and throbbing and sticky already from desire. I have no thoughts of risk or danger, no love, no attachment. I push the panties to the side, feel a thick, hairy bush and fat, swollen lips.
I thrust in, pushing deep, picking her up with the motion. She cries out, hands pulling my hair, my face buried in her chest.
“Use me, oh god!” She gasps, and I roll my hips, pumping cock into her wet, hot hole, feeling again that wonderful unity.
The dresser is slamming against the wall with each thrust and I feel so alive, so very alive, the pulse of her wetness gripping me so tightly, slamming into her, using her, fucking her, fucking all of them.
And I freeze, try to hold the end away, feel her body tighten around me and shiver, and I explode into her, deep, my whole soul jetting out of me, buried in her.
We are locked there for a piece of time, a small, breathy, heaving shared silence.
She is Sarah, mother of two, and teacher of children in the fourth grade. Her husband is Dan, my co-worker. The Christmas party was awkward that year.
~~~
jobexchange
She was beautiful, but then they all are.
She wanted a job, wanted one so badly that she had called me, sent me a card, and begged for an interview. I had an opening, but I also had more than fifty experienced applicants, and she was fresh out of college.
When she e-mailed that she was going to be in town anyway (yeah, right) I relented, and allowed an interview.
She had beautiful blue eyes, dark, dark brown hair, and pale, soft, creamy skin. I found myself drawn to her, so I gave her fifteen minutes before passing her off to a middle manager for a tour of the place.
She had energy, spunk, everything you’d want in an employee-but no experience. It was a refreshing conversation, but I had a lot of work to do.
Yet I kept my eye out the window for her as she passed by. She was quite attractive.
Just before lunch my assistant ushered her back in.
“Well Miss Curry, you’ve impressed me.” I told her, as she sat in the big oxblood leather chair in front of me, hands on her knees.
“I have a few more candidates to interview, but I have your resume in my pile. And if this doesn’t work out, I’ll keep it on file. I’m sure you’ll get a job in the industry before too long. Have a safe trip home, and enjoy your weekend!” I started to stand, to offer her my hand over the desk, but her bottom lip began to tremble.
It was obvious that she knew this job wasn’t going to her.
“Was there something else Erica?” I asked, settling back down in my chair. I hated this part.
‘It’s just that, I can see myself working here, thriving here Sir, and I, I want you to know that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do, almost anything, to get this job.”
Those words raced through my mind. This was very dangerous ground we were on. I eased back in my chair.
“It’s important to make yourself stand out from the other candidates Erica.” I told her. “Making this trip to come see us was a good effort, but this year there is so much competition for entry level positions, you’ve got to really show the boss that he’s getting the person who wants the job most.”
She leaned in against the desk at this, grasping for anything. “But I do Sir, I want this job more than anyone else!” She said, exuberantly.
I studied those cool blue eyes and then let my gaze shift down to the cleavage she was showing by leaning forward. I knew she knew what I was looking at.
“So then Erica, how are you going to show me how much you want this job?” I asked, being very careful with my words.
Her eyes locked on mine, and for a moment I thought she would run screaming from my office, and I had just flushed my whole career down the toilet over a little fantasy.
“Is, is there someplace more private that we can discuss this Sir?” She asked, eyes dropping to her hands.
“Of course.” I said, rising from my desk.
I walked down the hallway with her, pointing out this office and that, introducing her to a passerby, and acting as I always acted on interviews.
Then I slipped open the bathroom door and held it for her. She brushed past me softly. I stepped in, and locked the door.
It was bright, and there were a lot of mirrors. I walked over to the counter, turned and faced her. What would she do now?
She looked at me quietly, obviously nervous, a little blush to her neck. And then she knelt down in front of me, and I felt her hands fumble with my fly.
I put my own hands on the counter, and let her struggle a bit with the zipper.
Her hands were trembling as they reached into my boxers and slowly took my cock out. Just feeling her soft little hands on me made me throb. I looked down at her as she stared at it, slowly licking her lips, and taking a deep breath.
And then she took the head in her mouth and I heard all the air shoot out of my lungs. It was exquisite pleasure, soft, warm, sucking.
One of her hands found the base of my cock, palm cupping my balls, fingers slowly jerking. Her lips moved up and down the shaft of me, making a wet little popping sound each time they hit the head.
She slid back and forth, tongue teasing, licking my dick. She seemed tentative, but not a novice. It had been a long time since I’d gotten head in a bathroom from a pretty young college girl.
I could feel myself building to orgasm. I slid a hand onto the top of her head, speeding up her bobbing. She looked up at me with those innocent looking blue eyes and I smiled down at her.
“Good little cocksucker aren’t you?” Was all I could manage to whisper as she began to twirl her tongue around the tip of my dick.
And then I felt the cum in my balls boil up and splash into her, pulsing five times, and I held onto the counter and her head for dear life.
It was amazing.
She leaned against the front of my legs then, cock in her mouth, and I felt her swallow my seed. I caressed the back of her neck, not wanting her mouth off my flesh, and then slowly helped her to her feet.
She turned away, began to run water, and I watched her in the mirror, wiping her smeared lip rouge off with a wet paper towel.
“When you’re done I’d like to take you to lunch Ms. Curry, to discuss this position with you.” I said, putting my cock back in my pants, and zipping up.
Her face blossomed to a smile.
-----
My daughter is a whore. I'm not making a moral judgement, I'm telling you
the truth. I thought we had raised her right. I thought wrong.
I guess things started going bad between my wife and I when Caroline hit
high school. We'd fallen out of love with each other years before, but we
had still been a family. We were kind of like roommates who fucked every
month or so. It was a far cry from the bloom of love we'd had years before,
but two kids, three jobs and a second mortgage can do that to you. I guess
once the kids were young adults it just became too hard to keep up the
facade.
My son Greg was a football star, and involved in a lot of stuff at school.
He got a scholarship to a good college, and we were very proud of him.
Caroline was... different. She wore black a lot, and weird make up. Her
hair was always some weird ass color, and she wrote a lot of crap that she
called poetry. She got into piercings and tattoos, too. I wanted to snap
her into line but her mother wouldn't let me. So I backed off. I know, bad
father, but it just wasn't worth fighting with them both over.
So my marriage was in the shitter. I was still a relatively young guy, I
still had needs. I cruised the hooker scene, remembering good times from
back when I was young and in the corp, but now I just couldn't take the
risk of catching some deadly shit, no matter how horny I got. So I ended up
in strip clubs, mostly.
But strip clubs are just the ultimate prick tease. Naked woman, lots of
beer, and you are NOT getting laid. Still I went. It just made the want
worse in me though. So I started checking out the other, more seedy porno
places, out by the highway.
The Hideaway. Thats what it was called. It was kind of a Walmart for porn.
Movies, toys, magazines, really shitty lingerie. They had these booths
where you could watch a porno and jerk off. I did that a time or two, but
it just seemed pathetic.
They also had girlie booths. A girlie booth is a little room with a one way
mirror in it, and a phone. You pay a fee, and a girl goes into the room, on
the side that it's just a mirror. You sit on the other side, and tip her
through a slot in the wall, to show you her goods, to play with herself, to
talk dirty to you on the phone, while you jerk off.
So thats where I ended up. Hey, it was a real girl, even if they weren't
usually gorgous, and I always liked sexy talk. I got to see the goods, even
if I couldn't touch 'em. And it beat jerking off in the garage to some old
dusty porno mag.
I ended up going about twice a week, late at night. I spread the visits
out, just to keep me from going crazy with the blue balls. And as I went, I
got more comfortable with the scene.
So then the day comes when I get off of work early. Freedom. The wife
doesn't know. What to do? It's been a few days, so I head down to the
Hideaway, figuring I'd see a different girl maybe.
Boy was I right.
I sat in the booth, and got the phone. The girl came in. She was a
brunette, kind of short, with a big streak of burgundy highlight in her
hair. She had on a fishnet body stocking, and black high heels. That was
all. Nice firm titties pushed out through the netting, and big dusky rose
nipples showed nicely through on top of them. One of them was pierced, just
like her lip.
And further down, there was a nice furry black bush, the hairs all stiff,
pushing through the netting. Right above this was a tattoo of some kind of
flower.
It was my daughter Caroline.
She sat down and smiled at me, legs kind of spread. My fucking daughter.
She picked up the phone.
"Hey, who's there?" she asked.
The glass, the one way glass. Well now I knew it really was one way.
"D'Dean," I replied. God! Not Dad, Dean.
"Dean? You been here before, in these booths Dean?" She was smiling nice
now at me.
"Yeah. Yeah I've been here before. What's your name?"
"Cari. I'm Cari, Dean. Do you think I'm pretty Dean?" She leaned in to
the mirror.
I flinched. It was hard to remember they were one way mirrors.
"Yes Cari, I think you're very pretty," I said through the lump in my
throat.
"You want to see my titties Dean? They're very pretty too."
Oh god. I needed to get up, to leave. I was so shocked, not even angry. I
needed to leave.
"Y'yes Cari, I want to see your pretty titties."
"Then you gotta start tipping sweetie, okay?" She said, slowly rolling the
stocking off of her shoulders, letting her sweet little breasts hang like
pendulums.
I stuffed a few dollars through the hole. Her eyes darted to them, and then
back to me. She smiled, and licked her lips.
"For twenty more of those Dean, I'll put my legs up on that wall and push my
sweet little box up real close, and rub it until I get off. Would you like
that Dean? Would you like to see my sweet little honey tunnel, all pink and
hot and steamy?" Her voice was so sultry, so sexy. Jesus god.
I pushed a twenty through the slot. My cock was throbbing in my trousers.
This she stopped to pick up and tuck away. Then she stood, kicked off her
heels, and slid out of the mesh suit. She had a little gold ring through one
of her pussy lips.
She sat back down, and pulled the chair right up to the wall. She was
smiling the whole time. She leaned back, and put her feet on the glass. I
could see the dirty bottoms of them. The phone she set on her chest, just
above her tits. Then one hand began to play with the gold hoop through her
nipple, and the other slowly slid down her stomach, and towards her cunny.
I took out my cock. Oh god, I did.
Her fingers roamed through her pubic patch, so thick and full, more so than
her mother's. I imagined my hand there, touching her. She had a large
brown freckle on the inside of her thigh, right before the hair started. I
would remember that freckle forever now.
Her fingers spread thick, slick pussy lips, and showed me a dark pink
fuckhole. The whole time her tongue was working in and out of her mouth.
