tagBDSMGood Girl to Slut: Emily

Good Girl to Slut: Emily

byIspankwomen©

Note to reader: this story contains kissing, handjobs, oral sex, romantic sex, rough sex, spanking, DD/lg dirty talk in the context of an evolving BDSM dynamic.

*****

Emily was actually a senior in high school when I met her, which is not as dirty as it sounds. She was already 18, and taking classes at the university that I'd just graduated from. As it happened, so was I. I had a part-time job I hated, and I wasn't ready for grad school yet, so I had enrolled in a Russian class, just as a way to keep my mind active and not go crazy from the daily grind at the restaurant I was working at during the afternoon and evening.

Emily, as it turned out, was a heritage speaker. Her parents were both from Russia, and she could speak absolutely perfectly (as far as I could tell) but had absolutely no idea how to write, and could only read very slowly, like a child who had just learned to sound out words.

It also happened that Emily was quite attractive. I wouldn't call her "baby-faced" exactly, but she did have kind of a round face with huge brown eyes and dark curly hair. She wasn't at all fat, but she was what you might call "curvy" in the best possible way. She had large, perky tits and an amazing ass. I wanted nothing more than to pull her over my lap for a nice long spanking.

I would have to wait a while for that opportunity. But the opportunity did come.

Because we were both "non-traditional" students in a sense, Emily and I naturally gravitated to each other in class. The other pupils all knew each other from their dorms, or from other classes or activities, but Emily and I were both outsiders.

At first she was very shy. It took a lot of time for her to come around, but after a while, she began to trust me, and we'd laugh and chat together before and after class like old friends. I'd ask her about her high school debate team tournaments, and she'd ask me about the restaurant and my coworkers.

During class we'd work together sometimes, but it was very hard for me (or anyone else) to keep up with her because she was basically a native speaker who was taking the class to learn how to read and write. This meant she was often bored, and so I took these moment to flirt with or tease her however I could.

It was all very innocent at first. She was 18, and I was 24. Too big of an age gap, right?

That changed one night when she showed up at my restaurant with a friend. She was dressed way too nicely for the place - earrings, makeup, heels - the whole nine yards. Her friend was dressed a little more appropriately for the sort of crappy TGIFriday's-style place it was: jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes.

Her friend's outfit only made Emily appear more striking — and beautiful — by comparison, even if she did look like someone trying to appear much older and more sophisticated than she really was.

Of course I had to go over and greet them, saying hello to her in my best Russian (which wasn't good then, and still isn't very good) and ask her where they'd like to sit.

She blushed and smiled, then turned away, letting her friend do the talking. It was at that moment that it started to occur to me that she might have a crush on me.

I had of course lusted after her young body, but my sense of responsibility had forbidden me from ever entertaining the idea of entering into a relationship with her. It sounds strange to people from other cultures, perhaps, but in the USA there is a huge difference between an 18-year-old and a 24-year-old.

That night, however, it was clear that she was trying to signal something to me. She acted a bit more aloof, grown up. The next day in class there was a strange tension. She came in late and didn't sit next to me.

I went up to her afterwards and followed her outside.

"Hey Emily," I said, "everything ok?"

She stopped, but didn't turn.

"Do you think I'm just a silly high school student?"

"Well, you are in high school aren't you?"

She turned and looked up at me. We were standing very close now.

"I'm 18 years old."

"I know."

I could feel the tension. It almost seemed like she was going to hit me or push me away. But then, suddenly, she went in for a kiss.

This caught me totally off guard.

She pressed her lips so hard into mine that her teeth hit mine. It hurt.

I pushed her back gently.

"Emily," I said, "I don't know if that's really what you want..."

She blushed deeply, then turned away. I could tell she was going to cry.

"What if I were already in college?"

Three tears rolled down her round cheeks.

I put my arm around her to comfort her.

"Look, Emily," I said, "it's not that I don't *want* to."

"Then why *don't* you?"

In that split second, I asked myself the same question. I cupped one of her cheeks in my large hand and pulled her in for another kiss, this one slow and sensual.

Slowly pulled away and smiled at her.

"How was that?"

"Otlichna," she replied. Perfect.

I looked up and saw some of the other students from the class who had seen what happened, and decided we'd best change venues.

