I was dressed like a perfectly normal teenager. Red cotton shorts showed off my tanned legs and firm ass. A tight T-shirt with Sabrina Carpenter’s image that didn’t quite cover my belly. Black sneakers with bright white laces. The girl-next-door look, which I knew drove Daddy a little crazy. Not that he showed it. At least not in front of his wife.
“We’ll be back around midnight. Help yourself to the kitchen,” Mrs. Thompson told me before they left the house. Daddy, of course, was perfectly behaved. At least he was when his wife was in the same room. While she’d been in the bathroom fixing her makeup, it was a different story.
“Have you been a good girl for me?” he asked, tracing a line down my spine with the edge of his fingernail, making my pulse race, his mouth so close to my ear that I could feel his hot breath on my neck.
“Yes, Daddy. I didn’t come. I wanted to sooo bad, but I didn’t,” I told him, shivering with lust. “I saved myself for you.”
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you tonight.”
He slid his hand into the back of my cotton shorts and into my panties, tracing between my butt cheeks with a single finger, chuckling as I began to squirm. I felt my pussy clench and had to hold back a soft moan as he rubbed against my anus before withdrawing and leaving me a breathless mess.
“If you’re curious, Angie keeps our toys in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. I want your pussy dripping wet when we get home.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice shaking with lust. Our toys, he’d said. His and hers… I was already wet before they left.
Once they were gone, I was the model babysitter. We played with blocks and toy cars. I tucked him into bed and read The Gruffalo out loud before turning off the lights. And then I waited for him to fall asleep, what was going to happen later percolating in my thoughts as I helped myself to a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough.
Angie keeps her toys in the bottom drawer.
It was only 8:30. I had plenty of time to do whatever, so I finished my ice cream and let my thoughts wander. My fingers too, pinching and rubbing my nipples through my t-shirt until they throbbed. I even put my hand in my shorts and rubbed myself as I scrolled my phone for porn, getting myself even more turned on, my pussy already a mess, until, unable to stand it anymore, I climbed the stairs, two steps at a time.
Their bedroom was tasteful, if a little messy, with lots of colourful little touches to give it personality. Tchotchkes and books and family photos. All the things you would expect to find. It looked just like you’d expect.
I went through his nightstand first. He had a docking station for his phone set up on it, a photo of Angie and him on a beach, and one of their son, and not much else.
The top drawer was full of neatly folded underwear. I pulled out a pair of teal-green briefs randomly and rubbed my fingers over the soft cotton, fondling them, then sniffing them to see if they smelled of him. With a soft giggle, I wiped off some of my arousal on the crotch. I wanted them to smell of me, hoping he would notice when he put them on. Feeling suddenly bold, I sat down on the bed and stripped off my sneakers and then my shorts, tossing them on the floor. I’d purposely put on sexy panties, knowing that he would see them later. Sheer red lace. He’d like that. They were already wet. By the end of the night, they’d probably be soaked.
The bottom drawer was mostly rolled socks along with a flat shoebox-sized metal box. It was locked. Probably important things like a passport or other ID. Nothing that I had any business looking through, so I quickly pushed the drawer closed and crawled across the bed to Mrs. Thompson’s side, pausing to see what she kept on her side. Some more photos, a reading light, and some books. The covers and titles were a mixture of supernatural and kinky. Dark Desires. The Devil’s Plaything. Owned. Breaking the Girl. Maybe I’d have to read through them later.
Her top drawer mirrored his. Underwear. All the boring everyday panties were in the front, but in the back there were some sexier ones. Some kind of classy, like you’d buy at Vickies, but a few that were kind of slutty. There was one pair that was sheer and black. I had a wicked idea and tossed it on the bed before going through the bottom drawer. The one Daddy had told me about. Their toys.
He hadn’t been teasing me. It was full of sex toys. Two Dildos, one black with a suction cup on the end and one flesh coloured. Some vibrators. Something in a box called a Lush 3. A bullet. A slim red latex one. Holding it to my nose, I caught a faint scent of pussy. Her pussy. I’d never smelled another girl’s pussy before, and I felt myself blushing at how dirty it made me feel. On a whim that joined the pair of black panties on the bed.
Then there was all the really kinky stuff. Things I recognized from some of the porn I’d been watching. Some of the hardcore stuff. Anal beads. A ball gag. A leather blindfold. Leather cuffs. Nipple clips. There was even a little velvet bag full of small padlocks. I’d never be able to look at Mrs. Thompson the same way again. I wondered if they used all that stuff. They must, otherwise, why would they have it?
I felt a little guilty, snooping like this. A little turned on, too, thinking about all the things they did with their toys and about all the things Daddy could do to me with them.
