tagErotic CouplingsKristen Finally Fucks Daddy Pt. 04

Kristen Finally Fucks Daddy Pt. 04

byNonStopFunGuy©

I do really stupid, stupid things when I'm fucking horny. I've learned that about myself. It's just the way I am.

This might be -- no, definitely is -- the single stupidest thing I did just because my 18 year old pussy wanted to get fucked by an adult cock.

I guess I'm not ashamed I did it, because, well, sometimes you just have to get laid, right? Doesn't matter who, or even how good it is; you just need a cock.

* * * *

About 24 four hours after begging for sex from the man of my dreams and being told "No," I was a fucked up mess. He wanted me, he told me he did; his huge erection was throbbingly hard, he pressed it against my naked ass, he was about to jam it up my sopping wet, tight half-Asian pussy. But, he didn't. He said "we can't." He ran out of the room. We came that close to fucking, to having my fantasies fulfilled, but it didn't happen. Nope. Not gonna, he said.

That, you know, really fucks with a horny, naive 18 year old.

I'm a great student, I am in the Science and the Math clubs, and the Chess club, I'm one of those prissy petite Asian girls around school that nobody really notices except the smart kids, who are my friends. I don't get tons of male attention; I date a teen boy with acne all down his back, and a small dick that doesn't last long in bed. So when I need my lust for big cock satisfied, but it isn't, it's rejected, I can't help but doubt my self-worth. I began to question everything immediately. Maybe I was a lousy human being; maybe the world would be better off without me?

The next morning at school, I fucked up a Spanish test. I forgot my class schedule about ten times (basically, before every class). I pissed off my boyfriend, and I didn't care, I more or less told him if I never saw him again, I'd be happier for it. I might have meant it, I'm not sure. I wasn't myself. I had this pain in my stomach that I couldn't get rid of, I just wanted to crawl under a rock and no one to bother me.

I blew off Science club for the second week in a row, leaving immediately after classes ended, walking home in a desponent downpour. The fact it was drizzling on a gray day only made me think Mother Nature shared my gloomy feelings. I didn't really want to go home, because I'd be stuck in the house with my Daddy in the basement, and I just couldn't face him today. I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do, but I didn't want to be home. As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I grabbed the car keys, yelled down to his home office in the basement that I was driving somewhere, and I just left. Just drove off, not sure where to go.

As the car splashed through puddles of dirty water, only one thought was on my mind.

I wanted to get fucked so badly, I felt that big hard cock against my small naked ass the day before and I just had to have something like that fuck my pussy. I turned 18 a month ago, I was ready for it. Teenage dicks weren't interesting to me anymore.

The slut in me was coming out, and the slut wanted a MAN.

Lots of people have told me, don't do stupid things when you're horny. I never really thought, with my grades, I'd be susceptible to that problem. Well, so much for that. Driving around, my pussy wanting cock, my emotions all in a rage, I found myself wondering who would give me what I needed.

Stunningly, only one thing came to mind. One person. I about threw up as I first thought about it, but, it made so much sense. And I knew I could do it.

Guaranteed fuck from an adult male, that's what I wanted, and I went for it. Stupid me.

I drove right to the Dalebrook Shopping Mall -- that's where my Mom's lingerie shop is located. She fucking lived at that store, using her business as the excuse to avoid Daddy and me, we never saw her until late at night, usually around midnight. That's the store I had in mind. The mall had empty parking spots near the entrance closest to my Mom's shop. I knew my Mom's schedule pretty well. It was Tuesday, she would be downtown that afternoon at the corporate headquarters, going over financial shit and stuff, she did it every other Tuesday. The point is, she wouldn't be at her store that afternoon, I didn't think.

Mom wouldn't be at the store, but her business partner -- and her boyfriend slash lover, David -- would be there. Oh yes, if Mom wasn't watching the store, he probably would be. He's a pervert, he liked to hang out with the younger female sales associates.