"Here's my number," I said, writing on a piece of paper, "text me tonight when you get home."

"I don't have a cell phone," she said, blushing (this was in the early 2000s, so it was totally normal).

"Give me a call, then."

"Ok."

My phone rang at 6:00 that evening, and by pure coincidence I was late to work, otherwise I would have missed her call.

"It's me," she said, "I want to talk about what happened today."

"I want to too," I said, "but I have to work until nine. Can you meet me afterwards?"

She told me she'd meet me in a church parking lot near her house. I agreed.

Part of me thought I should have broken it off there. And I probably should have. But another part of me was very curious about what might happen.

I drove up to the parking lot a little later than the agreed-upon time, feeling not unlike a criminal, even though I was going to meet another consenting adult.

Emily was nowhere to be found. I stopped the car and was about to shut off the engine, when I suddenly saw a figure in a black hooded sweatshirt emerge from a field next to the church and approach my car. It was Emily.

She got in on the passenger side and said "we don't have much time. My parents think I went for a walk."

She scooted over closer to me, but was thwarted by the armrest, which I pushed up and out of the way. The next thing I knew, she was on my lap and her tongue was in my mouth.

After a long kiss, I stopped and looked at her.

"I thought we were going to talk about what happened," I said.

"I did too. But it turns out that some things are more fun than talking."

I grabbed her and pulled her close to me, working my fingers into her thick curly hair as we kissed once more. It was like being back in highschool, and my cock was as hard as it would have been then too. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to take off her clothes, bend her over somewhere and fuck that tight teenage pussy as hard as I could.

Alas, it was not to be. At least not for a while.

I reached behind her and unhooked her bra strap with one hand as we kissed, eager to escalate the encounter.

She moaned in excitement as my hand slipped up her shirt and cupped one of her wonderful breasts for the first time. I got as far as teasing her nipples on both breasts until they were hard little points and grinding her crotch into my leg before she pulled away.

"I've gotta go," she blurted, "here's my address. Come by tomorrow at 3:00, but go up the back path from the bike trail behind the house. Knock on the glass door on the deck. I'll let you in."

She handed me a piece of notebook paper, folded like the kind of note you might pass in school.

"Park around the corner, not in front of the house," she added, just before she slammed the car door and disappeared into the night.

You can bet that I got in my car and parked around the corner from her house, just like she said. My blood was pumping hard as I found the bike path and the located her house from behind.

I jogged up the hill to her house quickly. It was a pretty nice place. She'd told me before that her dad was an engineer of some sort.

I stepped onto the back deck and saw the glass door. I raised my fist to knock, but all of a sudden, there was Emily, grinning at me mischievously.

She threw open the door and looked around quickly, then grabbed me by the hand and led me into an office of some kind, with a desk and a couch. There was a window looking out onto the street.

"We can keep an eye out from here," she said.

"Are you expecting your parents to come back?"

"No, I'm just nervous. They don't let me date."

"I see," I said.

I wasn't sure if we were actually "dating," but I did want to see how far things would go.

She pushed me back onto the couch and straddled me, grinding into me as we kissed. The time she put my hands on her boobs myself.

I reached back and undid her bra again, then tried to pull her shirt over her head.

She grabbed my arm to stop me.

"No," she said, her face flushed with arousal, "I need to be able to get dressed again quickly."

"Ok," I said. Mindful of the gap in age between us, I wanted to respect her boundaries, no matter how little sense they might make to me.

She smiled.

"Thanks," she said, "I know it's kind of silly. I'm just not...that experienced I guess."

"It's ok," I said, "let's take it slow."

"Well," she said, still straddling me, "I would like to do something for you if it's ok."

"Sure," I said, "of course."

She looked down at my bulging package.

"May I?"

She smiled up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

I nodded.

She tried to unbuckle my belt herself but the angle was too awkward and I had to help her. She undid the button of my jeans and unzipped the fly.

I helped her pull my jeans down to my ankles, leaving me in a vulnerable state, should I actually have had to flee from her parents. But I was too hard to care much about that.

She touched my cock through my underwear gingerly, then pulled back for a moment before grasping it a bit more firmly.

