Good Girl to Slut: Emily

Note to reader: this story contains kissing, handjobs, oral sex, romantic sex, rough sex, spanking, DD/lg dirty talk in the context of an evolving BDSM dynamic.

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Emily was actually a senior in high school when I met her, which is not as dirty as it sounds. She was already 18, and taking classes at the university that I’d just graduated from. As it happened, so was I. I had a part-time job I hated, and I wasn’t ready for grad school yet, so I had enrolled in a Russian class, just as a way to keep my mind active and not go crazy from the daily grind at the restaurant I was working at during the afternoon and evening.

Emily, as it turned out, was a heritage speaker. Her parents were both from Russia, and she could speak absolutely perfectly (as far as I could tell) but had absolutely no idea how to write, and could only read very slowly, like a child who had just learned to sound out words.

It also happened that Emily was quite attractive. I wouldn’t call her “baby-faced” exactly, but she did have kind of a round face with huge brown eyes and dark curly hair. She wasn’t at all fat, but she was what you might call “curvy” in the best possible way. She had large, perky tits and an amazing ass. I wanted nothing more than to pull her over my lap for a nice long spanking.

I would have to wait a while for that opportunity. But the opportunity did come.

Because we were both “non-traditional” students in a sense, Emily and I naturally gravitated to each other in class. The other pupils all knew each other from their dorms, or from other classes or activities, but Emily and I were both outsiders.

At first she was very shy. It took a lot of time for her to come around, but after a while, she began to trust me, and we’d laugh and chat together before and after class like old friends. I’d ask her about her high school debate team tournaments, and she’d ask me about the restaurant and my coworkers.

During class we’d work together sometimes, but it was very hard for me (or anyone else) to keep up with her because she was basically a native speaker who was taking the class to learn how to read and write. This meant she was often bored, and so I took these moment to flirt with or tease her however I could.

It was all very innocent at first. She was 18, and I was 24. Too big of an age gap, right?

That changed one night when she showed up at my restaurant with a friend. She was dressed way too nicely for the place – earrings, makeup, heels – the whole nine yards. Her friend was dressed a little more appropriately for the sort of crappy TGIFriday’s-style place it was: jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes.

Her friend’s outfit only made Emily appear more striking — and beautiful — by comparison, even if she did look like someone trying to appear much older and more sophisticated than she really was.

Of course I had to go over and greet them, saying hello to her in my best Russian (which wasn’t good then, and still isn’t very good) and ask her where they’d like to sit.

She blushed and smiled, then turned away, letting her friend do the talking. It was at that moment that it started to occur to me that she might have a crush on me.

I had of course lusted after her young body, but my sense of responsibility had forbidden me from ever entertaining the idea of entering into a relationship with her. It sounds strange to people from other cultures, perhaps, but in the USA there is a huge difference between an 18-year-old and a 24-year-old.

That night, however, it was clear that she was trying to signal something to me. She acted a bit more aloof, grown up. The next day in class there was a strange tension. She came in late and didn’t sit next to me.

I went up to her afterwards and followed her outside.

“Hey Emily,” I said, “everything ok?”

She stopped, but didn’t turn.

“Do you think I’m just a silly high school student?”

“Well, you are in high school aren’t you?”

She turned and looked up at me. We were standing very close now.

“I’m 18 years old.”

“I know.”

I could feel the tension. It almost seemed like she was going to hit me or push me away. But then, suddenly, she went in for a kiss.

This caught me totally off guard.

She pressed her lips so hard into mine that her teeth hit mine. It hurt.

I pushed her back gently.

“Emily,” I said, “I don’t know if that’s really what you want…”

She blushed deeply, then turned away. I could tell she was going to cry.

“What if I were already in college?”

Three tears rolled down her round cheeks.

I put my arm around her to comfort her.

“Look, Emily,” I said, “it’s not that I don’t *want* to.”

“Then why *don’t* you?”

In that split second, I asked myself the same question. I cupped one of her cheeks in my large hand and pulled her in for another kiss, this one slow and sensual.

Slowly pulled away and smiled at her.

“How was that?”

“Otlichna,” she replied. Perfect.

I looked up and saw some of the other students from the class who had seen what happened, and decided we’d best change venues.

“Here’s my number,” I said, writing on a piece of paper, “text me tonight when you get home.”

“I don’t have a cell phone,” she said, blushing (this was in the early 2000s, so it was totally normal).

“Give me a call, then.”

“Ok.”

My phone rang at 6:00 that evening, and by pure coincidence I was late to work, otherwise I would have missed her call.

“It’s me,” she said, “I want to talk about what happened today.”

“I want to too,” I said, “but I have to work until nine. Can you meet me afterwards?”

She told me she’d meet me in a church parking lot near her house. I agreed.

Part of me thought I should have broken it off there. And I probably should have. But another part of me was very curious about what might happen.

I drove up to the parking lot a little later than the agreed-upon time, feeling not unlike a criminal, even though I was going to meet another consenting adult.

Emily was nowhere to be found. I stopped the car and was about to shut off the engine, when I suddenly saw a figure in a black hooded sweatshirt emerge from a field next to the church and approach my car. It was Emily.

She got in on the passenger side and said “we don’t have much time. My parents think I went for a walk.”

She scooted over closer to me, but was thwarted by the armrest, which I pushed up and out of the way. The next thing I knew, she was on my lap and her tongue was in my mouth.

After a long kiss, I stopped and looked at her.

“I thought we were going to talk about what happened,” I said.

“I did too. But it turns out that some things are more fun than talking.”

I grabbed her and pulled her close to me, working my fingers into her thick curly hair as we kissed once more. It was like being back in highschool, and my cock was as hard as it would have been then too. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to take off her clothes, bend her over somewhere and fuck that tight teenage pussy as hard as I could.

Alas, it was not to be. At least not for a while.

I reached behind her and unhooked her bra strap with one hand as we kissed, eager to escalate the encounter.

She moaned in excitement as my hand slipped up her shirt and cupped one of her wonderful breasts for the first time. I got as far as teasing her nipples on both breasts until they were hard little points and grinding her crotch into my leg before she pulled away.

“I’ve gotta go,” she blurted, “here’s my address. Come by tomorrow at 3:00, but go up the back path from the bike trail behind the house. Knock on the glass door on the deck. I’ll let you in.”