Her eyes, half closed, looked hooded, like a serpents.
I began to slowly jerk my cock.
I could see she was actually wet, like real life aroused, not like most of
the girls in this place, who just pretended. Her finger tip brushed her
clit, and she tensed, and then she began to slowly roll it.
"Oh yeah Dean, oh yeah. You're a bit older, aren't you Dean? Probably old
enough to be my Dad, huh Dean?"
"Yeah."
"That's okay Dean. I always liked older, more experienced men in my twat."
My cock was wet, so hard, as I worked my fist over it. Caroline began to
work a long blood red nailed finger into her cunny, still rubbing her clit
with the other hand.
"Oh Oh Dean, I wish you were in here right now," she said, thrusting her
finger deep into her cunt, "In my wet hot hole!"
I could see the pussy juice leaking out with each withdrawal of her finger.
She was slapping her mound a little with each thrust, her palm hitting it as
her finger tried to bottom out. She was getting rougher now, faster,
literally banging her little teenaged box.
"Oh Dean, you know to teach a little girl right, don't you big Dean?" She
slurred out sultrily.
I was so hard, like a steel bar, and I could feel that I was close, so
close. I squeezed harder, feeling the veins, feeling the ridges under my
palm, all itchy and hungry.
"You like Daddies Cari?" I whispered into the mouthpiece, cradled at my
neck.
"Oh yeah Daddy. Oh yeah! Oh Daddy, work my cunt, work it good and deep!"
It was too much. Her voice, her face, the words, that slender finger
slipping so wetly into the deep of her, over and over. I dropped a load of
jiz against the glass, panting.
"Oh oh oh oh OH!" She cried, finger working so fast, then stopping
suddenly, and her pussy muscles clenching around that finger.
She sat there for moment shaking, head against the glass, so close to me.
I wiped my dick off with the kleenex I should have cum into. Caroline stood
up, pushing her breasts against the glass.
"Was that good for you Daddy Dean?" She whispered, her voice sounding miles
away over the crappy phone speaker.
"Just Daddy," I said, 'And yeah, you were a good girl Cari."
She kissed the glass, and began to get dressed.
"Come back for me Daddy, promise?" She said, as she struggled back into the
mesh suit.
"I will baby, don't worry. I will," I said, hanging up the phone.
And I left. My mind boggled. What had I done? What the hell was she doing?
What was I to do now?
I went to a bar and had a beer. And then another. By the third I knew
exactly what I was going to do.
The next day i was back again at The Hideaway. Off of work early again. This
time I give the attendant at the counter a 10 and tell him, "I want Cari." He
takes it, and points to a booth.
Inside I quickly pull the camcorder out of my coat, and set it up in the
corner. Caroline comes into the room, on the other side of the mirror. She
is dressed the same as yesterday. In my mind the crotch of the mesh outfit
smells strongly of her pussy.
"It's Daddy," I tell her, setting the phone down next to the mic.
"Ahh Daddy!" She smiles at the wall, "I knew you'd come back for your little
girl."
"Show Daddy your goods Cari," I say, pushing two twenties through the slot.
And the show started.
A few days passed. I waited. the day, d-day, daughter day, my wife was off
to work, and Caroline was running late. I was sitting in the living room watching
the tape, as she came barreling through for the door.
"...I need your man meat Daddy, I need it in my pussy!..." She is saying,
on the tape, wiggling her ass in my face.
I heard her stop in the room, just behind me.
"Oh fuck," she whispered.
"...oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!..."
She grabbed for the remote, to make it stop. I yanked it away, and snatched her
wrist, pulling her down into my lap.
"What the fuck!" she yelled.
My slap cut her off, knocking her off my lap, onto the floor at my feet.
I snatched a handful of her long red and black hair. She was wearing some kind
of black sweater, a red plaid mini-skirt, and black fishnet stockings.
Black fishnet.
"...Oh oh oh god yes it feels so good..." She glared up at me with those
egyption make-up eyes.
"This is how it is 'Cari'," I whispered to her, my voice bitter, holding her
by the hair, "You are busted. You do as I say now, or I'll give a copy of
that tape to the police, and have that place shut down for under-aged girls."
I was so angry.
"...And I'll give another one to your mother so you'll be out on the street."
I felt powerful, torn, but crystal clear.
"...And I'll give a third copy to the evening news so the whole fucking city knows
what a fucking slut you are." I was beet red now.
"And then I'll sell copies of the damned thing on E-Bay. Got it?"
She felt so warm against me, the heat of her eyes burned into me. She
nodded affirmative.
"...Oh oh oh Daddy I think I'm gonna cummmmmm......"
"Answer me," I hissed.
"I understand," she said quietly.
"Daddy."
"I understand...Daddy."
"...oh sugar you are so good to me I wish I could climb through that glass
and just eat you up..."
"Now take out my cock and suck it Caroline."
Her eyes met mine, some emotion there, almost for a moment as if she
were going to cry. Wetness welled up in the corner, and then one lone line
of smeared mascera slid slowly down her cheek.
"...You come back to me real soon Daddy, won't you..."
I felt her hands on my crotch, heard the zipper. Cold flesh on my hot flesh.
"Answer me Girl," I said calmly.
"Yes Daddy. I'll suck your cock now Daddy."
I felt her breath, and a tear touch me, before her lips. They were
tentative, then a little more firm. I pushed my cock past them, feeling her
tongue squirm. I yanked her head up and down on my dick harshly for a few
thrusts and then let go. there was an awkward moment, and then she took up
the pace I'd set.
I rewound the tape, and let it play again.
"Show Daddy your goods Cari," my voice said from the tv.
I smelled myself, strongly, wafting up from my lap. She was bouncing up and
down on me efficiently, like a whore I once bought back when I was in the
service, in the Philipines.
"...Oh you like my little titties pressed against the glass, don't you
Daddy?....Yes, yes I do Cari, now play with them for me...that's it..."
Her mouth so hot, wet, her tongue efficient. Then it hit me, my daughter is a whore.
She has done this before. Perhaps even for money. But now she's my whore, I think.
It's exquisite, the pleasure. My daughter, my own flesh, my prostitute, my
little whore.
"...It's alright if I touch my little hole, isn't it Daddy? That wouldn't
be a bad girl thing to do would it?...."
I threow her off my cock, to the floor, and fell on her, pinning her. The
smell of me, of my cock, was on her breath. I pushed her thighs apart, pulling
her ass towards me.
"Talk like that. Talk like that!" I yelled at her, slapping her face. She
looked up at me, half scared, make up smeared, shaking.
"Please use my little hole Daddy. Please fuck me." She said. And then a
smile crept onto her face.
"...Oh it feels so good Daddy, does it look good? Does it look hot for you
Daddy?..."
"Does it?" She asked me.
"Yeah. Yeah it does," I push her skirt up, thrusting my hands between her
thighs. I found fishnet and hairy pussy. Dripping wet.
The fishnet tore and I felt fat full lips on the tip of my cock. I wasted
no time, feeling her wetness, her heat, thrusting in, hard and harsh,
burying my meat in her.
"...I need your man meat Daddy, I need it in my pussy!..."
"Oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!" she called up to me, her
hands tearing my shirt open.
"oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!..." on the tape.
"Oh god Daddy, oh oh oh yes it feels so good!" She cried beneath me.
"...Oh oh oh god yes it feels so good..."
I felt my nut sack slamming against her ass. Her pussy was so firey, I could
barely stand it, her grunting and fucking back, her hips bucking wildly.
I just pounded her, thinking of nothing but to cum, to cum deep in this whore,
my baby girl whore.
I felt her nails rake me, pain, and I slammed my cock harder into her,
faster, trying to hurt her, trying to punish her, trying to fuck the demon
out of her, out of me, that makes us be this way.
"...oh sugar you are so good to me I wish I could climb through that glass
and just eat you up..."
"Oh oh oh oh ohgawd yes yes yes!" And I felt her snatch contract around me,
squeezing me so tight, her whole body shaking, and it ripped my own orgasm
out of me, a rush of bright light in my eyes as I spray the inside of her
sweet tight beaver with my juice.
I laid there panting then for some time, and then slowly I felt my cock
shrink and fall out of her. I looked down at her, expecting anger. She
grabbed my face, and kissed me hungerly.
"You come back to me real soon Daddy, won't you?" she said, in sync with the
voice on the tape.
"Yeah," I say softly, looking down at my little whore.
----
The dress you wear is white, pure like you feel to me, and I can see the curve of your breasts through the top.
So lovely, your eyes looking up at me, the shine of your hair from this light, as I feel your hands on the hard muscle of my thighs.
Your cheek, soft as silk, brushes slowly on the inside of my thigh. You know I am watching you. You feel my eyes, adoring and hot, love and lust, locked on your face.
“Kiss it,” I tell you, and I see your eyes flip down to my cock, slowly stiffening from the scent of your hair.
“Yes Sir,” You answer, and the heat of your breath makes me twitch.
You hands find me, gently grasp, and your lips brush so softly on the tip.
“I adore you,” I whisper.
“Thank you Sir,” You answer, and your fingers tighten about the shaft of me.
So powerful to have you at my whim, and yet so helpless to be in your grasp. I am who I am, who I must be, and I take control.
“Whose are you?” I ask firmly.
“Yours Sir,” You answer, voice as sweet to my ears as the first time you spoke to me.
“What are you?” I ask, reciting the beginning of our litany.
“Your Slut, your Slave, your love,” You say, just as I have taught you.
My chest tightens. I am so very proud of you.
“What are you for?” I whisper, my voice a little raspy?
“I’m for fucking Sir.” You answer.
“Say it again,” I say.
“I’m for fucking Sir, for you to fuck.” You reply.
“And sucking? Are you a good little cock sucker?” I ask, my flesh stiffening against the soft pads of your hand.
“I’m a good little cock sucker sir. I’m whatever you want me to be.”
I run a hand through your hair, think of our beginning, the path we’ve taken, and I give a little pull.
Your lips find me, the first touch so exquisite, so intimate. I feel you take me in slowly, the warmth of it, the heat, the brush of your cheeks against me.
My hand tightens on your head, and you began to slowly slide back off of me, the air hitting wet skin as you retreat.
‘Take it!” I hiss, and you suck me back in, your hand gripping the shaft of me tight, your lips dragging up and down my dick, the brush of your hair against my stomach.
I speed up your pace with my hand, push in deeper, feel you milking me, you hand beginning to slide up and down, your mouth on the head, sucking hard.