David's adult blue eyes were riveted directly in the direction of my skimpy bikini top, making me feel almost naked and embarrassed. It was this past summer at a pool party at David's big mansion, across town. He was having a summer party for a lot of his business colleagues and clients and shit, so Mom dragged Daddy and me to it. I was in a pretty but not slutty bikini, which had triangular patches covering my two smallish tits, and a bikini bottom that snugly fit against my small ass. David, holding a drink, had his fleshy belly pouring out of his shorts. He wasn't like sicko-fat, but he needed to lose 40 or so pounds to even look fit, and if he lost 50 or 60, it wouldn't kill him. Maybe to some girls that is sicko-fat, I don't know. He had a secure, confident air about himself, talking smoothly and quietly, he was no loud-mouth and he wasn't lecherous or perverted. He was just an older guy to me, that's all. So standing in the hot sun in front of him, while he was talking to me but staring at my tits, was a unique feeling. It was not a turn-on, but, it made me feel older, more mature. I definitely was flirting with him, to be nice, and enjoying his attention. But the flirting might have gone a little too far, because we started talking about me modeling swimsuits or "other stuff" (remember, David and Mom sell lingerie; slutty lingerie, at that). He said I could come to his house and try things on, and do some practice modeling, if I wanted. When the conversation got to that point, I freaked and balked, I wasn't going to do that with him.

Yeah, David basically wanted me to come back to his house and wear lingerie in front of him. That kinda meant to me, he wanted to fuck me.

So I was remembering that. But . . . here is the memory I really was thinking about.

Last week, to the day. I came home early. Daddy wasn't home, I thought I was alone. No, I wasn't, I heard voices downstairs. I took a look. My Mom was on the sofa, making out with David. My fucking slutty mother, cheating on my wonderful, sexy Daddy! I couldn't stop watching. My Mom took out her big fake D-cup tits, stripped naked and climbed her petite Thai body onto David, and rode the guy's hard adult prick. He wasn't nearly as big as Daddy, he was barely longer than my boyfriend -- but, well, he had a thick cock. Definitely a fat one. And although he was fat with a big belly and pale white ass, he fucked the shit out of my Mom. Made her cum a ton of times, she was crying and screaming for it, she loved fucking him. I stared at it, not able to pull away, horny as shit, then I masturbated later having seen what a hard fuck David gave my Mom.

In the midst of that adulterous sex in our family basement, David admitted to my Mom that he wanted to fuck me. Me! My Mom thought it was cute, or something, I don't know. She didn't set me up for a date with him. But she didn't yell at him either; she just kept fucking him.

David would fuck me, I was sure of it. I didn't find him attractive at all . . . but, boy, Mom sure had a good fuck with him. Wow.

That was why I came there, walking past the store. Only I was lying to myself, telling myself no, I really wasn't there to fuck him, I had another reason to be there. Here's what I told myself: Wouldn't a strawberry-kiwi smoothie do the trick, make me feel better?

See, there's a smoothie shop about two doors down from Mom's lingerie shop. I was hungry, I like smoothies . . . Mom wasn't there today . . . sure, Kristen, go get a smoothie, that's all you're doing. No big deal.

A few minutes later, as I took the first few sips of the smoothie stepping away from the counter and about to walk past my Mom's lingerie shop back to my car, I had those fantasies again. My little lie to myself that I wanted a smoothie had now placed me right in front of the lingerie store . . . where my Mom was not working today . . . but, I guessed, David was probably in the store right now, wasn't he.

"Oh, nothin', really," I sighed to David, as I sipped the straw of my smoothie, leaning casually against the door frame of the office in the back of the store facing him behind the desk, answering his friendly inquiry. I tried to look calm and not the bundle of raging teenage hormones that I was. David looked like he always did; he still needed to lose that baggage around his waist and hips, his receding hairline and graying temples were crap compared to my Daddy's thick, dark brown hair; and he slumped back in his chair giving this impression that, well, he wasn't a very impressive.

I gave David a cute smile, looking over my shoulder to make sure the couple of sales girls were not nearby. I was relieved to find that I was right, and that my Mom was not there; if she had been in the office, I had no excuse for coming to see her.

The forty-something male looked me over, automatically checking out my petite body and slender legs in my tight jeans and blouse. He then grinned appreciatively at my face. "Your mom's not here," he informed me of something I already figured out, "she'll be back, I don't know, in a couple of hours -- she's at the franchisor's office downtown."

"Oh." I took another sip of the smoothie, pretending to care, but I was really thinking to myself that the smoothie was not helping my stomach whatsoever. So I put the cup down and looked around again, and lowered my voice to a hush. I blinked at his eyes to make sure I had all of his attention, which gave me encouragement to continue. "Are you busy, like, real busy?"

