"Hey Daddy -- I'm gonna just go up and fuck on the computer for a while, okay?"
My father, whom I still call "Daddy" but whom everyone else calls Robert, looked embroiled in a pile of spreadsheets and thick contract papers on the kitchen table. He usually brings work home from the office, so that he and I can have dinner together and, you know, spend our quality time together and stuff. Now usually he doesn't get to his work until well after dinner, because he and I usually can't stop from getting it on at least once before or during dinner. But tonight I was getting home later than normal, because I went to the mall with my pals Cherrie and Dominic, so I guess he just dove into his work early.
Daddy smiled at me through his glasses and gave me a friendly wink. "Stacey, I'd offer to take care of your needs," he muttered in a low, anguished tone, "but I promised the client I'd call him with the answer to a question, and I haven't figured it out yet." Never changing, as he spoke he didn't look in my face but instead was staring straight at the curves of my perky B-cup titties in my tight short sweater. You'd think that a man that gets to fuck me nearly every night of the week would grow tired of staring at my tits. But I still hadn't found the limit for his lust for me (bless his heart).
Putting my shopping bag and purse on the kitchen counter, I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Deer Park (best damn water on earth) then stepped to his side to look over his shoulder. I didn't exactly try to figure it all out. "Looks pretty complicated, Daddy, I'd offer to help, but I doubt I could."
He swung his head around his shoulder and gave me a toothy grin. "Thanks, baby. It'll be about an hour or so. I'll order in a pizza for us, if you want, or did you eat already?"
"I'm not really hungry," I shrugged, opening the water and taking a swig. "But if you want I can make you something."
My daddy shook his head. "Don't go to the trouble, I'm fine myself -- and I guess you're probably horny and would rather go upstairs to get off?"
"You got that fucking right." I kissed my 45-year-old father on his temple, putting my hand on his shoulder. Instantly I felt his hand slide up my low-rise jeans and rest on my asscheek, his fingers gently curving around my butt and grope it. "I kind of promised this guy I met online last night that he could have phone sex with me this afternoon, but I don't know if he'll still be there or not."
Daddy hardly blinked at my explanation; he was used to things like that about me. I mean, he's eaten other guys' cum out of my cunt when I've gotten home from dates, and he's watched home-made DVDs I had other guys make of me fucking them. So my doing phone sex was practically boring to Daddy. "Well, have fun, if he's not there, I'm sure you won't have trouble finding a cock to get off." For emphasis his hand squeezed my butt again, then it caressed across my small ass to my other side and groped the other firm little cheek too.
Already tingling from thinking about playing with men online, my pussy started to really ache with Daddy's hand on my ass. Normally I'd probably just strip and get to fucking him on the spot, but I had to be good and let him do his work. Undoubtedly he'd bang me at bedtime -- we sleep together, usually without a stitch of clothing -- so the intelligent decision was to let him be alone for a while.
I kissed his temple again and turned to leave the kitchen, but Daddy slipped his fingers into the pocket on my ass and prevented me from getting too far away. As I shrieked with a laugh and turned to him, he gave me a big fake pout. "Well I might be busy with work right now," he frowned, trying to look deprived of joy, "but give me something to look forward to -- I mean, if you're going to fuck online or on the phone, you do have to be naked, don't you?" His eyes went from my face to my chest then my crotch in my tight jeans, and I saw him lick his lips quickly.
I stepped back and out of his grasp, giving him a scolding look. "Now, Daddy, don't you have work to do? Here, I promise." I leaned forward, my hands on my knees as I stood a couple of feet away, with a very large smile on my lips. "I promise that, if you do your work good, Daddy, your baby will give you the biggest cocksucking of your life tonight, including some tongue up your hairy ass, how's that for incentive?"
Daddy giggled and pretended to think it over. "Well, alright," came his delayed, slow response, "but still, the least you could do for your old man is let me strip you before you go upstairs."
"Geesh, really now." Actually, I was thinking myself of letting him get my festivities started, but I didn't want to do something that would lead to something else, and something else, and so on. But since he offered, I wasn't going to say no. "You are such a perv, Daddy. Fine."
I lifted one foot and put my boot on the front edge of his chair, right between his thighs. Daddy smiled warmly, looking down my thin skinny legs at my light-brown suade boot going halfway up my calf. He put one hand on the back of the boot and used his other hand to unzip the boot's zipper, then he held the heel in both hands so I could pull my foot out of it. Since the floor was kind of cold from the wintery weather outside, I left my sock on. I went to put my other foot on his chair but, to be playful, I lifted my foot even higher and pressed the ball of my foot against Daddy's crotch. I could tell he had a pretty good hard-on inside his pants. Daddy pretended not to notice as he unzipped this other boot for me, then removed it from my small sock-clad foot.
Stepping in front of Daddy now, I put my hands over my head, pulling up some of my long, curly blonde hair. "Do the honors now, Daddy," I giggled. He reached out both hands and took my soft sweater at its bottom edge on my sides, even with about my belly-button, and pulled it straight up over my raised arms. My wavy hair flew around my face then dropped down in a disheveled mess. I quickly ran fingers of both hands through my hair to straighten it out, and Daddy was already working on my low-rise jeans. I stood quietly watching him unzip my jeans then unbutton them, and I put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself as my father stripped off my jeans. I carefully stepped out of them, leaving me in a white bra and black lacy thongs (plus the small ankle-high white socks).
Without a word I spun around, showing my father my almost-nude ass, lifting my hair to let him unfasten my bra. He expertly unsnapped it in a hurry, then brushed the straps off my side so I was topless. Turning to face him now just in my thong and socks, I stepped forward one last time and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, Daddy."
"What," he pouted again, "don't you want the thong off too?"
"You silly!" I shook my head with a grin. "That might come off later -- depends if the guy is hot or not!"
He sat back and threw his hands up. "Can't blame a father for trying. Now go up there and leave me alone, and have some good cums."
In a high pitch I blurted out one last, "Thanks, Daddy!" as I turned and grabbed my water bottle again. I made sure to put a swing in my step, so my small heart-shaped ass shook side to side, as I left the room. I couldn't resist turning to look back at him, to make sure he was staring at my virtually nude butt outlined in my skimpy thong, and of course his eyes were turned right towards it.
"I'm fuckin' that ass later, count on it," he grinned from across the hallway at me.
"Oh, okay," I said with a big voice, circling my finger and thumb for the "OK" symbol. Then I proceeded up the stairs to my bedroom.
To be clear, I don't sleep in my bedroom. It's "my" room -- it's got all my clothing in it, my old stuffed animals from childhood I never threw out, my CD, all my stuff. Well, most of my stuff; my makeup was in the master bedroom, on what used to be my mother's vanity. It was entirely my vanity now; any bitch that leaves her family when I was only 8 doesn't exist any more, as far as I'm fucking concerned. Anyway, I keep my own room just so that, if we have regular visitors over, it's not weird or anything that the 19 year old daughter doesn't have her own room. But about the only thing "my" bed is used for is fucking -- phonesex, or Daddy and me wanting to get it on in a different room, or sometimes if I bring a date home. (Daddy sometimes likes to watch from the closet.)
My computer is in my room, which is the main reason I'm ever in the room in the first place. Snapping it on, I pulled up my computer chair and sat in it cross-legged, sitting on my ankles. I felt the strap of my thong dig into my asscrack as I crossed my legs under me. My nipples were hard, but mostly from the cool air of the house, and my thong's front panel was damp from juices starting to leak from my pussy. My Daddy got me a very new computer that turns on and gets everything ready to go in like 10 seconds, it's the fastest one I've ever seen. So within a couple of minutes I was logged into my emails and getting ready to go into a chatroom.
Not a lot of email traffic today, just four new emails. (On a "good" day, I might have 10 or more.) A couple of the emails were from guys I'd screwed online or on the phone in the past, and I wasn't interested in reading them, neither really turned me on enough for a repeat. One email was from my buddy Ligner, he's someone I knew at school last year and he was just checking in on me. I hadn't seen him in forever, although we trade emails all the time. The really funny thing is, he's a doll and very smart, but he's just a good friend, not a fuck buddy or anything. Most guys who are my friends don't have my "sexy" email address, I just give them my "boring" email address. Ligner actually found one of my ads in a local website, however, that my Dad put there for me, and although the ad doesn't have my name or face pic, Ligner actually figured out it was me. (I think the ad said something about my fetish for Greek food, which along with the picture of my tits, he was able to deduce it was me.) He teased me about being a slut for older men, and I teased him about needing a girlfriend by looking online, but we've basically just corresponded through my sexy email address. I figure that, like most guys, he probably would fuck me if he had the chance, but he's never really asked. I don't know, maybe he was being good to his girlfriend or something stupid like that. Me, I mean, live a little, huh?
