The Beach House Escapades Ch. 02

I'm again out on the terrace overlooking the ocean, watching the surfers try to make something out of the typically bad Florida slop. There hasn't been a solid swell since the day Vika almost drowned over a month ago; the day I had swum out and rescued my young friend after her board had knocked her unconscious when that freak swell had come out of nowhere and almost killed her.

At 9AM I hear a soft knock on the door to the kitchen. I open it to see Vika standing there looking around furtively as if making sure no one has seen her come up my drive. I put my arm around her and invite her in. I ask if she'd like some breakfast or perhaps a fruit smoothie. She looks up me and leans back closing her eyes, waiting for a kiss. I bend down and press my lips to hers and instantly her mouth is open and her tongue is wrestling with mine.

She breathes a great sigh of relief and admits, "I wasn't sure you'd want to see me again. Not after the way I left the other day.... What I said as I was leaving."

"Well, you really took me by surprise, Vika," I agreed, "but it's nothing we can't handle if we're careful." I look directly into her eyes and ask, "So nobody knows you've come over here today, and nobody knows about last Wednesday?"

She shakes her head emphatically no.

"No entry into a diary? No blog chat on the internet telling how you gave yourself to a guy 10 years older than you? No sharing secrets with a girlfriend at school?"

Again she shakes her head, her long blonde hair swaying with the motion of her head. "I swear, Derek, I haven't said or written a thing!"

I gaze at her searchingly and then pronounce, "I think I'm going to need more than your word, Vika."

She looks at me skeptically and asks, "So what do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking we can pick up where we left off, and have a lot of fun doing it!" I say excitedly. "You see these little security cameras I have installed?" I ask, pointing to them one by one as we walk through the house. They are all linked to my computer. It will be easy for me to set them up to record us together. It won't be very good quality --- nothing like you'd ever see on a porn site or a movie, but good enough."

"Good enough for what?" she asked, still sounding doubtful.

"Well, good enough that if you ever did accidentally or intentionally let it get out about how you came to lose your virginity with a man my age, I would have a videotape to prove that you participated willingly and were here because you wanted to be."

I looked at her and smiled my brightest smile. "It'll be fun, Vika! I've thought about it all week. Like I said, the video quality off these little cameras suck, but who cares? If things go right, no one will ever see the tape. But meanwhile, we can put on our own little skits and stuff --- playacting if you wanna call it that --- and in the process I'll teach you a thousand ways to make a guy happy so that later in life, when you see me as just an old fart, you'll know how to wrap a guy around your finger and beg you just to smile at him! Wouldn't you like to know that kinda stuff, Vika?"

She nods her head as she puts her arms around my waist, looking up at me adoringly. "Will that make you happy, Derek? If it does, then I guess it will be all right. I mean, we both have to trust one another and it wouldn't be fair for me to hold all the cards."

"You are such a hot little mink, Vika and smart, too. Thank you." I leaned down and kissed her for a long moment, exploring her mouth with my tongue. When I pulled away she was dizzy and had trouble standing. "I'm gonna use my tongue just like that all over you, sweetie," I whisper.

She let out a little groan and squeezed my hand. "That's all I've been thinking about! What you do with your tongue...."

I'm looking at Vika's ass as she walks ahead of me back toward the living room, the material of her short shorts riding tight against her cheeks from behind, and cutting the cleave of her sweet pussy from the front. They have an elastic waistband, and in a moment of silliness I reach ahead and yank them down to her ankles, almost causing her to trip. I race past her, whooping like a madman while pulling my own shirt over my head. I race into the living room, where the sun pours in through the skylight and the sliding doors leading to the terrace. These also have sheer curtains that glow from the outside light, but allow no visibility into the house. Vika catches up, her shorts completely off and wearing nothing but a tank shirt and a pair of lacy white panties.

"Do you like them," she asks, spinning on her toes like a model with her arms raised over head. "I rode my bike down to Target and bought them with my allowance. My mom would never let me get a pair like this. She treats me like I'm a twelve year old. I guess it's because I still sorta look like one, huh?" she asks, looking into my antique freestanding mirror.

