Studio Audience Ch. 02

"Fucking. Take. It." Each word grunted as I slammed my hips down. "Take. It. You. Filthy." I drove my cock in and held it just a beat longer for these last words. "Little... Slut..."

SMACK

Megan squealed as I slapped her ass. Her thighs trembled as they wrapped back around me. I pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail with both fists, loving how that looked. It was dyed blonde just this afternoon. She looked stunning when she arrived home this evening, but she was cuter when she flushed dark pink as I told her I was going to fuck her hard enough to turn her hair white instead. Now I was doing just that. My hand pressed the small of her back down into our bed, and I hoisted her hips up to renew my assault on her soaked pussy. Each time she tried to rise, I pushed her back down more forcefully.

"You're going to take it like a good little girl, aren't you, baby?"

I only got a long moan in response.

"Use your words...."

"Yessss I... ohfuckkkk.... baby I'm... baby I'm gonna take it... I need to take that fat cock... that cock in my pussy.... babbyyyy.... fuck my naughty little cunt... fuck it daddyyyooHHHGODDDdddd"

She erupted. I could feel her squirt all over my thighs, splattering down onto my feet. I kept railing her into the bed, careful to not let up at all. Her feet left the floor, kicking the air behind me as I split her open. SMACK. My hand crashed down on her ass again and again and again. She flailed in her pleasure, and I grunted as I got close to my own cliff. She could feel it and looked back at me as she came back to her senses.

"Baby... Jon... please... gimme that cum baby..." Her eyes were pleading with me. She really needed it. I sped up my thrusts as she clenched her battered cunt over my shaft. I groaned and pressed my chest to her back.

"Fill me up daddy, please, baby gimme that load... you know I need it... I need to be filled... by you... gimmmeeeeee..."

"oh my god... cumming..." I gasped it out. Our mouths met. My tongue found hers. An involuntary whimper escaped my chest, causing her lips to twist into a grin, as I emptied myself. I could feel the condom swelling around my swollen cock as my balls drew up. More and more and more of my seed flowed into the rubber. She felt it and moaned, gyrating her hips to coax the last drops from me. Finally, I collapsed, spent, and pulled her into my chest as my cock slowly deflated and slipped from her with a soft squelch.

I was on top of the world. It had been two months since Rebecca had moved out. Two months of being "empty-nesters." Honestly, I almost felt bad for how much we were loving it. Megan and I had Rebecca so young, had been married shortly after, and this was the first time in our adult lives that we only had ourselves to look after. To put it simply, we were having fun. We were both working out, we were trying new restaurants, we were fucking like animals every night, work was going well for both of us, and just about everything was looking up. Maybe our 40s would turn out to be a magical decade after all. We had both feared that birthday to be sure, but both Megan's and mine passed almost without note -- within a week of each other nonetheless. As I pulled my wife into my chest, feeling her nuzzling into me, I couldn't believe just how lucky I was.

The only catch was Emily. Rebecca's best friend had moved into the studio apartment attached to our house just before she and Rebecca started classes this semester. While the past two months had passed without serious incident -- three late-night reprimands for loud music, and a rent check that bounced and took a week to set straight -- an odd routine had developed. To be more specific, I had developed an odd routine. As a young woman exploring the world for the first time, Emily seemed to have a lot of stress, a high sex drive, and the unfortunate -- well, I guess that depends on who you ask -- habit of relieving that stress late at night in the shower. It just so happened that her shower shared a wall with my library. At least three times per week -- sometimes more -- I would find myself listening intently to the sounds of running water, the high pitched whine of a vibrator, and the half mumbled stream of consciousness that my daughter's best friend would let out as she drove herself to the peak of orgasm after orgasm mere feet away from me.

I would like to say that I simply avoided these situations. I would like to say that I left Emily to her private business in peace. I would like to say that, but I can't. Rather, I made it my nightly routine to settle into my favorite armchair after Megan drifted off to sleep, open a book or a journal -- in my defense, I was being quite studious and productive as long as the shower was turned off -- and wait. Some nights nothing happened. Those nights did wonders for my research output; the Chair of my department was already complimenting me on my sudden creative streak. Some nights Emily was quick, only moaning softly, nearly imperceptibly, once or twice before turning off the water. Some nights, the nights I admit I longed for, she would be going at it for the better part of an hour, building to a crescendo, climax after climax, each louder than the last, screaming out the filthiest things I had ever heard. Most of these exclamations were lost amid a sea of whimpers, cries, and other incoherent noises, but some were clear enough to make my cock explode in my fist two or even three times before she was finished -- even after I had fucked Megan to sleep.