The feeling, like lightning in my veins, so good, but just on the cusp of so much better and I find both hands on your head, fingers wrapped in your beautiful hair, sliding your head up and down my meat.
I bite the inside of my mouth, taste salt and feel the pain, but it is not enough and I am crying out anguished “Oh’s” as I explode in your mouth, filling it with seed.
We are locked there for an eternity, my hands on your head, my whole life pouring into you, as you gulp to take it all in.
Then I free you and you climb into my arms.
“You are such a good girl,” I whisper, "such a good girl."
-----
She was a pretty little brunette, and she liked to show off.
I found her at a cam site, one of those free lure you in sites, with normal girls on free webcams, and then a fee for chatting with nasty porn cyber cam girls. I wasn’t interested in porn. I’d always found the webcam fascinating, this tiny box that let a million strangers into your room, and into your life.
I’d rushed out and bought one, but once installed I never turned it on. Too paranoid I guess. Too private, I didn’t even like the unplugged cam to be pointed at me.
But I watched them. I watched them at work, on a little pop up window. I watched them at home full screen. I didn’t have a girlfriend, I had Hundreds. I got to know them, saw their personal sites, saw their writing, their thoughts, their dreams. I especially liked the ones who lived in my state. I always daydreamed of writing them, going to see them, striking up a romance.
I never chatted with the whores. I never even went to chat rooms. I was just too shy. But I had my favorites, and I feel like I knew them very well.
I knew when they were playing sad music, even with no sound at all, by their eyes, and their clothes. I knew when they were happy, by their posts and there faces. I watched them when they slept, if they left the cam on.
And sometimes, so late at night that it was more accurately early, sometimes those pretty little girls would show a bit more flesh, or if the mood struck them, a lot more. Kittenkam was one of them.
That was her handle; she never showed her real name. Not even on her Personal site, with the picture of her friends from band camp, Her little dog peaches, and her white bread boring parents. The pictures all had cute little captions like “I luv Bobz!!!” and “Good Timez on da Bus”.
Kitten became my favorite. I book marked her, checked in on her often, Monitored her. I figured out her schedule, when she would be on, and when she wouldn’t. I knew when she was happy, when she was not, when she did poorly in school, when she broke up with Bob Z.
And on those nights, usually weekend nights, when she was up way too late for a girl her age, I would run a disc, so as to not miss the mood.
At first the mood was just, “look at my newly pierced belly button”. Perhaps innocent enough, but it piqued my interest. The white breads had let her do that?
Then the mood became, I’m going to dance a bit, all by myself, in my bra and panties, for the whole world to see. It was in one of these moods, with the normally tight head shot opened up to a wide view of a stark white room with a cat box in the corner, that I noticed quite clearly past a floral bikini covered butt, the “I’m the proud parent of an honor student at Marietta High School” bumper sticker on the wall.
I’d driven past that school a hundred times, without even knowing. Knowing kitten was so close kind of made me...obsessed. A friend of mine in high school had dated a girl from that school.
I would get up in the mornings and check the Kitten disc. Sometimes there would be nothing, sometimes just her studying. Once there was a sleepover. I kept them all. And then one morning, sucking down last night’s coffee, I popped in the disc and saw
Perfect, round little button nipples. Oh god.
She had been dancing, in pajamas, and then slowly out of them. The expected pierced belly shot, and then suddenly, she began to turn around. The stills, every 15 seconds, gave the striptease a shudder effect. Very artistic. Her shoulders dropping, the cups sliding, her face coy and teasing, and then breasts, sweat sensual little teen-aged tits. She grew bolder, and pushed one into the cam. It was disappointingly dark, impossible to see.
I never left it to the disc after that. I stayed up, slept just after work, when she was at band, or key club, or at Amy's house. That way I was sure I’d be there. There and ready, ready for anything. I’d rubbed one out over Kitten a hundred times before, but the act now took on an edge, a fevered pitch.
And then one night, Kitten joined me. She wouldn’t show, the coy little Minx, but there was no mistaking that something was different. She sat close to the camera, and quickly bared her chest. Her nipples were hard, and her breasts hung full and heavy. And then, cock in hand, I realized that her hand had sunken, out of screen, and that her eyes were hooded. I watched her lick her lips, watched her shoulders begin to shake, watched her gyrate.
She was rubbing off. Her face, so intense, so clear, eyes closed, lips parted, upper arm shaking, moving. I matched her rhythm, as if I were between those sweet little thighs, pushing my way into her, claiming her virginity.
Her nose wrinkled, her eyes scrunched up tight, and then she began to shake, softly, breath heavy and slow. And then she came.
It was fucking amazing. I blew a load so hard and so fast that I could barely catch it.
I was sad to see the cam go dead that night, the last frame, her sweet face holding peaches tight, captured with a “g’nite” message over it. I ran the disc back a hundred times. It was getting light before I even got to sleep.
And the next night she did it again. As things progressed, as days went by, it became more of a show. She still didn’t let me see the goods, but her face, her eyes, her actions showed that it was less about her, and more about me.
I say me, because it was then that I became aware that she must have an inkling, a clue that I was out here, watching her. She must. She wasn’t a slut, she was a nice girl. She wouldn’t just do that for the whole world.
That’s why she did it so late at night, when only she and I were up.
Maybe she loved me. She definitely wanted me.
It was a nice house. Big and sprawling, dark wood, and all one floor. Her father was an architect, perhaps he'd designed it. It bordered on a nice little park, where Kitten would sometimes meet Amy. They would swing on the swings, and talk, about stuff. I used to watch them, take photos, make sure no one bothered them.
And then one night I realized, up late, watching her in her little pink bra and panties, that she had gotten a headset phone. She was talking to someone, for a long time, on the bed. Amy? No it was swimming night for Amy.
She came to the cam, and waved. Waved at me? No, waved at someone. Someone else. Her smile was so sweet, but it wasn't for me.
And then she looked the way I knew she always looked, you know, before. Looking down, eyes a bit hidden, mischievous smile. I couldn't believe it.
Her hands to her shoulders. The straps sliding down. Ever refresh felt like hours. She was talking. Talking to him. And the bra came off.
Her eyes smiled then, at the screen. Then they looked surprised. Shocked, really. Then interested, deeply.
I watched. God help me I watched. I watched her cyber some total stranger down. No one from her site. No one from her life. Someone from out there, on the net. And she came for him, with him. Because of him.
I had been wrong. She was a slut. They all were sluts, deep down inside.
I new what to do. What had to be done. I waited. And watched. Weeks had gone by. My Kitten was a cyber whore. It hurt my heart. Each night, she and he, doing what they did. She would watch him, and pleasure herself.
The parents, he in a tuxedo, her in too much velvet, getting into the Lincoln. Amy was out somewhere, not home. Her bedroom window light was off, I'd checked. Just Kitten.
I was patient, gave it a little time. They had been gone twenty minutes when I left my car, pulse racing. The knit of the ski mask irritated my face.
The sliding glass door in the den came off it's track so easily. I could here her stereo, loudly playing some candy-assed pop song. Thick white carpet in the dining room. Very daring of them with a daughter.
She was there, in her room, so familiar, and yet turned inside out to me, seeing it from the other side for the first time. I stood in the doorway taking it all in. How odd it all seemed.
Then her eyes, glancing in the mirror, seeing me. I had seen the look of recognition so many times before from watching her I didn't even react. But she did, jumping up and running for the window. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Her scream so shrill. She sounded all wrong, not at all like I'd imagined.
I dragged her by the ankle back away from the window, onto her bed. She fought me, kicking. She was strong. My hand caught her on the cheek, hard.
Again. Again. Then she stopped screaming and seemed a little dazed.
Quickly I slipped a cord bundler over her wrists, and pulled it tight. The plastic cut into her skin a little. I had to be sure. Another bundler around the white metal headboard post. She was struggling again. I straddled her body, seeing the little silver dolphin charm dancing between the curves of her breasts. It was familiar. I felt better.
She kicked me hard, under the chin. I smelled blood, and saw little stars.
"Don't do that again Kitten, or I'll have to hurt Peaches." I told her
calmly.
She looked so confused.
"P'peaches? How do you know..."
I was straddling her now, and she was pinned. I leaned in close, smelling her girlish smell, deodorant and hairspray, flowery, pretty.
"About Peaches? I've watched her grow up. I've been watching you for so long Kitten." The look of shock on her face was priceless.
I went to the small bureau and got out some panties. They were right there, where I knew they would be. I came back to her, still looking dazed, hanging half off the bed by her wrists.
"You were..." I stuffed the panties in her mouth, and used a second pair to secure them.
She was squirming and kicking at me, a high pitched squeal coming through the cotton, but I was too close, too strong. I looped a finger through the gold hoop in her belly.
"This will hurt you a lot, if you don't stop struggling.". Her eyes, blue and glossy, got bigger, and she went limp.
"Yes I've been watching you. I know all about you. Since before Steve even." I could see the shock in those big blue eyes. I smiled, but she couldn't see it through the mask.
She pressed her pale little thighs together as I pulled her panties off.
She tried, but couldn't stop me.
"I've been watching you, watching you become a whore." I hissed, feeling months of devotion dashed to the floor.
"Little camwhore. But I'll show you." She began to struggle at this and I pulled on the hoop.
She cried out through the panties, and fought the urge to keep fighting.
Her little brown bush was peeking up through squirming legs. I used my knee to force her thighs apart. She had a pretty little pussy, hairy, soft, thin lips barely parted, barely showing through her muff.
"I'll show you what happens to camwhores." I told her, unzipping my pants.
Her thighs began to shake uncontrollably against the outsides of mine. She was shaking her head, and her eyes were pleading begging me not to. But I had to. I had to for her, to show her, to show her what could happen with such promiscuous behavior.
I looked down, saw him so angry and hard, standing erect, and for a moment I felt bad for her. For a moment. Then I began to push him against her snatch, getting her dry little cunny good and wet with precum.
She was mewing now, softly, her head rocking, and it was time. Time to show her how whores ended up.
I pushed in, the head of my cock wedging itself into that tight little opening. It felt soft and warm, and so very tight. More tight than I had imagined.
I kept her eyes with mine. She tried to close them, but I held them open with my thumbs. And I pushed in. There was a surprising amount of resistance. But I couldn't turn back now. I shoved hard, felt something
give, and sank into sweet heavenly soft virgin cunt, all the way. She screamed then, deflowered, through the gag, over the stereo, a low sad scream.