The fourth email was a new name, it was a response to another one of my online ads. From some guy named Charlie, he said he saw my ad looking for hung married men in our area. "I have what you want," he wrote, "it's 7 inches, extremely thick, married, lasts a long time, and loves to fuck college girls like you." What really caught my eye was that he actually followed the directions in my online ad -- he included his cellphone number (with times of when it's good to call), plus a face pic (handsome!), plus a nude pic of him from his knees up to his face. And, ohhh mercy yes, he had one BIG erection. My already-tingling pussy creamed at the sight of the picture. I instantly clicked on the link to his profile on the website, and saw a different picture, a close-up of his sexy penis (huge head, I might add), plus his scant bio. This man wasn't a lot for words. The bio did tell me he lived in a town I'd heard of, but didn't know where it was around us, so I figured he was probably 30 to 60 minutes away.
Mmm, yes, I'm going to fuck this man for sure. Nice big cock. I'm very bad; I love helping married men cheat. The sex is so nasty and fun, and they tend to be both experienced plus sexually frustrated -- plus, the guys aren't exactly trying to worm into every aspect of my life. I have my Daddy for that!
I looked at Charlie's email again, which said I could call him 10 am to 2 pm any work day. Since it was nearly 6 pm, I wasn't going to call of course. Iinstead, I wrote him something that I thought would get his attention:
"Charlie -- your cock is a dream. How many girls have you stuck it in lately? I'm so happy you emailed me. I'm not really into dating or going out, but if you want to get together and fuck, I would love to. How far away do you live? I have a car but am still learning my way around, I've only been driving 3 years. I can pretty much meet you any time you want, I don't go to school anymore, and I don't have to work. Will you make me your little slut for a few hours? I do anything! xXx oOo xXx oOo Stacey"
That last line -- about being a little slut and doing anything -- I put in most of my emails to men. Daddy taught me that's what men want to hear, and he's right. Plus, the line is true. It's not like, I'd say I'll do anything, then during sex I'd have to say, "No, I don't do that," so it wouldn't be anything, would it? I've said "yes" to guys tying me up tight, putting just about anything in my pussy and asshole, deep-throating, even one guy wanted me to dress up like his daughter and call me her name. So that's basically anything, in my book.
For good measure, I attached to the email four pictures of me: me nude, lying on a bed with my legs spread, a full-body picture with my face; me licking off a penis that had just cum all over my face (it was Daddy's penis, but I wasn't about to tell anyone else that); me in a thong bikini at the beach, with one of my bikini top's triangles pulled to the side to expose my nipple; and finally, me in a big snow bunny costure I wore a couple years ago in a high school play. I like this set of four pictures, it shows my fun self, plus you can tell they're real, I mean, no one could get four like this from an online porn site. (Who has pictures of girls in bunny costumes?)
Off went the email. I knew I'd be hearing back from him!
My vagina was pretty anxious now, thinking about getting a cock like Charlie's, so I logged into one of my chat accounts on my favorite chat room. The chat website had rooms for many different locations around the country, so by picking my home state, I could always find people who lived nearby. I'd only met, I think, two of the guys for actual sex, but I liked the idea of chatting with guys who actually live around me, it makes the chat so much more edgy and sexy. If I chat with a guy from across the country, it's like he isn't real, you know? That's what the fucking phone is for, of course.
Pretty quickly after logging online, I started getting bombarded with whispers (IMs, or PMs, or bubbles, or whatever you want to call them). My screen name, 19yearoldslut, pretty much gets attention. I ignore most of them. But one of them was from a name I recognized, "Buckitz," it was the guy I was supposed to have phonesex with today.
My creamy pussy shot a bolt of electricity through me, I just get all excited knowing a hot man is looking out for me. I minimized my other whispers and read his; it was a boring "Howareya, remember me?" I giggled to myself and grinned as I proved my memory. "Yeah, you're name is Paul, you're married, you don't have kids but your wife is pregnant, and you sent me a picture of your big dick last night."
I don't know if I impressed him, but he wrote back with an attitude: "And you're Stacey, you're 19, have very hot tits, and you promised that you'd send me a picture of your butt, which you never did!"
"True," I typed quickly, "I forgot, but here it is...." I opened a box to attach a picture, and I selected one of me naked on my fours, with my knees parted, the camera showing my asshole and clean-shaven pussy from behind. I always get complements from that photo.
"FUCK!" he wrote in his immediate response, with a really big font. I guess he liked it too. Then he typed, "That is one fuckable ass and pussy you have, if that's really you!"
I was liking his attitude, it's better than guys who pretend to hang on every word I write, like they are getting on my good side. I prefer a guy who doesn't give it up quite so easy, you know? And I can't blame him, the only pictures I'd showed Paul so far were on the verge of being porn, which anyone can get from websites these days. "Oh it's me," I wrote back, "here, see for yourself." Now I attached a bunch of other pictures, basically throwing some randomly from the My Pictures folder. Me in the bunny costume, me with my Daddy at a fancy ball, me pouting in the passenger seat of the car refusing to get out of it (long story there), me when I was 15 years old at a Christmas party wearing antlers on my head. Then, the sexy ones: me nude spreading, fingering my vagina; me with cum on my tits (Daddy's); me on my fours getting fucked from behind, with my head turned to look up at the camera (that was Daddy too); me nude riding a guy's fat cock (not Daddy; the guy took the picture with his cellphone).
It must have taken a while for the photos to get across to the guy, but after a delay (during which I lightly rubbed my nipples) he wrote, "Stacey, you are incredibly beautiful! Thank you so much for the fabulous pictures, would you mind if I save them?"
"Don't send them to anyone," I answered, which drew an immediate agreement from him.
"I won't," his words said on my computer screen, "I just want to be able to open them and see what a ridiculously hot girl you are -- and I'll probably grab my dick and jerk it off."
I giggled at his obvious comment. "You better!" I typed for a laugh. My vagina was thinking about the picture of his cock from yesterday. "Is your cock hard Paul?"
"You better believe it!" he quickly responded. "I'm naked stroking it looking at your pictures."
My throbbing clitoris pulsed harder at those words, I was visualizing his penis in his hand. I love seeing males stroking their dicks; it's just that, in person, I rarely stay away from them just to watch. But I wanted to be sure fun with Paul wouldn't be interrupted. "Are you home alone?"
"Yes," he wrote, "my wife has a late OBGYN appointment after her work, she won't be home for about three hours at least."
I smirked at the news that the pregnant wife was at her doctor's for an appointment, while the woman's cheating husband was at home nude stroking his cock trying to get off with other girls. This was exactly the sort of jerk I loved to fuck; I wouldn't in a million years want to marry a guy like this, or even date one, but these jerks are really fun in bed.
One of my standard questions came to mind. I wrote, "Is your wife pretty," not sure if I asked him that yesterday.
His response took time, but it was because he attached a picture. It was him and his wife smiling for the camera at what looked to be a restaurant, maybe a wedding reception. She had short blonde hair, kind of a squared-off face, nice big eyes, she was attractive without being hot. He wrote with it, "Here she is, she's okay-looking I guess, but she's not sizzling hot like you!"
See? What a jerk; it was making my pussy so fucking wet. I wasn't touching myself there, and my thighs weren't even closed. I like getting really horny and building the need to touch it. Instead, I stroked one hard nipple with two fingers, all the way along the fingers, until then I used my flattened palm to caress the hard nub. Then I typed again, sure to play to his ego. "Awww you're so sweet!!!!" My arousal was more than doubling or tripling, having seen the picture of the woman he was actually cheating on. Knowing what she looked like made his infidelity so much hotter to me. "So Paul how long has it been since you cheated on her?"
"You mean for real?"
He had a good point, I mean, most wives would think cybersex or phonesex is cheating, which is hot to me; but what's really hot, of course, is that married guys actually sneak around sticking their dicks in other women. "Yeah for real?"