Suddenly, she burst out in laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm so sorry. It's just that I don't know why, but I was thinking it was going to be a lot smaller. I've never actually seen one before. I thought it might be the size of a tampon applicator or something."

"But you felt it before," I said, genuinely puzzled, "you could tell it was bigger than that."

She giggled again.

"No, I could just tell that it was hard," she said, "I had no idea what size it was. I'm sorry for laughing."

"It's ok," I said, "every guy wants to hear that his dick is big."

"Ok, well that's big," she blurted.

"Thank you."

"Can I see the whole thing?"

"Promise you won't be scared?" I teased.

She blushed.

"It's just not what I expected is all..."

I pulled down my boxer briefs to reveal my erection.

She touched it gingerly with a finger, then ran her palm down the underside.

"How do you like to be touched?"

Her eyes were smoldering. She was an extremely attractive woman, even if she was inexperienced.

"Some kind of lubrication helps," I said.

She smiled.

"I'll be right back."

For a moment, I was left there alone, on the couch in a strange house, with my pants around my ankles and my dick out, scarcely understanding what I'd gotten myself into, or how.

The room was definitely an office. There were cheap bookshelves from ikea on the walls, as well as a large, elegant glass case filled with small crystal liqueur glasses which looked out of place.

The ticking of the clock on the wall became deafening as I sat there in silence, watching the driveway in front for any sign of Emily's parents.

Finally, she returned.

"This is all I've got," she said, waving a bottle of hand lotion, "and it's scented."

"That's fine," I said.

She squeezed some into her palm.

"Sorry if my hands are cold."

"No worries."

I wish I could say that Emily was a natural, but unfortunately that wasn't true. She grabbed much too tightly at first, jerking me hard with her hand until I gently told her to back off.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Still, despite a rocky start, she did take instruction quite well. After a few minutes I was feeling great.

"Can I see your tits?" I asked.

"Ok," she said, "you can do what you want, but don't take my shirt off."

I nodded, reaching down her shirt in front and cupping a breast.

In the meantime, she was stroking my shaft much too quickly again.

"Slow down," I urged, "just tease it a little with your fingers."

She leaned in for a kiss as she stroked just the tip.

"Does that feel good?" she whispered.

"Mm hmmm."

"Are you going to...you know..."

"Cum?"

"Yeah..."

"I'll tell you when."

"Ok."

No matter how uncomfortable the handjob was at times (from a physical standpoint), the sight of this busty 18-year-old on the couch next to me with my cock in her hand was almost enough on its own to bring me to orgasm.

"Don't stop," I groaned, "just keep doing that. I'm almost there."

She stopped.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I had an itch. I'll keep going now."

This interruption had the effect of making me come back from the edge for a moment.

"Play with my balls," I said.

She grabbed them with one hand and squeezed.

I cringed.

"Not so hard. Just sort of tickle them. While you stroke it."

"How's this?"

"Perfect."

It took awhile for her to get back into a rhythm, but soon I was bucking my hips up to her hand, fucking her palm, as she fondled my balls while we kissed.

My hands were all over her tits in the meantime, exploring them in just the way I'd wanted to in the car. They were soft and firm in all the right ways; springy yet supple: perfect. I only wished I could have seen them better.

"Yes that's it," I said, getting closer, "don't change anything. Just keep going."

She moaned in assent.

"Oh yes, so good..."

I lifted my T-shirt to clear a space for what I knew was coming next.

"Here it comes," I moaned, shooting spurt after spurt across my own chest.

"Ha, oh my god!" she exclaimed, "I can't believe how much there is. When does it stop?"

"It's over."

"Did that feel good?"

"It was great."

I kissed her, and she rushed away to get a washcloth.

Once we'd cleaned ourselves, we returned to the couch and sat together looking out the window. I put my arm around her and kissed her forehead.

"That was fun," I said.

"I know it wasn't the best for you," she said, "but I want to get better."

"I guess you could use me for practice," I smiled.

"Only if you promise to guide me."

I chuckled.

"I'm serious! I want to learn. I've never done any of this stuff before and I want to try it all now."

"What else would you like to try?"

"Everything. But not right away."

"Sure," I said, "of course not. We can take our time."

"I'd like that."

