When I arrived, I could see that my ex-wife’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I figured she must have been out running an errand. After all, I was twenty minutes early. I decided to ring the doorbell anyway, just in case she was at home, and there was another reason for her car to be missing. After pressing it twice and waiting for about a minute for her to respond, I decided to go and listen to some music in the car until she came home. Just as I stepped away, I heard the door unlocking from the inside. A young girl of about eighteen stepped out to greet me.
“Hello, you must be Mr. Ballard,” She said in a foreign accent, holding out her hand.
I felt like I’d been shot by a bolt of lightning. She was beautiful and sweet, with light green eyes, high cheekbones, and a pearly-white smile. Her blond curly hair was tied up in pigtails with violet colored fuzzy hairbands. She was wearing a skimpy cotton violet cut-off t-shirt that clung tightly to her boobs, and although she was wearing a bra, it left little to the imagination. I could see her nipples poking through the soft material. From the second I saw her, I knew I was in trouble.
“Umm, hello. I’m Mr. Ballard,” I said clumsily, realizing that she already knew who I was.
I shook her hand, wondering who she was, but before I could ask, she started speaking.
“Your wife isn’t here,” She said, “She went to the zoo with George.”
“To the zoo!” I exclaimed, “When is she coming back?”
“She told me at about six o’clock,” She said, “Oh, and my name is Bianka. I’m from Hungary.”
All of this was a total surprise to me. I’d not heard of Bianka before, and I couldn’t understand why the hell my ex-wife was at the zoo with my son when she knew damned well I was coming to pick him up that day. I looked at my watch. I thought I was twenty minutes late, whereas my ex-wife and son were only coming home in about three hours.
“She’s my ex-wife, not my wife,” I said quietly, immediately thinking that I must seem like a dirty old man to this young girl. Emphasizing the fact that I was single might have looked as though it might make an impression on her. The girl could practically have been my daughter.
“Yes, yes, your ex-wife,” She repeated, “They will not be home for a while. Come in and have some coffee.”
Bianka turned around and walked into the house. She was wearing little blue jeans short shorts and flip flops. The sight of her superbly rounded buttocks and slender legs created an immediate swelling in my pants. I couldn’t tell what I was feeling at the time. I was pissed off that my ex-wife wasn’t at home but, on the other hand, seeing Bianka was a real treat. She was naturally youthful, yet perversely naughty at the same time. I questioned whether she knew how she looked; angelic, explosively beautiful and yet so sexual. I imagined her in bed, bouncing up and down on my dick.
I followed her into the house and to the kitchen. She filled the coffee pot, then turned to speak to me.
“I think it is the wrong date,” She said.
“But, she said the 23rd ,” I answered. “I have it on my agenda.”
“Yes, the 23rd ,” She repeated, “And today is the 16th . You are only coming next week.”
I took out my phone and opened the calendar application. She was right. I had somehow managed to mix up the weekends and had just spent an hour on the road for nothing. I blushed at the stupidity of my mistake. Thinking it through further, I realized that I had created a recurring appointment for the wrong alternating weekends after Sally, my ex-wife, had asked to change because of her fortnightly Saturday pottery classes.
“You see?” Said Bianka, “You are not on the right date.”
She was leaning back against the kitchen counter top, the arch of her back showing that she was skinny and flexible. I desperately wanted to rip off her clothes and fuck her silly, but I didn’t even know who she was.
“Who are you?” I blurted, “I mean, what relation are you to my ex-wife?”
I couldn’t have been clumsier. The poor girl didn’t even know if I was who she thought I was. I could have been a random stranger ringing the doorbell. She had graciously opened the door and welcomed me into the house, and now I was giving her the third degree.
“I’m her lesbian lover,” Bianca said with a gravitas that lasted only a couple of seconds, but enough to make my jaw drop.
“I’m an au pair,” She laughed wickedly, seeing my shock. “You thought it was true?”
I loved her accent and her sense of humor. She had me hooked. Damn, I wanted to bed her.