I pushed in again, feeling more wetness, and the pleasure of fucking. Oh god the pleasure. I could vaguely feel her trying to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. I let her eyes shut. She began to cry. I pushed in again, harder, holding her arms and pulling her back onto me.
Such a sweet pussy.
I vowed to not waste the moment, pushing in slowly, firmly, not rushing things. It was truly divine to be buried in her, the only one who had ever been there.
My nuts felt hard, and I sped up, humping her now, faster.
"Little camwhore, little fucking camwhore, does Amy know what a dirty slut you are? Amy is a good girl, isn't she? Not like you."
Something was boiling in me, building, like jerking off but a million times better. I began to use her faster, more brutally, fucking into her, using her, jerking my meat off into her. For she truly was at that moment, every fifteen seconds, a camwhore, and anyone could be watching.
It was sudden and shocking, a feeling so good I couldn't hold back and I grabbed her hips and slammed them against mine, once, twice, and then I felt my cock explode deep inside her soft, wet, hot little twat.
I lay on her, panting, listening to her whimpering, for a few minutes. I had to go, the clock was ticking and the camera was clicking too. I kissed her forehead, such a sweet little face, and whispered into her ear.
"Kitten, be a good girl now, you understand? Cause next time I won't be so gentle, you know? It wouldn't be right to go easy on you if you backslide."
Then I left, quickly.
It's still my favorite disk. I watch it all the time. Kittencam went black and never came back on-line. I felt sad for a while, really missing her.
She was so pretty, so sweet. But I have my disks. And I still have a hundred girlfriends. I just have to figure out now who my new favorite is.
-----
missed you
I stay in my car, watching the storefront for a long time in the dark. People flit in and out slowly, under the lights.
Finally I step out into the sea air, and walk towards the entrance. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, too long, face to face.
The noises of people and machines surround me, and I feel quite like the predator stalking his prey. I round a corner, near the back, and my eyes come upon you.
You are so beautiful to me.
I take that moment, stopping in my tracks, to savor you. The curve of your neck, the swell of your beautiful ample breasts. The hour glass effect of your waist, the swell of your womanly hips.
Even here, in this strange place, I adore your beauty.
You look up, eyes startled to see me, as I approach. The person you were helping fades away, and you step forward and whisper
“Master! What are you doing here?”
I smile at this, your little girl surprise, and in answer only point towards the door. It’s the “office”, a place you have described to me, a small, cluttered closet of a room.
We enter and you shut the door, looking up at me with those beautiful eyes.
“I can only,” You start, but my fingers stop you.
I caress your lips, so lush and soft, eyes locked on yours.
“Turn around,” I say softly.
“Yes Sir,” You say, looking pensive, but complying.
Now you are facing the old gray metal desk. My hand finds your back, slides up the thin material covering your flesh, and pushes your shoulders firmly down.
“Master?” You ask as you cheek presses against cool metal.
I unbutton your jeans then, the rough sound of the zipper filling the small space we share, and slide the denim off of your ass.
The pair of sweet little pale pink bikini panties you wear strains a bit against the round of your soft, sweet ass.
“What did I say?” I whisper, fingers trailing across the waistband of those panties.
‘Y’you said no panties today Sir, but…” You stop abruptly as I yank them down, baring your butt.
The first blow lands solidly on the left lobe of your ass, the pale cheek blooming pink as my hand comes away from it.
“Oh Master, I’m sorry!” You say, the pain in your voice touching me and arousing me at the same time.
The second lands with a slapping sound on the right cheek, my palm stinging and ears echoing.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” You tell me, as the third blow lands in the center of you butt, on the cleft of you, the pain shared by both sides.
My cock is twitching now, wanting you, wanting to be free and fucking. Your ass glows up at me, a hot pink sheen to it.
Whap!
“Master I’m Sorry!”
Crack!
“Oh god Master, oh!”
Whack!
“Please Master please!” This cry, the cry for relief, the cry I have taught you to beg for your cum.
“Cum!” I hiss, a bit shocked as you shake beneath me.
“You come from a spanking?” I whisper, unbuckling my pants and letting them drop.
“From your spanking Master, only you!”
I feel the soft flesh of you ass against my cock as it slips between your flesh, sliding down through soft pussy lips, finding your fuckhole.
“What are you for?” I ask, the tip of me poised against you.
“I’m for fucking!” You tell me, and I plunge into you, lunging deep, feeling your soft swollen sex part and give for me.
“Oh Oh Oh god.” You whimper, as I pump into you hungrily.
“Take it slut!” I hiss, lancing harder, angry and horny and wanting.
“I will Master Oh god!”
I’m sure anyone in the back row can hear but I don’t care. I’m a fucking machine, your pussy so slick, taking my cock, spread by it, stretched.
“I’m for fucking I’m for fucking!” You call, and I plunge in again, sinking deep, and explode.
Bright colors and blackness, my teeth locked together, I feel myself spasm within you, pumping seed inside you in pulsing spurts.
‘Oh thank you Master, thank you!’ You whisper as I slowly come around, feeling your back against my stomach.
I kiss your head, the soft hair there smelling like the ocean, and straighten.
“Good girl,” I whisper, “Now go back to work.”
~~~
The anticipation is all that I can bare.
I leave my car, enter the hotel, feeling the blood racing in my veins.
Last night we talked, like so many nights, sharing the intimacy, the
meeting of minds, your fresh, young thoughts corrupted beautifully by mine.
You were so excited about today, so happy, and I basked in that, loving
your joy.
These months we have known each other I have seen you blossom from an
unsure little bud into a breath-taking flower. You were a little girl
lost, and now you are my sweet slave.
I pick up my key at the desk, walk to the elevator, thinking of the sounds
of you, cumming in my ear last night.
I pause before the door, taking in a breath, steeling myself for the
moment. My watch tells me I am one minute early. I have given you
specific instructions, crafted this moment, and the thought of them, of you
meeting them, thrills me.
I use the key, open the door, seeing one light on in the sleeping chamber.
“Sir?” Your voice asks, fearful.
I walk towards the light.
“No Baby, Master is here.” I say, seeing you in the flesh for the very
first time.
You kneel on the corner of the bed, facing the door, just as I instructed.
Your lovely face holds a look of trepidation as my eyes sweep over you.
The hollow of your neck, the beautiful curve of your heavy breasts, hanging
low and bare, the locket I have sent you nestled in the cleavage.
The soft slope of your hips, so womanly, so fertile, the hidden valley of
your pubic mound, just barely visible between your lush thighs.
Our eyes meet, and I smile at you. You are perfection.
I walk forward, my hand finding your cheek, the skin there like velvet, so
soft. You rub your face against my hand like a cat.
“Good girl,” I whisper, leaning down a bit to smell your hair, the scent of
your soap and flesh, like orchids to me.
“Thank you M’Master.” You tell me, as my hand slides down the side of your
neck.
“Serve me,” I tell you, looking down with pride on you.
You are my hope, my dreams, the slave I will have, will nurture, will love.
“Yes Master,” You answer, eyes looking up at me, in wonder.
Your hands reach out, tentatively, finding the fly of my trousers, and
slowly unzipping. We have discussed this moment so many times, and yet
this will be the first time you hold my cock in your hands.
Gently you take it out, feeling it already stiffening in your grasp. My
fingers trail down, find your nipples, begin to slowly tug at them, lightly
pinch them. They come alive in my grip, stiffening like my cock.
Your kiss is light, tentative, and then I feel your mouth on me, kissing,
sucking. It’s heaven. I feel myself so hard now, like an iron rod, the
warmth of your lips, the electric pleasure of your tongue.
I squeeze your breast now, kneading them, feeling your big rosebud nipples
pushing against my palms.
It is too much, too soon, and I pull myself from your mouth, hands to your
shoulders, pushing you over backwards.
And I am on you, between your thighs, still fully clothed, not at all like
my plan. I find your neck and kiss it hungrily, tasting you, wanting you.
Your thighs part for my legs as my hands find you own, cover them, pin
them, fingers entwined.
“Beg me to fuck you.” I hiss in your ear, feeling the head of my
cock nestling against the smooth crease of your smooth, hairless pussy.
“Fuck me Master!” You cry, “Please fuck me!” And I do, sliding into you,
savoring the tight grip of your fresh little pussy.
I see you bite your lip, feel your hands grip mine more tightly, and I push
in, deeper, almost all the way. You are so tight, so soft, so wet around
me. Perfection.
I push again, a bit harder, and feel my balls brush the flesh of you ass as
my cock sinks into you all the way. Our eyes meet, lock for a moment, and
then you close yours, turn away a bit, feeling me inside you for the very
first time.
I buck into you, amazed that we are here, that you are my slave, my Flower,
my slut. My thighs against the backs of yours, my stomach brushing your
own, my hands on yours, fucking you, using you.
“Whose are you?” I ask, speeding my thrusts, your wet little snatch
taking all of me.
“Yours Master, yours!” You tell me, body open beneath me, feeling me
stretch you, fill you.
And then I see your face change, tense, and your flesh spasms around me.
You are cumming, cumming on my cock for the very first time.
My sweet little girl is cumming.
The thought is too much and I feel myself explode in your wet hot cunny, my
seed spurting into you, the pleasure indescribable, my hips still pumping,
still fucking you.
When I am aware of the room again, of you beneath me, I open my eyes,
looking down at you. A small smile rests on your lips.
“Good girl,” I say, leaning down to kiss you, “Such a very good girl.”
~~~
The dark of her eyes, mysterious and moody. The olive gold tan of her skin, shimmering in the light. The raven taking flight of her hair, when she moves her head. The hunger in her words, written and spoken.
I had wanted her, lusted for it, and now I would know.
She is mine for the night. Another mans yes, another mans love, lust, joy. But there was the pact, reasons of our own, and she has arrived here, for me, in a little black dress and heels.
He sits in the car, watching her walk up the stoop. I cannot put myself in him, for I could never imagine the will to share such a prize. But I am not he, and I am not complaining.
She approaches, a little tentative, as I wait. The swish of her hips makes me so hungry to push her down into the grass, and pump my lust out beneath the hem of that dress, beneath the street lights.
I take her hand, tip my head towards him, and kiss her cheek. He watches.
Her eyes meet mine, and I see that she is unsure. New territory.
“This way,” I say, smiling, one hand finding the small of her back, the other her wrist, ushering her into my domain.
I close the door and turn to her.
My back to the cool wood I face her and notice in the light that there are highlights in her hair, a lighter color, mixing the black to a rich dark brown. Her shoulders are bare, and her cleavage shows the curve of fresh womanhood.