My eyes were opened to just how needy and naughty a young woman's mind could get. She ventriloquized men. She roleplayed about herself and another woman. She begged for a cock up her tight little ass and another up her cunt. She would even plead for a "fat daddy cock" to knock her up. Her fantasies seemed to get more and more filthy as time went on, and I had started incorporating her language into my diatribes at Megan when we made love. It worked wonders. From never even adventuring so far as to try sex toys together, Megan and I were now bringing each other to mind-blowing orgasms nearly every single night, thanks in no small part to the fantasies I took from an unwitting Emily.

I would ease Megan into these fantasies with her legs up over my shoulders. She was so needy for my mouth and fingers, so I would tease her inner thighs as I introduced each lurid thought. Posing questions about how badly she needed my cock, noting how incredibly wet her cunt was getting, calling her names like 'needy pet or 'good little girl,' she was putty in my hands. The other innovation that made her melt for me was the introduction of her vibrator. Again, taking the idea from Emily's near-constant use of her own toy, I had shopped around and purchased one for Megan for her birthday. It was small, barely large enough to cover her clit, but it did the job. Dragging it over the tops of her thighs, down to her ass, along the sensitive skin of her pubic mound, I made her squirm for me before I even put a finger inside her. When I finally did insert a finger -- maybe two, sometimes three -- she came immediately more often than not. Although she would scream and squirt so quickly, I always kept up my assault until she was a whimpering, soaked mess.

Only then would I move up her body, push my cock into her mouth, and let her taste how hard that display of her passion had gotten me. She loved it. I never knew it before, but I had quite the little submissive on my hands. Sure, she would play it tough from time to time, but nothing made her quite as wet as me taking control. By the time she had my cock in her mouth -- either on her back with me straddling her chest, or on her stomach leaning off the bed, depending on how I wanted to take her that night -- I was telling her what to do rather than asking. She never disobeyed. She just looked up at me with her big brown eyes and made a show of sucking my cock long and hard and sloppily as I told her what a good girl she was. And she was so good for me. It was always hard to pull my cock away to fuck her before she made me cum in her mouth, and sometimes I just let her swallow my load instead. Those nights were divine, and the look in her eyes as she tasted my load and dutifully swallowed always made me give her every drop I had in me.

When I did make it to fucking her, she became my "naughty little slut" rather than my "good girl." She loved it. I could feel the difference in her pussy whenever I switched those labels. She would whimper, grip my cock, and a fresh flood of wetness would flow out of her. So I fucked my naughty little slut. I told her how bad she was for being so easy for my big daddy cock, railing her until we were both satisfied. At the end of it all, I would be filling a condom inside of Megan's battered cunt while holding her until she fell asleep.

She was such a heavy sleeper that she never felt me rise, dispose of the condom, clean myself off, and head to my library. She never stirred as I settled down with my book. She somehow, inexplicably, never broke her rhythm of light snores, even as I listened to our 19-year-old tenant fuck herself silly, and I emptied my balls over and over again to that image.

Tonight was no different. My cock stirred in anticipation as I heard the shower turn on, and I set my book to the side. Pausing to confirm that Megan was still snoring, blissfully unaware, I slowly peeled off my t-shirt and slipped my hand down below the elastic waistline of my sweatpants. I listened.

"mmmmmmgoddddd"

She wasn't wasting any time tonight. I sighed, running my hand absently up my stomach and chest. I'd always been in decent shape, but I took a moment tonight to appreciate just how much my new workout routine had accomplished in so short a time. Both Megan and I had resolved to spend more time focusing on ourselves now that Rebecca was out of the house. While she had joined a local yoga studio, I had gotten into the routine of running each morning and working out with the dumbbell set I had gotten myself for my birthday. The slight "dad bod" that had developed while Rebecca was in high school had melted away into a tight chest and a slim stomach that was even showing the beginning of some abs. I felt good. I felt sexy. My mind flickered back to Megan sleeping in our bed, thinking about how I had just demolished her, only to be drawn back by another long, low moan through the wall.

"yesss fuck yes baby... oh my god... like that... oh fuck yes, Jon..."

My breath caught. It was going to be one of those nights.