Paul's response was entirely evasive and defensive. "Well you have to remember she's pregnant, she has gotten pretty big and she is worried about hurting the baby, so she and I don't fuck now."
Mmm, an active cheater! Frankly, I liked that; I have always feared, although it hasn't actually happened, that a guy might weird out on me if I was the first girl he cheated with. I laughed at what he wanted me to infer from his response. "So that means you are fucking other girls?"
I was right. He admitted, "Oh yeah, I am, with a girl from work, and a woman I met through a web site."
Now, I don't always believe guys when they talk about girls they are screwing, not that it really matters. But, on the chance he had something that would make me hot, I asked, "Do you have pictures of either of the girls?" My vagina was really starting to ache for attention; I slipped my feet off of the chair, putting them on the floor, so I could stretch my legs out and arch my back. Between my thighs, my mound was really making my thong damp.
"Not Vicky, but probably for Diane yes," he wrote. I had to resist the temptation to touch my pussy while waiting for his next email, which I hoped would be something sexy. I got a picture, but maybe not what I expected; it was the cropped photo of a smiling blonde woman in her early 30s, maybe, with her arm around a guy standing next to her but his image was wiped out. She had dirty-blonde hair in pigtails, if you can believe that, and she looked sort of diminutive like me, not much more than 5 foot 2 or something, with a smaller chest than me in her plain sundress.
"Who is she?" I asked, staring at her smiling face, visualizing her mouth wrapped around Paul's big penis.
"Diane, I met her on a dating website, she's married."
Ooh, two people cheating together, I liked that thought! Mmm, I was going to have to touch my kitty pretty soon. "How many times have you fucked her."
"Twice, oral sex just once, and fucked last time," he answered, then added quickly, "and we have a date Saturday morning."
I found myself jealous that she was going to get fucked by him; it was just sort of an instinctive reaction, it wasn't like I felt competitive with her. "Are you going to fuck her Saturday morning, Paul?" Ok, I gave in, my hand on my breast slid down my flat tummy to my thong. I stiffened one finger and pushed it over my clit, just grinding down on it, giving it some relief. Mmm, that felt good.
"We are meeting at my office," came his playful answer, "it'll be empty, she and I fucked there last time and I am sure we'll do it again." Then, without giving me a chance to write something, he asked me a question now. "Do you have any more pictures of you fucking?"
I laughed, because I have a ton. Daddy is very capable with a camera in his hand while his cock is in me. Plus, he made screen captures of two of the DVDs I've made of me fucking other men. But, sending dirty photos of myself is not particularly fun for me; I just sit there waiting for the computer to load, and I'm not really getting anything out of it. I love making men hard, but if they pop off and log off, I'm just left sitting in my pool of juice. Men are kind of assholes that way. "I might have a couple, but it would take me a while to find the disk."
He bought my excuse, I guess with a hard cock in his hand he didn't want to wait. "Would you send them to me later?" he typed instead.
"Sure," I wrote. I didn't really have an intention to do that. I was getting pretty uncomfortable now, my thong was sopping wet on my pussy that really wanted to come out and play. So I wrote Paul, "Do you have your big dick in your hand baby?" I was visualizing his penis erect and hot, with his fingers wrapped around it, stroking it up and down.
"No, I like it just pointing up," he explained. "Are you naked Stacey?"
I thought about telling him I have a webcam, and could show him what I was doing, but we'd have start up completely separate Yahoo IMs, and I have this standard that if a guy doesn't have his own cam, I'm not really going to give anyone a free show. Again, not a lot for me in it, is there? Have your own fucking webcam, go spend $100 why don't you. So, instead, I wrote him another idea. "I am not quite nude, Paul, I have my thong on -- want to listen to me take it off?"
His response came through the computer lines at the speed of light. "Fuck yes, can I call you?"
Now, here again is one of my standards. Daddy lets me give out my private phone number, it's the second line to the house, and we know whoever is calling it is probably some guy who wants my pussy. I only use the number for my sex fun. My friends call my cellphone, and I never give out Daddy's phone number. I don't give out my cellphone number to guys on the internet, I mean, I don't want to be bothered by horny men I found boring. If I really like a guy, he'll get my number eventually.
"I'll give you my number," I typed, my fingers anxious to get off the computer so I could go lay on "my" bed, "but you have to promise me not to hang up when you cum."
I liked his response. "Do guys really do that to you?"
"You won't believe how many," I answered truthfully.
"I can talk a couple of hours," he explained to my satisfaction, "so the sooner I get your number the longer we can talk."
I really wanted to get off, so his plan was sweet music. "Call me at ..." and I typed out my phone number. Then I added, "I don't have to log off, call right now."
I instantly looked at my wireless phone, currently sitting on its base right next to my computer. I kind of expected it to ring instantly, but about a minute passed and nothing happened. Paul wasn't typing anything either. Disappointment suddenly hit, hoping that he wasn't one of those guys who gets a phone number for phonesex then never dials it. I can't explain that phenomenon, but it's happened a few times to me. Like guys chicken out or something. What's the point of that?
I smiled and stood up, pushing my computer chair backwards with the backs of my knees as my legs straightened. Then I grabbed the phone, my other hand tugging at the straps of my thong on my hips to smooth it out. It was really wet on my pussylips. "Hello?" I answered, assuming it would be him.
It was. "Hi Stacey, it's me, Paul," came a very smooth, deep, confident voice. It really turned me on; I could hear maturity, lust, and manliness in just those few words.
"Hi there, Paul," I giggled back, "I'm glad you could call."
He let out a deep breath, then he asked in a low tone, "Oh, why's that?"
"Mmm," I purred, biting my lip, wondering how truthful I should be. I leaned my almost-nude butt backwards, resting it against the front edge of my desk. "Because I'm really wet for you, Paul."
"Oh, are you now?" He didn't sound cocky, nor surprised, his voice was steady and smooth. "My prick is really hard for you, Stacey, you are really gorgeous and sexy."
"Thanks," meekly came my response, I was weakened from my arousal and trying not to be too anxious about getting right into it. I liked the tension to build a little. "Tell me all about your cock, Paul."
As the words were coming out of my mouth, I looked up and saw Daddy coming through my door. It wasn't closed, just cracked, and he quietly pushed it open to walk into my room. He heard every word of that sentence, and as soon as he did, he grinned at me with a silent smile. Daddy was fully dressed, a huge tent sticking out of his crotch. His dick, which I know so well, was fully erect inside those pants. He stood there in the middle of my room, watching me approvingly.
I turned my attention to the phone. Paul answered my question about his tool. "You saw the picture, right, it's very, very thick, girls are always saying it's so thick."
"Oh fuck," I moaned, squeezing my thighs together, one hand grabbing the desk as I held the phone to my ear tightly. I could sense Daddy watching me, but I wasn't looking at him. "I love thick cocks, Paul, I love how they--"
He almost cut me off with a question. "How many do you -- no, tell me Stacey, what do they do?"
"They stretch my pussy," I moaned anxiously, now looking at Daddy. His face didn't change, he was smiling at me. I didn't wink or smile at him, but I looked at him while I talked to Paul. "I love a guy to just fucking stretch my legs open, and like, shove your really fat dick into my pussy so it hurts when you go in, I love that."
Paul's breath was audible, and you could tell he was jerking his meat. "Ooh, Stacey, I bet you have a really tight pussy, don't you?"
"Tight bald 19 year old pussy," I whined at the top of my high-pitched voice, "tight for big manly cocks like yours." I was still looking at my father, and him back at me, but we weren't communicating in any way. He was just enjoying being a voyeur with me, and I loved how he found my sexuality entertaining. "Paul, have you fucked a 19 year old lately?"
He chuckled on the phone. "No, the youngest I've fucked since I got married is a girl in her 20s. Tell me Stacey, have you fucked any men in their 30s or older?"
"Oh yeah!" I knew Daddy couldn't hear Paul's voice, so I decided to repeat the questions a bit, so Daddy could follow along. "I've fucked a lot of guys in their 30s or older; I love older men, I don't usually fuck boys my age or anything."
"You are perfect for me then," Paul soothed, "how many men have you fucked?"