Her little body is underdeveloped, but plain cute as hell to me. "Vika, you look beautiful. Like I told you the other day, some girls mature fast and some mature more slowly. You're doing fine, so don't worry about it."

She pulls the panties tight into her crotch, the material disappearing between her pussy lips and whimpers, "When I do this they make my puss-puss feel funny," in a little girl's voice.

"That's funny," I say. "They look like they were made for you. But I have an idea how they'll look even better...."

She looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to say how.

"Lying on the floor!" I say in a deep, sexy voice, making her blush cherry red. "Take them off real slow, like they are tight and you have to wiggle out of them," I suggest.

"Today's lesson for you is going to be all about visual stimulation --- how to act, what to say, how to move to make a guy go crazy.... Starting with me! What you learn here today will only help you later on in life, as long as you remember that there's a time and a place for every type of behavior. You can act slutty in the bedroom, but when you act slutty out in public you give away your dignity. I guess you can say that it's all a matter of degrees. A little slutty to get a guy you like's attention is one thing, but to camp around like some girls do --- it just seems that they don't care what people think about them."

Now that she and I have worked out the basic problems to our "relationship", we can focus on its development. To accommodate this I have already made a few special purchases which I show her, ranging from sex toys for us to experiment with to outfits and costumes she can wear if we get the mind for some role playing. I plan on turning this barely legal girl into a well trained mink; to debase her in wild excess as she fulfills every fantasy I am able to conceive. There will be no titillations left unexplored – no decadence too depraved if those things are what I desire. I will teach her that in pleasing me or any man, her imagination is her greatest tool.

Her nimble young body stands naked before me, turning this way and that as she perches atop sandals with five inches of stacked heel and three inches of base. She's a bit clumsy at first, but soon finds the technique to master them. She bends and spins, using furniture as props for her show. I sit off camera, directing and lusting. She laughs as she watches my face for reactions, pleased with herself when she's doing something which obviously drives me wild. There isn't much that doesn't, when face to face with a girl with her looks and body.

I know she's anxious to get into bed and further explore her newly awakened appetites, but there's plenty of time. I have her for the whole weekend, her parents leaving her on her own as they take the two night casino cruise out of the local port. She's an only child with no other family within 200 miles she reports with a bawdy wink. Her friends, which she says are few indeed, all have their own plans so all that's expected of her is to feed the family cat, "while you are feeding my pussy," she says, looking at me pointedly. I love her directness. A girl who knows exactly what she wants.

She's here for me, and I have a video to shoot with her as the unsuspecting star. Since I don't know how many opportunities I'll have like this, I want to make the most of our time. I'll put her in one costume after another, from innocent schoolgirl to leopard skin clad cave girl, to sexy French maid. From a superhero Wonder Woman to submissive slave. It was odd buying all these costumes, but I found a store in Orlando which has everything I need, and the helpful clerk didn't seem to think anything of the choices I made. This store obviously caters to strippers and perverts like me! I got the sizes right, and Vika is having fun fixing her hair in different ways, putting on makeup to dramatize the look I seek, and of course, she loves the praise I'm constantly showering upon her. She seems to be a lonely girl, in dire need of daddy love.

I've outlined a script for her and she's asked the right questions to figure out her role in it. For her role I've painted a few freckles on her face and she's got her hair pulled into two pigtails. She's got the Catholic schoolgirl outfit on, complete with pleated Tartan skirt that rides four inches above her knees, a sheer silk blouse and knee high white stockings with black and white saddle shoes. I've given her some plain white girls underpants to wear to finish off the costume. She looks adorable. We're enacting a scene where I'm her stern teacher who's upset with her grade performance. Her role is to act scared that if she doesn't pass the class her parents will be extremely disappointed and punish her. Her character has ridden her bike over to her teacher's house after school to beg me not to fail her. She's to be sweet and innocent with no idea of what I have in mind. I turn on the digital camera I've mounted on a tripod behind the couch, pointing it directly at her, the star. I've decided to use this as well as the smaller cameras hidden throughout the room, and she's willingly obliged, but only after I've promised that only she and I will ever see it. Sure.