When a pretty high school senior -- even a petite, half-Asian one -- asks an adult man if he's busy, the answer will always be "No." Every time. "No," he said, and whether he was being honest or not I'll never find out. "Here, sit, come in . . . so nice to see you, your mother always says such nice things about you. And," he added smugly, giving me a wink, "you're even more pretty than your mom, aren't you?"

I shrugged, never knowing how much of that was bullshit, but thanked him anyway. Nerves were taking me over, making me think I needed to leave. I mean, part of me hated this disgusting creep for fucking my Mom in OUR family basement, helping her cheat on my wonderful Daddy. But another part of me -- the horny slut in me -- had the remote. Leaning against his doorway, not sure how to being, I asked him what he was working on, but I didn't really hear his answer. He asked why I dropped by, and I said -- somewhat honestly -- I was bored, and hadn't been to the store in ages, and I just wanted the smoothie anyway . . . "and one thing led to another and here I am." I blushed, smiling pathetically, and he bought it completely, thanking out loud his luck for bringing me to him that day.

We bantered, and as I should have expected, it turned out David started hitting on me -- not the other way around. In a way, that made things easier on me. He asked me about my senior year at the high school, and if I had a boyfriend, and if I was hungry and wanted to grab dinner. He asked in a very friendly, detached way, as if he'd be doing me a favor. But he wasn't the first male to ever ask me to dinner, so I knew he was asking for a date. Maybe I should have been really angry at him, because he was trying to fuck me when he was already fucking my Mom. What kind of guy does that?

A guy who can fuck good, I told myself. That's what I wanted.

Slipping a bit closer to his desk, I really lowered my voice, knowing this was sort of the moment I had come for, and thus was dreading. "Actually," I moaned softly, "I came to ask you something."

He again pointed at the empty chair in front of his desk, but I still didn't sit in it. Instead, I walked to the side of his desk, only a couple of feet from him, leaning my hip against it and looking down at him -- even though I'm short, he was sitting back on his chair. I took a breath and continued. "So, like . . . remember this summer, at the pool party at your house, you and I were talkign about, like, modeling for the store?"

David nodded, but blankly as if he didn't remember. "Um, sure, yeah?" I think the topic sounded good to him, even if the specifics escaped his memory.

I could sense his momentary confusion, so I asked another question. "Well, like, I was wondering . . . so, where do you get models for the pictures of your stuff here?"

The jerk was about to answer honestly, but he paused, and shrugged. "Oh, all over -- depends on what we're doing. Modeling agencies." He was looking at me pretty intently, studying my face to see what my motivations might be. "But, I guess we're always looking for new girls, pretty girls -- like you -- who might be interested. Is that why you ask?" With his voice rising and a little anxious, I could tell his question was wishful thinking. He added to his pitch, "I've always told your mom, you know, Kristen's really pretty, would look -- you know -- would make our stuff look really pretty, she should let you try some modeling."

He wished that would come true, didn't he? I suppose I was there to grant his wish. "Well, you asked me that at the pool . . . and, honestly, I still think about it, but, I don't know if I'd be pretty enough. Or," I added with a sly grin, "if I'd look good enough in, you know, in some of this stuff." Again, the euphemism of the word "stuff"; I meant, really, the slutty lingerie that shows a girl's tits and cunt.

The horny adult male immediately assured me with an adoring smile and a wave of his hand towards my petite frame. "Oh, Kristen, there's no question, I mean, you're beautiful, you're really -- I mean, I hope you don't mind me saying, I'm a friend of your mother's and all, but just as a businessman, I mean, looking for models -- you're really sexy, I bet you'd look great in something we have." Then, after a pause, he added what he was really thinking. "Of course, you know, we'd probably want to -- I mean, just as someone who'd decide who to hire for the pictures, I suppose, we'd probably want to see what you look like, you know, in something."

"Mmm, yeah?" I giggled really nervously, blushing, although I was assuming he'd ask me. Still, as the moment came, I was doubly nervous. "I mean, you don't think it would be weird? I just -- I'd just really like to -- you know, find out, if I could do it." I was facing him now, my hip still against the side of his desk, my hard nipples making barely-visible bumps through my bra and shirt. I wondered if he could smell how wet I was in my panties.