“You have a nice home,” She says, a smile on lush lips.
I smile back, pull her to me, a hug, my fingers trailing down her side. My mouth finds her neck, my fingers trail to the hem of the dress. Her breath escapes quickly, warm in my hair.
A perfect thigh, skin smooth and warm, and then the hem of her panties, silken and smooth.
‘Oh,” she whispers, surprised by my suddenness.
My hand finds the rough caress of hair through the soft material, and my face sinks into her cleavage, savoring her warmth.
‘So quick,” she says softly, as I slip into the leg band, feeling hot, soft pussy.
“You came here to be fucked,” I tell her, slipping between lips, feeling the bud of her clit, swollen and wanting.
“Yeesssss…” She hisses, as I gently begin to stroke her pearl.
“Oh yes, like that,” I watch her lick her lips, lean back to see her eyes hood slowly shut.
“You need to be used, don’t you Baby?” I say, slowly turning her to the side.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” She replies, again licking her lips, her face so dreamy.
I push her back a little, into the window frame, the sheer drapes caressing the back of her neck, her legs.
My free hand finds her butt, lifts her to the frame, and then slides up her back to her neck, cradling.
“Tell me,” I say softly in her ear, finding the hole in her sweet little snatch and slowly touching it.
“Oh I need to be used, there.” She says, eyes flitting open.
“No. Tell me,” I say more sternly, moving her head to meet my eyes.
“I need to be fucked there,” she answers, and I cover her mouth with mine, tongue plunging, tasting, taking her mouth with deep thrusts.
She moans through my kiss and I let her neck go to free myself from my trousers. I am on fire, so hard, my cock angry in my hand, wanting, demanding.
She leans back against the panes of glass, the curtain parted now, but I don’t care as I pull the crotch of her lingerie aside and step deeper between her legs.
One of her little hands slips into the neckline of the dress, rubbing her nipples, while the other finds the back of my neck, holding tight.
I feel the tip of me against rough hair, soft skin, wet cunt. That material is delicate, but rough on my penis. I feel her lips, feel them cradle me for a moment, and I pause, knowing what is to come.
She kisses my neck gently, breath so warm, lips like velvet.
I plunge in, not gentle, not slow, but insistent and fast, filling her as deep as I can.
‘OH GOD,” She calls out, feeling me lance into her.
I find her hips, pull down, and her pussy slides down my dick, flesh protesting, but filled to the base.
We are one then, united, one hot, stiff, trembling mass. A long moment of pleasure, of intimacy, frozen in time.
My eyes try to focus out the window and then slide shut, as all of me fixates on the incredible snugness of the core of her.
Then her nails dig into the back of my neck and I tighten my grip on her hips, rolling my own into her, thrusting fast, a short little stroke, fucking into her.
It’s heaven. So fucking tight, so fucking hot, pleasure all around me.
“You need this, to be used,” I say harshly, breath labored, working her hips back and forth on my cock, hard and fast, keeping myself buried as deep as I can in her tight little love tunnel.
“I need it!” She cries, nails raking my back through my shirt, pumping her cunny up and down on my cock.
“You need to be fucked, don’t you slut!’ I yell, so hungry for it, feeling so powerful, plunging into her, using her body for my lust, taking it all out in her, on her.
“I need to be fucked! Oh fuck your slut, fuck me, fuck me!” She calls, and I do.
‘look at me!” I say, and her eyes shoot open, pools of deep emotion. “look at me making you my slut!”
And I can see it, see her cum, in those eyes, a moment before her body begins to shake, before her hands lock painfully on me, before her cunt locks down on my cock with a death grip.
And she is whimpering, some animalistic mumbling, as I piston into her, each thrust causing another cry, and I am exploding, filling her, deep geysering jets of my seed spilling into her.
For a long moment then we are joined, together, one being again, and still. I feel myself throbbing in her, my body trying to push more jism into her sopping wet cunny.
I pull her against me, hug her, whisper in her ear “That was lovely, so lovely.” As she buries her face in my chest.
My mouth finds her flesh, kissing hungrily.
"Shhhh," She says, "we have all night."
Only then do we hear him pull away.
~~~
Coming Home
It’s all quiet as I enter our apartment. The sun bakes at my back as I escape the heat into the cocoon of our air conditioning.
I step lightly, as there is no noise. The television is off, and so are all the lights.
In the doorway to the bedroom I can see you, lying still on the bed, asleep. I look at you, at your tan legs, splayed a little, at your sweet curved ass, barely hidden under little cotton panties.
I know what will happen as I feel the stir in my pants.
I unbuckle my belt, as you shift a little towards your side, your hair spilling out around you like inky tendrils. The material makes a soft sound, falling to the floor. I step out of my shoes, remembering your cries from last night.
You are so very sexy, your sounds, your sighs.
I slide onto the bed carefully, so as not to wake you. My hands slip onto the backs of your hips, slowly sliding the back of your panties down to reveal the cleft of your golden ass.
So inviting, so sexy, so spicy. I savor this for a moment, my own personal little piece of ass. You are lovely.
I cover you then, my hands on your shoulders as you come awake.
“Master?” You whisper, fear in your voice.
I kiss the back of your head, sliding my cock into the cleavage of your butt.
“Shhh Baby, Daddy is here,” I whisper, feeling the rough thatch of your pubic hair against my hard flesh.
I roll you flat, and feel the heat of your body against my chest, my stomach.
“Yes Daddy,” you whisper.
My cock slips between your puffy little pussy lips, and I feel your wetness mingle with my own.
“Oh Daddy, I feel you!” You say as my dick finds your hot little hole.
“Be a good girl and take Daddies love.” I say, slowly sliding into you.
You are hot around me, a molten sheath, taking all of me, so tight in your grip.
“Oh oh oh,” You cry, as I push in deeper, stretching you, spreading you wide, filling you.
“Take it baby,” I hiss, thrusting in hard for the first time, feeling your body give.
“Daddy it hurts!” You cry, and I feel you squirm, trying to get away.
“TAKE IT BABY.” I say louder, thrusting in again, to punish you for trying to flee.
“Yes Daddy, Oh oh!” You call, as I pin you down and pump into you, rolling my hips, fucking you.
You feel so good beneath me, all around me, as I pound into you, speeding up, feeling the lure of explosion so close.
“Oh Daddy I feel it!” You writhe beneath me, trying to fuck back onto my cock, your hands pressed against the wall, pushing back.
“What Baby?” I ask, trying to hold the pace, feel the pleasure, keep it inside me.
“It feels good!” You cry, trapped beneath me, body so hot, cunt so tight, full of my cock.
We struggle that way, together, me punching into your soft little cunny, you pushing back, trying to take me deeper, wanting more.
“Be a good Little Girl and get fucked.” I tell you, hands caressing the velveteen skin of your back.
“I’ma good girl Daddy, I’m good!” You whimper, helpless to escape the pleasure, helpless to increase it.
I feel us so slick together, both desperate, building, building.
“Daddy please!” You cry and I whisper back “Cum!” feeling you rock beneath me, your soft little girl cum cries in my ears.
“Oh oh ohhhhhhhh!”
And it is enough, too much, pushing me over the brink. My cock swells, pumping my seed deep into you, throbbing with the pulse of my lust for you.
And I collapse beside you, pulling you to me, knowing that you are, and will always be, my good little girl
~~~
It was at a party.
I’d been celibate for quite some time, wallowing in my failure in love. I’d started a new job, and this was a party full of a co-workers college friends. I chatted a bit, drank, but mostly just lurked, feeling vicariously alive from all of the people having a good time.
There is a woman there, a girl. She is blond, with kinks in her hair. She is alive. She dances, careful not to let the Rolling Rock longneck she carries spill. Her skirt is tan, and knee length. She shakes what her mama gave her to some bad eighties nostalgia song.
I fight my way through the surf of bodies to the bathroom to take a piss. In the hallway, afterwards, a girl is leaning with her forehead against the darkened hallway wall. It is her, the dancer.
“It’s available.” I say, pointing my thumb at the bathroom.
She turns to me, sweet beer breath against my cheek, brown eyes heavy, and kisses me. It is a wet, hungry kiss. I find myself kissing back, deep, thrusting, hungry tongue kisses. My hands find her side, her hips, pressing her into the wall.
“You watched me,” she whispers breathily.
I want her, want her more than air. I kiss her neck, my hands slide under the thin sweater, rolling her bra up over the top of her chest.
‘You were watching, I saw you…” she says, hands in my hair as I suck her tits.
Someone shoves by us to use the bathroom, and I am aware again of the press of people only a few feet down the hall. Drunken chanting about the roof on fire surrounds us.
I slide down the wall, find a room, it’s dark, I feel her against me, hot flesh, clothes, sweat.
She is kissing me, and I press her against a dresser? Pushing her up. Her legs come apart and my hand finds a panty-covered mound, coarse hair through thin cotton. I massage her, feel her wetness through the cloth.
“Cock,” She whispers breathily in my ear.
I fumble with my fly, pull myself out, hot and throbbing and sticky already from desire. I have no thoughts of risk or danger, no love, no attachment. I push the panties to the side, feel a thick, hairy bush and fat, swollen lips.
I thrust in, pushing deep, picking her up with the motion. She cries out, hands pulling my hair, my face buried in her chest.
“Use me, oh god!” She gasps, and I roll my hips, pumping cock into her wet, hot hole, feeling again that wonderful unity.
The dresser is slamming against the wall with each thrust and I feel so alive, so very alive, the pulse of her wetness gripping me so tightly, slamming into her, using her, fucking her, fucking all of them.
And I freeze, try to hold the end away, feel her body tighten around me and shiver, and I explode into her, deep, my whole soul jetting out of me, buried in her.
We are locked there for a piece of time, a small, breathy, heaving shared silence.
She is Sarah, mother of two, and teacher of children in the fourth grade. Her husband is Dan, my co-worker. The Christmas party was awkward that year.
~~~
jobexchange
She was beautiful, but then they all are.
She wanted a job, wanted one so badly that she had called me, sent me a card, and begged for an interview. I had an opening, but I also had more than fifty experienced applicants, and she was fresh out of college.
When she e-mailed that she was going to be in town anyway (yeah, right) I relented, and allowed an interview.
She had beautiful blue eyes, dark, dark brown hair, and pale, soft, creamy skin. I found myself drawn to her, so I gave her fifteen minutes before passing her off to a middle manager for a tour of the place.
She had energy, spunk, everything you’d want in an employee-but no experience. It was a refreshing conversation, but I had a lot of work to do.
