“Mmmm….Can I cum Daddy. I’m ssssoooooo close,” I begged.
I wanted his permission, but I didn’t think I could hold out much longer. Just the feel of my fingers on my labia was making my clit twitch in anticipation. It was getting to the point where I wouldn’t need to touch my joy-button to get over the top.
“Not yet. I want to admire that pretty pussy of yours for a few more seconds.”
“MMmmmm…it’s not my pretty pussy, Daddy…this is YOUR pussy now,” I flirted back, loving his compliment that my little girl parts were pretty. I left off my tit-rubbing and nipple-pinching and reached both my hands down to spread my lips so he could see all along my drenched pink crease. I was embarrassed at how wet I was, but also totally turned on.
“My pussy? Will it still be my pussy when I take a belt to it rather than go down on it or fuck it?”
His words almost put me over the top right there, as I ran a finger along my slit but was careful not to get anywhere near my clit. He was so sexy in his authority and veiled threats of pussy punishment.
“I AM scared of you punishing my pussy Daddy. But it IS your pussy from here on out. Will you train me in a way I can handle it? You won’t reject me if it takes me a while to learn how to handle pussy-punishment from you, will you? Please Daddy, please help me be a good little sex-kitten for you while you train my pussy, Daddy. Please.”
Weeks of spying on him and flirting with him helped me respond to his dirty-talk conversation. I knew he was interested in sexual punishment just as much as sexual dominance. But underneath I also knew he was a decent guy and I did not think he’d ever go overboard.
At least I HOPED he wouldn’t.
As a too-experienced slut around town with an unfortunate reputation amongst my own crowd, having made lots of bad decisions in my short life, but with a new chance with a new guy who didn’t necessarily know about my past, I was determined to take any small amount of bad (including some pussy punishment and spanking) with what I hoped was a lot of good.
He didn’t respond, but scooted forward on the club chair, leaned over, and pushed the back of his hand, all four fingers, against my pussy, his knuckles brushing my clit, his index finger slipping inside my sopping gash.
I cried out in pleasure as his strong fingers replaced mine and I moved my own hands up to my tits to squeeze my half-globes and gently pinch my nipples. He rubbed up a bit, his knuckle moved along my clit.
I came immediately at the combination of his touch to my sex and to my clit, while I played with my boobs. My resistance to climax in my last few minutes of edging for him was immediately overpowered and defeated by the transition from urgent edging to strong male touch.
I lifted my legs involuntarily, pulling them back, shocked at the strength of my orgasm, worried that I’d be overloaded as he continued to push his hand against my sex and inflame my pussy with pleasure. I squeezed my legs together trapping his hand between my thighs and against my sex, cumming again immediately, the feeling so pleasurable to have my pussy covered by his rough hands, trapped between my closed legs, cumming like a helpless slut. His hand shifted inside my closed legs, he caught my clit between two knuckles and pressed together, and I came again in a helpless, pavlovian, response, ripping a climax out of me easily, like I was a fantasy girl that existed only in the male mind that could cum on command to the slightest attention or touch.
I had woken up, read his note, showered and pampered myself, made him a sandwich like a good little 50’s housewife should. I had sucked his cock, sheened with sweat and the scents from the yard while he enjoyed his sandwich while I sucked and then enjoyed my oral attention after he was full. I had taken his cum and showed it to him, played with it, and swallowed it for him. He had rewarded me by breaking off his date with that shameless hussy who was going after him as hard as I was going after him.
But he had put me in my place by letting me know that he had been putting me off on purpose and playing coy while he showed me that he had the goods to get another girl — and thereby increasing my attraction to him, as well as my desperation. The act of him methodically seducing this other girl had made me crazy to get him myself.
And he had further put me in my place by making me worship his balls while he educated me on what the real situation was!!!
And after all that, he had put me on my back and made me put on a self-touching show for him, naked and young, displaying my turned-on and inflamed pussy. And I had been so turned on that, unprompted, I had volunteered to go from calling him Mr. M to calling him Daddy, and had offered up ownership of my pussy to him for his control and keeping, ceding my sexual identity to him.
That act and offer by me had gotten him to lean forward and put the back of his hand against my sex and take me to orgasm with just a touch, a pressing down on my opened up inner pink regions, and the barest brushing of my clit, without any foreplay or fucking, other than the foreplay of servicing him, and being mind-fucked by him, and dirty-talking with him, and then touching myself for him.
Without request, I had held off my orgasm, not wanting to cum without his permission, edging myself, but not cumming, not without his permission and approval. My body was his to allow me a climax, not mine.
And he had not let me cum myself. He had finished me off personally, turning me into a moaning, shuddering, leaking mess of a twenty-something-climaxing girl.
Later on that evening, Daddy ravished me again. He tied my hands above my head to a discreetly placed lamp hook in the middle of the spare bedroom that he used as an office and teased me and tormented me, touched me, violated me, and even used a belt on me until I was a begging, turned-on evening mess of a girl instead of an afternoon mess.
And when he was done with dominating me while I was strung up to the ceiling, he unhooked me and took me to his bed and violated me all over again in my mouth and my pussy with his big hard dick and his dominant views on what a woman can do for a man…
And I can write another several pages about all of that, but I won’t, because the most important part of the day was getting the note to make a sandwich and give him a blowjob, like a good 50’s housewife should, and then getting educated by him as he broke the date with the other girl while I worshipped his balls, and found out during that education just how much he knew about what was going on, how much he might have been controlling the game that I thought I was in charge of, and how many options he had.
I drifted off to sleep for the second time in his bed rather than his daughter’s bed feeling that I was very close to my goal — a kept and submissive woman for a dominant and deserving man, but a man who had been silently stalking me, even as I had been urging him to begin a chase, but a man who had held off the final leap until I was more convinced than ever that I wanted to be his prey and wanted my pussy to belong to him rather than belong to me.