“Will you pause it for a minute? I have to pee.”

Kristen gets up from the couch and I grab for the remote, hitting pause on the second porn flick we turned on tonight. We’d shared a bottle of wine. I knew she was horny, since earlier in the first film, unimpressed by one of the girl’s one-finger banging techniques, I shoved three into her to illustrate that cunts can take more.

Well, maybe not all cunts. But hers, obviously.

She was wet, and moaned a little, making a little mewl of protest when I slipped them out. My fingers came away with just a slurpy wetness and I wiped them on her leg. “That’s dirty, Daddy,” she cooed. She leaned in closer. “I like it.”

Now, I watch her ass in tiny blue shorts as she strides across the kitchen, and I rise and follow a few steps behind, waiting until she closes the door and I hear her lift the toilet lid to open the door.

“Daddy!” She squeals, laughing a little.

“Go ahead,” I say, standing close in front of her.

“You want me to … ” she sits, and I snake my hand between her legs, my fingers in a V on either side of her pussy lips.

“Do it.” I say.

“You want me to … pee? On your hand?” (She’s playing at acting reluctant. She has been asking for more water sports. And she is very dirty.)

“Yes.”

“I don’t know … if I can … ”

I don’t rub or stimulate her, just hold my hand there and wait. “You can do it. Come on, dirty girl.” Her eyes are wide and she’s giggling, body taut and poised, mouth open, a little agape at me, but turned on.

I hear it hit the water in the toilet before I feel it on my fingers, and I move my hand a little to touch the flow of piss. I feel it on my fingers and bring them closer to the lips of her pussy as she lets it go in a steady stream. I draw my fingers along her clit and she comes almost immediately, the pee stops as her spine ripples and she grabs at my bicep, then I hear more liquid hit the water, and I’m not sure if she’s squirting or peeing.

She laughs and bends her neck to touch her forehead against my chest. “You’re so dirty.”

I bring my hand up from between her legs. My fingers are wet. “Yeah. So are you, pretty girl.” I wipe my hand across her cheeks, use her face to clean off my hand.

She laughs. “Daddy! Stop!” She tells me later that piss on her face is different, it kind of stings. Like toner. I remind her that I frequently wipe lube over her skin. She likes that. Likes to leave it there so she is filthy all day.

“I’m done,” I say, and leave the bathroom, closing the door (a little more emphatically than necessary) on my way out.

She comes out a moment later and I’m on the couch like nothing happened. I press play and we return to the queer porn flick. A minute later, she points to the dried cum on her thigh and leans in to me.

“I like how you get me dirty.”

Kristen was doing that thing where she curls her back and writhes a little, looking up, eyes wide, at me from under her lashes, and I groaned inwardly and tried not to lose my composure right there.

“I like it too,” I say.

“Is it bad that watching porn is sometimes boring? Am I so desensitized?”

“I think it’s pretty great that our sex life is better than really good queer porn. I think we should …” I finger her thigh.

She bites her lip. “What are you going to do?”

I am so done with the flick. I swig the last of the wine. “Let’s go.” I don’t have to say anything else. She knows that is almost a command, a request, that means let’s go to the bedroom. I follow her and flick off the lights. She strips off her shorts and tee shirt and I pull my cock out of the jersey sheet bag I keep it in on my nightstand, strip off my tee shirt, jeans, and briefs, and put the harness and cock on.

“Get the blanket,” I say. She grabs the Throe, spreads it out onto the bed, and climbs up, lying on her side. I bring the bottle of lube, twist my legs up onto the bed and get on my knees, grab her thighs with my hands and pull her hips toward me so she’s at an angle. I pump the lube twice—once over the lips of her cunt, once on the head of my dick. I rub it slowly with my hand, showing off a little because I know she likes to watch me jerk off. Her legs are open on either side of my knees. Her cunt is mostly bare, her lips are pink and swollen.

“Fuck.”