Yet I kept my eye out the window for her as she passed by. She was quite attractive.
Just before lunch my assistant ushered her back in.
“Well Miss Curry, you’ve impressed me.” I told her, as she sat in the big oxblood leather chair in front of me, hands on her knees.
“I have a few more candidates to interview, but I have your resume in my pile. And if this doesn’t work out, I’ll keep it on file. I’m sure you’ll get a job in the industry before too long. Have a safe trip home, and enjoy your weekend!” I started to stand, to offer her my hand over the desk, but her bottom lip began to tremble.
It was obvious that she knew this job wasn’t going to her.
“Was there something else Erica?” I asked, settling back down in my chair. I hated this part.
‘It’s just that, I can see myself working here, thriving here Sir, and I, I want you to know that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do, almost anything, to get this job.”
Those words raced through my mind. This was very dangerous ground we were on. I eased back in my chair.
“It’s important to make yourself stand out from the other candidates Erica.” I told her. “Making this trip to come see us was a good effort, but this year there is so much competition for entry level positions, you’ve got to really show the boss that he’s getting the person who wants the job most.”
She leaned in against the desk at this, grasping for anything. “But I do Sir, I want this job more than anyone else!” She said, exuberantly.
I studied those cool blue eyes and then let my gaze shift down to the cleavage she was showing by leaning forward. I knew she knew what I was looking at.
“So then Erica, how are you going to show me how much you want this job?” I asked, being very careful with my words.
Her eyes locked on mine, and for a moment I thought she would run screaming from my office, and I had just flushed my whole career down the toilet over a little fantasy.
“Is, is there someplace more private that we can discuss this Sir?” She asked, eyes dropping to her hands.
“Of course.” I said, rising from my desk.
I walked down the hallway with her, pointing out this office and that, introducing her to a passerby, and acting as I always acted on interviews.
Then I slipped open the bathroom door and held it for her. She brushed past me softly. I stepped in, and locked the door.
It was bright, and there were a lot of mirrors. I walked over to the counter, turned and faced her. What would she do now?
She looked at me quietly, obviously nervous, a little blush to her neck. And then she knelt down in front of me, and I felt her hands fumble with my fly.
I put my own hands on the counter, and let her struggle a bit with the zipper.
Her hands were trembling as they reached into my boxers and slowly took my cock out. Just feeling her soft little hands on me made me throb. I looked down at her as she stared at it, slowly licking her lips, and taking a deep breath.
And then she took the head in her mouth and I heard all the air shoot out of my lungs. It was exquisite pleasure, soft, warm, sucking.
One of her hands found the base of my cock, palm cupping my balls, fingers slowly jerking. Her lips moved up and down the shaft of me, making a wet little popping sound each time they hit the head.
She slid back and forth, tongue teasing, licking my dick. She seemed tentative, but not a novice. It had been a long time since I’d gotten head in a bathroom from a pretty young college girl.
I could feel myself building to orgasm. I slid a hand onto the top of her head, speeding up her bobbing. She looked up at me with those innocent looking blue eyes and I smiled down at her.
“Good little cocksucker aren’t you?” Was all I could manage to whisper as she began to twirl her tongue around the tip of my dick.
And then I felt the cum in my balls boil up and splash into her, pulsing five times, and I held onto the counter and her head for dear life.
It was amazing.
She leaned against the front of my legs then, cock in her mouth, and I felt her swallow my seed. I caressed the back of her neck, not wanting her mouth off my flesh, and then slowly helped her to her feet.
She turned away, began to run water, and I watched her in the mirror, wiping her smeared lip rouge off with a wet paper towel.
“When you’re done I’d like to take you to lunch Ms. Curry, to discuss this position with you.” I said, putting my cock back in my pants, and zipping up.
Her face blossomed to a smile.
-----
My daughter is a whore. I'm not making a moral judgement, I'm telling you
the truth. I thought we had raised her right. I thought wrong.
I guess things started going bad between my wife and I when Caroline hit
high school. We'd fallen out of love with each other years before, but we
had still been a family. We were kind of like roommates who fucked every
month or so. It was a far cry from the bloom of love we'd had years before,
but two kids, three jobs and a second mortgage can do that to you. I guess
once the kids were young adults it just became too hard to keep up the
facade.
My son Greg was a football star, and involved in a lot of stuff at school.
He got a scholarship to a good college, and we were very proud of him.
Caroline was... different. She wore black a lot, and weird make up. Her
hair was always some weird ass color, and she wrote a lot of crap that she
called poetry. She got into piercings and tattoos, too. I wanted to snap
her into line but her mother wouldn't let me. So I backed off. I know, bad
father, but it just wasn't worth fighting with them both over.
So my marriage was in the shitter. I was still a relatively young guy, I
still had needs. I cruised the hooker scene, remembering good times from
back when I was young and in the corp, but now I just couldn't take the
risk of catching some deadly shit, no matter how horny I got. So I ended up
in strip clubs, mostly.
But strip clubs are just the ultimate prick tease. Naked woman, lots of
beer, and you are NOT getting laid. Still I went. It just made the want
worse in me though. So I started checking out the other, more seedy porno
places, out by the highway.
The Hideaway. Thats what it was called. It was kind of a Walmart for porn.
Movies, toys, magazines, really shitty lingerie. They had these booths
where you could watch a porno and jerk off. I did that a time or two, but
it just seemed pathetic.
They also had girlie booths. A girlie booth is a little room with a one way
mirror in it, and a phone. You pay a fee, and a girl goes into the room, on
the side that it's just a mirror. You sit on the other side, and tip her
through a slot in the wall, to show you her goods, to play with herself, to
talk dirty to you on the phone, while you jerk off.
So thats where I ended up. Hey, it was a real girl, even if they weren't
usually gorgous, and I always liked sexy talk. I got to see the goods, even
if I couldn't touch 'em. And it beat jerking off in the garage to some old
dusty porno mag.
I ended up going about twice a week, late at night. I spread the visits
out, just to keep me from going crazy with the blue balls. And as I went, I
got more comfortable with the scene.
So then the day comes when I get off of work early. Freedom. The wife
doesn't know. What to do? It's been a few days, so I head down to the
Hideaway, figuring I'd see a different girl maybe.
Boy was I right.
I sat in the booth, and got the phone. The girl came in. She was a
brunette, kind of short, with a big streak of burgundy highlight in her
hair. She had on a fishnet body stocking, and black high heels. That was
all. Nice firm titties pushed out through the netting, and big dusky rose
nipples showed nicely through on top of them. One of them was pierced, just
like her lip.
And further down, there was a nice furry black bush, the hairs all stiff,
pushing through the netting. Right above this was a tattoo of some kind of
flower.
It was my daughter Caroline.
She sat down and smiled at me, legs kind of spread. My fucking daughter.
She picked up the phone.
"Hey, who's there?" she asked.
The glass, the one way glass. Well now I knew it really was one way.
"D'Dean," I replied. God! Not Dad, Dean.
"Dean? You been here before, in these booths Dean?" She was smiling nice
now at me.
"Yeah. Yeah I've been here before. What's your name?"
"Cari. I'm Cari, Dean. Do you think I'm pretty Dean?" She leaned in to
the mirror.
I flinched. It was hard to remember they were one way mirrors.
"Yes Cari, I think you're very pretty," I said through the lump in my
throat.
"You want to see my titties Dean? They're very pretty too."
Oh god. I needed to get up, to leave. I was so shocked, not even angry. I
needed to leave.
"Y'yes Cari, I want to see your pretty titties."
"Then you gotta start tipping sweetie, okay?" She said, slowly rolling the
stocking off of her shoulders, letting her sweet little breasts hang like
pendulums.
I stuffed a few dollars through the hole. Her eyes darted to them, and then
back to me. She smiled, and licked her lips.
"For twenty more of those Dean, I'll put my legs up on that wall and push my
sweet little box up real close, and rub it until I get off. Would you like
that Dean? Would you like to see my sweet little honey tunnel, all pink and
hot and steamy?" Her voice was so sultry, so sexy. Jesus god.
I pushed a twenty through the slot. My cock was throbbing in my trousers.
This she stopped to pick up and tuck away. Then she stood, kicked off her
heels, and slid out of the mesh suit. She had a little gold ring through one
of her pussy lips.
She sat back down, and pulled the chair right up to the wall. She was
smiling the whole time. She leaned back, and put her feet on the glass. I
could see the dirty bottoms of them. The phone she set on her chest, just
above her tits. Then one hand began to play with the gold hoop through her
nipple, and the other slowly slid down her stomach, and towards her cunny.
I took out my cock. Oh god, I did.
Her fingers roamed through her pubic patch, so thick and full, more so than
her mother's. I imagined my hand there, touching her. She had a large
brown freckle on the inside of her thigh, right before the hair started. I
would remember that freckle forever now.
Her fingers spread thick, slick pussy lips, and showed me a dark pink
fuckhole. The whole time her tongue was working in and out of her mouth.
Her eyes, half closed, looked hooded, like a serpents.
I began to slowly jerk my cock.
I could see she was actually wet, like real life aroused, not like most of
the girls in this place, who just pretended. Her finger tip brushed her
clit, and she tensed, and then she began to slowly roll it.
"Oh yeah Dean, oh yeah. You're a bit older, aren't you Dean? Probably old
enough to be my Dad, huh Dean?"
"Yeah."
"That's okay Dean. I always liked older, more experienced men in my twat."
My cock was wet, so hard, as I worked my fist over it. Caroline began to
work a long blood red nailed finger into her cunny, still rubbing her clit
with the other hand.
"Oh Oh Dean, I wish you were in here right now," she said, thrusting her
finger deep into her cunt, "In my wet hot hole!"
I could see the pussy juice leaking out with each withdrawal of her finger.
She was slapping her mound a little with each thrust, her palm hitting it as
her finger tried to bottom out. She was getting rougher now, faster,
literally banging her little teenaged box.
"Oh Dean, you know to teach a little girl right, don't you big Dean?" She
slurred out sultrily.
I was so hard, like a steel bar, and I could feel that I was close, so
close. I squeezed harder, feeling the veins, feeling the ridges under my
palm, all itchy and hungry.
"You like Daddies Cari?" I whispered into the mouthpiece, cradled at my
neck.
"Oh yeah Daddy. Oh yeah! Oh Daddy, work my cunt, work it good and deep!"
It was too much. Her voice, her face, the words, that slender finger
slipping so wetly into the deep of her, over and over. I dropped a load of
jiz against the glass, panting.