She handed me a piece of notebook paper, folded like the kind of note you might pass in school.

“Park around the corner, not in front of the house,” she added, just before she slammed the car door and disappeared into the night.

You can bet that I got in my car and parked around the corner from her house, just like she said. My blood was pumping hard as I found the bike path and the located her house from behind.

I jogged up the hill to her house quickly. It was a pretty nice place. She’d told me before that her dad was an engineer of some sort.

I stepped onto the back deck and saw the glass door. I raised my fist to knock, but all of a sudden, there was Emily, grinning at me mischievously.

She threw open the door and looked around quickly, then grabbed me by the hand and led me into an office of some kind, with a desk and a couch. There was a window looking out onto the street.

“We can keep an eye out from here,” she said.

“Are you expecting your parents to come back?”

“No, I’m just nervous. They don’t let me date.”

“I see,” I said.

I wasn’t sure if we were actually “dating,” but I did want to see how far things would go.

She pushed me back onto the couch and straddled me, grinding into me as we kissed. The time she put my hands on her boobs myself.

I reached back and undid her bra again, then tried to pull her shirt over her head.

She grabbed my arm to stop me.

“No,” she said, her face flushed with arousal, “I need to be able to get dressed again quickly.”

“Ok,” I said. Mindful of the gap in age between us, I wanted to respect her boundaries, no matter how little sense they might make to me.

She smiled.

“Thanks,” she said, “I know it’s kind of silly. I’m just not…that experienced I guess.”

“It’s ok,” I said, “let’s take it slow.”

“Well,” she said, still straddling me, “I would like to do something for you if it’s ok.”

“Sure,” I said, “of course.”

She looked down at my bulging package.

“May I?”

She smiled up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

I nodded.

She tried to unbuckle my belt herself but the angle was too awkward and I had to help her. She undid the button of my jeans and unzipped the fly.

I helped her pull my jeans down to my ankles, leaving me in a vulnerable state, should I actually have had to flee from her parents. But I was too hard to care much about that.

She touched my cock through my underwear gingerly, then pulled back for a moment before grasping it a bit more firmly.

Suddenly, she burst out in laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I don’t know why, but I was thinking it was going to be a lot smaller. I’ve never actually seen one before. I thought it might be the size of a tampon applicator or something.”

“But you felt it before,” I said, genuinely puzzled, “you could tell it was bigger than that.”

She giggled again.

“No, I could just tell that it was hard,” she said, “I had no idea what size it was. I’m sorry for laughing.”

“It’s ok,” I said, “every guy wants to hear that his dick is big.”

“Ok, well that’s big,” she blurted.

“Thank you.”

“Can I see the whole thing?”

“Promise you won’t be scared?” I teased.

She blushed.

“It’s just not what I expected is all…”

I pulled down my boxer briefs to reveal my erection.

She touched it gingerly with a finger, then ran her palm down the underside.

“How do you like to be touched?”

Her eyes were smoldering. She was an extremely attractive woman, even if she was inexperienced.

“Some kind of lubrication helps,” I said.

She smiled.

“I’ll be right back.”

For a moment, I was left there alone, on the couch in a strange house, with my pants around my ankles and my dick out, scarcely understanding what I’d gotten myself into, or how.

The room was definitely an office. There were cheap bookshelves from ikea on the walls, as well as a large, elegant glass case filled with small crystal liqueur glasses which looked out of place.

The ticking of the clock on the wall became deafening as I sat there in silence, watching the driveway in front for any sign of Emily’s parents.

Finally, she returned.

“This is all I’ve got,” she said, waving a bottle of hand lotion, “and it’s scented.”

“That’s fine,” I said.

She squeezed some into her palm.

“Sorry if my hands are cold.”

“No worries.”

I wish I could say that Emily was a natural, but unfortunately that wasn’t true. She grabbed much too tightly at first, jerking me hard with her hand until I gently told her to back off.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

Still, despite a rocky start, she did take instruction quite well. After a few minutes I was feeling great.

“Can I see your tits?” I asked.

“Ok,” she said, “you can do what you want, but don’t take my shirt off.”

I nodded, reaching down her shirt in front and cupping a breast.

In the meantime, she was stroking my shaft much too quickly again.

“Slow down,” I urged, “just tease it a little with your fingers.”

She leaned in for a kiss as she stroked just the tip.

“Does that feel good?” she whispered.

“Mm hmmm.”

“Are you going to…you know…”

“Cum?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll tell you when.”

“Ok.”

No matter how uncomfortable the handjob was at times (from a physical standpoint), the sight of this busty 18-year-old on the couch next to me with my cock in her hand was almost enough on its own to bring me to orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” I groaned, “just keep doing that. I’m almost there.”

She stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I had an itch. I’ll keep going now.”

This interruption had the effect of making me come back from the edge for a moment.

“Play with my balls,” I said.

She grabbed them with one hand and squeezed.

I cringed.

“Not so hard. Just sort of tickle them. While you stroke it.”

“How’s this?”

“Perfect.”

It took awhile for her to get back into a rhythm, but soon I was bucking my hips up to her hand, fucking her palm, as she fondled my balls while we kissed.

My hands were all over her tits in the meantime, exploring them in just the way I’d wanted to in the car. They were soft and firm in all the right ways; springy yet supple: perfect. I only wished I could have seen them better.

“Yes that’s it,” I said, getting closer, “don’t change anything. Just keep going.”

She moaned in assent.

“Oh yes, so good…”

I lifted my T-shirt to clear a space for what I knew was coming next.

“Here it comes,” I moaned, shooting spurt after spurt across my own chest.

“Ha, oh my god!” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe how much there is. When does it stop?”

“It’s over.”

“Did that feel good?”

“It was great.”

I kissed her, and she rushed away to get a washcloth.

Once we’d cleaned ourselves, we returned to the couch and sat together looking out the window. I put my arm around her and kissed her forehead.

“That was fun,” I said.

“I know it wasn’t the best for you,” she said, “but I want to get better.”

“I guess you could use me for practice,” I smiled.

“Only if you promise to guide me.”

I chuckled.

“I’m serious! I want to learn. I’ve never done any of this stuff before and I want to try it all now.”

“What else would you like to try?”

“Everything. But not right away.”

