“Hey, Trent.”

I got a fright as Sam came and stood next to me, standing closer than I would’ve liked. Wordlessly, his gaze followed mine to where my son was in the sandbox with his favorite teacher. She was fast becoming my favorite too, but for entirely different reasons.
Neither of us said anything, we just stood there looking, admiring the beauty of the younger woman. Her ass looked particularly magnificent that day, encased in the tightest pair of black leggings I had ever seen. They cupped and lifted her generous cheeks, clinging to her hips and thighs and showing off her curves. ‘Fuck me,’ I thought admiringly. Had there ever been a finer ass?

“You see what she wore to the sports day last week?” Sam asked.

"Yeah.”

Sam let out a sort of breathy chuckle, shaking his head in amazement. I had no doubt that both of us were now remembering the sight of her long legs in those shorts, and the pink sports t-shirt that was slightly too small for her, showing off her stomach and hips as she moved around and ran with the kids. “Should’ve been a crime, what she was wearing,” Sam continued. “It should be a crime for a teacher to be that sexy, actually,” he said, thinking out loud, no filter on his thoughts. I found I didn’t disagree with the man, though.
From where he was in the sandbox, my son noticed me, almost losing his balance on the soft sand underfoot, before making a mad dash across the playground, launching himself at me. I put my arms out for him, managing to catch him before I took a forehead to the groin. Elegantly, his teacher stood up, following him over to where Sam and I, and now my son, were.

“Hey buddy,” I greeted TJ, sand raining down on my shirt and suit pants as I picked the boy up.

“Hi daddy,” he babbled, his little gappy smile one of pure joy.

Standing in front of me, his teacher smiled at us, and, never breaking eye contact, she said, “Hi daddy,” repeating the same phrase my son had said only moments earlier. Her eyes held a look of flirty laughter, teasing me. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry all of a sudden and a familiar pulse in my trousers.

“Christ,” I heard Sam mutter under his breath. The look of teasing flirtation on her face faded, now replaced with a smile of polite professionalism as she walked back inside to help another child. “Dude,” Sam said to me when she was out of earshot. “If you don’t, then I will.”

—----------

I don’t know when it was that I noticed how utterly fuckable my young son’s teacher was. It took me a while, I know that for sure. I wasn’t usually nervous around women. I was used to being in control of myself, and my senses, but with her? Well, I was a mess. The, ‘hi daddy’ was the most brazen she had been with her flirting, though, and she had gotten her desired effect. Outside of my fantasies too, I found myself thinking of her constantly.
Hearing her say those words had done things to me, arousing me immediately and jolting my cock awake. I had been desperate to flop it out and relieve myself, replaying the words over and over again in my head as I went about the house. And that grin? Oh, she was a teasing little bitch. She knew exactly what she was doing, the little cock tease.

I may have perved on her plenty of times, but I had never masturbated to her. There had to be some boundaries, I felt, and if I did that, it would blur the lines. Sure, I had thoughts of her on her knees, swallowing my cock and gagging, or of me pressing her up against the wall, making her beg for her orgasm, but I had never acted on those desires. They had remained daydreams. It was becoming more and more difficult to not give in to temptation and masturbate to her image, though. Porn just wasn’t doing it anymore.
I’d never met anyone named Pia before. I had a thought one day that perhaps her parents had wanted to call her Mia, but the wrong key had been hit on the keyboard, and she was Pia instead. I had even gone so far as to search the name, and the results returned to me were that it meant pious. Well fuck, that could certainly be true, because I envisioned her down on her knees plenty, or calling on the almighty as she took my shaft.

I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the evening. Inside my boxer briefs, my balls ached, heavy and full of cum. In my ears, her words still swirled. If I wasn’t so desperate to stuff her, I could’ve easily disliked her for what she was doing to me. I thought back to the months of penile torture I had endured because of her, my brain remembering the smell of her perfume as she’d swish past me, her body brushing up against mine, or of the lingering, appreciative glances she’d give me, biting her lip sometimes as I spoke. She was daring, I had to give her that. She was a bold little bitch.

