Whoever coined the phrase Sweet Sixteen should have nabbed Sexpot Seventeen too. My senior high school year has so far been dominated by constant wetness. Honestly, horny doesn’t even come close.

I've fucked my way through the team captains. The hot boys. The bad boys. Even a few of the girls in the chess club who were open to some post-game action. A girl's gotta experiment, right?

I know, I know: that probably means I'm a nympho or something. But I can't seem to help it. This mix of hormonal chemistry inside me is constantly churning, taking over my thoughts; turning ordinary situations into a hotbed of wet, panting fuckery. I'd ask my Chemistry teacher Mr Davies about it, but I'd probably want to shove him onto the desk and mount him after.

Maybe it's normal. Maybe it isn't. I talked with my bestie Taylor about it and she laughed. Called me slutpants. So maybe it's just me.

Taylor's awesome. We get into all sorts of scrapes together but we have each other's back. Always. Like when I covered for her the day she went to Manchester for the Rihanna gig. Signed her planner as her mum and wrote she was having period pains, haha. Nobody questions that.

A couple of weeks ago, she was on lookout while I blew Jay in the school changing rooms after PE, his hand curled round the back of my head, urging me to take more and more of his prick with each thrust. I eventually took it all. He's slender but long and it nudged my throat, making me cough a little. He called me a good girl and my insides somersaulted. So I took more of him for longer, until he groaned as he pulsed hot spunk directly down my throat.

Given the revelations above, it might be a surprise to know that me and Taylor haven't had sex. I've thought about it 'cos, well, she's hot and we're both Sexpot Seventeen. But it's just never really come up.

I fucked her dad though, on the couch in their den at a sleepover. He was a game changer. Patient and experienced. Attentive. When his tongue probed my pussy and fluttered across my clit, I quaked and came with my legs wrapped around his head. Taylor thinks it's gross. Says her mum would turn in her grave if she knew. But thankfully, it hasn't changed anything between us.

The absolute best thing about riding her dad to oblivion was that it put all my naïve classmates in perspective. And it kick started my love for older men. Older men like that delivery guy I'm staring at through the lounge window as he lugs the shopping crates up the drive.

I focus on his toned arms, slightly tanned in the short-sleeve company polo top. Imagine them circling me. Clutching my body to his, our skin hot as he nuzzles my neck and cups my bum. Sliding his hands around to the front and tucking fingers inside my shorts. Worming beneath the pink scrap of material covering my hairless snatch. Fingering me as I quiver and buckle in his grasp, moaning hot breath into his ear.

He disappears from view and I skip to the kitchen at the back of the house for a closer look.

Our kitchen has cupboards on all walls except one that overlooks the garden. So when I swan in to stand by the counter alongside the back door, the delivery guy can't see my face: it's obscured by the wall cupboard. But I'm pretty sure he notices my teeny tiny low-cut crop top because he stops hopping from foot to foot behind the crates of shopping and steps forward to show Daddy the handheld device, asking about whether the substituted items are okay. All I can see are his tanned legs and torso. And those fingers. Those incredible fingers.

My dad confirms everything's okay. If I'm being pedantic, he's my step-dad. But he'd raised me through my teens so is probably as close to the real thing as I'm ever gonna get. Certainly a world better than my dick of a dad who shacked up with Suzanne Longwood. I often picture her fake tits melting in hell.

Daddy and I share a lot. No, not like that. Not yet, although we've talked about it. The things I respect most are his principles. There are times I've practically thrown myself at him, wearing next to nothing as we laugh and joke curled up in front of a movie together while mum snores upstairs, and yet he's held back. It seems odd to respect that when I tease him every chance I get. When I want him to eventually break. To kiss me and fuck me. To tell me I'm his special girl, stroke my hair and cradle me as he thrusts and stretches my horny pussy.

I shake my head to shatter the vision. Reach for some shopping that's already been dumped on the worktop. A bunch of yoghurts. They're all in separate pots so I scoop them up in my arms and make sure to squeeze my titties together, highlighting the cleavage. I don't have much up top, but I know how to max it. The flexing of the delivery guy's cock beneath the shorts shows me he's paying attention.

Spinning from the counter, I cross the room, strutting provocatively in my tiny cutoff denims to the fridge opposite the back door. My limited movement means I have to reach up on tiptoes to tug the handle towards me. I swear I hear him gulp, pausing the conversation when I tip the yoghurts in the salad tray and stretch up to shelf each one individually, the slender curve of my taut lower back on display.

When I turn back, I shoot him a glance. A loaded flash, flicking my gaze to his groin while catching my lower lip with my teeth. He's hella cute. Mid-thirties, I guess. Sandy mop of sun-kissed hair. Sweet dimples. He definitely gets the gist before the moment disappears behind the overhanging wall cupboard again.

Smiling, I reach for the avocados, pick them up and roll them in my palms and fingertips. If Daddy asks, I'll say I'm testing their firmness, but my English teacher would love the subtext if I was writing the scene.