“Sure,” I said, “of course not. We can take our time.”

“I’d like that.”

I kissed her again: firmly yet gently.

“Can you come by tomorrow? Same time?”

“Absolutely – of course!”

The next day, we actually had Russian class again, but it was a test day, which meant we didn’t have to interact at all. Emily was the first one finished, as usual, and by the time I had handed in my exam she was gone.

No matter, we had our date.

“I want to try a blowjob,” she said as we sat on her parents’ couch once again.

“Giving or receiving?” I joked.

“Ha ha. You know what I mean,” she said, punching my arm, “can I?”

“I don’t think any man could say ‘no’ to that.”

She smiled at me, then got down on her knees on the floor, tugging at my belt.

Once again, I helped her get it out.

“Still as big as you remember?” I grinned.

“Even bigger from this angle.”

She took the shaft in her hand, looking up at me.

“How do I start?”

“Just put the tip of it in your mouth first. Give it some kisses.”

She followed my instructions. Her lips were soft, but her mouth was a bit dry.

“Don’t be afraid to use a lot of saliva,” I said.

“Like spit on it? Ew.”

“If you want, but that’s not what I meant,” I laughed, “how about getting a glass of water?”

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of ice water.

“Will that make it cold?”

“A little,” I said, “but the extra lubrication will be great.”

“Ok,” she said, smiling up at me with her big brown eyes as she took a long drink.

“You really have the perfect lips for this,” I said.

She blushed.

“Thanks.”

She started kissing the shaft again, holding it gingerly in one hand, perhaps hesitant after she’d proven too rough during the handjob yesterday.

“Yes, that’s good,” I said, “lick it a little. Gently.”

She began to lick at the bottom of my cockhead.

“Very good,” I said, “now get the whole shaft wet with your tongue.”

She started licking up and down the sides of the shaft.

“How low should I go?”

“Lick my balls, too.”

She obeyed, holding the shaft with one hand as her tongue caressed the underside of my scrotum. It was almost too much.

“That’s good,” I said, “now take the tip in your mouth, and bob up and down on it.”

She came back up to the tip and took it between her lips, then pressed the head to the roof of her mouth.

“Ouch,” I said, as she scraped the tip against her upper incisors, “try not to use your teeth.”

“Sorry,” she said, pulling the cock out for a moment.

“It’s ok.”

She put it back in her mouth, this time carefully avoiding using her teeth on my shaft. I have to say, it was much better than her handjob. And I loved watching her cute brunette head bob up and down in my lap, while I surveyed the strange decor of the office.

“Ok,” I said, “now stroke it with your hand while you suck the tip.”

“Should I blow on it?”

“What?”

“Sorry…I thought there would be more blowing…”

“That’s just what it’s called,” I laughed, “there’s no blowing.”

“Ok. That clears up some things,” she said thoughtfully.

I couldn’t help but chuckle again.

“I bet it does. Keep going,” I urged.

Now the whole shaft was wet, and she began to stroke it with one hand as she sucked the tip. I began to thrust up towards her, but I was careful not to overwhelm her. Still, a few times I got carried away and thrust a bit too deeply and she gagged.

“Sorry,” she said, “that must be really gross for you.”

“Actually…,” I said, “I find it hot.”

“When I gag? Weirdo!”

She rolled her eyes and went back to sucking.

Soon, despite the fact that this was nowhere near the best blowjob I’d ever had (or that Emily would ever give me) I was close to cumming again.

“Emily,” I said, “I’m going to cum soon. You have to decide where you’re going to take it.”

She stopped and looked up at me.

“What do *you* want?”

“In your mouth,” I said, “but that might be a lot for the first time.”

“I want what you want,” she said, closing her full lips around my shaft once again and letting out a short, feminine moan of satisfaction which drove me crazy.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned, “oh yes, Emily. Oh yes. Here it comes. Don’t stop.”

I shot a huge load straight into the poor unsuspecting girl’s mouth. She gagged as the first spurt hit the back of her throat, and instinctively pulled my cock out of her mouth and coughed into her hand.

Unfortunately, my orgasm was far from over, and she was now pointing my cock directly at her own forehead, which is where the next shot landed.

Recoiling in surprise and disgust, she managed to aim the next shot at her chest. I was pleased to see it hit her cleavage, but it also soiled her blouse, which I knew she wouldn’t like.

Not only had Emily given her first blowjob, she’d also received her first facial!

To my surprise, she didn’t blame me for this mess, rather herself.

“I guess I messed that up, didn’t I?” she laughed, holding her cum-filled hands away from her body and squinting in case the semen on her forehead dripped into her eyes.

“Not at all, that was great!”

“You’re just being nice. Look at me – I’m covered in sticky stuff. Gross!”

“I don’t think it’s gross. I think it’s super fucking hot.”

“Ew, really? What other kinds of weird stuff do you think is hot, weirdo?”

She went to the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later, wearing a new shirt.

“Any tips on how to get this stuff off my blouse? You’ve been dealing with it all your life, I assume.”

“I’ve head cold water works better than warm water.”

“Thanks, I’ll try it.”

I thought that might be the end of our amorous liaisons, but I had seriously underestimated Emily’s desire to learn from me.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked, “you have to give me another shot. I can do better than that. That was like totally pathetic.”

“Well,” I said, “I guess I could get someone to take my shift…”

“Great!” she said, “now get lost – I have homework to do.”

I pulled my pants up and gave her a kiss before heading out the back door and down the bike path to my parked car, pondering this very strange, and kind of amazing situation.

I was basically teaching a smoking hot teenage girl about sex. With no strings attached.

But of course there were strings attached, and because it was Emily, those were kind of weird strings. First of all, she was very particular about what I was allowed to do with her, how I was allowed to touch her.

I managed to massage her clit through her underwear on several occasions, and even slip a finger inside her a few times, but it took a long time before she would take her pants off around me. Partially this was due to her paranoid conviction that her parents would burst through the door at anytime, and partially it was probably due to an ambivalence on her part about what exactly was “going on” between us. We weren’t exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, but we weren’t *not* that either.

I enjoyed her company immensely, even beyond the sexual aspects, and I know she felt the same way about me. But her parents and our age difference made it awkward to find things to do in public together, so we defaulted to meeting secretly, in her house, which gave each encounter an erotic charge. Each time I came over, it was as if we had to make up for lost time somehow.