He nodded as if I was making a good suggestion. "I guess we could schedule something -- I could ask your Mom if you want, or," he offered with a raised eyebrow and extra enthusiasm, "we could just surprise her, if we end up taking pictures -- that might be kind of a nice surprise."

Naturally, I knew he didn't want my Mom to ever find out. I told him, actually behind honest, "Oh, I don't know if she'd want me to do it." He and I shared a knowing smile, because we both knew my Mom. "But, I'm 18 -- I can do what I want." A second went by and I couldn't resist continuing the thought: "Doing anything I want, you know?" I leaned my hand down to his desk, closer to him.

The married jerk was nodding, stunned I was there basically saying I want to wear lingerie in front of him. This was too fucking easy. He looked past me into the store, then played coy and shrugged. "Yes, you're certainly old enough -- you're a beautiful young woman, Kristen, incredibly beautiful. So -- well, do you want to come over to my house sometime, maybe later this week, and we can, um, you know, see what you'd like to wear?"

I bit my lip, I wasn't trying to make plans for later that week. "If you want," I sighed, "but, I'm kind of busy this week -- but if you are too busy, I mean, I understand."

Whatever he was doing when I walked into his office, it was now irrelevant. "No, no, not at all," he coughed, nervously looking into the store again. "If you want -- I mean, I don't want to be pushy, but, if you have some time, sure, but -- I can't leave the store, you know, but um -- but if you have some time now --?" His blue eyes looked at me, hoping I was there to strip for him.

My vagina was in complete control of my thoughts, I was fully aware of my aching hard nipples and drenched pussy and the thought that this man wanted me was the very reason I was standing there. The fact I wasn't into him at all seemed secondary. "Um, yeah," I grinned softly, very nervously, "I don't want to, like, interrupt you or anything, it's not important--"

"No, no!" he protested again, seizing the opportunity. He jumped up, standing about a foot taller than me now, his hand on my small shoulder pushing me aside for a second. "Here, let me just -- let me be back in a second." With that he slipped past me, walking with a purpose into the store, straight to one of the sales girls behind the counter. I saw him talking to her, waiving towards the officce, telling her something. She looked at me in the and giggled, and nodded to him with a playful grin. Suddenly, I wondered what the fuck had he told her.

As he walked back into the office to join me, he reached to shut his door while explaining the rouse. "I told her, you were here to plan your Mom's surprise party," he laughed, locking the door with a click. "I suppose that's what it is, right?"

Okay, I was now in this small, disheveled, paper- and box-filled office with a forty-something married man who was fucking my mom, and I was now really doubting what I was doing there. But, I was horny and, you know, I wasn't going to budge.

David paused, wondering what to do, then standing in front of the door -- as if blocking me from leaving -- he asked almost apologetically, "So, I should get you something to model -- unless you are wearing something now, you want to, I mean, could just wear and pretend to model?"

Fuck, he was asking me to strip and show him my bra and panties. Honestly, I didnt get dressed that morning expecting to seduce an adult man -- I only had a boring white, padded bra and even more boring white cotton panties. I must have blushed, and he saw my reaction. "Well, here --" He looked around the office, stepping into the darkened storage room to the side, and returned a minute later -- a very, very long minute, let me tell you -- with a handful of black, lacy material. "Here." He ripped the tags off the two garments, a black French-cut bikini panty with frilly lace at the edges, and a matching black front-hook bra. "These should fit you -- you're about, what, a 30A?" Well, the man knew his business, I'll give him credit for that.

"Um, yeah." I reached out, trying not to wobble with my nerves, and accepted the garments. The look on my face told him my concern. He waived it off, pointing to the door and suggesting I just go into a fitting room, put it on under my clothing, and come back.

Thirty seconds later, I was entirely naked in the dressing room, about to put on the lingerie, studying my smallish teenage breasts and trimmed wet pussy in the mirror. I wanted cock so bad, but, was this worth it? I loved Daddy; was this how I was really going to fuck my first adult man?

Um -- yes.

I put on the panty, and it was something really of a thong. It covered probably about the top third of my ass; I turned and looked at it in the mirror, and fuck yeah, it looked hot -- small, curvy, tight, soft. Then I wrapped the bra around myself, and my brown nipples were obviously little circles in the black fabric. The bra fit pretty fucking good, I might add.

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