Girlfriend's Sexy, Slutty Daughter

As soon as I touched her breasts and fingered her nipples, as if her nipples were her on button, she leaned down and took my cock in her mouth. I watched her in shocked disbelief sucking me. My girlfriend's daughter, a woman I only met a mere few hours ago was giving me a blowjob and what a blowjob it was. Better than any blowjob I could have imagined, she was giving me the best blowjob I've ever had in my life. Only, not ready to cum in her pretty, little mouth, there was so much more that I wanted to do to her first.

I needed to kiss her again. I needed to finger her, lick her, and eat her. I needed to give her pleasure first. If I was to win her heart, if I was to maintain her sexual interest, and keep her in my bed, I needed to sexually satisfy her by showing her that I wasn't a selfish lover. Just as she was giving me the damn best blowjob of my life, I needed to give her the best damn orgasm of her life. Then, before I fucked her, really slammed my cock deep inside of her, I needed to make love to her. Better than licking her pussy, better than having her suck my cock, I couldn't wait to French kiss her again and again, while my cock was imbedded deep inside of her.

"Wait, don't. Stop."

"What's wrong, Drew?"

"I can't wait to lick your pussy, but I really need to kiss you first, before I eat you," I said.

We kissed and kissed. We kissed, until my lips were red raw. We kissed, until I was satisfied that I had explored every shapely curve and crevice of her beautiful body a dozen times with my horny hands.

"Be my guest," she said lying back, spreading her legs, and lifting her pussy with her hand to show me some moist pink.

"Only, kiss me again first," I said realistically knowing this sexual fantasy would end as quickly as it started. In addition to seeing her naked, having her suck my cock, and with me about to lick her pussy, I needed something more to remember her by, after she disappeared from my life. "Even though you don't love me, kiss me as if you do. For a mere moment, just humor me and pretend that you love me," I said pausing to look at her. "With you so young and me so much older, I need to know what it feels like to be kissed, really kissed, by you, if you truly loved me."

"Even though I don't love you?" She looked at me with seriousness. "How do you know I don't love you?"

Wanting to believe that she did, but knowing better that she didn't, the look she gave me confessed that she did love me, but how could someone so young and so beautiful love someone so old and so average so quickly? Easy to understand how I could love her, but how could she love me? We just met.

"What do you mean? Are you telling me that you love me? Wait, is this another game you're playing with me?" I wanted to laugh away my awkwardness, but she wasn't laughing. "Are you teasing me?"

"My Mom told me all about you, Drew," she said taking my hand in hers, bringing it to her lips, and kissing it. "She used to talk to me every day, before she started working the graveyard shift. I know more about you than you can imagine. I know how she's mistreated you by rejecting you, after all the things you've done for her. After all the nice things she said to me about you in the beginning, I couldn't wait to meet you. Then, when I finally did meet you, something took hold of me at the airport and I couldn't keep my hands and lips off of you."

Then, we kissed and kissed. We kissed until my lips were sore but I didn't care. We kissed until I couldn't breathe, but now every breath of mine belong to her. Never have I kissed a woman who could excite me with just her lips. If I was to rate her kissing, she was, without doubt, the best kisser in my life. She made me feel as though I was twenty-something again. Quickly changing from lust to love, never have I felt such love for anyone. It's been a long time, since anyone has kissed me in the way she kissed me.

"Now that was a kiss that shows me you love me," I said.

"I love you, Drew."

"I love you, Ellen."

With both of us already naked, in the mood, and aroused, we didn't waste any more time talking. Just the touch of her body, so firm, yet, so soft, and so different from Anne's body, I forgot what it felt like to touch the skin of a woman so forbiddingly young. Where Anne was busting her nurse's uniform at the seams from inactivity and a bad diet, Ellen had the body of a champion figure skater or an Olympic swimmer. Where Anne refused to dye her grey hair, Ellen had gorgeous natural brown hair, the color of multicolored veneered mahogany, from dark blonde to cherry red to chestnut. Still, something that aroused my attraction to her, albeit a much younger version of her, I could see so much of Anne in Ellen. They had the same laugh, smile, and voice. I imagine that if they were both in a darkened room, I'd have difficulty picking one from the other, when just hearing them talk or laugh.

Touching and feeling her everywhere, she made me forget that I was twenty-six years older than she was. As old as her father, no doubt, if he was still on the scene, if he still cared what happened to his daughter, in the way that I once cared about Anne and now cared about Ellen, I'm sure he'd have plenty to say about me having sex with Ellen, after having had sex with Anne. As soon as I mounted Ellen and she took my cock in her hand to guide me in her already wet pussy, the sensation of easing my engorged prick inside of her with a gentle hump was a feeling that I've felt before with any woman. While she returned my thrust, making love to her was nothing I ever could have imagined, had I been relegated to just masturbating over the sexually fantasized thoughts of having sex with her, instead of actually making love to her.

We had hot sex and while holding one another in the afterglow, we made a fatal mistake, a blessing in disguise, really, of falling asleep. As if she was the evil Godmother, the Devil in a white nurses uniform, while standing in my bedroom doorway, she screamed us awake.

"What's going on here?"

Oh shit! Duh? You're a nurse, a medical professional. I'm naked, your daughter is naked, what do you think is going on here? This wasn't a joint medical exam. We just had sex, double duh. Wanting to answer her rhetorical question, I bit my tongue.

"Anne! Oh, my God."

"Did you fuck him?" She looked at Ellen and without even waiting for her to respond, she looked at me. "Did you have sex with my baby girl?" Not even waiting for us to answer, the guilt was all over our naked bodies. "How could you?"

"Listen, Anne, what happened was...I'm sorry--"

"I really don't want to hear your excuses or apologies. You make your choice right now, Drew," she said. "It's either her or me. Do you want me or do you want my daughter?"

What seemed like several hours of me contemplating my universe with boring Anne in it, instead of sexy, slutty Ellen, was only a few seconds. I suddenly thought of how much Ellen's mother, what's her name, meant to me. I took an inventory in my mind listing all of her positives and all of her negatives. For sure, Anne's positives far outweighed her negatives, I think. When she wasn't working or sleeping, she was a good cook, I think, if I remember back to the last meal she made. Close to the same age and always on the same page, I didn't have to explain book, movie references, and jokes to her. She made a good living as a nurse. A game that I could teach Ellen, no doubt, if she didn't already know how to play, she knew how to play Whist. For sure, without a doubt, I'd be foolish to rid my life of Anne for the sexy sake of her shapely daughter.

Then, I did the same with Ellen. I honestly tried to take an inventory of all of her positives and all of her negatives, but as soon as I thought of her first name, Ellen, I was incapable of having any normal, rational thoughts, but for the one. Damn, she looks wicked good naked.

As if her question, an ultimatum, actually with her question being the critical turning point in my life, I looked at Anne long and hard. Giving her the most apologetic and sincere smile that I could muster under such circumstances, I tried to let her know that I was sorry.

"I'm going to miss you, Anne."

THE END

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