More than anything, Emily wanted to make up for lost time. She was hungry to learn, and more than anything else, hungry to please me. She wasn’t so interested in being pleased herself. I offered to go down on her several times, but she always refused. I came to realize that her drive to please was ultimately also a drive to retain control over the situation. As long as she was the one getting *me* off, she didn’t have to worry about her own reaction or her own feelings. It was all about what I wanted.

This was great, for a long time.

Over the next month or so, I went to her house three or four times a week and she got me off each and every time. She became an expert at giving head in a short period of time.

She also got over her reluctance to take off her shirt in front of me, and began to let me cum on her beautiful tits.

She practiced jerking me off, sucking me off, using her tits to jerk me off, and she even began to try to deepthroat me. She let me cum on her face several times, and she also got very adept at swallowing.

I even asked her to lick my cum off of a plate once. Another time, I had her drink it from a glass.

“You’re into some weird stuff,” she told me, but grinned and tipped the glass back. There was something so incredible about the knowledge that she was doing these filthy things as a virgin who, only weeks before, had never even touched a penis.

Slowly, she allowed me more and more freedoms when it came to touching her. We moved from the couch in the office to a rug in the den. (Her bedroom was still off limits). We would make out on the floor and she would let me finger her and rub her clit. Several times I could tell she was close to orgasm, but she always told me to stop right when things were getting good.

I tried to talk to her about it, and the most I could get her to say was that her reluctance had to do with her upbringing, which had been quite religious, but also strict in other ways too. She was the only child of immigrants who wanted nothing more than for her to succeed in school and life, and they’d recognized early on that the one thing that could sabotage their daughter was a boyfriend.

And they’d managed to keep her away from boys until then. She’d kissed a guy before — once, in the eighth grade — but that was the most she’d done before meeting me. So she felt like she had a lot to catch up on.

Then came the end of the semester and the winter holidays. We didn’t make a big deal about class being over, but I did tell her that I was going to visit my parents for three weeks and then on a trip to New York for a week after that. She shrugged her shoulders and asked if I wanted to come over before I left. I told her that, unfortunately, I had a lot to do to get ready for the trip (which was true).

I felt bad about it, but she didn’t seem overly concerned.

These were the early days of social media. I didn’t have Facebook or MySpace, and if she did, I didn’t know about it. We also didn’t have each other’s email addresses, so I had no idea if I’d ever see her again.

That’s why I was very pleasantly surprised when she called me a week after New Years.

“It’s me,” she said, “I’m out of school for a week. My parents are gone. Come over.”

I agreed.

I came to the back door as usual. As usual, Emily opened before I could even knock.

This time she led me not to the office, or the rug, but to the kitchen table. I knew something had changed.

“There’s something I want to tell you,” she said, gesturing to a chair.

I sat. Was this our break-up conversation?

“I did something over break…”

“Ok…something with another guy?”

“No! Why, did you kiss another girl?”

I thought it was funny that *kissing* was what she was worried about, given the fact that she’d had my cock in her mouth almost continuously for a month.

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I went on the pill,” she blurted, blushing.

“Wow,” I said, “ok. So you want to…?”

“Yes,” she said, putting her hand on mine, “but we have to go slow, ok?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Ok.”

She took me by the hand down a hallway I’d never been down before. I quickly realized we were going to her bedroom.

I remember being a little surprised at how “girly” the room looked. She was 18, but also still in high school.

It seemed like everything in the room was either pink or white. There were posters of kittens on the wall, and a couple of teddy bears on the large fluffy bed. She was definitely still a good girl in the eyes of her parents.

The wholly innocent look of the room only gave an additional charge to the erotic atmosphere.

Emily was clearly nervous.

She walked over to her bed and took my hands in hers, drawing me in for a gentle kiss.

“Don’t do anything weird,” she whispered, “I know you’re kind of a perv.”

I smiled.

“I won’t.”

We kissed gently for a few minutes, then with increasing intensity. I gently pushed her back onto the bed and reached behind her to unbuckle her bra.

After a few minutes of kissing her lips and neck while fondling her breasts, I pulled her shirt over her head.

“Yours too,” she said, smiling up at me.

I pulled my own shirt off as well, then leaned to touch my bare chest to hers, the first time we’d ever actually done it. It was strangely intimate, I remember thinking, strange because it felt even more intimate than having my dick sucked.

She must have felt the same way, because she was trembling now. She could tell that I had noticed, and blushed.

“Sorry,” she said, “I’m kind of nervous.”

“That’s ok,” I whispered, my mouth next to her ear, “I think it’s cute.”

“Weirdo.”

She smiled up at me and started kissing me again.

Slowly, carefully and gently, I began to focus my attention on her lower body.

I kissed down her neck and chest, taking several long minutes to worship and tease her beautiful, pert nipples with my lips, tongue and fingertips.

She sighed and moaned in satisfaction the entire time.

Slowly, I moved away from her breasts, kissing down her torso until my mouth was at her belly button. I unbuttoned her jeans and began to peel them off her. She had to help, but soon they were lying on the floor of her room and I was staring at her pubic ridge covered by nothing but a pair of white cotton panties with pink butterflies. The panties matched the color scheme of her room perfectly.

I thought about making a joke about this, but her legs were trembling again.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Emily?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding and blushing furiously, “I’m sorry I’m being so lame. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s ok,” I said, “don’t worry about it.”

I reached underneath the waistband of her panties with both hands and slowly peeled them down over her legs, exposing a neatly trimmed bush. This was different. The times that I’d fingered her, she’d always been complete ungroomed down there.

“I don’t know what you like,” she stammered, “so I thought I’d try this.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, noticing for the first time how soft her pubic hair was, “it’s just how I like it.”

I began to kiss her inner thighs, taking my time as I moved slowly towards her vulva and clit. Her legs twitched and she cooed and moaned in a high-pitched tone of voice I couldn’t help but find adorable. It was clear that she felt extremely vulnerable, and I felt extremely privileged to be the first one to do this for her.

Finally, I began to kiss her lips and gently lick around her clit. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed. I moaned a bit to let her know how much I was enjoying pleasuring her.

After a few minutes, I took a break and looked up at her. She was flushed, with drops of sweat on her forehead.

