The Handsome Man Next Door

Oral sex stories: The Handsome Man Next Door. Author: sunflowers. This story is including: Fiction, Male/Teen Female, Older Male / Female, Oral Sex, Written by women genres. Hannah gets herself a taste of her father’s best friend and decides she needs much, much more.

Oral sex stories: The Handsome Man Next Door

Author: sunflowers

A/N: I wrote this for women like me who are gettin’ kinda sick of all the cliche man stories on here featuring the older man/younger woman thing. It has a bit of a long start to it, but it’s a nice kind of build up, and hopefully it flows well and gets you off nice and easy. I’m thinking this will be a series but it took me a couple of months to put this together so it won’t be a quick updating piece, just when I’m ‘in the mood’, I guess.

Mum and dad had been friends with the Harris’ for five years before I had gotten myself into my little predicament. They had moved in next door when I was 12, just before I delved into the most awkward stage of puberty anyone could have fathomed. At the age of 17, I felt I had kind of levelled out, after five years of getting taller and wider and cinching at the waist, bursting out of my brand-new bras every few weeks. I honestly felt sorry for my mother – she could never keep up. My body was continually turning into that of a woman’s, and it was getting very obvious to the boys at school.

When I was younger, they used to make fun of me because my boobs were big for my age. They’d laugh and tell me I had ‘big jugs’, a term that made them laugh even more. By the time I was 15, however, they began to realise that their teasing had been a mistake, because I started blossoming into a pretty young lass. Not that I knew it at the time, considering I had the self-confidence of a teenage girl.

I never did sport or anything, but walking to and from school every day kept me nice and trim. I had a cute little belly, nice and soft, which melded into wide hips that made it possible to wear the slimming high-waisted shorts and jeans that were in fashion. Having a dedicated craving for crop-tops, I was pleased that I had the body to keep up to date with the current fashions. All through my early teens I was such a lame-o, wearing embarrassing slogan teeshirts and baggy jeans – hiding my body away in my school’s sports uniforms.

Being 17, however, seemed to change my life. I had lost my virginity at the start of the summer to a boy I thought I was in love with. Mum and dad had made me invite him over for dinner, and being casually relaxed parents, let him stay the night – so my lovely boyfriend and I rolled together between the sheets for the first time that night, fighting off the stickily hot Australian summer by ignoring it for our own source of heat. He dumped me two weeks later for a girl in the grade below us, and my heart was broken.

Now that I dressed like someone who fit-in, and had lost my virginity (the coolest thing to do at the time, because EVERYONE was talking about sex) I took it in mind to make the most of my summer before I started my final year of high school. My parents let me have a low-key birthday party with a few friends, and allowed us to drink our pre-mixes while they sat upstairs with some of their friends and watched over the party in the backyard. It really was just me and my girl friends getting drunk off fruity vodka drinks, but we had fun – singing along really loudly to our favourite bands and whispering about naughty stuff (like remember that time Rebecca Morton sucked Harlan Johansson’s dick in the boy’s bathroom? Gross, right?)

Anyway, I’m missing the entire point of my story! What I was getting at was, we had these neighbours – a married couple, around the same age as my mum and dad, who had basically become my second parents because they could never have kids of their own. They lived beside us in an old Queenslander, a funny old yellow house that wobbled on shitty concrete supports. They were really nice, especially the wife. Her name was Katelynn, Katie to everyone who mattered, and she was always so lovely to me – and when my dad took himself and mum away to the capital city for business, she kept an eye on me and the house for them.

Her husband was really nice too, and was always calling me sweetheart and made sure I was having a good time at school and everything. His name was Guy, and he was super polite and charming – and he and Dad got along really well. They both liked to talk about motorbikes and racecars, all that boring stuff that didn’t (and still doesn’t) appeal to me. He often came around on the weekends and had a few beers with dad to pass the time.

The night of my 17th birthday, at about 9 o’clock, I was absolutely trashed off my third drink. My girl friends and I were hanging out around the pool, too drunk to manage to put on our bathers, so we were just dipping our feet in in fear that skinny-dipping would rile up our mothers. The music was blaring from the darkness underneath the house, the adults upstairs listening to their own brand of party on the deck above.

I needed to pee really badly, so I had started to stumble into the downstairs area of my house – basically a second little unit for when relatives were staying. Kicking a toe on an abandoned patio chair, I cursed my way towards the stained-glass doors that were letting through a little bit of light. Rolling it across in its runner, I slipped inside and pulled the door shut – hearing the tail end of a splash and the flush of the toilet. Guy appeared in the doorway a moment later, pulling up his fly before stopping dead when he saw me.

“Sorry love,” He told me, picking up his beer that he had left on the counter. “Your aunt’s usin’ the loo upstairs, so I had to sneak down to use this one. Didn’t think you and your friends would like it much if I relieved myself in the backyard.”

“I think we’re all a bit too drunk to notice, really.” I smiled at him as I leant against the counter, feeling my head spin from the lightness that came with being absolutely smashed. “Are you having fun?”

“I am!” He grinned at me, caught in a stalemate in the kitchenette. “Are you?”

“I am!” I mirrored him, watching him head towards the door. “Thank you for coming tonight, I’m sorry I’m not socialising with everyone its just—friends are here and everything.”

“We understand.” He laughed at me, grinning when the pitch of my voice wavered and lowered with each excited syllable. “I didn’t wanna hang out much with the old people when I was seventeen… You’re on your last year of school now, aren’t ya sweetheart?”

“Yeah, grade twelve now.” My head lolled a little and he let out another laugh at my sloppiness, taking a step forward to catch me just in case I fell over. “Pretty exciting!”

“Sure is. I can’t believe how old you’re gettin’. Feels like you were only this big yesterday.” He held his hand to an offensive height and savoured the way I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re gettin’ to be a charming young lady, aren’t you?” He joked.

“I’ve always been lovely.” I told him, slumping forward and snorting at my clumsiness, and he stuck out an arm to pull me up. He clicked his tongue and tugged up my shirt, which had slipped to show the top of bra – finding a double-edged sword when it hiked up and showed too much of my belly. He tugged it down again, probably a little tipsy himself, and sighed.

“What is it with you young girls and wearin’ next to nothin’?” He asked, pulling it up again before he realised what he was doing.

“I’m doing alright, thank you, Mr Harris.” I teased him, his charming smile picking up at the edges at my little dig at his age. “At least you can’t see half my arse tonight.”

“That’s true. Though, I’m sure your mum would strangle you before she let you out of the house lookin’ like that.” Guy grinned again, taking a swig of his beer before glancing down at me. “You still got that boy followin’ you around? Whats-his-name?”

“Kieran? No.” I sighed, weighed down by sad-feelings and intoxication. “I figured dad would’ve told you about him by now.”

“Wait—he ain’t the one who—?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, shit, Hannah. I’m sorry.” He smiled, nudging my bare shoulder with his beer. “Teenage boys can be cruel. I would know,” Guy continued, taking my other shoulder with his spare hand. “I’ve been one.”