I giggled, shy, even looking down a moment, then looking againt at my father sheepishly. "Ummm," I hesitated for Paul, not sure how honest I should be. "Well, how many men have I fucked? Don't, like, be, like, judgmental, okay?" I knew he wouldn't be, and of course he immediately said he wouldn't be, so I told him the truth. "I've fucked probably about 12 men, most of them older, most of them married, not all."
"My, my," Paul admired on the phone, his voice not the least bit disappointed, "you are a fun date, aren't you? Are all these men you met online?"
"Most," I said truthfully, "not all."
"You have a boyfriend?" asked the stranger on the phone, still stroking his penis talking to me.
For this question, I smiled at my father's eyes as I answered it. "Do I have a boyfriend? Um, yeah, I do -- he's 42, he's very, very sexy, and he gives me the longest, hottest fucks." My dad knew I was talking about him, and he winked, but otherwise he didn't smile or do or say anything. He was making sure I had my fun on the phone, and so he didn't ruin it by letting Paul know he was in the room.
"Is that your boyfriend's cock in the pictures?" asked Paul, the beating of his meat still clearly discernable.
I nodded, as I started making my way to my bed. This talk was fun, but I needed to fuck. "Yeah, most of them it's him"
"What's his name?" As Paul asked that, I put one knee on the bed, my other foot remaining on the floor. I reached one hand behind myself on my bed, propping me up, my back arching and my B-cup titties pointing straight ahead. My father admired my nudity from his distance, still not moving. To answer Paul, I flicked my long golden hair away from my ear with the phone. "His name is Robert," I answered, not looking at my father this time, "and he's my boyfriend not just because he fucks me so good, but because I love him so much, and he cares for me like no one else."
"Mmm, more than your own father even?" asked the ignorant man on the phone, who was definitely not going to learn the truth, ever. "Lucky guy, Robert, getting to fuck you, you are sensationally sexy, Stacey, your body is fucking perfect."
"But he's not here!" I lied, whining as I said it. "He's left me alone, Paul, and my pussy is aching for you, I wish you were here baby."
"And if I were there," he said very deliberately and slowly, "what would you want me to do? Tell me, exactly."
I sighed, my twat dying to come out from my drenched thong. "Well, before I do that," I giggled at him, "do you want me to take off my thong, Paul?"
I heard him breathing and stroking his dick a few seconds before he answered. "Maybe not yet, Stacey, how wet is it?"
Oh the tease! But I was willing to do what he wanted, it was a fun part of the game. "Paul, it's drenched, I want to cum so bad, I'm streaming for your big cock baby. Please, Paul, please, let me take off my thong, I wish you were here so bad!" I leaned back more, now sitting on my ass with my elbow behind me propping up my top, my knees spread. Daddy was eyeing the shape of my wet thong on my shaved cuntlips.
The man responded confidently, "Not yet, Stacey. Before you take it off, I want to tell you about something first, okay."
I was on one level mad at him, I just wanted to cum so bad, but of course I didn't say anything like that. Every guy has his own way of doing phonesex; that was part of the fun of it, it was like how different guys fuck differently in bed. The point of the game was always the same, but the rules changed you know. "Tell me what, Paul?"
His tone was more subdued and quiet, but still firm and confident. "Picture this, Stacey. The girl in my office I'm fucking? She's our events coordinator. Her name is Vicky, she's this very foxy 29 year old with long black hair. Two weeks ago we were setting up a convention booth in Vegas, and I lied to my wife that I needed to go out a day early to help set up. It was bullshit, the contractor set us up. Stacey was in my hotel room the entire day with me, we fucked all day, I mean, we didn't leave for almost 14 hours. And," he added with a smirk I could hear over the phone, "during the day I was on the phone with my wife, telling her I loved her and missed her, while Vicky was sucking my dick or fucking me, and I had Vicky's pussy juice all over my face and everything."
"Holy fuck!" Air burst out of my lungs hearing the story, I flopped onto my back and pulled my knees open, feeling my thong stretch and twist on my cuntlips. He was pushing my buttons, he somehow knew that story would really turn me on. "Oh fuck, Paul, that's so hot -- that's so hot -- oh I want you so bad, Paul!" I needed to put my fingers on my pussy, but I resisted. I glanced up, and Daddy was pulling my computer chair quietly into the middle of the floor, sitting on it backwards while he faced me. He wasn't taking off his clothing or touching himself or anything. I liked how he just wanted to watch me have phonesex, I guess just like how he'd hide in my closet watching me fuck other guys. He's been in there over 3 hours while I screwed and slept on "my" bed with other men, so this was nothing out of the ordinary for him.
"I knew you'd like that," Paul snickered, a bit of his ego coming out now, "I can tell since you like fucking married men, you get off on it, don't you, Stacey?"
"Yes!" I blurted it out anxiously, hoping to get to the point he'd let me fuck myself. "I love it, that's so hot. Oh fuck Paul!" I had to close my eyes and bite my lip, my clitoris was literally burning in my thong, it was hurting for real.
Paul snickered again. "Does it make you really wet hearing about it?"
I hated him for tormenting me like this, I loved it. "Yes!"
My reaction only encouraged his playfulness. "The first time I cheated, Stacey, was the day after I got back from my honeymoon. My wife had to go into work to catch up, I had the day free, and an ex-girlfriend sent me an email. She didn't know I was married. So I went to her place for lunch, and she met me at the door wearing just a robe, nothing else. Pretty much we just made out as soon as I got in her place and we started fucking and doing everything." He laughed and asked, "And want to know what happened?"
"Please!" All I was aware of was the intense pressure inside my vagina, wanting to be filled with something, and how my clitoris begged to be plucked and played. My nipples also ached, pointing so hard. I forced myself to remain still, listening to Paul's stories working me up. Daddy, of course, couldn't hear the stories, he was just watching my body as I listened, and the pained look on my face.
"Well, my ex, Kristi, after the fucking asked if we could get back together, so I told her I was just married you know? And she said she didn't care, she said, 'I don't fucking care about that,' so for about three months I fucked Kristi about as much as I fucked my wife."
This guy was truly a creep; even if the stories weren't true, the fact that he liked telling the stories made him scum. But my heart was hoping they were true. I was picturing his wife, her smiling innocent face, not having a clue, thinking she's bagged this hot guy with a massive cock, and he's all hers. Meanwhile from the outset he's been banging other pussies and lying to her while he stuffs tons of horny women. My body ached to be one of those women, I knew he lived far away to the West, I wished he lived close.
"Paul," I squealed, "you're so sexy, I'd love to be one of your sluts, I wish you lived close so you could fuck me so good."
"You do, huh?" His confidence was growing, and he certainly was enjoying plucking my strings. "I like hearing it, tell me again you'd be my slut?"
I gladly obliged. "Paul, I want to fuck you so bad! My cunt is so wet for your big dick Paul. I'd be your slut every day, I'd fucking wait at home alone at night hoping you sneak away from your wife to come fuck me!" I loved him hearing it; and I loved my Daddy hearing it too, right in front of me. I wasn't really lying, either; right now, I was fucking Paul, and he was the only man I wanted at the moment. If my wish came true, I probably would hate myself forever, but when I was desperate for Paul's dick in me, my wish was brutally honest at that point in time.
"Mmm, you are a hot slut, aren't you Stacey?" Paul's manhandling of his penis was getting louder, he was whacking it rhythmically.
I pictured his hand on his penis and I loved it. I could imagine his precum leaking out. "I'm a slut, Paul, I would be your slut, I want your big cock so bad. Paul, baby, let me take off my thong, I want to fuck you so bad!"
My words were fuel on his fire, which in turn gave him the ability to tease me even worse. "I'll let you take off that thong and fuck yourself, Stacey, but first you have to tell me, um, when was the last time -- who was the last married guy you cheated with?"
Fuck him, now I had to tell a story! My vagina and clit were about to pack their bags and leave, they wanted my attention so bad. Just put your hand down there, Stacey, rub it, I told myself. But I didn't move, not yet, intensifying the need to fuck. "Um, well, it was a few weeks ago, maybe a month. But," I said, thinking of facts I could easily remember in my state of arousal, "even today, I got an email from a handsome married guy who lives around here, he wants to fuck me, and I told him I want to fuck him too." I glanced up, and my stoic Daddy looked at me without changing his countenance, but I know he heard the words.