I made myself comfortable on their bed, propped up against the headboard, using Angie’s pillow as a cushion. It suddenly occurred to me that it was made of polished wooden slats. So was the footboard. They looked sturdy. Perfect for tying someone to if you were into that kind of thing. The books on her stand. The toys in the drawer. Tonight had opened my eyes to a whole new level of unsuspected kinkiness, and I let my thoughts drift, fantasizing about all the things that might have happened on the very bed. Imagining her naked. Tied down. Arms and legs spread. Watching as Mr. Thompson teased her with his fingers, tongue, and toys while she was blindfolded. She wouldn’t even know I was there.
It felt a little wrong, like I might be crossing a line. Some sort of invasion of privacy. I reminded myself that I was fucking her husband. Compared to that, what I was about to do was trivial.
I started undressing. I pulled my top off over my head and shimmied out of my panties. I felt warm. Breathless. I was getting turned on by what I was about to do, and I was aware that there was already a damp patch on the bedspread. Their bedspread. On her side.
I bent my legs, pulling my knees back to my chest, hugging them to me. And then I slid her panties over my feet and up my legs. I imagined Daddy walking in on me wearing his wife’s slutty see-through underwear, her vibrator lying next to me. It would drive him nuts. He’d lose control and fuck me right there on top of the bed. Fuck me hard. Me, not her. Not his wife. His slutty teenage lover.
I wanted him to see me like this so badly. I had a terrible, stupid idea, so I grabbed my phone and took a selfie. Just my face. And then another of my tits. And finally, one of my pussy while wearing his wife’s panties. I thought about texting them to him, just barely stopping myself before I did, my heart beating so hard I thought I might pass out. And then I just lay there, another fantasy playing through my thoughts. Her finding me like this.
I’d never been with another girl, not that I was against the idea. In fact, I was intrigued by the possibility. It had just never happened. What would she do? Scream bloody murder? Throw me out of the house? Or maybe cover my body with hers and kiss me. Bite my nipples. Eat my pussy. Maybe make me eat hers. While I was thinking about it, I turned the vibrator on low and held it against my clit, sighing as the vibrations surged gently through me asI began to lose myself in pleasure.
I’m not sure how long I lay there, blissed out. I remembered Daddy telling me not to come, but I almost ignored him, pushing myself to the edge of an orgasm and maintaining that euphoric high, vaguely aware that I was leaking all over the bed, but I didn’t care. I promised to clean up after myself. It just felt too good to stop, so I didn’t, brushing the tip over my swollen clit. Panting as I slowly penetrated myself with it. Making myself writhe and moan with euphoria until I’d pushed myself right to the edge.
I barely managed to stop myself in time, lying there panting for an eternity as I regained my senses, glancing at the clock on the dresser. I had plenty of time before they got home. Leaving my clothes where they were, I wandered downstairs still wearing Mrs. Thompson’s pussy-soaked panties, unable to keep from giggling nervously.
I didn’t really have a plan or anything. Just a desire to do something naughty and fun, ending up in the living room, scrolling through channels for something to watch. Something besides the Disney Channel. When I didn’t find anything, I started going through their Blu-rays, enjoying the sensation of being practically naked in someone else’s living room.
I was feeling a little frustrated by the lack of porn, I strolled back upstairs and grabbed one of Angie’s books. Breaking the Girl. Some of the pages had the corners folded, like they’d been bookmarked. Those are the ones I read. I’d expected an erotic fantasy, or even something softcore. What I read shocked me. Scandalized, I lay there, squirming as I read, teasing my nipples and clit thoughtlessly for a good hour before shaking myself out of my horny stupor, reminding myself that I needed to put things back in order before they got home. Angie was into some serious kink.
“Have a fun night, baby girl?”
That was the first question he asked once we pulled out of the driveway.
My cheeks felt warm as I squirmed in my seat, still thinking about what I’d done earlier. About what I’d read.
“I did, Daddy,” I finally answered shyly, all too aware of the panties I’d ‘borrowed’ and how wet I was making them just sitting there. Anticipating him pulling over somewhere along the drive home. He’d told me that he wanted my pussy dripping wet, and it was.
“Take off your shorts, Katy. And then tell me all about it.”
I felt my face growing hot as I obediently worked them down my legs and over my sneakers, leaving them on the floor of his car.
“After I put Danny to bed and made sure he was sound asleep, I went into your bedroom, Daddy.”
“I want you to play with yourself, too,” he said in a voice that didn’t leave room for refusing. There was an edge to it. It felt a little dangerous. I shivered as I began running my fingers over Mrs. Thompson’s sheer lace panties, paying special attention to my clit while nervously wondering if he would recognize them.
Go on, baby girl. Tell me what you did there.”
“Looked through drawers,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked, his tone teasing. Even mocking.