“Like fifty years ago, I bet.” I jabbed and he scoffed, tugging me under his arm to ruffle my hair. I huffed, having spent half-an-hour taming the brown curls into semi-straightness, and reached up to pull away.

Hugging Guy always felt really nice because he was a lot like my dad. He was a lot taller than dad, but was stocky and strong. He had a bit of a beer gut, like most guys his age, but it didn’t take away from him at all – it made him seem more manlier, like he kept himself in good shape but still knew how to wind-down. I always kind of figured that I’d like a boyfriend like my dad or Guy, but most of the boys at school were into their cut-up singlets and neon-coloured shorts – like the idea of masculinity had been washed away over the years. I wanted a man like dad or Guy because they made me feel safe, and I knew that if I ever got in trouble I could count on them to look after me if something ever went wrong.

My fingers tickled the back of his neck and Guy rested his forearm on my lower back, saving his beer from spilling onto the concrete beneath our feet. I smiled up at him gently before beaming like a drunken lunatic, giving him a tight squeeze. “You’re not that old, Mr Harris. Pretty old, but not THAT old.” He seemed to like the way I giggled, and he gripped my forearm to keep me steady. “Thank you for coming to my party.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He gave my arm a nice squeeze and I pulled myself in a little closer, looking up at him and searching his face for any kind of discomfort. I liked the way he held me when he gave me hugs. The last time he gave me a hug that tight was when I failed my math class in tenth grade, and mum was angry with me because I hadn’t tried hard enough. Dad was in hiding, because mum was really strict about grades, so I slipped into the neighbour’s yard to get away from her bad mood.

The Harris’ didn’t mind me stopping around, as I had done it for so long, and I had thought that they were both still at work. All I wanted to do was hide on their back patio and sulk for a while, but it turned out that Guy had already finished work for the day and found me sobbing like a deranged loser. (“Now, darlin’, school is important, but one failed class ain’t gonna colour the rest of your life.” He told me, as I cried like a dumb baby into his work shirt. “You’re already a smart girl, don’t worry too much about it, hey?”)

I really liked how he looked after me like a dad, because my dad could be very distant when it came down to it. I’m sure it was not dad’s fault; I knew he could be quite thoughtful. He was a quiet kind of man, whereas Guy was more outgoing and a bit of a joker.

Pulling myself up to give him a quick kiss on the chin in thanks, the old man scoffed at me when I leant back. “You’re a very friendly little drunk, aren’t ya?” He teased me and I rolled my eyes again, not wanting to pull away even though I felt him start to shift.

“Nooo, I’m just happy that you’re here. You’ve done so much for me and I’m so happy that you’re here. Thank you.”

“Oh darlin’, honestly—“ He must have started to get a little embarrassed at my cooing because he began to pull away. “It’s not a problem. You’re a good kid.”

I beamed at him and pushed up again, the shift of weight making him step backwards. I took in his face and caught his cautious look, obviously wondering about how weird it would be to be caught in this position with his neighbour’s 17 year old daughter, but I tightened my arm around the back of his neck and stood on my toes and caught him on the mouth. His lips were warm and wet, and tasted like beer.

“Thank you for coming.” I said again, barely pulling back and relishing the thrill that shot through me. I had always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss someone for a simple thank you. I had no romantic intention lurking behind my kiss, but he sort of froze and his hand fell from my bicep. My thighs squeezed together beyond my control and I pushed into him once more, back on the tips of my toes to kiss him again.

It was longer this time, and I carelessly licked the taste of beer from his lips as I felt his dead arm slink around my back. The hand with the bottle slunk up the back of my shirt and the free hand wandered down my back, and the sparks in my lower tummy started up and I had no clue what I was doing – all I knew was that it felt awesome and I had never ever gotten a feeling like the one I got from kissing Guy.

He let out a noise that made the thrills inside me explode and he stepped me back towards the counter – and when my ass hit the melamine, I felt his hips press against my tummy. I felt his tongue swipe at mine and I shivered at the contact, sucking on his tongue gently with my naïve lips. He grinded on me because of that, probably more drunk than I had realised, and I felt something hard begin to press against my belly – another low groan breathed against my cheek as he thrust himself against my bare stomach. The rub of his denim jeans against the soft skin of my torso brought a tiny sigh from my busy mouth.

I wanted to crawl onto the counter to sit, so I could feel him grind between my thighs, but when my arm left his shoulders he pulled away from me.

Guy stared down at me, blatantly horrified at his apparently bad choices, and shook his head. “We shouldn’t have done that, Hannah.” He said plainly as he stumbled back a few feet, and I huffed, crawling onto the counter to sit in front of him. Sitting like the classy lady I was, I rested my elbows on my spread knees and stared up at him drunkenly. “You don’t kiss your parent’s friends like that.” He told me.

“But it was good, right?” I grinned at him and his face fell.

“What would Katie think if she found out, sweetheart?” The excuse sounded weak but it made me feel instantly horrible.

My heart fell and my face must have as well, because he got a very sorry look on his face and took a long gulp of his beer. He finished the rest of it and pulled it from the stubby holder, taking his eyes from mine to read the label he had probably read a thousand times over. “Don’t worry,” He said, looking back over at me. The feeling returned in my lower tummy and my legs squeezed together instantly, and his eyes widened at my response. “I won’t tell her.” He stumbled over his words, “I won’t tell your mum or dad either. We just keep this between us, alright?”

I nodded, and he nodded, and left me there to feel kinda bad about myself. After I finished what I had originally set out to do, finding out that I was absolutely dripping and my undies were soaked, I headed back out to my friends until mum called me from the balcony. Katelynn and Guy were heading home for the night, surprisingly early, and I had to go say goodbye.

The exciting throbbing between my thighs flared up again and I halted all conversations with my friends to meet the couple at the bottom of the stairs. I gave Katie a big, drunken hug and a kiss on the cheek, just to make sure Guy knew I was being incredibly lovey with everyone, and turned to the man I had probably scarred for life. Giving him an un-suspiciously normal-lengthed hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, I thanked them both for coming, and watched them retreat down my driveway.

The next week or two, I went without spending any time with my father and Guy. Usually I would lurk around when they spent time in the shed, listening to their weird old music from the 70s, but I gracefully avoided them by spending most of my time in the air-conditioning playing on my computer. When I wasn’t holed up in my room like a prisoner of war, I was out with my friends, so I wasn’t really home long enough to think about what I had done for too long.

What I did know, however, is that I masturbated like crazy, considering I could see into the Harris’ kitchen from my bedroom window. Just being in such close proximity to my dirtiest secret was driving me nuts – thinking that maybe Guy would take a sneak look through my dark bedroom window to watch my toes curl whilst I thought about him rubbing his dick against me. Sometimes I thought about what it would be like to have him fuck me – but I had only experienced the touch of my ex-boyfriend’s, so my view of sex was rather boring and bland in comparison to the way that Guy made me feel.