—-----------

In a previous life, I had been a Dom. But since the death of the boy’s mother, I had managed to suppress that part of me.

His mother and I hadn’t been together, in fact, we’d split up officially when she was still pregnant with him, but we remained on good terms. TJ was born at a time when I was standing on the forked path of life. Things were unstable for me at the time. The business was losing money and on a slight downward spiral, I was having a mid-life crisis and dealing with feelings of disillusionment and unfulfillment from life. The boy was unplanned, his mother and I only being together for a few months before he was conceived. I liked Zoey, we got along well. Sure, we should have been more careful when it came to sex, but at forty, we really didn’t think it would happen.

I mourned her loss deeply. Not because I had loved her. I never had, our relationship had ended before it could get that deep. I mourned her because I hadn’t loved her, and I felt like I was betraying the boy and letting him down. I’d been without women or relationships since then, too scared to seek out sex, lest I betray the boy and his mother again, but everyone has their breaking point, and I was sure to snap soon. Pia was not helping.

Zoey and I had only dabbled in B and D. It had been years since I’d fully let that side out of me, rejecting it entirely after becoming a full-time single parent. I had been good at disregarding those desires within me, but they were starting to come back up again, and they were growing harder and harder to ignore.

The first time I’d felt the tingling of my Dom senses, was when Pia started subtly flirting with me. Now, how did I know she was submissive? Well, I didn’t. But I had a feeling within me that perhaps she was. Weak logic, yes, but I just had a sense about her.

--------------

Later that night, closer to one am, and after I had necked a few beers, I logged into the chat site I frequented. It had started out as a way for me to blow off steam and have filthy chats, but now I found myself there daily, my eyes soaking up the erotic pictures that people posted, taking in the scenes in front of me of people mid-fuck, a still in time of a cock buried deep in an asshole, or a tongue on a pussy. I was a casual observer of the sexual images the site hosted, hanging out on the fringes of that society. I kept mostly to my own page or checking out the profiles and online personas that others had created, admiring the GIFS and videos.
Nothing taking my fancy, I was about to log out for the night and slog off to bed, my balls still heavy and my cock still unsatisfied. M’s profile appeared a little green star in the corner, indicating she was online. M and I had made fast friends, sharing a lot in common. Like me, her tastes ran to the edgier side of sex. From the first message, we got along famously.

Seeing M online, I quickly tapped out a message to her

‘My God she’s gagging for it.’

I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt better already, what felt like a dirty little secret being lifted off my chest.

Three little dots appeared under M’s profile picture, and then swiftly disappeared, before returning again a few seconds later. ‘What happened?’ she typed.

‘She called me daddy.’

…

The three dots jumped around as I awaited her reply.

…

'Daddy?’ She questioned.

'Yes,’ I replied, my fingers hitting the keys.

‘How did that make you feel?’ This was the basis of my online relationship with M, the mystery woman. My anonymous friend was the only one who knew how much I coveted my son’s teacher. She had egged on the fantasy, painting a brazen picture in my head of the young woman.

Seemingly impatient, M started typing herself. 

‘Hmmmmm?’

‘It turned me on.'

‘And?’

I had to smile at the dissatisfaction M took from my initial answer. She craved the details when it came to Pia and my fantasies. Some nights, she was like a dog with a bone, demanding I tell her more and more. Usually, from her end, it would bring her to orgasm as I described what I’d like to do to the teasing teacher.

‘Made me think of shoving my cock into her mouth.’

'Roughly?’

‘Oh yes,’ I hit enter swiftly, my reply suddenly flashing on the screen. I wasn’t done though. I needed to tell M more. ‘I want to scoop up her long hair and fuck her face.’

‘Now, now, T,’ said M. This was part of her game too, leading me into the fantasy and then abruptly stopping me. It was infuriating sometimes, but I loved it.

‘How do you know for certain she called you daddy?’