“Your wife’s toys, Daddy,” I purred, moaning a little, getting wetter and wetter as I told him how I’d stripped, that I’d put on Mrs. Thompson’s panties, the ones I was wearing now. How I’d fantasized about her while using her vibe and how close I’d come to orgasming. About reading the book on her nightstand.
“But I didn’t, Daddy. I was a good girl. And I cleaned up after myself really good.”
“Which book, Babygirl?”
His voice was husky with lust. He’d been stroking my thigh through most of my confession while I’d been stroking my cunt for him.
“Breaking the Girl.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “It was a lot.”
“My wife has some extreme tastes,” he said quietly as he pulled the SUV off the road. I hadn’t really been paying attention and didn’t recognize the neighborhood. Or the small park where we parked. There weren’t any lights here. Just the ambient light from the neighborhood and the moon.
“Get out, baby. I want to fuck you so bad.”
I climbed out as he came around the car and grabbed me, turning me so that I faced the passenger door before pushing me hard against it and yanking ‘my’panties down around my thighs before forcing them apart and shoving his hand against my pussy.
“Such a hot little slut.”
My pussy was cupped from behind as he thrust his finger into me just long enough to smear juice over my engorged clit before entering me again, repeating over and over, fucking me and rubbing until I was panting like a rabid dog.
“You’re just a dirty little slut, baby. Aren’t you?”
“God. Yes,” I said, moaning as he played roughly with my pussy, flinching when I felt his finger pressing against my asshole, smearing more of my juices against my tight little star.
“Ever get fucked in the ass, baby?”
“No, Daddy,” I whimpered. I thought about objecting, but fuck, it felt so good, and I was so turned on. Instead of fighting him, I thrust my ass out. He yanked my tee up, exposing my tits, cool air against hot flesh, goosebumps prickling my arms and tits. He pushed me harder, forcing me against the passenger door, stiff nipples pressed against the glass as I felt his cockhead being pushed against my asshole. I could tell he was rock hard and horny. And then…
I let out a cry of surprise, but he shut me up with a hand over my mouth, muffling the sound as he pushed his stiff cock into me, stretching me open. He began to pound, mashing me against the car door violently while I shoved my fingers just as violently, into my dripping cunt, both of us frantically fucking like animals.
“Don’t you dare come before I do, baby,” He growled. I simply moaned, drooling into the palm of his hand as I felt him twitch and swell inside of my tight hole. I hadn’t lied. Mr. Thompson was taking my anal cherry. It felt so nasty, his thick cock in my ass, slamming into me in the middle of the parking lot. Only nasty girls had butt sex, but fuck, if I’d known it was going to feel this good, I’d have tried it long before this.
“Going to blow my load in you,” he growled, pinning me against his SUV, groping my tits from behind as his hammered my ass deeper and faster, grunting, the veneer of civilization long since discarded. In that moment, I was just a hole for his pleasure. That thought, and the feel of him tightening inside me, pumping me full of his cum, sent me over the edge.
I’m not sure who came first. I don’t think it really mattered. It was like a small explosion of red-hot pleasure bursting inside of me. I felt my juices running down my thighs, smearing all over the car door, my cunt dripping, his cock lodged deep inside my ass. I forgot how to speak or move, fighting for breath as I stood there, impaled by his car
We stayed like that for a while, both breathless, both speechless. When he finally did pull out, I could feel his cum running out of me down my trembling thighs, some of it dripping onto the pavement between my feet.
“Fuck, you are so tight.” Then he paused. “Did you like that, babygirl?”
What do you say? I mean, I’d climaxed so hard. It had hurt, but it had felt indescribably good at the same time. Like my nervous system had been lit up and overloaded all at once.
“Yes, Daddy. I liked it,” I somehow manage, my voice shaking with unfathomable lust. “I loved it.”
When he dropped me off at home, I left the panties on his front seat. The insides of my shorts were smeared and dripping with our cum, and I was kind of strung out from being keyed up all night and then being fucked into submission. I felt a little wobbly on my feet when he helped me out of the car.
“Picking me up again Friday?” I managed, kissing him passionately across the street from home after making sure that the house lights weren’t on in the living room. I really didn’t want to have to explain myself to my mom right now.
“You know it, baby. And Katy?”
“Daddy?”
“I liked it when you wore your cheer outfit.”
When I peeled my purloined panties off and slipped under the covers, I was still wet with cum and sweat. Showering had seemed too much of a chore. Besides, I wanted to smell of him. To feel his cum slowly leaking out of my ass and making a mess on my sheets as I drifted off to sleep.
^
Angie Thompson watched as her husband pulled out of the driveway before going to his office and turning on the computer. Shortly after Danny had been born, they’d had cams installed. At first, it had just been in his room so they could keep an eye on him while he slept. Now there were…