"Did you?" Paul sighed deeply, like he was letting my words roll around inside his head. "Did you talk to him yet? Or you just emailed him?"
Minor details, who cares? "I emailed him," I said tersely.
Paul was way ahead of me, the tease. "Very sexy, you are pretty slutty," he admired, "so I'll let you take off the thong, but you have to do ONE more thing for me, alright? Okay?"
I would have done virtually anything to get my thong off. "Yes," I said in a hushed voice.
"Go to your computer again," Paul said, "if it's still on, and if it is, I want you to forward to me right now, right now, the email you sent to this guy, okay?"
"Okay." I was too aroused to think of the implications; I just wanted to get off. "Hurry, Paul, I want to fuck so badly!"
"Ahh, my little slut," Paul cackled over the phone, "it's all up to you, just go to your computer and forward the email to me, so I can see what a little slut you are -- tell me when you're ready to type in my email address, okay?"
"Alright." I sucked in some air, forcing myself to sit upright on the bed. Daddy looked at me funny, but I had to ignore him. I stood up, arching my stiff legs, and stepped to my desk. I didn't have the computer chair now, so I just leaned over, my almost-naked ass literally within a foot of my father. He didn't touch it. I held the phone to my ear while my other hand used the mouse to call up my online emails, and I opened up my response email to Charlie. I hit "Forward," and a clean screen came up. "Okay," I spat into the phone, "what's your email baby?"
Paul told it to me, repeating it two times, then he had me read it back to him two times character for character. I had an error, he correctly guessed; don't trust a 19 year old to type something when she's horny. Or ever, for that matter. "Now hit send, Stacey," he ordered, and I did exactly as he said.
It suddenly occurred to me, as soon as the email was sent, that I forwarded not just my email to Charlie, with my pictures (who cares about that), but also Charlie's email to me, with HIS pictures, and HIS cellphone. That probably was not smart; on the other hand, I didn't see Paul calling up Charlie asking for phonesex.
From around my ass, I noticed behind me my father leaning over to read the emails between Charlie and me. Sometimes we read my emails together, and he's even composed them for me, and a few times he's even responded to other men without my knowing, always pretending to be me. It's fun, Daddy loves me hooking up!
I stood up, pushing my long hair off of my face. "Did you get it, baby?" I asked anxiously, hoping for approval to go strip.
"Wait, wait," Paul cautioned, giving me goosebumps as I waited like he said. Finally he chuckled, and I could hear him reading to himself the text of Charlie's email, then mine. "Well, well, Stacey, you little slut, you'll put out for a man just because he has a big dick and sends you his phone number, huh?"
My hand was in the proverbial cookie jar. Of course, no one says I'll actually agree to fuck Charlie; I was just getting his attention to email me back. But, in truth, Charlie was probably the hottest man and cock who's emailed me from our local area, so if I had my way, Charlie's penis would be inside my mouth and vagina by the end of the week. "Like I said," I giggled for Paul to explain myself, "I love big married cocks." I looked at Daddy, who continued to stare blankly back at me.
"That's good, Stacey, because I have a big married cock -- you'd fuck me, wouldn't you?"
"Yes!" I quickly raced back to my bed, sitting on the edge in front of my father, my feet on the floor and thighs parted a little. "Seriously, Paul, would you ever visit here -- I love your big cock, you could fuck me all night if you did."
"Maybe," Paul answered thoughtfully. "I'm thinking, there is the stupid Max America trade show, it's early next year. We never go to it, but I bet I could make a bullshit reason to go." He laughed at something. "But Stacey, if we go, Vicky would be there too, and she'd want my cock all day -- would you let me fuck you with another hot brunette?"
I've never done the girl/girl thing, but Daddy keeps asking me to do it; the closest time was when I watched Daddy fuck his birthday present this summer, my friend Antoinette. Toni isn't gay either, so Daddy's fantasy wasn't about to cum true. Still, I have fantasized about eating a woman, and I've gotten off to porn movies with my father watching hot lesbians fuck each other. Maybe eating the pussy of one of my best friends wasn't the right time for my first girl/girl thing; a hot girl I never met before and would never meet again probably would be the right situation. So, for Paul's request, I couldn't rule it out, but I didn't see myself sharing a hot cock like Paul's. "We'll see," I answered with as much affirmation as I could allow, "but Paul, I want to fuck your big cock right now, please, please!"
I smiled at my Daddy in the chair in front of me, pulling my legs open as I leaned back. I wanted Daddy to see how wet I was for this man on the phone. Daddy's eyes landed right on my twat in my thong.
"Describe your thong to me, honey?" Paul was going to make this torturous.
"Fuck, Paul, it's so wet!" I lifted my head to look at my crotch, seeing the bulge of my pussylips in the saturated black lacy thong. "It's black, with Stacey frills around the edges, and a little lace on the panel, and it has these thin strings going over my hips and down my ass."
Paul moaned, hearing it. I was getting to him now, a little. "You want to take it off, Stacey?"
"Fuck yes, Paul, please, let me take it off!" I was almost screaming into the phone.
"And," he teased, "if you take it off, what will you do?"
I took a deep breath, almost laughing at how painful my vagina was right now. "Anything, anything you want, I want to--"
"What do you want to do?" He was reading my mind.
"I want to fuck it, I want to put my fingers in it." I let the words sink into him, then I blurted out excitedly, "I wish you were here so you could put your huge penis in me, and fuck me, like your little hot slut!"
Paul groaned now, a loud deep gutteral noise. "Ooh yeah, baby, ooh yeah. My dick is so big for you, if you were here I would shove it into your mouth so you could suck it hard."
"Paul!" I will admit I was begging. "Please, Paul, let me take my thong off, I'm so fucking hot to fuck you honey!" Then, grinning with an idea, I tossed my head back to send hair out of my eyes, and I said to him callously, "Paul, you know you want me, I'm so much hotter than your pregnant wife, you want my tight 19 year old cunt, don't you?"
He laughed, because he couldn't disagree. "You know it, Stacey, I'd do you over her any time."
"She doesn't turn you on at all, does she?" I've talked to married men before, I knew what they are like. Not all men are this way; but the ones that fuck around usually are. "I'm what you want, I'm a slut, I fuck men as much as you love fucking other women, we were made to fuck each other, Paul. You want my shaved little cunt, you want to stick your fat dick in my tight ass. You want to see me suck your big penis down my throat as I look at you and you cum in my stomach." I don't know about him, but I was getting so close to orgasm just saying it, and thinking it.
Paul didn't let on, if he was as aroused as I was. "Is that what you want, Stacey, to fuck me like that?"
I moaned and almost put my hand on my pained clit, it was going to erupt and I'd need hospitalization if I didn't touch it. "Fuck, yes, Paul, spread me and use me, fuck my fucking slutty brains out Paul, make me your fucking cockwhore!" I opened my eyes to stare at Daddy's face, and he stared back at me, listening to my words. He was so hot hearing me talk like this, I know him so well. I can't imagine how he doesn't want to get up, grab the phone and hang up, take out his penis, and bang my cunt all night himself. Honestly, if he did, I wouldn't care at all, it would be beautiful, Paul could go fuck himself.
My partner on the phone mulled over my words, then he finally said what I wanted to hear. "Stacey, take your thong off, tell me when it's in your hand."
"Fuck yes!" I put the phone on the bed next to me, reaching down with both hands to my hips. I lay flat on my back and simultaneously ripped the thong off my hips, peeling it away from my soaking vagina. Pulling my legs over me, I slid the panties off my legs and feet. Then, with it in my hand as he asked, I picked up the phone. "Ok, Paul, it's off."
"Good -- are you nude, Stacey?"
"Yeah!" I described, then realized as I looked at my feet, "well, I have little socks on."
"Hot," he muttered, "I love fucking a girl when she still has her socks and shoes on. So is the thong in your hand?"
I looked at the wadded-up flimsy, black wet fabric in my hand. "Yeah, it is baby." Then I looked at my Daddy, who was staring at my exposed naked cunt. I spread wide for him to get a better look.
Paul's next question was out of sequence for me. "Stacey, do you like the flavor of your own juices?"
"Uh, yeah, I do." I had to think about it, weirdly enough. "I lick my fingers all the time."