Now we're into our roles. I've invite her in and ask her to sit down on my couch while I fix her something to drink. I hand her a glass of something. She takes a sip and scrunches her nose at the taste. It's vodka and cranberry juice I tell her, and she had better drink up. She's unsure, so I harangue her until she drinks the whole glass. I sit down next to her and ask her what she's willing to do to get that good grade she's after. She already has a buzz from the strong drink, and she stammers that she guesses whatever it takes, never suspecting what's in store. I take her hand and put it in my lap and hold it there. She can feel my cock stirring and her eyes get huge. Now she's scared, but the alcohol has numbed her inhibitions sufficiently for me to pull her to me so I can kiss her. She resists at first, but my insistence is too great. My hand lifts from hers and roughly fondles her breasts through her shirt, then goes between her legs, forcing them apart. She tosses her head to the side, breaking away from the kiss, a look of wild panic in her eyes.

"Mr. Deavers, what are you doing?" she cries as she tries to squirm from my grasp.

"I'm helping you get that grade you came here for. If you don't want to do the work in the classroom...."

"But I only came here to offer to do extra classwork, or a special assignment or something," she pleads, her shoulders pulled up defensively and a worried look on her face. "I'm not sure I wanna do any of this stuff you're making me do...". Her voice trails off as I pull her mouth to mine again.

She lets out a tiny whimper but quits struggling. Once I know she's acquiesced, I tell her to stand up in front of me. I have one of the cameras positioned so it's behind me, aimed from a higher angle. The young girl complies, affecting the pose that Vika had given me just before she admitted her age the other day. Finger in her mouth, looking shyly away from me, one knee turned inward. I order her to unbutton her shirt and then take it off. She hesitates, so I reach out and pull her closer to me. She stumbles forward but keeps her balance. I grab her shirt at her neck and threaten to rip it open. Almost in shock, she begins unbuttoning it, exposing a tiny bra. I pull her shirt off her shoulders and throw it onto the floor. She's locked between my knees now and unable to pull away. Reaching up, I push her bra above her boobs, then use a hand to tweak each nipple. The horror in her eyes looks genuine. Her small nipples are soon erect, and I turn her from side to side to profile them for the camera. There is almost no boob underneath them, but what is there hints at lovely things to come in a few more years of development.

My hands now roam freely up and down the outsides of her thighs, making her jump each time they cup a handful of ass cheek. I tell her to back away from me and slowly work her panties down under her skirt all the way to her ankles while facing me, but not letting me see her pussy as she does so. Vika is a natural prick tease and is really getting into her role as innocent victim. She shakes her head no at first, then takes a deep breath when she realizes her only option is either to fail the class or do this. Still woozy from the vodka, she almost falls as she slowly slides the panties off, stepping one leg out and leaving them in a tangle around her left ankle. I tell her to take off her shoes but to leave her stockings on. She lifts first one and then the other up to me, putting her foot between my legs on the couch for me to untie. There's a teasing moment when you can almost see up her skirt each time, the long, tanned flesh of her skinny thighs creating a lust that will soon need to be quenched in Mr. Deavers.

The girl reaches to the end table and brazenly picks up her teacher's drink and gulps it down. She knows she will need the alcohol to fortify her for what is happening. Now resolved that to get the grade she will have to do whatever her teacher demands, she decides she might as well give in to the moment and make the best of it.

"Mr. Deavers, are you gonna fuck me?" she asks in a high pitched little girl voice. "'Cause I've never done it before, and I'm scared it's gonna hurt!"

"It will hurt, Miss Hanaway, but I assure you it will hurt good." I breathe huskily, as she steps back and looks at herself in the reflection of a freestanding full length mirror off to one side of the large, sunny room. Standing there in the bright daylight, the sun outside intensified by the sea and white sand. Standing there wearing knee socks and a plaid skirt, her brassiere pushed up so her tiny nipples are showing.

She has the clear complexion yet to be blemished by either years or poor diet. Thin and winsome, she stands a little over five feet tall in her bare feet. As Miss Hanaway, Vika has affected the character of a girl a bit more naive when considering how quickly Vika herself has blossomed now that she has been relieved of her virginity... three short days ago.