“You taste wonderful,” I said.

“Thanks.”

She pulled me back up towards her and kissed me full on the lips.

“I think I’m ready,” she said.

“Ok,” I said, “do you have a condom? I didn’t bring one because I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“You don’t need one,” she said, “I want to feel just you the first time.”

I didn’t stop to wonder if she was telling the truth about being on the pill. The thought of fucking her bare was enough to drive every other consideration out of my mind. And besides, from what I knew of her already she was a fastidiously cautious person.

“Ok,” I said.

We kissed again, and I reached down and began to undo my pants.

“Where are my manners?” she grinned, “I should help you with that!”

All of a sudden, her shyness seemed to be gone, and she climbed on top of me and pulled down my jeans and underwear, devouring my cock like she had so many times before. From this angle, I could admire her amazing young tits.

After probably less than a minute of her now-incredible oral skills, I had to stop her.

“That’s good,” I said, “you don’t want me to cum yet.”

She grinned up at me, wiping some spit from her chin.

“Ok,” she said, “where were we?”

She flipped back down onto the bed, clearly signaling that I should take control again.

I reached down between her legs and was pleased to find her even wetter than she’d been when I was going down on her. Sucking cock obviously really turned her on.

I slipped just the tip of a finger inside her and was pleased to find that she was extremely tight, though not so tight that we would need to abandon the project altogether.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“It could hurt a little at first.”

“I know,” she said, “I’m trying to relax. I read that that makes it easier.”

“For sure.”

I pressed the head of my raging hard cock to her virginal entrance, trying to get the right angle.

Slowly, I worked just the tip of the head inside, until I began to meet resistance.

“Ok,” I said, “take a deep breath.”

She breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly as I began to push. She bit her lip, breathing out through her nose, and closed her eyes as if concentrating.

I pressed forward firmly yet (I thought) gently. She groaned.

“It’s ok,” she assured me, her eyes tensely closed, “you can keep going.”

I pulled out just a bit and worked the tip back into position, then pressed ahead again, this time harder.

“Oooo,” she squealed.

I groaned in exertion, unsure if the angle was correct, thinking I might never get inside her in this way, when suddenly I pushed through the resistance and plunged into her.

Half of my cock was now lodged firmly in her warm, wet young pussy. Her eyes shot open and she gazed into mine, looking more beautiful in that moment than I’d ever seen her before.

“Almost there,” I said, gently pulling out a bit and then pushing into her to the hilt. As I did so, she bit her lip again, letting out an adorable little squeak.

“How’s that?” I asked, “I’m all the way inside now.”

“It’s…ok,” she said, hesitating, “just keep going.”

I pulled back and took another stroke. I’d never been inside a pussy as warm wet and tight as hers. It was a simply incredible feeling.

I pushed her legs back a bit to try to go even deeper. She looked up at me, her face a sweet mixture of concern and complete submission.

“Go ahead,” she whispered, “I want you to take me.”

Those words, “take me,” almost brought me to the edge. I almost couldn’t speak. I began to fuck her, slowly at first, because almost all of my effort was devoted to trying not to cum.

Maybe she understood this, because next she whispered, “just do what feels good to you.”

I groaned, plunging into her just a few dozen times before I shot my load, deep into her virgin cunt, holding myself there buried to the hilt, each spurt hitting her cervix.

“Did you…?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little sheepishly, “sorry it didn’t last longer.”

“It lasted just long enough,” she smiled, “stay inside for a while. It feels really wet now.”

I leaned down and kissed her, slowly realizing that my cock was still rock hard, and would probably be ready to go again quite soon. Oh to be 24 again!

Her eyes glimmered as I began to thrust again, slowly at first, then more and more forcefully but with an inconsistent rhythm.

“Does it feel good?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said, “but also a little strange. It’s nice.”

She kissed me sweetly.

“It certainly seemed like you enjoyed it.”

“Oh yes. You feel amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

She was positively glowing now as I moved in her, making love to her tenderly.

I reached down and grabbed her hand as I thrust into her a bit harder and more rhymically.

She started to moan a little, and closed her eyes again, concentrating on the sensations.

I pushed her legs up and back to facilitate even deeper penetration. I wanted to open her completely to me.

“Fuck,” I groaned, supporting myself with my arms as I began to pummel her tight cunt, “you’re so tight I can’t believe it.”

She smiled without opening her eyes. I knew I was not far from cumming again. I wanted to help her reach climax as well, but I also realized it was probably unrealistic, given the fact that I’d never given her an orgasm before and that it was her very first time being penetrated.

“I’m going to cum,” I groaned, slamming into her harder now.

“Go ahead,” she panted in a hoarse whisper, “cum inside me please.”

The sound of this beautiful young girl begging me to fill her drove me over the edge. I emptied myself inside her, my balls shooting so hard that they ached afterwards.

I collapsed on top of her and gave her a long kiss.

“That was nice,” she said, her face glowing, “and it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”

I slowly pulled out of her, noticing a bit of blood on my shaft.

“It was wonderful for me,” I said, “I wish I could have made you cum, though.”

“That’s ok,” she said, “I like making you feel good. And I’ve never had an orgasm before. At least I don’t think I have.”

“I think you’d know if you had.”

“Yeah, I guess I would,” she said.

We cuddled for a while, then she kicked me out, still paranoid that her parents might come home unexpectedly.

“We’re doing this again soon,” she said assertively as she kissed me before I walked out the back door.

And we did do it. Not the next day (because she was still sore) and not the day after that (though she did give me one of her now-expert blowjobs) but a few days later. And several times the next week as well.

The first five or so times we very similar to the first time. I had to work to get inside her, we made love tenderly in the missionary position, with only one of us achieving climax (me).

Soon, however, Emily began to want to explore new positions and techniques. And with time, it became clear that this girl absolutely *loved* cock. She craved it. There was no polite way to say it. I was witnessing the awakening of a sexually voracious young woman.

The more we experimented, then closer she got to having an orgasm while we were fucking, until one day, when I was fucking her from behind (she was face down on the bed, a pillow under her lower body with her legs closed), a change came over her.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, “oh god don’t stop.”

I concentrated on keeping my own orgasm at bay as I slammed into her tight pussy from behind, feeling her tense up as she began to emit adorable high-pitched shrieks with every thrust, the bedsheets clenched in her fists.