Transferring both to my dainty palm, I reach for the cucumber, slide my hand along its entire length then pick it up by the end, swirling my thumb over the tip. I turn and step into view to also put those items in the fridge. The guy definitely has a bulge forming. Fuck, it's exciting playing with him while Daddy's oblivious. I make a mental note to quiz him after the man leaves; see if he noticed my flirting. He'd probably find it funny. He gets me.

I return for the next items. Ice lollies. Cross the room hugging the boxes close to my chest. My nipples firm against the cardboard, and that's before I swing open the freezer door and crouch to release the boxes in the drawer. I can’t resist scooping my boobs out and pinching the cold caps, tucking them away fully erect.

Fuck I'm horny.

Instead of doing the decent thing and just standing, I stay bent over a moment longer and straighten only my legs, giving the driver what must be an incredible view of the swell of my arse cheeks peeking from below the tattered hem of the shorts.

Once I'm fully upright I shut the freezer, spin and sashay across the kitchen. There's no disguising my prominent nipples behind the braless crop top, and the poor guy pretends he's not noticed. But I know he's shooting me glances whenever he thinks I'm not looking, and will have his eyes fixed on the firm peaks outlined in my top the moment I'm back at the counter.

God, I'm wet thinking about what he's packing under those shorts. He's straining against the fabric. All I can think about is sinking to my knees and freeing him. Kissing the pre-cum from his tip and engulfing his length as I gaze up at him. Demonstrating what a good girl I can be. Bet he's wider than Jay, but I'll sure as hell try to take him all. From my appearance, most guys would never guess how far down my throat I can take cock. I love it that way; the surprise is such a turn-on.

Dad unloads the last of the items onto the countertop and the driver bends to pick up the empty crates. I step into view as he stands. Swing my gaze up and down his body while he stammers his thanks and have a nice day spiel.

One further lingering look, and then he's gone. Perfect arse in those cargo shorts disappearing down the drive. God only knows how uncomfortable it'll be in the front tent on his way to the next delivery.

Daddy shuts the door and I don't move until he grabs some veg from the side and notices me rooted to the spot.

"What is it? You okay?"

"Yeah. Just…"

He studies me before his grin radiates. "Were you tormenting that poor guy?"

"I might have been."

He rolls his eyes. "You're terrible."

I chew my lip. “I know. But. Do you think he wanted to fuck me?”

He smiles again. Raises an eyebrow and surveys my body. “Pretty much everyone wants to fuck you, baby.”

Reaching to take the veg from his hands, our fingertips brush. My eyes slide to his. “Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?”

Surrendering what he's holding, he sighs and croaks, “Of course I do. We've been over this.”

"I know, I know. But I just need to…" I look away, then back at those liquid caramel irises that have always been there for me. "Need to hear you say it."

He swallows. Pauses, before a harsh whisper escapes. "I want to fuck you. So badly."

“But we can’t, can we?”

“No, baby.”

“Even when mum’s out? Like… now?”

“We just—" he sighs long and hard, "can’t.”

“But I’m so hor-neee.”

“I know. Sorry, baby.”

Fucking principles. I adore and despise them. What will it take to break them?

I open the fridge, stretch up to put some of the veg away. The need is incalculable, so turned on by teasing the delivery guy. I have to have release somehow.

Wiggling my behind, I call out, “But Daddeee, if we could… what would you do to me?"

Turning, I shut the fridge. "Would you squeeze my little titties until my nipples hardened in your palms?" I cup my boobs and lift them, cleavage forming between their inner edges in the plunge of the crop top. His eyes widen and jaw drops when I stroke the nipples then roll them between my fingertips, pinching until I gasp.

Heat rockets between my legs and I let go, slithering hands down over my toned midriff to rest on the waistband of my shorts.

"Would you lick my bald little pussy until I came in your mouth?”

"B… bald?"

I tip my head. Coquettish. "Oh, you didn't know? I keep it niiice and smooth down there. All shaved so it's super slick when I touch it, thinking about your tongue buried inside me." I exhale. Walk my fingers to the button and snap it open. "Would you do that to me? Would you lick me until I beg?"

His throat ripples as he swallows again. “You know I'd do all of that. And more.”

My sigh is loaded with need. I grasp the zip and peel it down, tooth by tooth, denim parting to reveal the dark pink cotton beneath and the ears of the cartoon pig stamped on their surface. The shorts fall and pool at my feet for me to step from.

Taking a pace backwards, my eyes on him the whole time, I nudge the countertop and hop up to sit on it. “This pussy, Daddy?”

I gradually spread my legs. His focus wavers from mine and drifts south until it rests squarely on the darker oval of juice that stains the fabric beneath the pig's snout. Butterflies skitter in my belly as I slide a fingertip over my thigh, brush the knickers and trace the outline of my lips through the material.

“Or… this pussy?”