Everyone always talked about how great sex was, but I hadn’t felt it yet, so I began to wonder if my friends were just lying to me when they bragged about how many orgasms they had with their boyfriends. The last time Kieran had fingered me, it was like he had lost a pick in his guitar and was trying real hard to get it back. I wondered what it would have felt like to have Guy’s fingers in me – apparently it felt really good when a guy touched your g-spot. I tried to recreate it with my own fingers, but I couldn’t get the right angle, so I just got frustrated and rubbed my clit to the thought of Guy coming over my house while my parents were out, and eating my pussy.

I’d seen porn, sure, and even though the girl’s eyes were glazed over with fake pleasure most of the time, I always managed to get off to a woman getting her pussy eaten. Watching them get fake-fucked and fake orgasm made me feel dirty, but since I had delved into older-man/younger-female porn, I had gained a penchant for watching the experienced mouth of a greying man tongue the clit of a sweet-faced girl. Seeing the soft hips held by big, strong hands and hearing the real moans of a woman enjoying herself while some old dude devoured her sweet pink pussy made me come harder than I had ever come before.

Some nights when I really felt naughty, I would imagine Guy crawling beneath my sheets and pulling my undies aside – wondering what his breath would be like on my tingling lips, dreaming about the first warm lick of his tasty tongue on my shivering pussy. I wanted to feel that, and I began to dream of ways to get it to happen.

Surely it was never going to happen with Guy. Every time I saw him, he looked incredibly blasé about everything, so I began to fantasize about hanging around pubs and clubs to get the attention of the drunken older men that stumbled out. I just wanted to feel some old cock in me, and every day without it made me a little bit more stir-crazy. There was only so much masturbation that could sate me – I wanted to feel it for real.

My friend invited me out to an all-ages gig at one of the local taverns on a Saturday night. I figured getting out of the house would save me from becoming such a weird-ass nympho, so I said yes. Her name was Ainslee and she was a bit of a loose girl, and by the time we got there, she was already dancing with some beefy boy by the stage. The guy she was with looked like he only worked-out his upper body, and was stumbling around on these little twig legs that made me embarrassed for my friend and her choices.

The band was alright, but I was shy and nervous – the group of hormonal teenagers would have been fun for the Hannah that lived three weeks ago. Now that I had tasted the forbidden tongue of an older man, all I wanted was to be surrounded by older men who leered at me. I was beginning to get in THAT deep, like I had become some kind of pervert who needed a release. I began to sort of hate Guy, like he had spoilt me – like I could never get it on with a boy my age again because he had ruined by sexual desires. All I could ponder was what would it have felt like to have a man’s beard rub between my thighs.

I spotted an older man by the bar, probably having had his teenage years in the 90s or something. He was wearing an 18+ wristband, so I slunk towards him – trying to look older by straightening by back and squaring my shoulders.

“Buy me a drink?” I asked him sweetly, trying to purr but sounding very much my actual age. He looked down at me, grinned awkwardly, and shook his head.

“You’re a bit too young, sorry sweetheart.”

The pet name made my pussy throb and I groaned and apologised, slinking away like a scolded kitten to hide in the corner. A few boys tried me but I refused, telling them I had a boyfriend by the bar, and they left me alone. I didn’t want their naivety – I wanted a nice old man to come take me home. There was no chance of it, no, not unless I got on some dating site and pretended to be older or something.

I got mad enough at myself to just call my father to come and get me. Mum worked nights with Katie at one of the RSLs for extra money, so dad was the controller of my social life. I told him that some boy was leering at me and I was uncomfortable, and he rushed in to pick me up in about ten minutes flat. I said goodbye to Ainslee and she was upset that I was going so early, but I had bigger plans for the night.

I thought about chat-sites, but that seemed a little old school. I thought about dating sites, but that was so much commitment. Then I thought about roulette sites, were you were strangers between webcams – where people mostly jerked off to each other. There was always a plethora of older men, and for some reason, teenage girls loved to frequent the sites just to get a kick out of it with their friends.

I was gonna do it, I realised as my father chatted to me about the band I saw that night. I was gonna get on a roulette site and watch an old guy jerk off to my pussy and tits. The thought excited me to no end, and even when I looked up at dad I got a weird thrill of arousal. He stared back down at me and scoffed. “You sure you haven’t been drinking, Hannah?” Dad asked, and I shook my head. I was just drunk on old dudes, dad, I couldn’t help myself.

Basically flying out of the car, I said goodnight to my dad, who shrugged at me and returned to his late night SBS documentaries, and I fled to my room where I began to pull at my clothes. I wanted to look at myself in the mirror, to make sure I was cute enough for my exciting new plans, and held up my arms and shaped my body into a sexy pose.

With my shirt ridden up over my boobs, I pulled the soft flesh out to hang over the cups of my bra. I pinched my pink nipples and liked how they matched my nail polish. I brushed my palm over my warm cunt and felt the goosbumps run down my legs, thinking about how cute I looked with my socks still on. They were just a precaution, to save me from the blisters caused by heeled boots, but I had a feeling that any old dude would enjoy the cute look that came with them. Pulling my curly hair into a loose bun on the top of my head, I looked over my face in the mirror.

Big blue eyes, freckles, and sweet, usually pink, lips that I had coated in a striking red for the gig – I looked quite nice. The road to womanhood had been a rough one, but I had come out looking pretty good, if I could say so myself. I subconsciously pinched a nipple, biting my lip, and ran my gaze over my face again. Surely I would have no trouble seducing a man online with what I was working with.

Then, I almost had a heart attack, my eyes catching the kitchen light from the Harris’ house that reflected in my bedroom mirror. I whipped around when I saw his silhouette, Guy standing there in his house jeans and bare torso – a mug in one hand and the other scratching the hair on his chest. He caught me, breasts hanging out with my skirt half unbuttoned, and he almost dropped his cup.

Pretending he didn’t see me, he continued to the kitchen bench and turned on the jug. I stood there and watched him, one hand full of tit and the other edging along the top of my skirt. Every so often he would look up and catch my stare, and he would lick his lips awkwardly and return to his task at hand. I swung my hands behind my back and unclipped my bra, making sure to unveil myself the next time he looked into my bedroom.

I began to unbutton the rest of my skirt, heart racing in my chest like I was going to fucking die, and let it fall and pool around my ankles. The steam began to rise from the jug, and I dug my hand into my underwear – finding the slick wetness that had started to soak through the cotton of my undies. I was almost vibrating with terror, worried that he’d call out and tell me to stop – or worried that he’d turn off the light and walk away.