"Miss Hanaway, do you understand that if you do not abide by my every wish today you will fail my class?" I demand.

"Yes, Mr. Deavers," she agrees, looking at me intently for her next order.

"Then turn with your back to me and bend over at your waist. Keep your knees locked." The girl bends over as if she's picking up a dropped pencil. She's not three feet away as I lean forward from the edge of the sofa and run one of my hands up the inside of her thigh, moving it slowly, caressing her young flesh as it proceeds up under her skirt.

"Back up two steps," I say. She's now standing directly in front of me, keeping her back to me and still bent over, but craning her neck over her shoulder to gaze expectantly at me. Her pigtails and freckles are cute as hell and her expression tells me that Vika is heating up, even if Miss Hanaway the reluctant student is not. I use the remote control for the motorized swivel on the digital camera and pan her up and down, then move the zoom out for a wide view.

I slowly raise the back of her plaid skirt, feasting my eyes on her bubble butt, tracing the line where cheek meets thigh. Her tush is so tight that there is no droop, so her little bald clam stares out at me in a vertical smile, while her butthole, clenched so tight it appears to wink, looks like a little brown teardrop against her creamy, white flesh. I flip the skirt so that it lays across her back and use my feet to nudge her own apart. Now her little gash is partway open, and I tell her to reach back with both hands and spread her butt wide for me. She starts to object, then thinks better of it when I slap her ass with an open hand. She reaches back and pulls her butt apart, so far that the skin is stretched tight.

Reaching out delicately with a thumb and forefinger, I remove a piece of lint clinging to her cooch, causing her knees to wobble. "Stand up straight now." I can still see her muffin with her legs so far apart, and I also see the first drip of honey forming between its lips. "Turn around," I tell her, "and face me. Lift your skirt up. All the way up. I want you to show me your little pie, and I want you to smile while you're doing it!" My tone has become increasingly bossy with each demand.

"Y-Yes, sir," she stammers, lifting her skirt and forcing a smile onto her pretty face.

"Tell me what you call it when you're talking to your mommy about it!" I snarl. "You have a name for it. What is it?"

"My puss-puss," she whimpers, blushing a deep crimson as she says it.

"Your puss-puss," I sneer. "You call your twat your puss-puss. Well, isn't that cute."

She blushes again but continues to stand there holding her skirt up as I study her. "Pinch your nipples for me with your other hand. I want to seem them poking out like little erasers again. Keep them so they stay like that."

Looking forlornly down at her flat chest, she begins a slow torment to each breast bud, turning them an angry pink as her nipples become erect. Her pussy begins to feel the effect of her unconscious arousal as blood begins flooding the area. I reach out and begin fondling her ass again, pulling her open from behind and working my fingers between the outer folds of her labia. Soon I have the little and ring fingers of each hand well inside her, the amount of honey oozing from her surprising me.

"Well, Miss Hanaway," I announce. I've been looking her in the eye the whole time my hands were assaulting her, enjoying the expression which slowly transformed from horror to unwilling arousal on her face. I take my hands away and show her the wetness I've discovered in her treasure box. "It appears that whether you like it or not, you are producing adequate lubrication for what I have in mind..."

I lick her juices from my digits and cock my head sideways at her. "What shall we do next?" I ask myself rhetorically.

"I want to go home!" Miss Hanaway cries, looking at the door.

I grab one of her hands and pull her across my lap, positioning her so that her fanny is poking up in the air. I flip her skirt onto her back and draw small circles on each of her cheeks with a delicate finger. Suddenly I slap her ass, spanking first one cheek and then the other. She lets out a startled cry and then begins weeping, begging me to stop.

"Please, Mr. Deavers! You're hurting me! I promise to pay attention in class. I'll do my homework. Just let me go home! Please?," she sobs when I have stopped paddling her.

I have her held down with one hand, but my other is free to explore, and explore it does, snapping the tight elastic of her bra strap before unhooking the clasp, then roaming down her back and across her burning cheeks. I lean over and blow a cool breath on her butt,then prod her legs apart, searching for her moist little quim.