M’s question confused me. With my own two ears, I had heard Pia call me that. I felt stupid, as I typed out, ‘I heard her.’

‘Well, duh.’

…

More dots flew to the screen as M typed, her unspoken words taunting me, the dots to show she was typing, mocking me.

‘But how do you know she meant it? She works with young children, she could call everybody mommy or daddy.’

With a sinking feeling, I knew M was right. She had bought a clarity to the situation that my cock had prevented me from seeing. I sat back in my chair and thought about this, although it didn’t really need any further thought. She worked in a school, everyone was probably referred to as mommy and daddy, for simplicity’s sake. It had nothing to do with my desire to bend her over the desk and plunge my cock into her depths.

I didn’t know that Pia had meant ‘daddy’ in a sexual way, but I also didn’t not know that. With more confidence than I felt, my fingers smashed out my reply. ‘I know what I heard.’ No one, not even the anonymous M could argue with that.

Throwing my head back almost violently and yawning, the three beers making me feel sleepy, I started typing out to M that I needed to go to bed. Perhaps sensing from the other side of the screen that she had lost me for the night, her message flashed before I could hit send on my goodbye.

‘I’m free next weekend. Grab a drink in town?’

This was the first time M had asked me out. She and I had spoken plenty of times about fucking and a potential meet-up, but we usually dealt in hypotheticals. This was the first explicit invitation.

Another message popped up on my screen, again, sensing my reluctance from her side of the computer, and the fact that I was mulling over the question. ‘You don’t have to give your answer just yet.’

With a promise to think on her offer, and then a kiss goodnight, I shut down the computer, cleared the empties away, and wandered off to bed, my cock still needy for release, yet not feeling as desperate as I had earlier in the evening.

—-----------

Busy at work, and losing track of the time, I was running late to pick up the boy. Apologizing profusely, I walked into TJ’s classroom, which was now empty. The class held an eerie, almost sinister feeling now they were devoid of children and laughter. My son was sitting and drawing, his little face forlorn, though he perked up when he saw that I had finally arrived.
I slicked my hair back off my forehead, the stink of rain-wet wool from my coat filling my nostrils, feeling like a wet dog.

“Hey buddy,” I said. “You ready to go home?”

He nodded his assent and stood awkwardly, packing away the coloring pencils.

“Hi Mr J,” I heard from behind me. I turned and was faced with a pair of tits in a shirt that was slightly too tight across the chest, the round globes causing a bit of strain in a few of the top buttons, my eye finding a hint of cleavage. “Lovely weather we’re having,” she observed sarcastically, noting my rain-swept, slightly disheveled appearance.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, letting out an awkward chuckle. An image came to me of her rain-soaked, the tight shirt clinging to her body and see-through, her tits on full display through the drenched cotton. In my mind, my hands were peeling the garment off her body, her tits popping out, the nipples just begging to be played with and bitten.

“We need the rain though,” she said, breaking me from my dirty daydream. Back in the moment, I realized where I was, and started grabbing the boy’s belongings so we could head off. “And besides…” Her voice had taken on a different quality now. There was an inflection in her speech, her words dripping with innuendo when she said, “I enjoy it when it’s wet.”

‘Fuck,’ I thought. I said a quick goodbye and herded my son out of the classroom, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the school as possible.
Dashing through the needle-like pelts of rain, I fumbled with TJ in his car seat. I had to get out of there, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was having images of Pia in my mind, all of them centered on her being very unprofessional.

Back in the safe confines of the driver’s seat, I breathed in and out deeply, glad that I would be getting laid in the coming days, deciding I would meet M. I’d be sure to reach breaking point, otherwise.

—-----------

M responded to my acceptance of her invitation with a series of winky and kissy faces, and with the promise that she’d do dirty things to me. The nudes that M sent me always had her face cropped out, but it was of little matter to me, really. In a way, it made it easier for me to imagine Pia’s head on her body. Perhaps it was the asshole thing for me to do, agree to bang someone while picturing someone else, but M had engaged in this fantasy with me, and, in as many words, had already kind of suggested it herself in a roleplay of ours from way back.