But Guy was watching now, unable to look away, and although I could only see his torso and above, I knew he was interested. My fingers slipped around my clit and rubbed little circles, my spare hand sliding up and across my tummy to find a nipple – pinching and tweaking the little pink nub as I watched Guy watch me. Knowing that he was watching my little show made it hard for me to stay on my feet – my legs shuddering and my arms bursting with goosebumps. He was swallowing nothing, blank faced, still watching me as my mouth parted to let out a little sigh at the pleasure. My fingers kept working, swirling on my slippery clit, hips jutting against my hand as I worked myself for him.

Guy stared across the threshold at me, the steam from the kettle fogging up the glass between us, and his big hand wiped the window clean. We made eye contact once again and the thrill of his attention sent me over the edge. My knees pressed together and my eyes squeezed shut and I let out a breathy moan – my tiny palm clutching a tender and tingling breast. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I found him sloppily pouring his cup of tea, the rolls of pleasure still dripping down my legs – joined by the moisture that had begun to collect and run between my thighs.

He turned and left the kitchen, flicking the light off and I stood, alone, in my bedroom – trying to figure out whether I had just experienced the most exciting or embarrassing moment of my life. I knew he would never tell my parents, but I still felt a little naughty. I was standing on the line between experimenting and perverted, but I kind of wanted to mesh them together.

Walking like a newborn calf, I flopped onto my bed and touched myself some more – warmed by the thought of his eyes on mine the entire time.

From then on, for the next week or so, I would wait until I heard mum and Katie carpool to work together and sat watch for the kitchen light’s reflection in my bedroom window. Every time I would see Guy begin to make his cup of tea, I would appear, and give him the same show I did every time. Becoming more brash as the nights went on, I started to do things a little different – like remove my underwear real slow, giving him a nice, long look at the brown curls between my thighs. Sometimes I would pull over the chair I used to put on my make up, and would sit down – spreading my legs real gingerly, using my darkly painted nails to point out all the places I wanted him to touch.

And every night, he’d watch me all the same. Then when I would inevitably come, letting out little moans that sounded faintly like ‘Guy…’, he would finish making his cup of tea, turn off the light, and leave me heaving and shuddering in his wake – toes curled in the shaggy carpet beneath my feet. I just knew he was wandering off to touch himself; surely he was, because why else would he put up with my little shows? What man in his right mind would willingly watch something of that calibre without having to fix himself afterwards?

Now I was quite content to do that for the rest of the holidays, because I had found a happy medium that allowed me to indulge my sick pleasures and keep my distance from the married man. With glass, grass, fence, grass and some more glass between us, it didn’t seem so bad. I was beginning to play it off in my mind as something weird, like he was shortsighted and couldn’t actually see me – which was an excuse I was more than willing to use. Perhaps I wasn’t so sick, perhaps I was just curious, and getting rid of all my frightening teenage hormones by masturbating to my shortsighted neighbour was just a thing that kids did. I was full of shit though, I knew it, but I made any excuse to let myself keep doing what I was doing.

It wasn’t until the most cliché thing happened – like, of course it was going to. Me getting myself into such deep shit was almost inescapable, because I had basically set it up.

Because I had gotten into the routine of racing through the day to reach my peak at about 7:23pm, I had forgotten to consider the inevitable. Dad had a business trip to go to with mum in Brisbane. They invited me, but I declined, because my private parts had fully taken over my good senses.

If I stayed home alone, I would be able to be nice and loud with my masturbating. If I stayed home alone, maybe I could convince him to masturbate back. If I stayed home alone, maybe Guy would come over and fuck me.

The thought, which I had a million times every day before my parents left, often left me changing my underwear every few hours. I was a dripping mess, barely able to hold a conversation with my parents while they ran me through the rules of their being away.

No parties, of course – I didn’t need to. There was already a rager happening in my pants. No boys, without supervision – the only guy I wanted was actually called Guy and was already my supervision. And if I wanted to go anywhere, I had to ask permission of Katie AND Guy, as if they were my real parents – and I definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

And they left me on a Friday afternoon. “Be good, Hannah! We love you!” They said, before driving off down towards the highway, and the feeling that rushed over me almost bowled me over. I ran inside and kicked off my skirt, enjoying the swish of fresh air over my arse and upper thighs. Things felt good, but it was almost as if I was out of control – I could not contain the fantasies that were rippling through my very being.

Katie didn’t go to work that night though, much to my disgust. Instead, she invited me over for dinner – and we had a barbeque on their back veranda. She chatted to me about silly things, things I would have usually enjoyed talking about, but I was having so much trouble focusing on anything other than the dirty thoughts I was having about her husband. Guy was really good with his secret keeping though, because he chatted easily to me like nothing had ever happened. Even though I had fingered myself in front of him the night before, he still looked at me with that cheeky grin that he had always used. I was going fucking crazy.

Excusing myself an hour after dinner, finishing the glass of white wine that Katie had offered during tea, I explained to them that I had a headache and wanted to go to bed. Katelynn warded me off having any headache tablets, because I had been drinking, but told me to drink lots of water and blah blah blah, I really just needed to masturbate and cry a little or something. I lugged my sad self back into my house and threw off my dress, leaving it by the doorway so I could pull myself back to my bedroom. Collapsing on my bed and feeling like a big loser, because Guy had a wife and she was really nice, I ended up crying a little and passed out like a lame baby.

The next day, however, was a Saturday and Katie left for work at about 7:00. The kitchen light next door came on at about 7:20, like it usually did, but I didn’t move from my bed because I was ashamed of myself. I had spent all day wallowing in self-pity, touching myself a little and having shameful, although incredibly intense, orgasms that made me feel like shit (but that didn’t stop me from going back for more). Because mum and dad weren’t home, I wandered around in my underwear and touched myself on the couch, on their bed, waiting for the jug to boil for my hot chocolate…

I watched as the alarm clock beside my bed flicked over to 7:24 and the kitchen light turned off and the feeling of dread sunk into my chest. Lying alone in the darkness put things in perspective for me – maybe it was time to go and find myself a boyfriend that I could use. A guy my age might just be willing to learn how to please a woman – like, if I just used him for my pleasure, he would enjoy that – because what kind of young lad didn’t want a nympho girlfriend? And if I had this craving for consistent dick, they would never wanna leave me. At least they wouldn’t be married and everything, so that would be a plus too.

That gave me some hope, and I spent a few minutes daydreaming about what it could be like to have a boyfriend to fuck. Maybe I’d even move my bedroom around, and place my bed in the perfect position so I could fuck this boy in front of Guy – so he would know what he was missing. I’d make sure I was on top all the time, maybe even reverse cowgirl on him, so I could make eye contact with the man next door while I bounced up and down on my boyfriend’s dick – so Guy would go fucking crazy, like I had been.

Dipping my fingers into my undies, I began to rub my clit tenderly – pulling back the hood to graze soft fingers over the tingling little nub. My pussy lips were all swollen and wet, like they had been for days, weeks even. I think it just needed that one release – one that would get it to calm the fuck down. Rolling my hips against my gentle fingers, I began to get so lost in the moment that I barely even realised the sound of footsteps on the back stairs.