"Nice. Now, Stacey, I want you to put the thong in your mouth, so I hear you sucking it, you know, sucking the juices out of it." He paused at the weird request, then he said, "Your email said you'd do anything, remember?"
I laughed, and I looked at my Daddy so I knew I had this attention. He shifted his eyes from my vagina to my face, as I said to Paul, "You want me to suck my juices out of my wet thong baby?" I didn't ask for Paul, I asked so Daddy could hear it. Daddy's face didn't change, however, he just stared at me.
"Do it, you slut," Paul commanded, expecting me to resist.
I wasn't about to; it sounded sexy. I mean, licking underwear is kind of sick, right, but hey, I've licked men's assholes, and licked cocks right after they've been in my butt too. I love the flavor of my cunt, which right now was saturated in this thong. So, barely hesitating, I put the phone near my mouth and twirled the thong around until the soaking front panel dropped down. I guided the thong over my face as I laid back flat on my bed, dropping the wet panel to my mouth. I could smell myself in it. The wet fabric touched my tongue; I quickly stuffed the rest of the panel in my mouth and closed my lips on it. Oh, god, it stunk of my sex. I closed my tongue on it too, and I could literally feel juices squishing out of it, filling my mouth. This was so fucking sexy! I'd probably do this myself in the future when I masturbate. I washed the thong's panel around my mouth a little, making sure to taste every drop of sweet cream in it, while I moaned and sucked loudly for Paul to hear on the phone. Daddy too was staring at me, seeing something new in me, which I fucking loved.
Paul's groan over the phone was long and deep, and I thought he'd just orgasmed. But he said instead, "Stacey, oh fuck, how does it taste?"
I answered with my mouth full. "Awesome!" I had to suck it a few more seconds, making sure I had a lot of the juices. Then I pulled it out, panted for air, and put the phone to my mouth again. "I'm so sweet, you should eat my cunt Paul, I'd cum so hard in your mouth!"
He ignored me. "Stacey, look down at your pussy now, tell me what you see, describe it to me?"
I've done this for men all the time, and describing myself to them is a total turn-on. "It's wet and bald, my pink lips are glowing and all wet, and you can see my clitty peaking out of my little hood." I glanced up and Daddy was admiring my vagina too.
"That's hot," he muttered, stroking himself again noisily, "Does your pussy want something in it?"
"Mmm!" Oh how to answer that question. "Paul, baby, my pussy wants your dick so bad, I wish you were here to fuck me so hard baby!" I looked at Daddy again, and I saw how he loved hearing me talk like a slut to other men.
"But," Paul moaned playfully, "I'm not there to fuck it, am I? So Stacey, what are you going to do?"
I wanted to cum so bad, but I wasn't comfortable. I had my feet dangling off my bed, my body pointed at my Daddy; lying back flat, I felt bent backwards. Not good for cumming. So I quickly turned 90 degrees, putting my head on my pillow, and lying back. I spread my legs and put the one nearest my Daddy flat on the bed, to expose myself to my father. Then I couldn't resist any longer, my fingers on my free hand slipped down to my crotch and lightly, gently, touched my aching clitoris. "Ohh fuuuck Paul -- it's sooo fuuucking wet!" My fingertips were sopping in juices from just a little touch.
"What are you going to do to your vagina, Stacey, don't touch it yet," Paul ordered again, breathlessly.
I described exactly what I intended to do. "I'm going to shove my fingers into it, two of them. I'm going to cum so hard so fast, Paul, you have me so turned on!"
"Don't do it yet," came my commands over the phone from afar, "just wait, first, tell me how you'd want me to fuck you the first time we meet?"
Breathing was getting hard, I just wanted to cum. I moaned and whined, sounding like a little schoolgirl whose favorite blankey had just been taken away. "Paul, baby, I have to cum, I'm so fucking horny!"
I glanced up at my Daddy; he was standing up. I seriously thought he'd heard enough of Paul making me wait, and he'd jump on me and do me like I wanted. It wasn't happening, though. Instead, still fully dressed, Daddy quietly walked around to the foot of my bed then climbed into it. I watched passively while Daddy slipped between the wall of my bed and my nude body, laying so that his head was even with my pelvis. He laid on one side, propping his head up with a bent elbow under it, so he could stare down at my vagina. Daddy's eyes were like only 12 inches or so from my pussy; I could feel his hot breaths on me, and I know he could smell me.
Daddy was going to watch me fuck myself, I loved it.
Paul was panting hard too, so I had to beg for his mercy. "Paul, honey, let me touch myself! I'm so fucking hot for you, I wish you could fuck me!" The noises on the phone were growing intense; he was jerking faster and about to cum, I knew it. I forgot for a few moments about my desperation to orgasm, and I put all my effort into his. "Oh baby, I'm spread for you on my back, if you were here, you could lie on me and rub the fat head of your dick on my juicy cunny! Then you could put it against my hole and shove it in me! It's so tight and you'd stretch me open! I'd be squeezing it with my muscles and feeling you fuck me so deep Paul! I'm so much tighter than your wife, I'd be screaming how I love your big dick, I bet she doesn't do that, does she? She doesn't worship your huge penis like sluts like me, I'd be fucking it so --"
Paul screamed, as only a man can do, it was more of a groan mixed with an explosion of air from his body. You could hear him straining as his entire body tensed and that huge tube in his hands pumped sperm up into the air and all over himself. I loved hearing a man cum, it's why I do phonesex. I was making him cum, just li'l ol' me.
Next to me, my father continued to stare at my nude vagina. I had one finger loitering on my clitty while I talked Paul through his climax, not trying to provoke myself. I could see my Daddy's eyes spinning as he watched my little fingertip twirl in circles over my triangular pink hood and rubbing the blunt end of my throbbing clitty.
"Fuck Stacey!" my lover spat over the phone. "Jesus, you bitch, you made me cum so fucking hard!"
"Oh fuck Paul!" It was my turn, I didn't wait a moment, I stiffened my index finger, pushed my hand down, and shoved my finger into myself. I was sopping wet and easily squeezed with minimal effort my entire finger to the knuckles of my hand. "Oh Paul I'm fucking myself!" I winced, pumping my hand in and out, feeling my tightness around my finger. As I pulled my legs backwards to spread open, my one leg came to rest on my father's hips, so we were in contact while I fucked myself. "Paul I have a finger in me, I'm so tight and wet, I wish your dick was in here!"
Paul continued to pant after his cum, but he was a stand-up man, he wasn't hanging up, he was going to take care of me now too. "Fuck yourself you slut, if I were there, I'd put you on your knees and bone you from behind like a cheap whore should be fucked." He gulped, his mouth dry from his energetic cum I guess, before picking up the story. "I'd slam your face into the bed and pull that sexy blonde hair. My cock would be in your stupid cunt and you'd be screaming at me to fuck you. I'd pound you so hard."
"Yes fuck me Paul! Fuck my cunt! I'm your slut!" I couldn't stand it, I slipped a second finger, my middle finger, into my twat with my first finger. Juices were now all over my palm and other fingers, and I felt my drips running over my asscheeks to wet my bedsheets. "Fuck me baby, fuck me Paul you gorgeous cuntfucker! Ohhh fuck YESSS!"
My first orgasm was, well, about a thousand different cums. It hurt, I mean, after all that time and anticipation, my vagina and clitoris were literally sore even as my fingers were still pumping through my cum. Every muscle in my body tensed and felt like it was burning on fire. I had butterflies in my stomach that bordered on nausea. My eyes rolled and jaw dropped. Electricity shot through my limbs and made my nipples small and hard as bullets. I think I screamed, I'm not sure, it was just an unbearable, divine orgasm.
"Uh Paul! Oh fucking shit! Oh fuck!" I was crying now, drawing out the end of my cum, my fingers slowing down. When I cum by myself, I can't help it, I put my other hand on my clit and push a thumb or two fingers into it, it always helps my cum when I do that. I don't do that when a man is in me, but I guess a guy is slamming his body against my clit anyway. I pushed hard on my sizzling hot clitty until the last thrusts and spasms shook through my body, leaving me in a daze. I felt sweat all over my nude body. "Jesus Paul, I came so hard!"
He wasn't saying much for a few seconds, then he laughed. "Stacey you are incredible, are you all wet now?"