With the promise of sex from the lovely M, I felt less on edge, knowing that the time of sexual darkness was soon to end, and the cock Renaissance would begin. I felt less anxious dropping my son off in the mornings as well. Pia’s suggestive teasing had me feeling a range of emotions; it was exciting, I wanted to pursue her, but then I was also very nervous, for fear of popping boners at inappropriate times or places. She was forbidden fruit in a way, so tantalizingly close, so close, in fact, that I could smell her, and feel her, but then she was just out of my grasp.

—-------

I ordered a drink at the bar, my usual choice, and slid into a booth along the back wall. Right on time, it was exactly eight. I would’ve liked to have been earlier, but circumstances out of my control with my parents and their babysitting of my son had dictated that I was pressed for time.

I scanned the near-empty establishment and noted the renovations that were currently taking place; some of the walls were freshly painted a deep bluish-purple, the others still dated and faded, no doubt from years of abuse. M wasn’t here yet. Perhaps she herself was running late? Maybe she had flaked?

I occupied my time with thoughts of the nudes she had sent me, each more sexy than the last. There was one particular picture she had sent; a selfie in front of a full-length mirror wearing nothing but a pair of pale pink lacy panties. Well, they were more peach-colored I guess, but the effect had been instantaneous. It was almost innocent in its way, yet my eyes took in the image, drinking everything in so it was seared in my mind. The curve of M’s full breasts, a size or two too big for her frame, the long curve of her waist and hips; an almost fluid hourglass silhouette. Through the lacy material, I saw the shadow of dark pubic hair and the slight outline of her pussy lips. The more I had studied the image, the harder I had become.

My eyes flicked around the bar, only a handful of other people were there, behind the counter, the staff looked bored. The waitress placed my scotch on the table, the ice cubes clinking against the glass in an inviting way.

She arrived exactly two minutes late, strolling confidently into the bar, ordering her own drink, spying me, and sitting down opposite. She was wearing a tight black dress, long sleeves, a deep V at the neck showing off her ample cleavage, the cut of the dress stopping just above the knee, her long legs on display.

“Hi Mr J,” she smiled.

I felt myself grow hot and uncomfortable, heat rushing to my cheeks. Dumbly, I said, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“I know,” she said. That same teasing grin spread across her face, and her dark eyes were alight with mischief.

“Pia?” I asked. “You…? You’re M…?”She let out a cheeky giggle. “Oh my God,” I said, feeling embarrassed and hurt. Mixed in with my humiliation was arousal, but I wouldn’t allow myself to fully feel it. I was deeply mortified. “So…All this time, I was talking about you…And it was you? I was talking about you…to you…?”

All other sounds of the bar were drowned out by the thumping I heard in my head, my heartbeat felt like it was right there in my ears. “How did…How did you even know to find me there?” I asked. Interrupting us, the waitress came over and clumsily placed Pia’s drink in front of her, some of it spilling onto the table, but nobody seemed to notice, or care.

“Oh please,” Pia said. “I’ve been a member of that site for two years, I didn’t sign up to just stalk you. I found your profile one night and sent you a message. Well, the more we chatted, the more I wondered if it was you. I put two and two together….Looks like I was right.”

“So, M was all a lie?”

“M was not a lie. M is my middle initial. M is me. I am M. You know as well as I do that one has to protect themselves online, especially on a site such as that. I’m a teacher, I need to be cautious. M was a way for me to live out my fantasies but also keep my professional integrity. Surely you understand that, Mr_Jablonski…” Again, she giggled mischievously.

I knew as soon as I had made the account I would come to regret using my real last name. My logic behind the move had been efficiency. If I used a similar screen name each time for my myriad of different accounts, it saved me from remembering all my different names and numbers. I had been at least eighty percent confident that no one from my real life would find me, let alone the site, which was a niche. But now look what had happened.