“OH GOD OH GOD YES!!”

And with that, Emily had her first orgasm. The feeling of her pussy contracting on my cock, accompanied by her yells of passion, caused me to lose control as well, and I shot a gigantic load directly at her cervix.

“That was amazing…” she said breathlessly, after I’d pulled out and flopped onto the bed beside her, “can we do it again?”

“I can try,” I said, “do we have time?”

She looked at her clock.

“We should be ok for another 20 minutes or so.”

She smiled at me mischievously and slid down the bed to prepare me for the next round by cleaning my cock with her mouth.

I was sore, but ready to go again soon.

And so was Emily. This time, it didn’t take nearly as long, and I wasn’t nearly as close to cumming as I had been before.

We tried the same position: her on her stomach, a pillow underneath her hips, and her legs close and stretched behind her as I entered her from above.

I brought her to orgasm three more times in this position before finally cumming again myself. It would actually be more accurate to say that she brought herself to orgasm, in a sense, because she had finally been able to figure out the combination of mental and physical adjustments she needed in order to climax.

More than anything that I had done, Emily had moved past her own psychological blocks concerning her sexual desire. Unlike women who cannot orgasm from penetration alone, Emily seemed to *require* a hard dick. This was good news for me, of course, because it meant that I was in great demand.

I suggested that she get a dildo, and even offered to buy it for her, but she was afraid that her parents would somehow find out about it.

“Besides,” she said, “a cock isn’t nearly as nice without the person attached.”

I wholeheartedly agreed.

So we continued to fuck, in secret, after school, at her house. She never wanted to see my place, and she never asked much about where I lived. I offered to have her over sometime, but she was afraid her parents might get suspicious and wonder where she was. I wondered if they weren’t already suspicious about the number of times she was changing the sheets and/or washing the towels that we used during our sessions, but that was something that she took care of.

I became gradually more comfortable at her house, which was strange because I was an interloper. Her parents wouldn’t have recognized me at all and probably would have called the police if they’d seen me there. But more and more, I began to, as they say, “make myself at home.”

What this meant practically speaking was that I began to fuck Emily in different rooms. While I loved the girlish, innocent charm of her bedroom, which contrasted so erotically with the sight of my cock disappearing into her tight cunt from behind, other rooms in the house had their distinct attractions and advantages as well.

One case in point was the family room, just outside of her bedroom, where there was a large comfortable couch in front of a fireplace. On the mantle was a family portrait, all family members looking stern and serious, as I imagined them to be most of the time, and as was fitting for immigrants from a country where smiling in public is taken as a sign of weakness.

One particularly memorable afternoon, I had Emily bent over the back of the couch, her jeans and panties at her ankles as she stood on her tiptoes to accommodate me ramming her from behind.

Up to this point, while I’d been fairly rough at times when it came to fucking her, I hadn’t incorporated any kind of dirty talk or other rough play. That changed now. Slowly at first, then more quickly than I ever would have imagined.

As I fucked her, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, gently at first and then more firmly, so that the family portrait was in her field of vision.

Not soon after (and not coincidentally), she reached a shuddering climax. I was not finished, and she knew it, so she dropped to her knees and took my cock in her mouth, looking up at me and sucking as if desperate for my cum. It didn’t take long for me to shoot directly down her throat, stroking her head gently as my leg twitched.

“That was so naughty,” she said, smiling up at me, “doing such dirty things right here. With that picture in front of us.”

“You like being a naughty girl, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do.”

“But you seem so nice.”

“That’s what everyone thinks, isn’t it?”

“Everyone except me.”

“I like being naughty for you,” she smiled.

From then on, we began to incorporate more and more dirty talk into our play.

I started calling her a “good girl” or “bad girl” depending on the context. I also started to cautiously incorporate more and more dirty talk concerning her parents, especially her dad.

“What would your daddy say if he saw you like this?” I asked one day as she knelt on the carpet of her room devouring my cock. Her only answer was a moan accompanied by a smoldering glance upward.

“You’re not his innocent little girl anymore, are you?”

“Mmm-mm,” she agreed, her mouth full of cock.

“You’re *my* good girl now.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And you do bad things for *me.*”

“Mmmmmm.”

This seemed to get her going even more. I decided to test the waters a bit.

“Emily,” I said, “be a good girl and touch your pussy for me while you suck my dick.”

I knew from our conversations that she had never masturbated before. As hard as it might be to believe, it was entirely plausible given her upbringing.

Now, however, at my command, her hand shot between her legs and into her jeans and she began to pleasure herself.

“Good girl,” I said, “get that tight little pussy nice and wet for me.”

She began to moan on my cock, looking up at me in devotion as she played with her clit. It was clear that she knew now how she needed to be touched, and was no longer shy about doing it herself. Slowly, she seemed to lose the ability to concentrate on blowing me, and became completely engrossed in exploring her newfound self-pleasure.

“It’s ok,” I said, gently pushing her away from my cock, “make yourself cum for me. I want to watch.”

I sat back on the edge of the bed, stroking my cock slowly with one hand as I watched the beautiful teenager kneeling in front of me with a hand in her jeans fall completely into herself.

She closed her eyes tightly and blushed as she bit her lip, varying the pace of her self-administered clitoral massage according to a rhythm I could not follow, but one which clearly echoed from the most profound parts of her being.

She opened her mouth now, parting her lips slightly as she moaned.

“Yes, oh God yes!”

“Keep going Emily,” I said, “cum like a good girl for me.”

Just at that moment, as if on command, her body tensed and she bent forward slightly, completely lost to herself in pleasure. Her lower body quivered for several seconds as she held her hand in place, not moving it at all as her face flushed pink and pale in succession.

It was a beautiful, amazingly erotic sight.

Finally, she moaned one last time then removed her fingers from her pants and looked up at me.

“That. Was amazing.”

“Sorry you didn’t try it a long time ago?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She crawled forward a bit towards the bed, and started to lick my balls.

“When you told me to cum and called me a ‘good girl’ it sent me over the edge,” she said, after a few seconds, “I never thought that hearing something like that could be so hot.”

“We can try it more often,” I said, “why don’t you start by getting that cock in your mouth.”

“Yes sir,” she said, beaming.