I grip her inner thighs in my hands and poise my cock with my hips. Taking the cock in my fist, I use the head of my cock to rub the lube along her slit, rubbing it on her cunt, slick and smooth, and then smack her with it a few times, before I slide in. I reach up to her wrists and my hands fit so easily around them, she feels so small. She struggles against me, just a little, pushing back, but I have gravity and more than fifty pounds on her—we both know it’s for show. A request to hold her harder, a request to keep her down. We both shudder as I slide in deeper and put more of my weight down onto her, and she wraps her legs around me, her arms around my shoulders.

I vow to go slow, I keep repeating in my head, go slow go slow slow down go slow, but she feels so fucking good and she’s so wet and slick and pulsing around me so tight, and I’m so hard and deep, my hips start bucking and I don’t restrain them. She moans. I fuck her harder, reaching down with my right hand to lop my elbow around her calf and pull her knee up, her legs apart.

“Baby, baby, baby …”

I wish it was a given that I would fuck her like this until I shoot. I wish it was more consistent, to come inside her, to get off while she writhes. I still don’t know the secret formula. I’m so hard that I’m starting to feel blue balls, uncomfortably turned on with no release. She moans in my ear and squirms under me. I shift some weight onto my knees and spread my forearm out across her chest, pressing her down into the bed.

“Daddy, fuck me, please. Harder, please Daddy, please …”

She starts begging and I start losing it. I work my hips harder, pulling out and slamming back in, splaying my knees a little to get a better grip on the bed so I can keep my angle and friction. I put my hand over her mouth. She likes that. Her eyes plead and I hold her down by her jaw, cautiously but firm, and work my hips. I lift my hand up and she breathes in, and I close it back down on her mouth again, this time over her nose, too.

“Fuck, you feel good. I love how you take it, my good girl. That’s it, take it all the way in, give me that pussy, that’s my girl.”

I babble. She splays her hips open and gives me everything. I lift my hand from her mouth and she gasps, breathes in. I bring my fingers to her clit and she starts yelling, open mouthed.

“Can I come?”

She manages to get some words out.

At her ear, I say yes and don’t let up. She does, immediately, and I keep going.

“Come on, pretty girl, is that all you got? Do it again. Do it for your Daddy. Come on, show off for me.”

She gasps and shudders, grabbing at my shoulders and upper arms as she thrashes against me. I hold her down, bite her shoulder, and she pushes against me, coming again.

“Good girl.”

I kiss her, whisper dirty nothings in her ear. She catches her breath and I sit up, kneeling between her legs, then grab at her thighs and turn her over to her stomach. I pull on her hips. “Up,” I say. “Give me that ass.” I smack it a little, lightly, back and forth with the palms of my hand. She squeals a little; she likes it, but it stings. She wants to take more pain. We’ve been talking about this. I slide my cock back insider her and press my palm down into her back, smacking her shoulder blades hard enough to make some dramatic noise but not so hard as to leave any red marks. She moans into the pillow.

I grip her hips and fuck harder, my knees slipping on the Throe blanket.

“Squirt for me, baby. Make a big mess, get my cock all dirty.”

My hand reaches around for her clit. She moans and can’t quite form words. “I can come again?”

“Yes; do it. Make it dirty, little slut. I know how you are. Filthy. My slutty little girl.”

She yells into the pillow and comes again, but it’s quick and not enough. I want a gush, want to feel it drip down my thighs. I lean back and shove my fingers in, start working her g-spot and her clit between two fingers and my thumb, still pressing her back down into the bed.

“Don’t stop, do it again. You like it nasty, let’s have it.” She twists and writhes, moans and yells out. I can feel her swelling and pressing against my fingers as she squirts, gushing, and I feel it on my thighs. I pull her back onto my lap, both of us on our knees, stacked, and hold her as she leans back into me, catching her breath. We breathe in sync.

She moves off of me first and we both stretch out our legs, shake out the cramps in our knees. “Look,” I say, spreading out the blanket where some of her come is pooled.

“I came a lot,” she admits, almost sheepishly.

“That’s what I wanted.” I lean back into the pillows and bunch the blanket toward her side of the bed. My cock is smeared with blood and come and lube—the blood, at least, I can see.