My humiliation was starting to recede somewhat, and in its place was anger. Hot, flame-tongued anger. Through clenched teeth, I said, “Go home, Pia.” I couldn’t even bear to look at the girl, I felt so wounded. M was an illusion. Everything I had told her about Pia, and it had turned out to be her instead. She knew my fantasies and my desires, she knew what I posted to that site, and she knew how horny I was for her. I was hurt, aching, and humiliated.

As if it was of no real importance to her, she gave the slightest of shrugs, her left shoulder rising and then falling, the physical embodiment of the expression ‘meh’. I watched her as she raised her glass and took a drink, my eyes on her throat as she swallowed the liquid, downing it all in one go. 

My gaze went back to her mouth, watching her tongue snake out and lick a bead of alcohol from the corner of her lips. The image of her doing the same action after blowing me came to mind, and I imagined watching her throat as she swallowed my semen. Perhaps my hands were around her neck, or perhaps she was leaning back and staring at me with her pretty eyes as her tongue quickly cleaned the last of my cum from her mouth. I felt a distinct shift in my jeans.

Pia stood, looking me up and down, and then turning and leaving. I flexed my fingers, my palm feeling itchy and restless, aching to spank her. “Wait,” I said, standing, throwing some money down on the table.

Slowly, she turned around, taking her sweet time, her eyes traveling up the length of my body before resting on my face. Walking towards her, my arm encircled her waist and I pulled her with me as I walked briskly outside. It was a humid night, hot, listless, and sticky. Pushing her back against the brickwork of the building, my lips sought hers, and I crushed her mouth to mine, seeking her tongue. She moaned as she opened her mouth against mine, her tongue pushing back, her hands on my ass, squeezing. I knew what she was doing. I knew she was fighting for control, trying to make it harder for me. And I loved her for it.

I could feel the hard points of her nipples against my chest as we stood there and kissed, bodies pressed against each other. Her hands found their way to the front of my jeans, my cock starting to harden as she teased her fingertips up and down the denim-covered shaft. She grabbed it and gave it a good squeeze through my Levi’s. A pulse went straight to my cock, and I felt it start to grow. Pulling my lips away from hers, I studied her face as I dipped my hand inside her bra, finding her stiff nipple and squeezing. Pia let out a soft moan of satisfaction, her brow creasing. I tried this experiment again, except this time, I pulled my hand out of her bra and touched her pussy through her dress. Her mouth opened, but no words came out, only a soft gasp.

From under long lashes, and with her dark eyes, she looked up at me and smiled, her pretty mouth curving into a cheeky grin. I was breathing heavily, my arousal clear, my cock aching for her teasing touch. I wanted to see her look at me like that while she took my rigid length in her mouth. I pulled Pia away from the wall she had been pressed against and waved down the cabs that were conveniently lined up near the bars down the street, the taxi drivers predicting a good night for making money.

I opened the door for her and let her in first, sliding myself in after her, not giving her any room, squashing her up against the corner of the back seat. Obnoxiously loud, the driver was listening to Peace Frog, but I didn’t let it ruin the moment. In an odd way, it added to it with the groovy, bopping rhythm, and Jim Morrison singing about sunlight on a woman’s head.

I ran light fingertips up and down Pia’s exposed knees and thighs, slowly inching higher as I went. She let out a shiver and instinctively parted her legs for me. My fingers crawled higher until they found her snatch, dripping wet and exposed. My lips almost brushing against the side of her head, I whispered,

“No panties?” My fingers lazily played in some of the pubic hair close to her slit. 

Pia let out a soft moan in response, squirming against the leather of the car seat.

Again whispering, I said, “You’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”

She bit her lip. “Yes,” she hissed.

My fingers dipped lower, running up and down her wet pussy lips, lightly running over the little bud of her clitoris as she became more and more aroused. She tried to suppress a moan, a look of alarm on her face as she glanced at the rearview mirror to see if the driver was watching us.