When the idea finally hit me, however, I sat up instantly – throwing myself out of bed and pulling on a shirt. Sneaking to my doorframe, I saw the porch light turn on. “Hannah?” Said Guy. “Are you home?”

“Yeah!” I barely managed to say, my legs nearly losing all feeling as I realised how alone we were. “I’m home.”

“We didn’t see you all day,” He continued, not coming any closer. “We were kinda worried you’d died or somethin’, after your headache last night ‘n’ all.”

“Yeah.” I forced out. “Nah, I’m alive.”

“Good.” He said.

“Yeah.” I replied.

“Well,” Guy stated weakly, and I heard the screen door squeak at the hinges. “Goodnight, girlie. Call me if you need anything.”

I couldn’t help myself, stumbling out of the doorframe to catch his startled look. “Wait!” I told him, and he swallowed deeply. “Do you— Do you still wanna watch?”

“… Hannah, I—” He looked down at me, uncomfortable with seeing me in just a nightshirt and undies. I hadn’t been bothered to put on a bra that day, and because I was so fucking horny, my nipples were sticking out something fierce. “We should stop all this.”

I just shot him a rebellious look and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, pulling it over my head and shoulders.

The night air felt good on my bare skin and Guy swallowed again, leaning back onto the door. “Tell me to go home, Hannah.” He then snapped at me. “Tell me to go home.”

“No.” I was shivering with lust by that point, so turned-on that I was beginning to drip between the legs. I must have looked a sight, topless and shaking – the blue cotton of my underwear dampened at the crotch. “Please stay. I’m going crazy.”

“Just because you say ‘yes’,” He started towards me, unsure of his footsteps. “Doesn’t mean it’s okay, Hannah. This is wrong.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” I begged him, bouncing on my heels like a child so my tits would bounce along with me. “I really, really want you to touch me.”

“Shit, sweetheart. This is—” He stopped, chewing his bottom lip like he was ready to tear it off. “This is really wrong.”

“I’m legal—” I started.

“It doesn’t work like that.” He cringed, still unable to back away. I knew I had him from the wavering of his voice. “You’re also Linden’s daughter.”

“It’s not like I’m just gonna call dad and be like ‘Hey daddy, guess what just happened?!”” I couldn’t help but grin at the way he balked at my line. “Just once, then I promise I’ll stop. I promise! We don’t have to have sex, just—just touch me. Please?”

He paused, and thought and thought, and then thought some more. The man looked over me quickly, as if he couldn’t bear the thought, and then found my face. “Shit.” He said. “I’m going to hell. I’m going to hell in a fucking handbasket.”

Guy took two steps forward, and then another two, and I decided to stir things up a bit and draw him closer to my bedroom. I didn’t want him putting a finger on me and then deciding against it all – I wanted him in my room and on my bed and with his cock out so I could look at it and touch it and have it be everything I ever dreamed. I wanted him to accept the fact that he was just as fucking perverted as I was, and I needed him to show me just how perverted he could be.

I was vibrating with excitement – I could barely keep my legs from shaking. Even the movement of walking was churning the arousal between my thighs, and I could feel how slick it was with each step backwards. The way my outerlips moved against each other, rolling against my swollen clit, was driving me very close to, what I hoped to be, my first orgasm of the night.

He got me against my bedroom door, his forearm braced above my forehead, and he was close enough that I could feel his breath. I swear I actually came a little in that moment, like the feeling of him being so damn close was shooting fireworks off into my one-track mind. I leant up and kissed him.

His hands found my waist, and his large palms squeezed at my hips – a groan muffled through his lips against mine. I let out a breath, and he dipped his tongue into my mouth – my lips sucking on it eagerly while his fingers crept up the small of my back. My bedroom door slipped open easily when I managed to turn the knob, leading him back with me while a rough hand found the back of my neck and pulled me in closer. Guy’s tongue was wet, and tasted like a cup of tea, and I could feel his dick straining through his jeans – his stubble biting at the soft skin of my innocent face.

The sight of my room, a teenage girl’s room filled with posters and old stuffed-animals, seemed to snap him out of his trance for a brief moment. Then I swear his dick got even harder, and he grabbed my hips and grinded himself against me with the most sexiest groan I have heard to this day.

He backed me towards the bed and I fell back as soon as the backs of my knees hit the mattress. Flopping down, I spread my legs and pulled myself up onto my elbows, looking up at him as his chest heaved and his teeth nipped at his bottom lip. “Shit Hannah,” he started, “You gotta tell me to stop right now.”

“Don’t you dare stop.” I blurted out, my shaking fingers snaking towards my underwear. “Please eat me out, Mr Harris.” Using his formal name like they did in the pornos, I tried to win him over.

He let out a noise and his eyes travelled to the wet spot glistening between my thighs. “Shit,” he said, “Hannah.”

I let out a shaky breath and said, “I really need you to eat my pussy, Mr Harris.”

Without another word, he crawled onto my bed and I shuffled back – his hungry mouth nipping at my knees as I got into a position we would both be comfortable in. When my head hit my pillow, I stopped, and he kept crawling – running his mouth up my belly and kissing my ribs, a nervous hand finding one of my tits and squeezing gently. The noise I made made him squeeze harder and he groaned again, dipping his face into my chest to suck gently on the hard nub he had captured in his palm.

It felt amazing. It felt so fucking amazing and my legs were shaking, hips pushing up into his chest as I ground my pussy against his chest hair – even the slightest tickle from the hair making these frenzied little noises push forth from my mouth. He scraped his teeth against the sensitive nipple and I let out a cry, hands reaching up to delve into his short hair, holding on tight as he kissed and sucked and licked. And then he started on the other, a whole new experience, the wet skin around the abused nipple catching in the night breeze and sending these amazing feelings through my body. I thought I was going to pass out.

His spare hand found my jaw, and he dipped a finger into my mouth, tugging down my bottom lip as he devoured my tits. My tongue flicked out to swirl around his fingers, his strong palm soon pushing my chin up and taking a hold of my throat. It was a light squeeze, but the quick shortness of breath made me grind harder into him – my choked moan snapping him out of focus before he pulled back.

“How long have you wanted this?” Guy asked me, a cool fire behind his eyes as a palm found the wet warmth of my pussy. The contact and his words made my eyes roll back into my head and I pushed against him, whining for a finger or something.

“Oh God,” I breathed, squirming against him. “I’ve touched myself thinking about this every night since my birthday.”

He seemed past it himself, really. I think we were both so wrapped up in each other that all boundaries had been trampled, and the way I was reacting to him told him that I was not going to run away and tell everyone that he took advantage of me.

“Touching yourself for me every night.” He repeated gently, his voice slightly shaky but his fingers on a mission as they tugged at the corners of my undies. I lifted my bum up to help him out. “I’d never thought about you like this before.” He drifted off. “But when you kissed me, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.” Me and Guy made eye contact and he pulled me free of my panties, ditching them on the floor beside my bed. “You’re beautiful.”