"I'm a fucking mess!" I laughed back, and pulled my head up a little to look down at myself. I saw my Daddy admiring my orgasm just as much as I was; I had liquid all over my pussy and thighs, and hand. "I came so much, baby, just think how wet I'll be if you come fuck me for real!"
"Shit, Stacey," he groaned, "I'm stroking my dick again, you've got me hard already, you're amazing. I bet you'd be the best fuck I ever had."
Of that, I didn't really question my abilities. "Oh I bet yeah, Paul, I'd put you on your back and ride your bone all night until you didn't have a drip of cum left for me!"
"Shit, we need to do that sometime." He sniffed, made some ruffling noises, and exhaled. "Fuck, I'm covered in sperm, you bitch. And I'm hard as a horse. Are you still touching your cunt?"
I pulled my knee up so far, it was going to block Daddy's view of my pussy. So, instead, I changed position now, kind of rolling onto my side to face Daddy while I scooted my body up to almost sit on my pillow. This way, as I spread my legs, Daddy was staring at my vagina again, and I could pull my legs as far up as I wanted. My aching hole needed to be stretched as much as possible, and opening my legs wide seemed to help sooth the aching. "Paul, I'm so sore, I want a cock in me so badly, you have no idea, you have no idea baby." I was panting and almost crying, completely ignoring the fact that Daddy's penis was right there on my bed with me. "Fuck Paul, I'm so fucking horny, fuck my brains out baby!"
Daddy shifted wait, sort of lying on his tummy a bit, with his arms folded under his chest to prop up his head. He stared at my cunt, maybe 2 feet in front of him. I found myself gazing at my father's face, his eyes riveted on my fingers inside my pussy. I pulled my legs back even farther for his benefit.
"Do it," spat Paul with an evil tone, "pump those fingers in your slutty cunt you whore, admit it, you're a fucking whore aren't you?"
I smiled, closing my eyes so I wouldn't see my Daddy as I answered. "I'd love to be your whore, Paul, but I'm too horny to be a whore, you could fuck me anytime without paying me!"
He jerked his hardened penis a few times before asking another question. "How many fingers do you have inside yourself baby?"
"Two!" I was thinking about adding a third, but it makes my hand sore; I save that near my orgasms. "I'm still so wet Paul!"
"You horny slut, you horny fucking slut, stuff those fingers in your cunt!" Paul was pumping away himself, panting, I could hear the beating of his strokes, I could visualize him doing himself. I was so wet knowing it. "Put your fingers in your mouth, let me hear you taste your cum you slut!"
Now that was an idea. "Fuck yes!" I quickly removed my two fingers from myself, and stuffed them in my mouth. The phone was touching my hand as I did it. I lapped off the thick juices on my fingers, one by one, making "Mmmmm" sounds as I sucked each one clean. Then I flattened my palm and lapped off the juices pooled on it. I was fucking delicious, my hand was saturated. "Mmm, Paul, it tastes so good!" Between my spread thighs, my smiling father watched quietly as I cleaned my hand off of myself.
"Say Stacey," thought the man on the phone, "do you like getting ass-fucked?"
"Uh huh," I winked at Daddy as I answered my new friend, "I love being fucked up the ass, you'd make me fucking scream!"
"Mmm, good! Now, Stacey, I want you to put your finger in your asshole -- do that for me, okay?"
I've done this before, and it's not particularly the hottest thing, but it's really nasty, isn't it? "Fuck, okay, baby!" I know how to do this. I reached my hand underneath myself, under my butt, my hand popping out over my asshole. I stared at my father, whose eyes of course were turned to the sight of my fingertip over my anus. There was a ton of liquid on my asshole, drained from my vagina, so I didn't need any more lubrication. I swirled my finger on my sensitive butt, my legs twitching, as I reported, "Oh fuck Paul, I'm touching my ass, I'm touching the outside."
"Put your finger in, slut," he hoarsely ordered.
"Yes!" I turned my finger, careful so my long fingernail would not rip my skin around my hole, and I carefully plunged my finger inside my ultra-tight butthole. "Paul I'm fucking my ass!" It was indeed tight, and my buttcheeks tensed from the sudden invasion; but I watched my father's reaction, his eyes were glued to the sight. "Paul I have a finger in my ass, fuck it's so tight!"
"Fuck your butt honey, fuck it for me." Paul was wanking rapidly. "That's my cock up there, fucking your tight teenage butt!"
"Oh Paul!" I had to close my eyes and lean back, so I could reach my hand down farther, my arm was hurting. I felt my finger entering the soft, squishy hole, stretching my butt a bit. "My finger is in my ass, honey, I'm fucking my ass for you!"
My man on the phone was panting deleriously now, grunting as his fist flew up and down his shaft. "You horny bitch, fuck your hot little ass for me!"
His words put ideas in my head. "Paul, I'm fingering my ass, you love my ass don't you? My ass is so much hotter than your wife's! You'd put your tongue in my ass wouldn't you, Paul, you want to tongefuck my tight little ass!" He didn't respond intelligibly, he just grunted more and I heard him breathing hard while his hand stroked his meat, so I spread my legs farther back, stretched my arm down more, and tried to push more finger into my ass. Daddy's face hadn't moved, watching this. "Fuck it, Paul, fuck my ass, put your big dick in my tight ass baby!"
Paul was screaming in the phone now. "Whoa, fuck!" I heard rustling, then his grunting and wincing, and he was jerking his cock incredibly fast, using extreme force. I mean, I thought I heard him ripping his dick off of himself. "You are such a fucking slut you bitch! Spread those asscheeks for me and let me fuck that tight hot ass!"
"Yeah, fuck my ass honey!" In my closed eyes, I pictured myself on my fours, with Paul's hands spreading open my cheeks, and the feeling of his thick erection drilling into my loosened butthole. I loved the feeling after a good ass-fucking by a big dick, when my ass is still all loose and opened. "Make my asshole big for your cock Paul, fuck me and cum in my ass!"
His masculine voice had turned into a young boy's, eager and submissive. "Ooh baby I'm so hard for you, you make me so fucking hard, fuck that tight ass!"
I wanted to cum again, my vagina was on fire, so I pulled my finger out of my ass and put it to my face. "Paul," I announced, my finger stiffened by the phone, "I'm going to suck my finger clean!" And I did, plunging my finger into my mouth, sucking it hard, tasting the unique flavors of my butthole, mixed with my pussyjuice. I sucked my finger clean to the sounds of Paul's moaning, and the admiration of my staring father. Then I put my fingers down to my cunt and said, "Oh fuck Paul, I have to cum again, I have to cum."
I saw the lust in my father's eyes, staring at my pussy and ass, and I thought it was so sweet of him to let me play with this man on the phone while he sat there and ached. So, without any warning, I just bolted upright on my bed and spun around, then lowered myself onto my back in the opposite direction on my bed. My back came to rest on my father's raised hips, his legs to one side of me, his torso and head on the other side, as he lay on his side behind me. He didn't move but let me get comfortable; I leaned back into him, put the phone to my ear on the side of Daddy's legs, and I spread my legs open again. Daddy now could watch me touch my vagina but also feel my motions as I leaned against him.
I drilled two fingers into my waiting wet twat, and I screamed in pleasure. "Oh fucking shit Paul! I'm fucking myself! Fuck me with your big dick baby!" My hand was immediately pumping hard, ramming those fingers deep into me, pulling out only to ram back in furiously again. My thumb passed near my clit which I stroked as I could, each thrust trying to bust farther into my tightened, aching pussy. I thrust my pelvis up to meet my hand, fucking myself, making my arm hurt from the intense pressure I was generating. "I'm fucking cumming Paul! Your little slut is coming!"
It didn't take much after ass-fucking myself now to cum hard. The second orgasm wasn't the erotic adventure of the first, but it was delicious; it felt like a fire enveloping me, wrapping me, and turning me over and over. My pussy muscles spasmed and squeezed my fingers hard, while my head fell back on my father's hips and my hair spilled all around him and me. I felt liquid seeping out and covering my hand again, cascading over my soft little buttocks. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Ohhhh fuuuck yessss!" My words slurred as the orgasm drained out of me, bit by precious bit.
Behind me, on my spine, I felt it. Daddy's IT. He wasn't really moving, but my motions had carried my back to his dick. It was as hard as I'd ever felt it, even with layers of his clothing covering it.