"Oh oh oh oh OH!" She cried, finger working so fast, then stopping
suddenly, and her pussy muscles clenching around that finger.
She sat there for moment shaking, head against the glass, so close to me.
I wiped my dick off with the kleenex I should have cum into. Caroline stood
up, pushing her breasts against the glass.
"Was that good for you Daddy Dean?" She whispered, her voice sounding miles
away over the crappy phone speaker.
"Just Daddy," I said, 'And yeah, you were a good girl Cari."
She kissed the glass, and began to get dressed.
"Come back for me Daddy, promise?" She said, as she struggled back into the
mesh suit.
"I will baby, don't worry. I will," I said, hanging up the phone.
And I left. My mind boggled. What had I done? What the hell was she doing?
What was I to do now?
I went to a bar and had a beer. And then another. By the third I knew
exactly what I was going to do.
The next day i was back again at The Hideaway. Off of work early again. This
time I give the attendant at the counter a 10 and tell him, "I want Cari." He
takes it, and points to a booth.
Inside I quickly pull the camcorder out of my coat, and set it up in the
corner. Caroline comes into the room, on the other side of the mirror. She
is dressed the same as yesterday. In my mind the crotch of the mesh outfit
smells strongly of her pussy.
"It's Daddy," I tell her, setting the phone down next to the mic.
"Ahh Daddy!" She smiles at the wall, "I knew you'd come back for your little
girl."
"Show Daddy your goods Cari," I say, pushing two twenties through the slot.
And the show started.
A few days passed. I waited. the day, d-day, daughter day, my wife was off
to work, and Caroline was running late. I was sitting in the living room watching
the tape, as she came barreling through for the door.
"...I need your man meat Daddy, I need it in my pussy!..." She is saying,
on the tape, wiggling her ass in my face.
I heard her stop in the room, just behind me.
"Oh fuck," she whispered.
"...oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!..."
She grabbed for the remote, to make it stop. I yanked it away, and snatched her
wrist, pulling her down into my lap.
"What the fuck!" she yelled.
My slap cut her off, knocking her off my lap, onto the floor at my feet.
I snatched a handful of her long red and black hair. She was wearing some kind
of black sweater, a red plaid mini-skirt, and black fishnet stockings.
Black fishnet.
"...Oh oh oh god yes it feels so good..." She glared up at me with those
egyption make-up eyes.
"This is how it is 'Cari'," I whispered to her, my voice bitter, holding her
by the hair, "You are busted. You do as I say now, or I'll give a copy of
that tape to the police, and have that place shut down for under-aged girls."
I was so angry.
"...And I'll give another one to your mother so you'll be out on the street."
I felt powerful, torn, but crystal clear.
"...And I'll give a third copy to the evening news so the whole fucking city knows
what a fucking slut you are." I was beet red now.
"And then I'll sell copies of the damned thing on E-Bay. Got it?"
She felt so warm against me, the heat of her eyes burned into me. She
nodded affirmative.
"...Oh oh oh Daddy I think I'm gonna cummmmmm......"
"Answer me," I hissed.
"I understand," she said quietly.
"Daddy."
"I understand...Daddy."
"...oh sugar you are so good to me I wish I could climb through that glass
and just eat you up..."
"Now take out my cock and suck it Caroline."
Her eyes met mine, some emotion there, almost for a moment as if she
were going to cry. Wetness welled up in the corner, and then one lone line
of smeared mascera slid slowly down her cheek.
"...You come back to me real soon Daddy, won't you..."
I felt her hands on my crotch, heard the zipper. Cold flesh on my hot flesh.
"Answer me Girl," I said calmly.
"Yes Daddy. I'll suck your cock now Daddy."
I felt her breath, and a tear touch me, before her lips. They were
tentative, then a little more firm. I pushed my cock past them, feeling her
tongue squirm. I yanked her head up and down on my dick harshly for a few
thrusts and then let go. there was an awkward moment, and then she took up
the pace I'd set.
I rewound the tape, and let it play again.
"Show Daddy your goods Cari," my voice said from the tv.
I smelled myself, strongly, wafting up from my lap. She was bouncing up and
down on me efficiently, like a whore I once bought back when I was in the
service, in the Philipines.
"...Oh you like my little titties pressed against the glass, don't you
Daddy?....Yes, yes I do Cari, now play with them for me...that's it..."
Her mouth so hot, wet, her tongue efficient. Then it hit me, my daughter is a whore.
She has done this before. Perhaps even for money. But now she's my whore, I think.
It's exquisite, the pleasure. My daughter, my own flesh, my prostitute, my
little whore.
"...It's alright if I touch my little hole, isn't it Daddy? That wouldn't
be a bad girl thing to do would it?...."
I threow her off my cock, to the floor, and fell on her, pinning her. The
smell of me, of my cock, was on her breath. I pushed her thighs apart, pulling
her ass towards me.
"Talk like that. Talk like that!" I yelled at her, slapping her face. She
looked up at me, half scared, make up smeared, shaking.
"Please use my little hole Daddy. Please fuck me." She said. And then a
smile crept onto her face.
"...Oh it feels so good Daddy, does it look good? Does it look hot for you
Daddy?..."
"Does it?" She asked me.
"Yeah. Yeah it does," I push her skirt up, thrusting my hands between her
thighs. I found fishnet and hairy pussy. Dripping wet.
The fishnet tore and I felt fat full lips on the tip of my cock. I wasted
no time, feeling her wetness, her heat, thrusting in, hard and harsh,
burying my meat in her.
"...I need your man meat Daddy, I need it in my pussy!..."
"Oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!" she called up to me, her
hands tearing my shirt open.
"oh Daddy work my little twat! Work it so good!..." on the tape.
"Oh god Daddy, oh oh oh yes it feels so good!" She cried beneath me.
"...Oh oh oh god yes it feels so good..."
I felt my nut sack slamming against her ass. Her pussy was so firey, I could
barely stand it, her grunting and fucking back, her hips bucking wildly.
I just pounded her, thinking of nothing but to cum, to cum deep in this whore,
my baby girl whore.
I felt her nails rake me, pain, and I slammed my cock harder into her,
faster, trying to hurt her, trying to punish her, trying to fuck the demon
out of her, out of me, that makes us be this way.
"...oh sugar you are so good to me I wish I could climb through that glass
and just eat you up..."
"Oh oh oh oh ohgawd yes yes yes!" And I felt her snatch contract around me,
squeezing me so tight, her whole body shaking, and it ripped my own orgasm
out of me, a rush of bright light in my eyes as I spray the inside of her
sweet tight beaver with my juice.
I laid there panting then for some time, and then slowly I felt my cock
shrink and fall out of her. I looked down at her, expecting anger. She
grabbed my face, and kissed me hungerly.
"You come back to me real soon Daddy, won't you?" she said, in sync with the
voice on the tape.
"Yeah," I say softly, looking down at my little whore.
----
The dress you wear is white, pure like you feel to me, and I can see the curve of your breasts through the top.
So lovely, your eyes looking up at me, the shine of your hair from this light, as I feel your hands on the hard muscle of my thighs.
Your cheek, soft as silk, brushes slowly on the inside of my thigh. You know I am watching you. You feel my eyes, adoring and hot, love and lust, locked on your face.
“Kiss it,” I tell you, and I see your eyes flip down to my cock, slowly stiffening from the scent of your hair.
“Yes Sir,” You answer, and the heat of your breath makes me twitch.
You hands find me, gently grasp, and your lips brush so softly on the tip.
“I adore you,” I whisper.
“Thank you Sir,” You answer, and your fingers tighten about the shaft of me.
So powerful to have you at my whim, and yet so helpless to be in your grasp. I am who I am, who I must be, and I take control.
“Whose are you?” I ask firmly.
“Yours Sir,” You answer, voice as sweet to my ears as the first time you spoke to me.
“What are you?” I ask, reciting the beginning of our litany.
“Your Slut, your Slave, your love,” You say, just as I have taught you.
My chest tightens. I am so very proud of you.
“What are you for?” I whisper, my voice a little raspy?
“I’m for fucking Sir.” You answer.
“Say it again,” I say.
“I’m for fucking Sir, for you to fuck.” You reply.
“And sucking? Are you a good little cock sucker?” I ask, my flesh stiffening against the soft pads of your hand.
“I’m a good little cock sucker sir. I’m whatever you want me to be.”
I run a hand through your hair, think of our beginning, the path we’ve taken, and I give a little pull.
Your lips find me, the first touch so exquisite, so intimate. I feel you take me in slowly, the warmth of it, the heat, the brush of your cheeks against me.
My hand tightens on your head, and you began to slowly slide back off of me, the air hitting wet skin as you retreat.
‘Take it!” I hiss, and you suck me back in, your hand gripping the shaft of me tight, your lips dragging up and down my dick, the brush of your hair against my stomach.
I speed up your pace with my hand, push in deeper, feel you milking me, you hand beginning to slide up and down, your mouth on the head, sucking hard.
The feeling, like lightning in my veins, so good, but just on the cusp of so much better and I find both hands on your head, fingers wrapped in your beautiful hair, sliding your head up and down my meat.
I bite the inside of my mouth, taste salt and feel the pain, but it is not enough and I am crying out anguished “Oh’s” as I explode in your mouth, filling it with seed.
We are locked there for an eternity, my hands on your head, my whole life pouring into you, as you gulp to take it all in.
Then I free you and you climb into my arms.
“You are such a good girl,” I whisper, "such a good girl."
-----
She was a pretty little brunette, and she liked to show off.
I found her at a cam site, one of those free lure you in sites, with normal girls on free webcams, and then a fee for chatting with nasty porn cyber cam girls. I wasn’t interested in porn. I’d always found the webcam fascinating, this tiny box that let a million strangers into your room, and into your life.
I’d rushed out and bought one, but once installed I never turned it on. Too paranoid I guess. Too private, I didn’t even like the unplugged cam to be pointed at me.
But I watched them. I watched them at work, on a little pop up window. I watched them at home full screen. I didn’t have a girlfriend, I had Hundreds. I got to know them, saw their personal sites, saw their writing, their thoughts, their dreams. I especially liked the ones who lived in my state. I always daydreamed of writing them, going to see them, striking up a romance.
I never chatted with the whores. I never even went to chat rooms. I was just too shy. But I had my favorites, and I feel like I knew them very well.
I knew when they were playing sad music, even with no sound at all, by their eyes, and their clothes. I knew when they were happy, by their posts and there faces. I watched them when they slept, if they left the cam on.