“Amusing,” I said, smiling through my embarrassment. “Of course I didn’t believe you.”
I was such a klutz. She must have seen me coming from a mile away. She knew damned well that I had totally believed her and that I was putty in her hands. She was messing with an older man, teasing and titillating him for her pleasure.
“I am Bianka from Hungary,” She said. “And you are Mr. Ballard from England.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I replied.
I felt like I was in some weird English lesson.
“Yes, that correct,” she repeated, mocking me. “You are a funny man.”
“Your wife has given me a room,” She continued. “Would you like to see it?”
“Holy fuck!” I thought to myself, “She wants me to see her room. Is that an invitation?”
“Oh, sure,” I responded, trying to sound neutral about her proposition.
---
She walked up the stairs in front of me, while I followed, observing the swaying of her cute little ass. Her shorts were so tiny that I caught glimpses of her white cotton panties with each step she made. I could feel the pre-cum oozing from the end of my knob with the excitement.
---
“And this is my wardrobe,” she announced, as though that were supposed to impress me.
“Very nice,” I said, hoping to come up with a suitable line to make her want to have sex with me.
“And my panty drawer,” She said, laughing. “It is called a panty drawer, right?”
“Yes,” I answered, trying to answer her questions technically correctly and not to ogle at her vast assortment of undergarments. At a glimpse, I could see that she loved girly pastel colors, ribbons and bows, much like what she was wearing. I was sure I must have been bright red by then.
“I keep my drawers in a panty drawer,” She sighed enigmatically. “English is so complicated.”
“Well, not really,” I replied, without giving it too much thought.
Of course English was easy to me. I was brought up speaking English, learning English vocabulary and grammar at school, and speaking English throughout my adult life. I didn’t speak any Hungarian, so who was I to say that English isn’t complicated? For all I knew, Hungarian could have been much more complicated.
“You are complicated,” She said. “Very British, you think one thing and you say another.”
“No I don’t!” I exclaimed, hoping to defend myself, but knowing that I was transparent.
“You want to fuck me, but you’re scared to tell me,” She continued, looking at me menacingly.
“No I don’t!” I exclaimed once again, realizing just how pathetic I sounded repeating myself.
“I can see it in your eyes,” She continued, walking up to me and taking hold of my tie.
“You all want to fuck the little schoolgirl. You’re an important man with a big career and lots of influence, but what you really want is to feel a tight young pussy squeezing your dick, something to remind you that you’re still a man.”
For a non-native speaker, she certainly knew how to get her point across. I was floored. I had no clue what to say. The only thing on my mind right then was that Bianka was available and that my ex-wife and son were at least a couple of hours away.
“OK, I’ll admit that I find you attractive,” I said.
“Shut up!” She responded, grabbing my hand and pulling me down onto the bed with her, “I want you to ravage me, treat me like your fuck doll.”
She looked me in the eye as we lay there for a few seconds. This was no longer a question of me trying to conquer a young woman. She had already shown me that she was in charge. The challenge was for me to show her that I could perform.
---
I slipped off my tie and grabbed her first by the left wrist and then by the right. I think both she and I were surprised at how quickly I had managed to tie up her hands and attach them to the headboard. I had no experience with such activities.
With her hands above her head, she didn’t have much room to manoeuver. She looked at me defiantly, kicking her legs about, but to no avail.
“You’re a dirty bastard,” She cursed at me. “I will never be your fuck doll!”
I felt possessed at her enthusiasm for the role-play, if it was role-play. I wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, I was living the moment. The sight of the young maiden tied up to the bedpost, left helpless at the hands of the villainous villain excited me beyond anything I’d ever known. She wasn’t even naked yet!
I grabbed the top of her jeans shorts, trying to steer clear of her flailing legs. By moving to her side, I was able to undo the zip and pull her jeans down, exposing the pretty white panties I had seen from behind earlier. They were visibly stained with her pussy juices.
“You’re a shit!” She exclaimed, “I am not your fuck doll!”
“But, you want to be my fuck doll,” I replied calmly, surprising myself.