I smiled rather sweetly at him as he spread my thighs nice and wide. “Thank you.” I said, and his gaze softened – suddenly replacing the tenderness with a thick finger right in my cunt. I let out a loud cry of debauchery, his stare turned from gentle to hungry and he pumped his finger in and out a few times, matching the rolling of my hips with a curled finger that searched for my special place.

Guy then slipped another finger in, stretching me almost painfully as his digits probed for my g-spot – soon finding the lovely little button and tickling it cheekily. A thrill of feeling ran up and down my legs and I nearly sat bolt up, propping myself onto my elbows as I gazed up at him. His eyes, half-shut in desire, met mine and he moved towards me, keeping his fingers inside me as they leisurely stroked my spot – leaning in and giving me a deep kiss.

Propped on an elbow, he fucked his two fingers into me – his mouth biting and kissing down to my neck while I rocked on his palm. The squelching of my cum as I rode his hand was the only thing I could hear, that and his breath in my ear as his tongue and teeth swept across my earlobe. “I want you to cum all over my fingers.” He breathed into me and I shuddered, “And then I’m gonna eat your sweet pussy until you cum again,” he fucked me faster, and I was letting out little squeaks by now – everything felt so frenzied and my legs were beginning to cramp, “and again,” he breathed, “and again.”

And then his thumb met my clit and I was done for. A few wide swipes of his fingerprint, and I let out a loud wail and everything flashed white, an explosion bursting between my thighs as I drenched his hand and my sheets. My toes curled and my legs shuddered, his tongue sweeping across the soft skin of my neck. It was like my head was gonna explode – maybe I was dying, I wasn’t sure, but it felt so good, like I had reached the purest peak of my life at 17.

His fingers continued to stroke me, gently, tickling the throbbing spot that shown me that sex was a million times better than I had ever expecting. I couldn’t bear to open my eyes, I was so exhausted but I was still so horny – his fingers keeping me on the plateau of fucking ecstasy. My body continued to shake, legs jiggling against each other while his fingers pulled in and out, the squishing noise punctuating my little moans that just wouldn’t stop coming out.

“Did you like that?” Guy asked, looking over at me – the strain in his jeans incredibly apparent and looking very painful. I didn’t have the energy to speak, so I nodded weakly and let out a very soft ‘uh-huh’.

He freed his fingers, leaning over to kiss a hardened nipple before pulling away completely. But he was just getting comfortable; setting himself between my legs so he could cup my arse in his big hands. His fingers kneaded the chubby bits of my bum and I sighed lightly, unable to contain myself at the thought of my greatest fantasy. Warm breaths swam across my inner thighs and my shaky hands felt for his head, fingers curling into his hair and pulling him closer. He was much stronger than me, and held off – freeing an ass-cheek to use a pointer finger on my delicate clit. He rubbed it quickly; letting out a satisfied noise at my uncontrollable thrust into his face and replaced his grip, massaging the fat flesh of my ass.

Then his tongue was on my clit, gently at first, but the fucking feeling of something so soft and wet surrounding my already sensitive love button gave me reason to let out a very loud moan. He spread my legs further apart, abandoning their posts and reaching up to tweak my nipples. His lips closed in on my clit and began to suck, slipping all over the little nub while his tongue flicked and rolled and squished against my pleasure. I began to grind into his face, unable to stop myself. My hands pulled him in closer. I was in absolute heaven.

“Fuck,” I hissed at him and he let out a laugh against me, the vibrations making me buck and plant his noise into my slit. His tongue slipped down and took a small swipe against my asshole and he shook his head, digging his handsome nose into my puss. I began to let out generous noises, my fingers pulling him deeper into me – drowning him in my juices. “Mr Harris,” I breathed, and I felt a hand leave my chest and readjust the situation in his pants, “that feels really good!”

He pulled back from me, gasping at the pain of pulled hair, and stared up my torso – his eyes dark and lusty. I thrust against his chin and he grinned, pinching a nipple tightly. “You like that, baby?”

“Ooohh fuck.” I breathed. “Eat my pussy PLEASE, Mr Harris.”

He delved back in, rubbing his nose on my clit and only slightly dipping his tongue into my slit. I think he was trying to tease me, but I think he lost the battle himself, because two or three teases seemed to be enough before he drove his tongue into me – attempting to scoop out as much of my cum as he could. He was like an animal, slurping me, forcing his tongue as deeply as he could as he drank like a man who had been lost in the desert. And his moans, deep and throaty, reminded me that it was all very real – because even in my wildest fantasies I couldn’t have added a more perfect soundtrack.

Guy’s hands drew down my chest and my hips, curling around to brace my ass – bending me, and folding my body in half so he could get better access to my sweet pussy. With my feet shuddering in the air, we made eye contact as he fucked me with his tongue – the pink muscle dipping into my vagina like a kitten drinking its milk. “You taste so fucking good.” He whispered into me, and removed a palm – slipping a quick finger into my puss.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, toes twitching and fingers curling into my purple bed sheets as he refused to break our eye contact. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

His lips returned to my clit and he began to suck, his tongue roaming and claiming all of me – that finger in my pussy probing and pressing and sending shocks of pleasure up my spine. His dark eyes, half-shut and cloudy, disappeared from my eager view, his finger pulling out before I felt the warm wetness slink around my asshole.

Tonguing me there for a moment, a tip of warmth pressing in and out of an unfamiliar spot as he kissed and sucked, Guy let out a loud groan and I could feel him begin to thrust into the bed. A thumb found my clit and I exploded at the new sensation, so hard that I felt like I had wet myself. He swore loudly into me, returning to my dripping pussy – feasting on the juices that I had mostly sprayed into his hair.

I thought he would stop to give me a break, but he just kept going – sucking out my cum and diddling my clit, my body writhing and twisting and by the time I had reached my third orgasm I was openly shouting in pleasure. I had never felt anything like it before, and he just would not stop. I’m sure he would have licked me dry if I hadn’t’ve pulled away – begging for a break and a drink of water.

“I’m going to die of dehydration.” I told him as he looked up, still all hazy-eyed and raunchy. “Please let me go get a drink.”

He softly kissed my clit and nodded, his pointer finger removing itself slowly from my cunt. Sitting up straight and trying to move my feet to the ground, I realised that there was no way I was going to be walking properly for the next few hours.

My legs were jelly and there was a chance that I was going to fall and kill myself. It was if he had eaten the energy out of me – my brain buzzing with a bliss I hadn’t ever fathomed, and my legs were completely numb and useless. Guy caught onto that idea much quicker than I expected, heaving himself into a sitting position before clapping a large palm on my thigh. “Need some help, missy?” He asked, and I looked up at him and nodded.