And sometimes, so late at night that it was more accurately early, sometimes those pretty little girls would show a bit more flesh, or if the mood struck them, a lot more. Kittenkam was one of them.
That was her handle; she never showed her real name. Not even on her Personal site, with the picture of her friends from band camp, Her little dog peaches, and her white bread boring parents. The pictures all had cute little captions like “I luv Bobz!!!” and “Good Timez on da Bus”.
Kitten became my favorite. I book marked her, checked in on her often, Monitored her. I figured out her schedule, when she would be on, and when she wouldn’t. I knew when she was happy, when she was not, when she did poorly in school, when she broke up with Bob Z.
And on those nights, usually weekend nights, when she was up way too late for a girl her age, I would run a disc, so as to not miss the mood.
At first the mood was just, “look at my newly pierced belly button”. Perhaps innocent enough, but it piqued my interest. The white breads had let her do that?
Then the mood became, I’m going to dance a bit, all by myself, in my bra and panties, for the whole world to see. It was in one of these moods, with the normally tight head shot opened up to a wide view of a stark white room with a cat box in the corner, that I noticed quite clearly past a floral bikini covered butt, the “I’m the proud parent of an honor student at Marietta High School” bumper sticker on the wall.
I’d driven past that school a hundred times, without even knowing. Knowing kitten was so close kind of made me...obsessed. A friend of mine in high school had dated a girl from that school.
I would get up in the mornings and check the Kitten disc. Sometimes there would be nothing, sometimes just her studying. Once there was a sleepover. I kept them all. And then one morning, sucking down last night’s coffee, I popped in the disc and saw
Perfect, round little button nipples. Oh god.
She had been dancing, in pajamas, and then slowly out of them. The expected pierced belly shot, and then suddenly, she began to turn around. The stills, every 15 seconds, gave the striptease a shudder effect. Very artistic. Her shoulders dropping, the cups sliding, her face coy and teasing, and then breasts, sweat sensual little teen-aged tits. She grew bolder, and pushed one into the cam. It was disappointingly dark, impossible to see.
I never left it to the disc after that. I stayed up, slept just after work, when she was at band, or key club, or at Amy's house. That way I was sure I’d be there. There and ready, ready for anything. I’d rubbed one out over Kitten a hundred times before, but the act now took on an edge, a fevered pitch.
And then one night, Kitten joined me. She wouldn’t show, the coy little Minx, but there was no mistaking that something was different. She sat close to the camera, and quickly bared her chest. Her nipples were hard, and her breasts hung full and heavy. And then, cock in hand, I realized that her hand had sunken, out of screen, and that her eyes were hooded. I watched her lick her lips, watched her shoulders begin to shake, watched her gyrate.
She was rubbing off. Her face, so intense, so clear, eyes closed, lips parted, upper arm shaking, moving. I matched her rhythm, as if I were between those sweet little thighs, pushing my way into her, claiming her virginity.
Her nose wrinkled, her eyes scrunched up tight, and then she began to shake, softly, breath heavy and slow. And then she came.
It was fucking amazing. I blew a load so hard and so fast that I could barely catch it.
I was sad to see the cam go dead that night, the last frame, her sweet face holding peaches tight, captured with a “g’nite” message over it. I ran the disc back a hundred times. It was getting light before I even got to sleep.
And the next night she did it again. As things progressed, as days went by, it became more of a show. She still didn’t let me see the goods, but her face, her eyes, her actions showed that it was less about her, and more about me.
I say me, because it was then that I became aware that she must have an inkling, a clue that I was out here, watching her. She must. She wasn’t a slut, she was a nice girl. She wouldn’t just do that for the whole world.
That’s why she did it so late at night, when only she and I were up.
Maybe she loved me. She definitely wanted me.
It was a nice house. Big and sprawling, dark wood, and all one floor. Her father was an architect, perhaps he'd designed it. It bordered on a nice little park, where Kitten would sometimes meet Amy. They would swing on the swings, and talk, about stuff. I used to watch them, take photos, make sure no one bothered them.
And then one night I realized, up late, watching her in her little pink bra and panties, that she had gotten a headset phone. She was talking to someone, for a long time, on the bed. Amy? No it was swimming night for Amy.
She came to the cam, and waved. Waved at me? No, waved at someone. Someone else. Her smile was so sweet, but it wasn't for me.
And then she looked the way I knew she always looked, you know, before. Looking down, eyes a bit hidden, mischievous smile. I couldn't believe it.
Her hands to her shoulders. The straps sliding down. Ever refresh felt like hours. She was talking. Talking to him. And the bra came off.
Her eyes smiled then, at the screen. Then they looked surprised. Shocked, really. Then interested, deeply.
I watched. God help me I watched. I watched her cyber some total stranger down. No one from her site. No one from her life. Someone from out there, on the net. And she came for him, with him. Because of him.
I had been wrong. She was a slut. They all were sluts, deep down inside.
I new what to do. What had to be done. I waited. And watched. Weeks had gone by. My Kitten was a cyber whore. It hurt my heart. Each night, she and he, doing what they did. She would watch him, and pleasure herself.
The parents, he in a tuxedo, her in too much velvet, getting into the Lincoln. Amy was out somewhere, not home. Her bedroom window light was off, I'd checked. Just Kitten.
I was patient, gave it a little time. They had been gone twenty minutes when I left my car, pulse racing. The knit of the ski mask irritated my face.
The sliding glass door in the den came off it's track so easily. I could here her stereo, loudly playing some candy-assed pop song. Thick white carpet in the dining room. Very daring of them with a daughter.
She was there, in her room, so familiar, and yet turned inside out to me, seeing it from the other side for the first time. I stood in the doorway taking it all in. How odd it all seemed.
Then her eyes, glancing in the mirror, seeing me. I had seen the look of recognition so many times before from watching her I didn't even react. But she did, jumping up and running for the window. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Her scream so shrill. She sounded all wrong, not at all like I'd imagined.
I dragged her by the ankle back away from the window, onto her bed. She fought me, kicking. She was strong. My hand caught her on the cheek, hard.
Again. Again. Then she stopped screaming and seemed a little dazed.
Quickly I slipped a cord bundler over her wrists, and pulled it tight. The plastic cut into her skin a little. I had to be sure. Another bundler around the white metal headboard post. She was struggling again. I straddled her body, seeing the little silver dolphin charm dancing between the curves of her breasts. It was familiar. I felt better.
She kicked me hard, under the chin. I smelled blood, and saw little stars.
"Don't do that again Kitten, or I'll have to hurt Peaches." I told her
calmly.
She looked so confused.
"P'peaches? How do you know..."
I was straddling her now, and she was pinned. I leaned in close, smelling her girlish smell, deodorant and hairspray, flowery, pretty.
"About Peaches? I've watched her grow up. I've been watching you for so long Kitten." The look of shock on her face was priceless.
I went to the small bureau and got out some panties. They were right there, where I knew they would be. I came back to her, still looking dazed, hanging half off the bed by her wrists.
"You were..." I stuffed the panties in her mouth, and used a second pair to secure them.
She was squirming and kicking at me, a high pitched squeal coming through the cotton, but I was too close, too strong. I looped a finger through the gold hoop in her belly.
"This will hurt you a lot, if you don't stop struggling.". Her eyes, blue and glossy, got bigger, and she went limp.
"Yes I've been watching you. I know all about you. Since before Steve even." I could see the shock in those big blue eyes. I smiled, but she couldn't see it through the mask.
She pressed her pale little thighs together as I pulled her panties off.
She tried, but couldn't stop me.
"I've been watching you, watching you become a whore." I hissed, feeling months of devotion dashed to the floor.
"Little camwhore. But I'll show you." She began to struggle at this and I pulled on the hoop.
She cried out through the panties, and fought the urge to keep fighting.
Her little brown bush was peeking up through squirming legs. I used my knee to force her thighs apart. She had a pretty little pussy, hairy, soft, thin lips barely parted, barely showing through her muff.
"I'll show you what happens to camwhores." I told her, unzipping my pants.
Her thighs began to shake uncontrollably against the outsides of mine. She was shaking her head, and her eyes were pleading begging me not to. But I had to. I had to for her, to show her, to show her what could happen with such promiscuous behavior.
I looked down, saw him so angry and hard, standing erect, and for a moment I felt bad for her. For a moment. Then I began to push him against her snatch, getting her dry little cunny good and wet with precum.
She was mewing now, softly, her head rocking, and it was time. Time to show her how whores ended up.
I pushed in, the head of my cock wedging itself into that tight little opening. It felt soft and warm, and so very tight. More tight than I had imagined.
I kept her eyes with mine. She tried to close them, but I held them open with my thumbs. And I pushed in. There was a surprising amount of resistance. But I couldn't turn back now. I shoved hard, felt something
give, and sank into sweet heavenly soft virgin cunt, all the way. She screamed then, deflowered, through the gag, over the stereo, a low sad scream.
I pushed in again, feeling more wetness, and the pleasure of fucking. Oh god the pleasure. I could vaguely feel her trying to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. I let her eyes shut. She began to cry. I pushed in again, harder, holding her arms and pulling her back onto me.
Such a sweet pussy.
I vowed to not waste the moment, pushing in slowly, firmly, not rushing things. It was truly divine to be buried in her, the only one who had ever been there.
My nuts felt hard, and I sped up, humping her now, faster.
"Little camwhore, little fucking camwhore, does Amy know what a dirty slut you are? Amy is a good girl, isn't she? Not like you."
Something was boiling in me, building, like jerking off but a million times better. I began to use her faster, more brutally, fucking into her, using her, jerking my meat off into her. For she truly was at that moment, every fifteen seconds, a camwhore, and anyone could be watching.
It was sudden and shocking, a feeling so good I couldn't hold back and I grabbed her hips and slammed them against mine, once, twice, and then I felt my cock explode deep inside her soft, wet, hot little twat.
I lay on her, panting, listening to her whimpering, for a few minutes. I had to go, the clock was ticking and the camera was clicking too. I kissed her forehead, such a sweet little face, and whispered into her ear.
"Kitten, be a good girl now, you understand? Cause next time I won't be so gentle, you know? It wouldn't be right to go easy on you if you backslide."
Then I left, quickly.
It's still my favorite disk. I watch it all the time. Kittencam went black and never came back on-line. I felt sad for a while, really missing her.
She was so pretty, so sweet. But I have my disks. And I still have a hundred girlfriends. I just have to figure out now who my new favorite is.
-----