She moaned softly as she took the head between her lips.

“Such a good girl. You’re doing such a good job sucking that big dick,” I said.

She moaned in enthusiasm, so I continued.

“But what would your daddy think if he saw his sweet little girl on her knees with an older man’s dick in her mouth?”

“MMMM,” she moaned, blushing, but also taking me deeper and stroking more quickly.

“He’d think his little girl wasn’t such a good girl anymore,” I continued, driven by a lust that didn’t give me time to consider what I said next, “he’d think his little girl was really a slut.”

Slut. The word seemed to hang in the air. I knew it was a word with a lot of baggage for many girls. Some women I’d been with had asked to be called it; some had merely tolerated it on occasion. A few (including my highschool girlfriend) had told me in no uncertain terms that the word was completely offensive to them.

I had no idea how Emily might react. There was a chance that I’d blown things with her, irrevocably.

But I had a feeling I hadn’t.

She turned bright red, then pulled my cock out of her mouth and looked up at me, flushed with desire.

“That’s so fucking hot. Oh my God.”

“You like that you little slut? You like being my little cocksucker?”

She blushed, but nodded.

“Suck that dick, sweetheart,” I groaned, “make me cum like a good little girl.”

This drove her to give me one of the best blowjobs she ever had. She took me as deep as possible, over and over, tears staining her cheeks and trails of spit dripping down her chin. Finally, when I was close, she pulled off of my cock and stroked it, looking up at me.

“Cum for me please?”

I lost control that instant, coating her mouth, tongue, lips and chin with my seed.

“So fucking good…” I moaned.

She smiled up at me, then started to stand to get a towel.

I put a hand on her shoulder.

“A good slut would eat it.”

She smiled and began to feed herself the cum on her lips and chin, slowly licking her fingers clean as she did.

“Such a naughty girl,” I teased, “what would your daddy say?”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” she teased.

“What would he do if I did?”

“He’d get mad and probably ground me. He might even spank me.”

“Spank you? Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, “he hasn’t done it since I was in the sixth grade, but he’s threatened it.”

“Well…,” I said, testing the waters once again, “what if I told you that I actually like to spank naughty girls like you. And that they like it too, quite a bit?”

She smiled.

“That sounds really naughty. I don’t think my daddy would like anyone else spanking his little girl.”

“Well,” I said, “we don’t have to tell him, you know.”

“It can be our secret,” she said, licking her fingers again before standing up so she could sit next to me on the bed.

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, then put her lips to my ears and whispered something that made my cock hard again instantly.

“Maybe you could be my new Daddy? I’d like to try calling you that.”

She noticed the effect the words had on my cock and laughed softly.

“I think you like being called ‘Daddy’, don’t you, Daddy?”

I nodded.

When we discussed it at length much later, I found out that she’d been secretly reading erotica for years, and was especially attracted to the stories about young women who call older men “Daddy.” She wasn’t nearly as innocent as she’d seemed, even if she had really been almost totally inexperienced.

This was much more than merely fine with me of course. Being called “Daddy” was (and remains) one of my biggest kinks.

At the time, though, I thought she had somehow come up with the idea spontaneously, on her own, in some kind of flash of kinky brilliance.

“Ok Daddy,” she said, nuzzling close to me and beginning to stroke my cock, “I’m going to make you cum one more time and then you have to leave.”

I nodded.

She began to stroke my cock a bit faster, grabbing my balls gently in her other hand as she’d been taught, looking up at me with her big eyes and biting her lip as she teased me with my new nickname.

“Am I doing a good job stroking your dick, Daddy? Do you like it when your little girl jacks you off like this?”

“Fuck yes.”

She only had to moan “oh Daddy” a few more times before I shot my load high into the air. She shrieked as it splattered onto the carpet.

“Fuck! I’m going to have to get the stain remover. Get out of here!”

She thrust a box of tissues in my direction and ran for the closet. I cleaned up and headed for the door.

“See you tomorrow, Daddy?” she said sweetly, appearing next to me just as I was about to leave, “I’ll try to be a good girl until then.”

“I’m not sure if I believe you,” I said, “but we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

We kissed, and I went directly to work, where I changed clothes in the employee locker room, my mind reeling from the past hour or so.

Was this really happening? Was the girl who I’d taught to give handjobs turning into a submissive slut before my very eyes?

The signs had, of course, been there from the beginning. Her eagerness to learn. Our gap in age. Her tendency to tease.

All shift I could think of nothing else but the next day. I barely slept that night after I got off work. The next day was unbearably long. I ran some errands, waiting for 3:00 to roll around, when the coast would be clear to visit Emily.

Finally, the hour arrived. She was waiting for me at the door as usual. This time, however, she was wearing a short plaid skirt and had her curly dark locks pulled back in pigtails. A white button-down blouse and blue knee-highs completed the look.

“Do you like my outfit, Daddy?” she whispered, kissing me on the cheek, “my real Daddy thought the skirt was too short, so he made me change before I went to school. I put it back on as soon as I got home though.”

I kissed her.

“He’s right, you know. Boys at school will be distracted if they see you in something like that. And we both know that boys have just one thing on their minds.”

I leaned in for another kiss, pulling her close in towards me.

“Am I naughty for wearing this, Daddy?”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Yes you are, honey,” I said, my voice hoarse with desire.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to spank you.”

Her mouth dropped in feigned astonishment.

“What? Spank me? I’m much too old for that.”

“I’m afraid it’s the only way,” I said, taking her by the hand and leading her to a wooden chair, “you’re going to go across my lap.”

She was trembling a bit, which surprised me at first, but then I remembered that she might feel significant anticipation about the prospect of being spanked, even if it also excited her.

“It’s ok,” I said, “I’m not going to hurt you. You might even enjoy it.”

She blushed.

“I don’t think so.”

I pulled her gently over my lap, carefully adjusting her position so that her teenage ass presented a very attractive target. The plaid skirt was so perfect that for the situation that I almost wanted to forego the spanking completely and fuck her instead.

But I ‘d been waiting so long to spank my cute partner from Russian class. Now it was finally happening.

I reached down and flipped her skirt up, exposing a cute pair of bikini-cut, floral print panties.

“Do you want boys at school to see these?” I teased.

“Well, not any of the boys,” she said, playing her role, “but maybe a couple of the cute teachers.”

