Something that I’m very skilled at doing, sucking cock, wouldn’t he be surprised that someone my young age mastered the skill of cocksucking. I imagined stroking his prick while sucking his prick. I imagined him cumming in my mouth and all over my face. I imagined him giving me a cum bath. Making me feel loved and sexually wanted, I loved it when men ejaculated in my mouth and all over my face. I loved receiving cum baths.
# # #
It was late, well after midnight and he offered me a ride home. Instead of declining his offer to drive me home, taking a cab, or calling one of my brothers for a ride home, instead, when I saw his car, I couldn’t say no to accepting his offer for a ride. He had a shiny new, 1990, gold, Rolls Royce, Silver Spur convertible.
‘Wow! Look at this car,’ I thought. ‘It’s beautiful. It’s sexy. It’s classy. Imagining arriving in this automobile in style for dinner, in Sidney Poitier’s words in the movie, “Guess who’s coming to dinner, Guess who’s coming to dinner?”
Having never even seen one up close, I had never been in a Rolls Royce before. To be chauffeured home in a Rolls Royce was a dream come true and a chance of a lifetime. How could I say no to that? Who could say no to that? I couldn’t.
When we drove by my house and continued going, I saw my mother, Natty, peeking out the living room window. She had her share of luxury transportation over the years. With her an ex-stripper, an ex-prostitute, and an all-around whore, she’s been transported in limousines, private jets, and aboard yachts going from this exclusive, private party to that exclusive, private party.
Honestly, I was excited about being driven home in a Rolls Royce. I couldn’t wait to tell my four, much older brothers, Freddie, the twins, Vito and Guido, and Big Louie, all car buffs, that I had a ride in a Rolls Royce, Silver Spur convertible. My mother had her four of her five children by four, different men. With her having sexual intercourse with my brothers before I was born, and with me an accident of birth, I suspected that one of my brothers was my father.
‘How fucked up is that,’ I thought?
# # #
Before I was born, they all worked for Ford in Detroit, where they’re originally from before moving to Boston. Even though they were Mustang fanatics and all owned new Mustangs, they loved Rolls Royce’s. Who doesn’t? A handmade, one-of-a-kind automobile, what car buff wouldn’t love to own a custom made, one-of-a-kind, Rolls Royce?
Suddenly, I felt like Daisy Buchanan in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel, The Great Gatsby, being whisked away in such a fine, luxury, handmade motorcar. Giving me his undivided attention, he made me feel so special. He made me feel like a princess.
Something that I knew I’d never be, he made me feel rich. I felt like Michelle Dockery as Lady Mary Crawley in Downton Abbey. I felt like Cinderella and his Rolls Royce was my glass slipper. Not knowing anyone rich, I couldn’t wait to tell my friends that the man that I met at my high school graduation party was rich.
# # #
Instead of going straight home, we stopped to look at the stars. Clearly, with me his star, he stared more at me than he looked up at the stars. Instead of just looking up at sparkling lights that were billions of miles away, he pointed out specific ones and told me their names. It was a magical, romantic night and, having never met anyone like him, I was enthralled with him.
Unfortunately, with me having had too much champagne to drink, I was drunk. I was his easy victim for him to do whatever he wanted to do to my naked, virginal body. What he wanted to do was to strip me naked and have sexual intercourse with me. What he wanted to do was to make love to me before fucking me.
Call it convoluted or wishful thinking but I continued thinking of him as my dad. No doubt, he continued thinking of me as his daughter. With him thirty-years older than me, I felt as if I was having incestuous sex with my father. Once again, no doubt, he felt that he was having incestuous sex with his daughter.
Whether imagined or real, father and daughter sex doesn’t get much better than that. Wicked for me to admit but, totally enamored with him now, I’d have sex with him even if he was my dad. At the very least, I’d suck his cock. I’d give him a blowjob and allow him to cum in my mouth. Then, unable to help myself, I’d allow him to cum all over my face. I’d allow him to give me, his young whore, a cum bath.
“We’ll be more comfortable in the backseat. I’ll put the top down so that we can look at the stars,” I remember him saying that as his excuse to get me in the backseat, to strip me naked, and to fuck me.
# # #
Once in the backseat, as if he was Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde, he touched and felt me everywhere through my clothes while kissing me, French kissing me. Too drunk to resist, I allowed him to sexually do whatever he wanted to do to me. He moved his hand inside my blouse and felt my breasts through my bra. Then, he moved his other hand beneath my short skirt and cupped my pussy through my white, bikini panties and reached around me to feel my panty clad ass.
Not stopping there, he had one hand inside of my bra cupping my big, naked tit and fingering my erect nipple. His other hand was buried in my panties rubbing my clit and finger fucking my pussy. He was masturbating me. Living out my sexual fantasy, my imagined dad was masturbating me. I couldn’t believe my imagined dad was masturbating me.
Using me and sexually abusing me, he made me feel like such a slut and that made me feel so hot. If he had been anyone else, a man my age, I may have resisted him. Yet, there was something irresistible about him.
I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to feel me. I allowed him to strip me naked. I wanted him to see me naked. I wanted him to make love to me. I wanted him to fuck me.
Nonetheless, having just met the man and allowing him to have his wicked, sexual way with my naked body, he made me feel powerless to stop him. Feeling how my mother must have felt when having sex for money, he made me feel like such a whore. Yet, ready to give myself to him, he made me so wet. Having never had sexual intercourse with anyone before, a virgin, but not wanting to be a virgin anymore, I wanted him to fuck me.
Something I’ve grown accustomed to with men my age, waiting for it, I expected him to unzip himself and pull out his prick. I expected him to put a heavy hand to the back of my blonde, pretty head and push my head down and forward. Having had men do that to me many times before, I expected him to stick his erect prick in my mouth and force me to blow him. I expected him to want to cum in my mouth and watch me swallow his cum.
When he didn’t force me to suck him, I was surprised. I was drunk and I wouldn’t have resisted giving him a hand job and/or a blowjob. Definitely, I would have blown him. I would have allowed him to cum in my mouth and watched me swallow his cum. Accustomed to giving hand jobs and blowjobs, all the men my age wanted me to suck them. All men my age wanted to cum in my mouth while they fondled my naked tits and pulled, turned, and twisted my erect nipples.