“Don’t worry about him,” I said in a low voice, my lips brushing against her cheek.

With my fingertips, I circled her nub a few times, enjoying Pia’s heavy breathing and soft moans. She spread her legs wider, the scent of her pussy hitting my nostrils. From the driver's seat, the cabbie moved his head to the side slightly, not taking his eyes off the road, but also, not paying full attention to his driving. No doubt he was also very aware of the familiar, intoxicating scent of female arousal.

With her legs spread further apart, allowing me better access to her dripping cunt, I dipped a finger inside her hot, tight hole and started slowly moving it back and forth. I watched her face as I did this, curious as to her reaction. Would she cum in front of a stranger? Or would she try and hold back? Would I even let her cum in the first place? I wasn’t in a particularly merciful mood to allow her that. I wanted her to know what it was like to be teased.

I pulled my finger from her pussy, slowly inching it up her slit, parting the lips and nudging her clitoris. In the low light of the back of the car, I offered her my finger, which she accepted, licking it greedily, looking me square in the eyes the entire time as she sucked, tasting herself. Again, the image of her eyes gazing at me the same way while she took my cock in her mouth, or swallowing my cum were all too present in my mind. A shiver ran down my spine. I let out a long exhale, feeling my nostrils flare, my own arousal still straining inside my pants.

My hand went back down, seeking her warm wetness once more. It was my turn to tease, though, touching everywhere except her pussy, running fingers up and down her sensitive inner thigh, playing with the soft patch of hair she had, which was now slick with her arousal. I’d brush up against her inner folds, or glide a finger over her clit, but I wouldn’t offer her satisfaction. I could tell she was frustrated and wanting me to do more; she was shifting her position, trying to get herself off against my hand or knuckles, whenever they got close enough to her pearl, but I wouldn’t allow it. Not just yet, anyway.

I circled her hole teasingly and then pressed two fingers inside her. Pia let out an audible moan, and I was sure the driver had heard her. If he had, though, he ignored it, still concentrating on his job. We were fast approaching my street, and I was torn; let her cum in the back of the cab, or make her wait, prolonging her orgasm? Both were tempting.

My fingers moved at a lightning pace, her wetness seeping down my hand, her pussy walls soft and tight. Her scent was getting stronger now, as was the sound of her quickly lubricating snatch. She was holding onto me, one hand on my waist, the other on my arm. There was a pleading look in her eyes, but I couldn’t tell if she was pleading with me to stop, for fear of the taxi driver knowing what we were up to, or if she was seeking release.

She was getting closer now, her nails digging into me, her hips rocking back and forth. Just as she was on the verge, the taxi rolled to a stop outside my house. I pulled my fingers from her sodden cunt, grabbed some cash for the fare from my back pocket, and paid the driver, Pia's wetness on the bills I handed over.

She was shaky on her feet as she got out of the car and stood next to me. There was something different about her. She was still the same sexy little girl, but she seemed, unsure now. Guarded? As if what had transpired in the back of the taxi had flicked a switch in her.

I kissed her on the forehead. “You okay?” I asked, my hand going to her cheek, stroking the soft skin with the pad of my thumb. She nodded.

Vulnerable. That was what she was. There was a slight vulnerability about her now. Was this the real Pia? Had the teasing and the ‘hi daddy,’ been all an act? Had she changed her mind now she was here? I unlocked the door and brought her inside off the street, away from any prying eyes of the neighbors.

I kissed her deeply, my tongue swirling in her mouth, holding her body to mine. Her lips were so soft against mine, and I loved the way she pressed against my tongue. I pulled away from the kiss and held her by the shoulders, searching her eyes once more. I saw my own reflection in her gaze, but also, lust. Her desire mirrored my own.

Again, I asked her, “You okay?”

Confidently this time she answered, “Yes.”

Giving a flirtatious little half-grin, she started to drop to her knees, looking at me as she did so. I stayed her, my hands still on her shoulders. “Oh, little girl,” I said. “You don’t get that just yet. I’m not finished with you.”