I kissed her again: firmly yet gently.

"Can you come by tomorrow? Same time?"

"Absolutely - of course!"

The next day, we actually had Russian class again, but it was a test day, which meant we didn't have to interact at all. Emily was the first one finished, as usual, and by the time I had handed in my exam she was gone.

No matter, we had our date.

"I want to try a blowjob," she said as we sat on her parents' couch once again.

"Giving or receiving?" I joked.

"Ha ha. You know what I mean," she said, punching my arm, "can I?"

"I don't think any man could say 'no' to that."

She smiled at me, then got down on her knees on the floor, tugging at my belt.

Once again, I helped her get it out.

"Still as big as you remember?" I grinned.

"Even bigger from this angle."

She took the shaft in her hand, looking up at me.

"How do I start?"

"Just put the tip of it in your mouth first. Give it some kisses."

She followed my instructions. Her lips were soft, but her mouth was a bit dry.

"Don't be afraid to use a lot of saliva," I said.

"Like spit on it? Ew."

"If you want, but that's not what I meant," I laughed, "how about getting a glass of water?"

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of ice water.

"Will that make it cold?"

"A little," I said, "but the extra lubrication will be great."

"Ok," she said, smiling up at me with her big brown eyes as she took a long drink.

"You really have the perfect lips for this," I said.

She blushed.

"Thanks."

She started kissing the shaft again, holding it gingerly in one hand, perhaps hesitant after she'd proven too rough during the handjob yesterday.

"Yes, that's good," I said, "lick it a little. Gently."

She began to lick at the bottom of my cockhead.

"Very good," I said, "now get the whole shaft wet with your tongue."

She started licking up and down the sides of the shaft.

"How low should I go?"

"Lick my balls, too."

She obeyed, holding the shaft with one hand as her tongue caressed the underside of my scrotum. It was almost too much.

"That's good," I said, "now take the tip in your mouth, and bob up and down on it."

She came back up to the tip and took it between her lips, then pressed the head to the roof of her mouth.

"Ouch," I said, as she scraped the tip against her upper incisors, "try not to use your teeth."

"Sorry," she said, pulling the cock out for a moment.

"It's ok."

She put it back in her mouth, this time carefully avoiding using her teeth on my shaft. I have to say, it was much better than her handjob. And I loved watching her cute brunette head bob up and down in my lap, while I surveyed the strange decor of the office.

"Ok," I said, "now stroke it with your hand while you suck the tip."

"Should I blow on it?"

"What?"

"Sorry...I thought there would be more blowing..."

"That's just what it's called," I laughed, "there's no blowing."

"Ok. That clears up some things," she said thoughtfully.

I couldn't help but chuckle again.

"I bet it does. Keep going," I urged.

Now the whole shaft was wet, and she began to stroke it with one hand as she sucked the tip. I began to thrust up towards her, but I was careful not to overwhelm her. Still, a few times I got carried away and thrust a bit too deeply and she gagged.

"Sorry," she said, "that must be really gross for you."

"Actually...," I said, "I find it hot."

"When I gag? Weirdo!"

She rolled her eyes and went back to sucking.

Soon, despite the fact that this was nowhere near the best blowjob I'd ever had (or that Emily would ever give me) I was close to cumming again.

"Emily," I said, "I'm going to cum soon. You have to decide where you're going to take it."

She stopped and looked up at me.

"What do *you* want?"

"In your mouth," I said, "but that might be a lot for the first time."

"I want what you want," she said, closing her full lips around my shaft once again and letting out a short, feminine moan of satisfaction which drove me crazy.

"Oh fuck," I groaned, "oh yes, Emily. Oh yes. Here it comes. Don't stop."

I shot a huge load straight into the poor unsuspecting girl's mouth. She gagged as the first spurt hit the back of her throat, and instinctively pulled my cock out of her mouth and coughed into her hand.

Unfortunately, my orgasm was far from over, and she was now pointing my cock directly at her own forehead, which is where the next shot landed.

Recoiling in surprise and disgust, she managed to aim the next shot at her chest. I was pleased to see it hit her cleavage, but it also soiled her blouse, which I knew she wouldn't like.

Not only had Emily given her first blowjob, she'd also received her first facial!

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