He leant down and gave me a gentle kiss, pulling himself off of my bed and hoisting me up along with him. I think his incredible boner had taken all the blood from his brain, because I kept expecting him to snap out of his trance and tell me that what he had just done was very wrong. But he led me down the hallway and into the kitchen, flicking on the light before searching for a cup. I pulled myself onto the nearby counter, my arms barely holding my weight – the moisture between my thighs making my seat rather slippery.

Guy bent into the opened fridge and returned with some cold water, pouring it into the glass before passing it over. I took a large gulp as he watched me, leaning his tailbone against the opposite counter with his arms folded across his chest. His face was all shiny, sweat patching under his arms and with a painful looking tent in his jeans. He licked his lips and I smiled at him, taking another gulp of the water before spreading my legs cheekily.

His eyes trailed down and landed on the right spot – running a hand through his wet hair before sighing. “You want me to leave you alone for the night?” He asked me blankly, eyeing the clock before returning his gaze to my glistening cunt. My fingers slipped down and took a swipe of my cum – palm brushing against my clit and shuddering at the sensitivity of it all. “Cause I have to do somethin’ about this or else I’m gonna hurt in the morning. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

Running his hands through his hair again, he grinned that cheeky fucking grin once more and I couldn’t help myself. “I kinda want you to fuck me though.” I told him, watching his eyes gloss over with that same hungriness I had experienced just before. “Is that okay?” I took another sip of water as he approached me, slipping between my soft thighs to grind his denim crotch against my sensitive puss. His big hands found my hips and kept me steady, pushing us against each other.

“If you’ll let me.” He breathed as I set the glass aside, wrapping my arms around his big shoulders. I ran a palm down his bare chest, curling my fingers into his chest hair before he pushed into me again.

“Please?” I asked him quietly, feeling him thrust against me slowly, rolling his hips gently against my heating cunt. “Will you please fuck me, Mr Harris?” I asked in my best coy teenage girl voice.

“Right here.” He grunted suddenly, fingers leaving my waist to undo his belt. I was almost shocked at his abruptness, but the new idea of being so damn naughty in a place my mother and father used almost every day almost made me cum right that second. He undid his top button and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down his hairy legs and letting them pool at his ankles. He was wearing his ‘man-in-his-late-40s’ jocks, not loose fitting boxers, those tight underwear that showed me just how turned on he really was.

He let out a groan at the freedom and lack of agonising pressure, my pussy beginning to drip at the sound. I could see the outline of his cock press against the navy blue stretch of his underwear, and his thumbs hooked the elastic and suddenly pulled them down.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at his generous cock. It was big, and red and the head was leaking a lot of precum (I had learnt all about the penis it in Sex Ed and was now glad that it paid off). I reached out to touch him, my girl hands dwarfed by the width of his hips and the curve of his cock, but he took my wrist and discarded it – taking my hips and pulling me closer to the edge of the counter. “If you touch me I’ll explode.” He told me roughly, slipping two fingers into my entrance to steal some of the wet. “This probably ain’t gonna last long, I’m sorry darling.” He told me, catching my eye. “I ain’t the lad I used to be, ya know.”

“It’s okay.” I told him, mesmerised by the way he smeared my cum across his length, his fingers returning for another coat.

“I got the snip years ago.” He then said, taking a step closer and rubbing the swollen head of his dick against my clit. The way he jiggled my chubby mons with his cockhead made me shudder, and I looked back up at him guilelessly. I hadn’t even thought about the whole semen/egg thing. “So don’t worry, we’re just gonna have a bit’a fun.”

He slapped his dick against my clit for good measure and by now I was shaking, my fingers wound into his chest hair and my toes twitching nervously. Guy was going to fuck me – he was going to fuck me on my kitchen counter and he was the same age as my dad. I hadn’t even finished high school and I had just had the best orgasms of my entire life and I was going to get fucked on my kitchen bench by my dad’s best friend’s beautiful cock. He was looking down at me; eyes half-lidded and bottom lip hidden behind his top teeth as he pressed the tip of his dick against my cunt.

A roll of pleasure took me and I shuddered against him – his strong arms wrapping beneath the backs of my knees and pushing me back. I was wide open for him, spread in the night air against the sounds of the Australian wildlife – crickets and geckos chirping in the background as he pushed me against the breadbox with my pussy spread open for his ginormous cock. He tucked my ankles onto his shoulders and he rubbed my dripping slit with his throbbing head.

He sunk into me gently, only managing to get the head in as he let out a loud groan. He didn’t come but he had to regain himself, bracing a palm on the counter as he took a breath. “You’re so fucking wet, girlie.” He breathed into me, bending me further in half to claim a sloppy kiss. I was losing my mind and he wasn’t even inside of me yet. He let a breath hiss between his breath and he found himself, pushing in a little further.

I looked down at the sight and my pussy clenched around him, and he gave me another sexy moan as I realised that he wasn’t even halfway in yet. I felt fuller than I had ever felt – more than a hairbrush handle and much, much more than my puny fingers.

His dick was going so deep inside of me – I felt like I was going to crack in half. He had placed his hands on my shoulders and I arched my back – his hips using me as a brace to further his goal. I thought I was going to pass out by the time he bottomed-out in my pussy – his hairy thighs pressing against the taunt skin of my ass. We settled for a bit, breathing heavily with each other while we tried to realise the intensity of the situation.

Then he drew back out slowly and I swear I could feel each and every bit of his dick move in me, his head pushing at my entrance again – and then he slammed into me with such intensity that I almost lost my mind! I let out a shriek, and a moan, and my hands scrabbled up to grip his biceps. He pulled out again, and without any problems, smashed into my pussy once more. “Your pussy feels so good, sweetheart.” He grunted at me, annihilating me with each slap of his balls against my ass.

He began to fuck the living shit out of me, drawing back out to give me the slightest ache of emptiness, only to ram back into my cunt with such disregard for my safety. My head was hitting the tiled wall behind me softly, but I didn’t care – the moans escaping me were pitching as he drew in and out, in and out, faster each time but stopping randomly to pull out and groan.

He must have been holding it off for me, and I knew he didn’t want to come yet. Every time he left my cunt aching for his cock, he would bend down and give me a wet kiss – grinding the hot head of his dick against my clit. I was dripping all over the place, and I was beginning to slip around; wanting to stop and adjust but not wanting to be without him inside of me for one second.

My g-spot was throbbing with each jab of his curved cock, slashing my tender insides with every thrust he sunk into me. I must have been calling his name by that point, because every so often he would reach down and pinch a nipple, whispering ‘You like that, you naughty little girl? You like my cock in you?’

I slipped a little, and I barely noticed it, but it threw off his thrusting rhythm immensely. So, without any problems, he lifted me up onto him – gravity pushing me down deeply onto his throbbing dick – hissing at our closeness. My nipples were dragging through his chest hair, and he bobbed me a little, and I couldn’t help but retaliate by wrapping my legs around his hips and grinding as hard as I could. He was so deep inside me; I thought I was going to bust.