"Fuck me Paul!" I was screaming to the man on the phone, but I was fucking my Daddy now. I spun again, turning 90 degrees, my feet up towards my father's face. I laid on my side now, my back to my Daddy. I was positioned so that my naked ass was right over my father's hard crotch; the swollen shape of his penis slipped easily into my soft little buttcrack. As I laid back, Daddy's leg was under my neck and head, a hard little pillow. I spread wide open so Daddy could look down and see his daughter's wet cummy vagina and butthole, while I was still working on it.
Now I was masturbating my Daddy while I did myself too; I gyrated my butt in circles over his penis,rubbing it into him, with my fingers stuffed into my pussy to make myself cum more. "Paul, I'm picturing your naked body over mine, I'm holding you while you pound your big dick into my tight twat! Fuck me so hard Paul! I'd want you to cum in me!"
"Yeah?" Paul sounded genuinely surprised, but his words were strained, he was working his dick so hard. "You like men to cum in your pussy huh?"
I know it sounded slutty; it all depends, you know. Married man who don't cheat alot, I figure, aren't going to be diseased; another advantage of helping men cheat on their wives. "Yeah, make me your slut, cum up my pussy you stud! Fill me with your cream! Fuck me with that big hard dick Paul!"
My fingers pushed as deep into my vagina as I could reach, stretching my hole so wide. I wanted it all; I shoved a third finger into myself, with my Daddy proudly watching. But instantly that wasn't enough. I pulled my hand out and squeezed all four fingers together; then, with them pointed like a cone, I shoved them in. Daddy watched as his darling little princess took her own four fingers into her vagina. I wanted it all, I wanted my fist and arm inside myself. I'd never fisted myself, but I've seen pictures, you know. I pushed harder, and harder, and I was only about two-knuckles deep. I mean, I was too tight for my fist I guess. But I screamed to Paul: "Paul baby, I have four fingers in me, I'm trying to put them all in, I want them all!"
He snorted while fucking himself. "Fuck, you slut! Fist yourself! That's as thick as my dick, pretend that's my dick fucking you!"
I was in heaven, lying back, trying to push my whole hand into my vagina, while under my ass Daddy's cock pressed into me upside-down. I mean, I felt his soft balls against the top of my ass. I loved that feeling, ramming back into him while I humped my hand. I was screaming into the phone at the top of my lungs. "Fuck me Paul, I want you to fuck me! Fuck me, make me your slut!"
"Oh shit you slut!" Paul almost gulped in the words, I could hear him cumming again.
Knowing he was having his second orgasm on the phone with me brought out yet another of my cums too; we climaxed together, both of us screaming while our bodies exploded with energy. And, sticking four fingers into my vagina, I felt a warm and tension in my pussy I hadn't had in a while. My instinct was to press my hand against it, try to feed the monster, make my fingers fill me as much as possible. I didn't realize it, but I was doing it. My hole hand was fucking slipping inside myself! I suddenly felt my knuckles lining the back of my hand against my pussylips; and my whole arm ached like someone chopped it off. "Fuck Paul!" I was just screaming for the sake of it. I had my four fingers entirely in me, fucking shit! Daddy was getting a perfect view of it, while his cock rubbed under my ass. I winced from incredible pain, never realizing this pressure inside my pussy before. But I didn't stop, I just pushed my hand in farther, and farther, and what the fuck --
I had my hand in my cunt up to my wrist! MY WRIST!
"Oh fuck Paul! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" I couldn't move my hand; it was just jammed in there. Tight wasn't the right word; surgically implanted would be more like it. I had this fleeting image I'd never be able to get it out, they'd have to amputate it or something. My body was bent in half, my entire pelvis ached, I thought maybe I'd forever altered the shape of my body or something, like passing a baby you know. And under my ass, I felt Daddy's cock cumming; he was squirting his semen into his underwear, having an orgasm in his pants. I was making Daddy cum in his clothing.
Orgasms were now bursting out of my pussy. Little mini-cums, ones that make me light-headed, one after another. My hand still wasn't moving, just shoved in there so deep. Juices were flowing down to my elbow. My elbow! "Fuuuck Paulll, fuuuck meee!" The words were just coming out on automatic. I was falling into an endlessly orgasmic state from this self-fisting job. "I'm cumming, oh Paul, I'm cumming again, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I'm so fucking horny for you!"
I wasn't sure what I heard on the phone; whether he was even still really listening I don't know. I smelled Daddy's orgasm, that hot manly smell, and his cock's motions under my ass slowed. I had my fist in me probably, I don't know, five minutes? Maybe? It seemed like a long fucking time. It got to the point where I was fearful of pulling it out; and when I tried, it didn't really move. "Oh fuck Paul!" I was screaming in horror now, but just once. I yanked back with my elbow, and POP -- holy fucking shit -- my hand just squirted out of my vagina.
I ached, I mean, my vagina was like, FUCK, don't touch me. Ever again.
I fell back on the bed, the phone somewhere maybe near my head, gasping for air, my nose stuffy with mucus, my mouth dry, my legs sore, my arm feeling broken. My hand was just, well, drenched is a word. My pussy hurt, oh I said that. It hurt. "Fuck, oh jesus, oh fuck!" I tried to get my breathing down first, then I snorted the mucus in my nose back into my head, and I cleared my throat out. I was sweating in buckets, from under every pore. My pelvis was a soppy mess, like the bedsheet under me.
Picking up the phone, I held it to my ear. Dial tone. I don't know if I disconnected the jerk, or if he hung up. I didn't care.
Lying back limp and lifeless on my bed, suddenly a presence was above me. Daddy, crawling over me. I felt his warmth, smelled his cologne, and his shadow covered my eyes. His hands brushed my matted hair out of my face, stroking me, and his warm soft lips touched my perspiry forehead. "Darling, baby," he soothed warmly, kissing around my face, my nose and chin, "you're incredible."
"Oh Daddy!" I tried to reach up to him, but my arm wasn't moving; so I just curled into his comforting presence. His arms encircled me, wrapping me in his love, and I even began to cry in his chest. I have no idea why, I just did. I felt like it; female perogative, okay?
Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, the swelling feeling in my vagina had turned into the normal post-sex glowing, and I even regained feeling in my hand. "Daddy, that was fucking fun," were my first words, along with a chuckle.
My loving sexy father grinned down at me, then pulled himself off of me. I watched silently as he stood on my floor, and he removed his clothing. All of it, socks to shirt and everything in between. His penis was still hard, but covered in his messy sperm. Then Daddy reached to the floor, retrieving his underwear, which he showed me. "You made me cum in my pants, darling," he giggled, "and I hear you like the flavor of cummy underwear?"
I couldn't believe it, but Daddy was sticking his messy wet underwear to my mouth. I also couldn't believe I stuck my tongue out, tasting his familiar sperm, licking it from the wet fabric. As I licked I smiled up at him, and he back at me.
"How sore are you?" he asked warmly.
I shrugged, then noticed his penis. Shit, I love my Daddy's penis. I love to love it; and it loves me too. It fills me and feeds me, I always give into my Daddy's dick. As many men as I fuck, I always return home to fuck it. I'm my Daddy's lover, and I spread dutifully for him anytime he's home and hard. I've missed dates to fuck him. I've skipped school (last year) to fuck him. We fucked at a family reunion with my grandparents and cousins downstairs. I even begged my best friend to fuck him, just to make him happy; I told you about that. (Not that Antoinette needed all that much encouragement, and for the record, I know she liked it because since that first time with me there, she has spent nights at my house with Daddy when I was on overnight dates myself.)
So, staring at Daddy's hard erection, I rolled flat on my back and pulled up my sore, aching legs. "Daddy, cum fuck me, please," I moaned, exposing my vagina to him. "Give me what I really want."
He crawled onto "my" bed, his penis pointing right at me. "So Stacey, what about this new guy Charlie, going to make a date and fuck him on it?"
I giggled, nodding as I reached down to Daddy's dick. Guiding it towards my pussy, I purred softly for my father, "Daddy, I would love to meet him and let him stick his big penis into me -- but I promise when I get home you can fuck me too!"
And, as my father's cock penetrated my sore pussy for the first time of many times that night, I blurted out my most honest feelings of all. "Daddy I love you so much -- fuck me hard Daddy!"