Leading her through into the living room, I sat down on the sofa and pulled her down onto my lap, my hands in her hair, long, soft curls falling through my fingers and down her back. I kissed her forcefully, our tongues pushing against each other, almost giving battle. Pia was grinding her ass against my erection, which was still painfully trapped inside my jeans. I groaned both from the sensation of her ass on my cock, and from deciding that enough was enough. I took her over my knee, her legs stretched out across my leather sofa, her ass bare, her dress pushed up. “Such a nice ass,” I admired, gripping the flesh that was firm yet soft, my nails digging into her bare cheeks.

My palm itched with the need to spank her, my fingers feeling tingly with the need to feel the sting of flesh against them. I spanked her, lightly at first, testing to see her reactions and how much she could take. Not a sound was made, she was silent. I spanked her again, this time harder, but again, she didn’t make any noise. On the third slap, she was still silent, but she flinched. I rubbed the red flesh gently, soothing the skin. I dove my fingers lower and played with her still dripping pussy. She moaned and squirmed on my lap, grinding against my rock-hard erection.

I was desperate to fill her with my cock, but I had to wait. She needed a good spanking first. My hand thundered down on her ass, alternating between soft and hard slaps, and going between the two fleshy cheeks. By the time I was finished, her ass was hot and red, blood rushing to the area. I gently massaged her, my hands lightly playing across her ass before dipping back into her juicy pussy. “If you want to cum,” I told her, my erection poking against her lower stomach, “Then beg me.”

“Beg?” she asked mischievously.

A hand went to her head, and I grabbed a handful of her long, dark hair. “Yes, beg.” My fingers were still inside her, but instead of fucking her with them, I had stopped moving, waiting for her response, to see what she would do. She moved her hips against the tent in my trousers, trying to stimulate her pussy. I chuckled. “That earns you another spanking,” I informed her.

I let go of her hair, and, one hand still on her pussy, I spanked her ass again, each cheek in quick succession. I felt her pussy walls clench around the fingers buried inside her. I remembered what she’d told me online, all the times she had flirted with the idea of being denied an orgasm or being made to plead for release.

She finally relented, “Please.”

“Please, what?” I asked, still not moving the fingers I had in her hot cunt. I wanted to hear her say the words again, I wanted to hear her beg for it.

“I want to cum. Please, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” I said, frigging her off, my fingers moving swiftly back and forth inside her.

It didn’t take her long, she came hard, her sweet voice breathy as she moaned and squirmed on my lap, rubbing against my cock. Her pussy gushed on my hand, some of her wetness on the front of my jeans. Her thighs were trembling and flexing, her moans the only noise to be heard. My hand was saturated with the juices from her cunt, the fingers I had inside her, soaked. With almost glassy eyes, she looked at me, her face flushed, her mouth agape. She was a quivering, beautiful, mess.

By the time she had come down from her orgasm, my cock was painfully hard and in need of some attention. I ordered Pia to stand up and take her clothes off. “My cock needs sucking,” I told her, lifting my hips up so she could unzip my jeans and pull them down. Dutifully, she got down on her knees and extracted my cock from inside my boxer briefs, sucking on the tip slowly, before swallowing the head. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her warm mouth on my hard shaft, her lips running up and down the smooth length, bobbing her head back and forth. I let out a long, low moan of appreciation at her efforts as she took more and more of my cock down her throat.

“Fuck,” I said, my hands on her head, playing with her hair.
I ran my hands through her hair, scooping some of it up in my fist, using that to move her face faster on my cock. She gagged but managed to hold it. “Look at me,” I instructed. Her eyes were starting to water, and the makeup was starting to pool under her eyes and run. She looked at me with that pretty gaze while I fucked her face, her lips stretched around the cock she was sucking. “Oh fuck,” I groaned. “Sexy little bitch.”