Pushing me against the pantry door, he braced me with his hands under my thighs and continued his assault on my cunt. With my clit brushed by his rough pubes, paired with the intense eye contact and the incredible fucking he was giving me, I was really close to coming. I couldn’t feel the pain of his roughness anymore, just a bloom of good feelings starting to root into my tummy. Guy was destroying me against our pantry, every thrust making the door’s hinges squeak and groan, and my ankles could barely link around his waist – but I was going to cum. I was going to cum all over his thick, old-man cock and I was going to cum HARD.

“I think I’m gonna—” I breathed at him, my mouth refusing to close after my words to leave itself hanging open, leaving me to look like a brain-dead bunny succumbed to his will. He stared at me, the passion behind his eyes almost branding me as his own, and even though it didn’t seem possible at all, he fucked me harder. So much harder that I thought we would alert the neighbours.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart? You gonna come all over my cock, baby?” He grunted at me between clenched teeth. “Pretty little girl loves my dick up in her sweet cunt, huh?”

I came so hard that it ran down his legs – and a few seconds after me, he came as well – his stubbly mouth on my own to stem the loud wail that was bursting from my mouth. He groaned into me and I drank all of him, squeezing him closer with my trembling legs as he pushed so hard against me that I felt I was going to die. My arms wrapped around the back of his neck and I shoved my tongue in his mouth – his teeth nipping me lightly before he met it with his own, the warmth of his mouth on mine adding nicely to the soft jerks of his hips.

I’d never had anyone cum inside me before, and the sensation was odd. The hot jizz was warmer than expected, filling up my womb and warming up my insides. My pussy continued to throb around his cock, even as it started to wilt, and I refused to let him go. His head fell against my shoulder and we both let out a strangled breath – and I was suddenly aware of all that was around us. My nipples were still so sensitive against his chest hair and the muscles in my legs were twitching around his wide hips.

“I think I’m dead.” I told him and he could barely muster a laugh.

“You’re not dead.”

“I’m dead. I died.” I leant in to kiss him when he pulled back to look at me. “Don’t put me down or I’ll die.”

He gave me a half-hearted kiss and turned around with me still attached, dumping me back on the counter. Pulling out of me with a soft squish, he braced his palms on the lip of the counter and leant in to give me a proper kiss. This time it was softer, sweeter, without the throb of unquenchable lust, and he cocked my head up to nibble on my neck. “You did good, girlie.” He said and I got goosebumps from his words.

He rubbed his dick against the slickness of my pussy, rolling his hips against me while I shuddered with post-orgasm jitters. “I did good?” I muttered and he grinned at me.

“You’re a good girl.” Guy told me as he ground into me, his eyelids fluttering from each sensation we gave each other.

He touched me for a while, running his hands up and down my sides and brushing his fingers against my boobs, rolling my nipples between his fingertips all while pushing against me. He got hard again after ten minutes or so – still slipping against my gushing cunt while treating me like a fragile princess – and somewhere along in that process he decided he would take me again.

Lifting me up like a doll, he carried me back to my bedroom through the darkened hallway of my childhood home – plopping me on my bed so he could crawl between my legs. Lining himself up with a familiar ease, he slipped back inside of me. It didn’t hurt this time, and he was slower – gentler with me as he thrust in my wet cunt. My pussy welcomed him warmly, tightening around him as my throat burst with sad sighs when he pulled back out again.

“I don’t think I wanna stop,” He told me as he ground his cock deep inside me. “I could fuck your pretty cunt all night, sweetheart.” And then he kissed me roughly, increasing his pace – leaving me to wrap my legs around his waist so he could intensify his thrusts.

I was groaning along with him, taking all of his old cock inside of my fresh pussy – his thickness spreading me open and making all of my delicious cunt his and his alone. “I love it,” I moaned at him. “I love your nice cock in my pussy SO much.”

“You like it when I fuck you like this, sweetheart?” He breathed in my sensitive ear, “You like it nice and slow, my little princess?”

I gasped at the familiar nickname and thrust against him, hard. “Yes I do, daddy–”

The words slipped out of me before I could stop them and suddenly I was mortified – eyes springing open awaiting his horror. But he just caught my eye and groaned louder, his gentleness gone, and he was back to fucking me relentlessly. “Yeah baby?” He spoke roughly; a raw thirst behind his eyes now, “You want daddy to fuck you harder?”

My arousal skyrocketed and I was suddenly fucking him back with twice the enthusiasm – morals be damned. “Yes daddy!” I yelped at him, feeling him stretch me with each loud thrust. “Please fuck me daddy, fuck your little girl!”

He sat up momentarily, pulling me onto his thighs as he held me by hips – my head bouncing against my mattress while the slaps of his hips against mine reverberated around my room. “Does my little girl like daddy’s cock in her cute cunt?”

“She loves it, daddy!”

“You’re a naughty girl, baby.” He told me, hitting an angle that bumped my g-spot. My squeak told him just how much I enjoyed it and he picked up his pace – his hot stare reigning over me. He watched me as I came all over his cock, and I actually shrieked this time around – his loud grunt took over the room as he held still inside of me, feeling every ripple of my pussy envelop his hot cock. Tears sprung in my eyes and I was in heaven – there was no greater feeling. I wanted him to fuck me forever.

I went limp as he continued on, eyes rolled into the back of my head while he took total control of me. “Yes please,” I whimpered with the little strength I had left, “I want you to come in me again, daddy, please.”

“I want YOU to come again, baby.” He started back up again, slapping against me before readjusting his angle. My pussy was aching now, the pleasure ebbing throughout my entire body but it just kept going! He just kept fucking me and I felt like I was free-falling into the fucking universe because his cock was the greatest thing I had ever experienced in my life! Hitting my spot again and again with his beautiful dick, Guy used me as a fuck-hole – whispering naughty things down at me while a stray hand pawed at my tits, he fucked me, and he fucked me and he fucked me so damn hard that this time, I probably did die. And I came again, this time in a babble of words and a squirt of my juices, all over his thighs.

And when he finally came, he collapsed on me, burying me with a filthy kiss and a few short thrusts – filling me with another load of his hot cum. I felt full and I felt satisfied, for the first time in weeks. I had finally gotten what I wanted, and it felt much better than I had ever dreamed it would be.

We lay together for a few minutes in blissful silence before he jerked out of his stupor, pulling out and away from me before springing from the bed. “I gotta go now, or I’ll fuckin’ pass out, girlie.” He scratched his chest, illuminated by the kitchen light from his own house. “You’ve sucked me dry.”

I scoffed at him, now just a useless blob of girl on the bed. “You’ve sucked ME dry.”

“G’night, sweetheart.” He winked at me, and I felt a flutter in my stomach. I wiggled on the bed.

“Goodnight Mr Harris.” I whispered at him “See you tomorrow.”

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