Pinching the gusset, I gather it between fingertips and pull it aside, then start to stroke my lips for his unwavering stare. I dip a few fingers inside to tease my entrance, nectar drizzling around my digits. I scoop it on a fingertip and bring it to my mouth to lap off. "Mmmmm, so tasty, Daddy. You'd love it."

He groans, bulge filling his shorts. "God, baby. You're so pretty."

"Yessss." I return the fingertip to my entrance and draw an oval then dip two fingers inside me, setting up a steady fucking rhythm as I press my palm down on my clit and grind my hips up against it.

"Is this what you want, Daddy? My pretty, naked cunt on your face? Your dick filling my—" I stifle a gasp, "tight, teenage hole as I scream for more?"

He shuffles to relieve the swell, its outline shifting. Whispers: "Hell yeah."

"Good. 'Cos I want that too. Want you to fuck me. Right here. Shove me back, hand around my throat as you slam your big dick in my tiny pussy." I pump my fingers in and out of my greedy hole. Juicy squelches echo off the appliances and cupboards as my panting increases, palm crushing my clit, fingers a blur.

I stiffen on the countertop, holding my breath for several long seconds, Dad staring at me, eyes locked. I huff out air, my pussy winking around my buried fingers as the orgasm blasts through me. It's super intense.

Although I've teased him with the odd flash of skin or cleavage, this is the furthest we've ever gone. It came from absolutely nowhere, riding on the back of my thoughts about the delivery guy, and I love it. My body tingles as shivers ripple through it. I try speech but it's impossible so I let the waves roll over me instead, flushing my skin.

Only when he clears his throat do I exit stasis, plucking fingers from their hiding place, and rearranging the gusset to cover the sticky mess. I raise my hand towards him, and twist so the palm faces me. The juicy digits gleam and I hop off the counter to approach, each step prolonging the rush. I lift my fingertips and hold them under his nose. Wait. He pauses like he knows he should back away. Like it's another tipping point in our relationship. Then inhales. Deeply.

Rotating my fingers to the horizontal, I brush his upper lip, day-old stubble scuffing and trapping droplets of my scent. "There. So you can be reminded of me all day.”

He backs away a pace, cock raging beneath his shorts. Says nothing.

"Are you, uhh," I nod, "going to take care of that now?"

"I… I don't know. Your mother will be back pretty soon."

"Don't."

"What?!"

"Leave it alone. Let the need stew. Build. Take it out on mum tonight."

He stares. Breathes in then out, slowly and deliberately, my bouquet infiltrating his body. "You're incredible."

I giggle. "I know." Dropping a hand I trace it up my thigh and press the material of the panties into the mess behind them. "And Daddy?"

"Yes, baby."

"Leave your door open a little tonight so I can watch. And think of me, not her. Think of sliding your big cock into my tight little hole. Making me scream. Clamping your hand over my mouth to stifle my moans. Pounding me over and over until you spurt inside me. Would you do that for me?”

He nods on autopilot, jaw slack.

 "And would you let me fuck that delivery guy?"

“I don’t know.”

“What if I did it in front of you? Right here. Next time he turns up. Would you like to watch me getting fucked, Daddy? See my excitement building. My hand a blur on my tiny jewel as he grips my hips and pounds my sweet cunt?”

He considers. "We'll see."

A car pulls up into the drive and I step into the crumpled pile of my shorts and slither them home, refastening the zip and button to conceal my stained underwear.

I skip past him to the door and pause to whisper in his ear, "Think about it. A lot."

Then I leave. Rush to my bedroom, slam the door and tuck my fingers into my shorts again, the tail of my previous orgasm colliding with the crest of the next as I bite my lip and flutter papery touches across my clit. The build is long and slow and sweet, sensitivity on high alert until I increase the pressure and my body seizes, the release flooding my already wet knickers as debauched thoughts rage.

~oOo~

Evening approaches fast.

I'd spent the remainder of the lazy summer Saturday in the park with Taylor and Megan, larking about on the swings and monkey bars, and playing music.

Dinner was relaxed, even though Daddy kept glancing at me between forkfuls of spag bol, eyes twinkling. Surprised mum didn't notice. She was certainly in for some fun if he did what I asked.

Once the dishes were done, I made my excuses to give them space. Did some Chemistry revision with music low and door cracked open so I could hear when they went to bed.

It didn't take long.

Now I wait in cotton boy short pyjamas, kicking my legs off the edge of the bed in time to the barely audible beat of the dance music.

The taps in the en suite across the hall blast. Wash. Teeth. Gargle. The rustle of bed sheets. Low chitchat, impossible to hear. A giggle from mum.

I hop down to the carpet, shut off the music and pad to the door. Peek through the gap, diagonally to the door Daddy has left open. Mum giggles again then sighs.

The hallway is dark as I slip from my room, pulse racing. I steal across the landing, avoiding the creaky floorboard a few feet up and pause outside their room, listening. Mum's definitely getting aroused. She moans softly.

I risk a peek. There's very little light, just a sliver of moonlight from the window, altering width as...