I had no idea where that came from. Suddenly I was being assertive. Her game had entrapped me. I was the calculating master and she was the innocent victim.
I threw her shorts on the floor and pulled down her panties, exposing her juicy little hairless peach. She continued to writhe, so I tied her left leg to the bottom bedpost with her panties. Then, I quickly grabbed another pair from her panty drawer and tied her right leg to the opposing post.
By now, she could hardly move her limbs. I looked at her solemnly, hoping that I hadn’t gone too far. I had no experience in this kind of play and I didn’t want to end up in jail, but she reassured me.
“Now you can play with me,” She said, smiling. “What can I do?”
It was true. There wasn’t much she could do. She was tied down, unable to move, half-naked and open to exploration.
I straddled over her stomach and ripped off her t-shirt, then slipped my hands behind her back and undid her bra. She spat at me, in the face.
“What did you do that for?” I asked.
“Because you’re a jerk,” She replied. “You just want to fuck all the young girls.”
“Not all of them,” I said, hoping that I hadn’t done something wrong.
“Just the ones like me, who need to be fucked,” She continued.“The bad girls.”
“Are you bad?” I asked.
“I’m very bad,” She replied. “I will fuck your mind. Now lick my pussy, please.”
I didn’t need further encouragement.
---
I put my face between her legs and duly licked her. She had a delectable snatch, with tiny labia and a little button clitoris which responded appropriately to my tongue. That is, each time I touched it, her pussy tensed up, letting me know that it was only moments before she would come. I knew the pattern from other women I had dated. A few more gentle strokes and she would be streaming in my mouth. I went slowly, deliberately, teasing her, holding back each time she was about to blow.
“Fuck, you’re an asshole!” She yelled, writhing about in the limited space she had to move.
I smiled to myself, seeing her juicy little patch just waiting to wet the sheets. I knew my teasing would set her on edge, but I wanted to make the most of it, so I licked her until she was about to cum, then changed pattern.
“Goddamn, please just make me cum!” She practically screamed.
At that point, I knew I was in dangerous territory. I had to make her orgasm, or it was game over. I didn’t want to be the guy that almost got her off. I wanted her to remember the moment, so I teased her pussy with my tongue a few moments longer, then flicked my tongue across her clit.
Her pussy swelled in intermittent bursts as I licked her, until finally she squirted her cum juices into my awaiting mouth. I swallowed hard, enjoying the gift of her loins while she enjoyed the results of my teasing. She squeezed my head between her thighs, moaning loudly with the waves of orgasm, at first allowing me to lick her further but as the intensity built up, trying to push me away. Inevitably, it became overwhelming, to the point where she broke down and cried.
---
I crawled up the bed to face her. Her eyes were streaming with happy tears. There are no words to describe that look. It’s something you can only know if you’ve seen it. It’s like sexual exhaustion and undying love all at the same time.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“I’m more than OK,” She replied. “I’m your little fuck doll.”
---
I kissed her softly on the lips while she guided my shaft toward her pussy lips, rubbing the head between her labia before pulling me inside her. At first she felt a bit tight, but after a few moments I was fully inside her. I stroked her hair and kissed her face, feeling the pulsing veins of my cock against the ripples of her vaginal wall.
Even though she was still constrained, she was completely relaxed, and even though I had been uptight, I felt relaxed too. It felt right to be inside her, feeling her body against mine, the warmth of her flesh and especially the warmth of her smile.
“Cum inside your fuck doll,” She urged me. “I want you to fill me.”
Just hearing her voice and the words was enough to set me off. I watched her beautiful pretty smiling face while my balls throbbed and ejaculated a thick load of cum blasted through my shaft and into her swollen pussy. She watched carefully me while I pumped my wad inside her.
“Wow, that was nice!” She said. “I think I could be your fuck doll, but you’re not nasty enough.”
---
I untied her and lay down beside her, holding her close and caressing her lithe young body until we both fell asleep. Luckily, we woke up at half past five and I was able to make my escape before my ex-wife and son came home. After all, I had shown up on the wrong date.