A look of pride was rising in her eyes at my praise, and she managed to deepthroat my cock, gagging again, saliva running and dripping from the corners of her very full mouth. My balls were resting against her chin, and the sensation of something lightly touching them, the soft pressure, was enough to make me moan. It wasn’t enough, though. I had to take her. I had to take what had been denied me, and what she had teased me with. I was aching for her pussy, wanting to shove my dick deep inside her. Slowly, still using the fistful of hair I held, I pulled her face off my cock, and with an audible sound, it slapped against my stomach wetly. Standing, I shrugged my shirt off and bought Pia close to me, kissing her, her mouth full of saliva from the blowjob. “You want my cock?” I teased. She smiled and nodded. “Beg. You know what I want to hear.”

“Please, I want your cock, Daddy. Please.”

On her knees on the sofa, I teased my cock head up and down her slit, nudging her clit and wetting my cock, before plunging it into her depths. ‘God damn,’ I thought. She was tight. Impossibly tight, even, her pussy walls massaging my cock and gripping my shaft.

I was slow at first, holding back somewhat, my thrusting measured, restrained. I wanted to enjoy the moment of fucking Pia from behind, balls deep inside her tight cunt on my expensive sofa. She was moaning loudly, begging me to go harder and faster. “Fuck me,” she moaned, her pussy pulsing around my stiff prick. I held her hips and slammed into her, loud slapping sounds from our rough coupling bouncing off the walls of my living room. “Oh fuck, Trent,” she moaned.

I slowed right down, no longer plunging into her hot cunt. “Did I say you could call me by my first name?” I asked.

“N-no,” she said, faltering. For the first time since I’d met her, she was less than confident.

“You know what to call me,” I told her, my cock flopping out from inside her, the cool air hitting my manhood, now that it was deprived of Pia’s heat.

Her confidence seemingly returned, she now teased me. “Mr Jablonski.”

“No, no little girl.” I gripped the soft skin of her right ass cheek, my nails squeezing the firm flesh.

“Daddy,” she said.

“Yes,” I said, almost hissing my assent.

Eagerly, my cock found her cunt again, and I thrust myself to the hilt inside her in one go, the warmth once more enveloping my shaft. My fingernails dug into her hips while I fucked her hard, my balls hitting her pussy, sticky from her wetness. “Fuck Daddy," she gasped.
I moaned in response, my throat dry, my mouth unable to form words. I could feel my balls starting to tense, signaling my impending orgasm.

“Oh, Daddy.” Pia’s voice was shrill, one hand was steadying herself on the arm of the couch, the other on her left tit, pinching and rolling the nipple. "Fuck, Daddy."
I looked down at her ass, admiring my literal handiwork of the red prints I’d left on the pale flesh. “Oh God,” she moaned, arching her back, taking long, heaving breaths. She repeated this several times over. Apparently, she was pious after all. I felt her pussy walls pulse and contract on my cock, tightening around the hard shaft I had stuffed inside her.

“Where do you want my cum?” I asked frantically, feeling my balls tighten further and the tingle of an approaching orgasm wash over me.

“Cum on my ass, Daddy,” she said. “Please.”

I pulled out of her and stroked furiously, several long streams of white cum painting her ass cheeks, some of it dripping down her crack and over her asshole, some of it rolling off the skin in long beads, onto the couch below. I was still yanking my dick after I had spent my load, wanting to get every last little bit out onto her ass. With the slowly softening cockhead, I rubbed some of the cum into her red skin, one small, tiny bead of semen still collecting in the tip.

With a deep exhale in, and then out, I sat down on the couch and pulled Pia back onto my lap, the wet cum sticky on my thighs. I kissed her on the side of the head, the sweet smell of her shampoo intoxicating to me.

After a few moments of silence, she asked curiously, “That’s not the only time we’re going to be fucking, is it? I mean, there’s more, right?”

“Oh yes,” I said, holding her to me, stroking her arm. “There certainly is more.”

I kissed her head again. I wasn’t done with her. I wouldn’t be, for a long while yet.