“Teasing your teachers? That’s very naughty young lady.”

I slapped her panty-clad bottom four times, each blow slightly harder than the last.

She yelped in surprise.

“Daddy!”

“That’s not even a warm-up,” I said, “we’ve got to take your panties down to do this correctly.”

“Not my panties please, Daddy. I’ll be so exposed!”

“You should have thought of that before acting like a slut at school.”

I slowly pulled her briefs over her ass and down her legs. The pungent smell of her arousal filled the air.

“I can tell you’re turned on,” I said, “and a good girl wouldn’t be this excited about being spanked.”

“But I’m not getting wet on purpose, Daddy!” she protested, playing along.

I smacked her three times, alternating asscheeks each time, letting my hand linger on her pert young buttocks after each blow.

“Ow, Daddy! That hurts.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I smacked her three more times, as before, this time trying to push her limits a bit.

She gasped, but kept her composure.

“Oh – oh – ah – ooh,” she moaned, in time with the smacks.

I continued the punishment, smiling as I turned her entire pale ass a nice shade of pink.

“Da- dee,” she squealed, “it hurts!”

“It’s supposed to, honey.”

I could see her face in the mirror. The way she bit her lip and squinted with each blow. I was smacking her slightly harder now, pushing her limits just a bit. I saw tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and I stopped suddenly.

“You’re soaking wet,” I said, sliding a finger into her pussy.

“I can’t help it Daddy,” she said, short of breath.

I began to spank her much harder now that she was warmed up, concentrating my blows in one area, then another, making sure to cover her entire ass. I used my other hand to gently yet rhythmically massage her g-spot and clit at the same time.

“You fucking love being treated like this, don’t you, Emily? This is what you’ve been dreaming about since you saw me for the first time.”

“Mmm hmm…”

Two tears slid down her face as she approached orgasm.

“Oh god,” she moaned, “don’t stop spanking me!”

I stopped, grabbing her hair instead.

“What’s my name?”

“Daddeeee!”

“Good girl,” I said.

She looked up at me with tear-stained eyes.

“Please let me cum, Daddy. I *promise* to be a good girl from now on.”

“Ok, honey,” I said, pushing my thumb into her pussy and massaging her clit, “go ahead and cum for daddy. Ready?”

“Please!!”

“3…2…1…,” I counted, pulling back and giving her ass a smack between the 2 and 1 before finally having mercy on her.

“Cum for daddy.”

She trembled, moaned and bit her lip as she writhed in pleasure on my lap.

“God…Yes…Daddy!!”

Her voiced took on a high-pitched timbre that made my cock swell.

Her orgasm went on for several seconds, her pussy and legs clamping down on my hand.

Finally, it was over.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, looking up at me with her big brown eyes filled with tears and her pale face red, “love it when you use me.”

“That was amazing,” I said, pulling her into my lap and kissing her.

We cuddled like that for a few minutes, me holding her close to my body, feeling her breathing slowly return to normal.

“That was such a rush,” she whispered, “calling you ‘Daddy’ and being told when to cum. And you being so rough with me.”

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No,” she whispered, “honestly, you could have pushed me even farther. There are so many other things I want to try.”

My cock, which had become a bit flaccid, suddenly sprang to attention once more.

“Mm,” she said, kissing me again, “I can see you like the idea of keeping your dirty little girl in her place.”

“Yeah, I absolutely do. I’m just kind of worried…”

“About what? About hurting me?”

“Yeah.”

“Physically or emotionally?”

“Both, to be honest.”

She smiled.

“Look,” she said, “I’m not quite as innocent as I seem. I mean…” she giggled, “I really *am* as innocent as I seem in many ways, but I’ve also been reading and fantasizing about BDSM for a long time. I kind of know how things work. Or can work. Or are supposed to work.”

“What, really?” I don’t know why I was surprised. It made perfect sense.

“So the thing is, we can make a safeword. How about ‘Russia’?”

“Ha ha, perfect.”

“And about the emotional part,” she continued, her eyes looking serious, “I really like you. I really do. But I also really do want some of those same things that my parents want for me. And I’m going to do them. So that means after this summer, I’m going to be gone. And I don’t know what’s going to happen after my first year in college.”

I have to admit that my heart fell a bit upon hearing this. I’d grown extremely fond of Emily. I might have even said that I loved her.

“Ok,” I said, trying not to appear vulnerable, “I guess, if we can both deal with the fact that this is…temporary, then we’ll be fine.”

“Life is temporary,” she said, smiling at me, “now hurry up and fuck my face before my parents get home, Daddy!”

My melancholy mood quickly passed.

“But of course,” I said, kissing her passionately before helping her to her knees, “open up for Daddy.”

She smiled up at me and opened wide.

“Your mouth is made for dick,” I said, pushing mine between her lips, “just tap my leg if you can’t say the safeword.”

She moaned in acknowledgment.

I grabbed her pigtails, one in each hand, and began to fuck her mouth as if it were her pussy. Slowly and shallowly at first, and then gradually more quickly. She reached up to grab my cock, but I swatted her hand away.

“Hands behind your back, slut.”

She complied.

Because of our conversation, and the unexpected emotional content, combined with the fact that we’d only recently transitioned to a full-blown dom/sub dynamic, I actually didn’t use her as hard as she actually wanted that first time.

I fucked her mouth, but was still unsure about whether or not she really wanted me to fuck her throat, or if she was just eager to try everything at once. Sure, she’d deepthroated me a few times, but that was something entirely different from having someone else in control.

I loved watching my slick cockhead slide across her luscious lips. Even if only the first two inches or so were going inside her, it was still an amazing feeling, using her like this. Especially after the spanking I’d just given her.

“Lick my balls, to,” I commanded, pulling out and moving up so that my sack was aligned with her mouth.

She began to kiss and lick my balls hungrily. The feeling was almost too intense.

“Oh God,” I moaned, stroking my cock, “I can’t stand it. I’m going to cum on your face, Emily. Be a good girl and take Daddy’s cum.”

She smiled up at me and said, “please shoot your cum on my face, Daddy!”

I lost control immediately, shooting three thick ropes of cum across her forehead and more on her nose, lips and chin. She giggled.

“Wow, Daddy. I guess spanking your little girl gets you really horny. Do you feel better now?”