“I can still feel the piss on my skin,” she admits, laying down into the crook of my arm, head on my chest. “On my pussy. It kind of stings.”

“You like it dirty, don’t you.” I absently rub my cock. Still hard. Still craving more.

“Yes.”

“You got my cock all filthy. Blood and piss and come and lube.”

“I know, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you go clean it off for me?”

She looks up at me, just a little, and nods, rising to her knees to lean over my cock. She grips it in her hand and I shift my legs, still holding the base of it. She sticks out her tongue and licks along the tip, then makes a face. She does it again, sucking down the head this time, but recoils and grimaces again.

“It’s dirty, Daddy.”

“I know. You can do it.”

She licks again and works her hand up and down the shaft, reluctant and still wrinkling her nose.

“Oh, does that taste bad?” I’m losing patience.

She nods, tongue out, with pleading eyes like she’s trying so hard. “Uh huh.”

“Come on. I told you to do it, now do it right.” I grip the back of her head and shove my cock in her mouth. “It’s not that bad. You can do it. You made a big mess, now you clean it up.”

She moans a little, she likes it but she still protests, it still tastes bad, we both know it isn’t bad for her, but somewhere in her she has a good girl and a dirty girl fighting it out. The dirty filthy nasty girl wins, and she sucks it down, taking it deep into her throat eagerly. She works her tongue and her hand.

“That’s it. Good girl, clean that all up. Lube and come and blood and piss and spit, all the dirty things from your sweet holes. Clean it all up.”

I feel like crying from the pressure in my balls, in my cunt, built up and wound so tight. Moments like this I find myself hip-deep in dick envy, wishing so hard that my flesh would yield in her mouth like I want it to, like I crave. Embodied silicone only goes so far. I concentrate on what it would be like if it was flesh, her sweet soft lips and slick tongue.

She pulls it out of her mouth to breathe and dribbles spit everywhere.

“Look at you, you’re making an even bigger mess.” I rub my fingers in it and rub it onto her face. “Again.”

I push her head back down, but I don’t have to use much force. She slides it as far back in her mouth as she can, nearly to the base, and I groan. I want to feel it tickle her throat. I want to feel that ring of muscles contract around the head. I get so frustrated, I nearly start crying. I have to shift.

I pull her up onto me and kiss her wet mouth. Her body feels good, sweet and lithe, and I want inside her again, haven’t had enough, am not done, but I probably can’t come this way. I just want to feel her a little more. I slide back in and she rides me, rocking her hips back and forth. I grip her wrists again and hold her up, she leans her weight down onto my arms and I hold her there, thrusting my hips up, spouting strings of dirty things, filthy little girl, come on, ride that cock, that’s how I like it, you’re so good baby, come for me again, give me that sweet tight hole, that’s my girl. I work myself up to tension and release, tightening and cresting the wave that breaks over me, but I don’t come. I thrust some more. I pull her to me, down to my chest, when she comes again. I hold her there a minute, stroking her hair, then push her back up to sitting and hold her wrists again.

“Are you done?”

“Hmmm?”

I don’t correct her phrasing, even though she’s supposed to answer questions properly. “Can you come again?”

“Right now?” she raises her eyebrows. I have lost count of how many times she’s come, but I like for her to do it on demand. We have talked about some training experiments around that.

“Right now. Do it, again, right now.”

She tightens around me, I can feel it in her hips and thighs and pulling on my dick.

“Squirt for me again, make a mess. Let me feel it drip down.”

She cries out and thrashes her arms against me. I don’t lose my grip but let her back down to lying on top of me as I feel it drip down over my cunt and to my ass.

“Mmmm thank you. That’s what I wanted, baby. My dirty girl.”

“I like to be dirty, Daddy.”

“I like it too. You know I do.” Fuck. So filthy. That dirty mouth and those dirty holes and her sweet girlish body and nasty desires. My body is spent. I fall asleep with my binder on and wake up to pull up the covers, flip off the nightstand lamp, an hour later, and I slip my arm under her neck and pull her body close to me, holding her close all night.

ALL people in story are above legal age and not related in anyway.