I honestly can't remember when these nights started. Maybe it had always been part of her diatribe; maybe I had just always wished it was. Among the countless terms and scenarios that spilled from Emily's mouth, every once in a while, a specific name emerged: mine. She was getting off to me. It was hot as hell. I thought about her leaning against the shower wall, water running down her tight young body, letting her vibrator push her right to the edge as she thought about all the things I could and would do to her, and my balls churned. I was already there. I had emptied myself inside Megan less than 20 minutes ago, and here I was, about to cum again, just listening to a minute or two of Emily's self-pleasure. I leaned into it and tightened my grip.

"Jonnnnn... fuck me... like that daddy yesss..."

I came. My cock throbbed and spilled my seed all over my fist. The intensity of it was incredible, even if the load itself was a bit lacking -- I was orgasming two or three times per day now, so my loads were barely coating my fingers. Spots shimmered across my vision as I came down, but I kept my hand moving slowly up and over my shaft, rubbing my semen into the soft skin of my cock, refusing to let myself get flaccid. I knew Emily wasn't done, so I made sure I was still going as well.

"Jonnnnn... oh fuck like that daddy, yesss JONNN, daddy I'm... I'm ... gonna .... FUUUCkkkkYESSSS"

That was fast. I groaned to myself as I listened to Emily's first orgasm of the night. It was almost like we were synced. More often than not, she would reach her first climax just after I reached mine. I knew she wouldn't stop there, and the mental image of her wet, tight, young body flailing to the thought of my cock inside her pushed a fresh flood of blood to my member, stiffening it once again. My hand glided up and down my shaft as I imagined the details. Emily's eyes fluttering, her blonde hair streaming down her back, maybe a stray strand between her lips as they parted and she moaned. As she moaned for me. Imagining her chest heaving, how the water would stream between her breasts -- while they were smaller than Megan's, they always looked firmer. The closest I had come to seeing them was plastered inside Emily's soaked, thin t-shirt on the day that we moved Rebecca into the dorms. That memory had been ... useful ... during these late-night voyeuristic sessions. Part of me -- okay, most of me -- longed to see more of Emily's body in full. I pictured her long legs coming up to her chest as she sat on the shower floor. I mentally drew a detailed painting of her fingers coming up to twist her light pink areolas. I would give anything to see her nipples -- wondering if they were pert and standing firm as she played with herself, or if they were softer and puffier, like Megan's.

Most of all, I would think about her soaked, dripping pussy. Having no information to go on, it morphed in my mind's eye each time I thought about it. Some days it was plastered with soaked, untrimmed hair that swallowed Emily's fingers and the end of her vibrator as she played with herself. Sometimes I imagined it waxed clean and glistening as she spread it open. Some nights I licked my lips as I stroked myself, pretending that my tongue was dancing along the folds of her labia as it hung in front of my mouth -- Megan had always been self-conscious about her own labia, but I absolutely adored it. Some of my climaxes were brought about by imagining the exact opposite -- Emily's tight little pussy feeling so different from my wife's both on my lips and around my cock.

My lurid thoughts were interrupted again by the sound of a wet, loud slap against the shower wall. I sat up. For a second, I was concerned that Emily had slipped and fallen -- my mind raced with what excuse I could give to how I knew she needed help. Then I heard another long, low moan. I listened, confused.

"oooohhhhh jesus fuckkkkkk... daddyyyyy.... ooooh go slow Jon pleassseeeee babyyyyyy..."

The wall creaked softly as I stared at it, wishing I could bore holes right through to the other side. The water continued to fall. The vibrator's hum was muffled -- she likely had it tucked up between her thighs. The wall creaked again, this time accompanied by a low, nearly incoherent whimper. My mind spun as I tried to imagine what in the world this girl could be up to. My mind ran through a dozen different scenarios. She was leaning against the wall. She was still in the shower. She was moaning. Rhythmically. As she leaned... against the wall... I groaned. Almost involuntarily, I found myself leaning against the wall as well, braced by a single hand, directly behind where the creaks originated.

She was fucking herself on a dildo. Of that I had no doubt. But what nearly brought me to another climax at that instant was the realization that this dildo was mounted to the wall of the shower. The little minx had gotten ahold of a suction cup dildo, had mounted it on the wall, and was now easing her tight -- tonight I imagined it waxed and tight -- pussy back onto it. I was sure of it. I would have bet anything. The creaking sped up, now accompanied by the light slapping of her wet ass against the tile of the shower.

"dadddyyyyy fuck that little cunntttt... oh my GOD Jonnnnn ... please ... slowwwwwwbabbyyyy ... your cock ... its so BIG ... like thatttttJonnnnnyesssss ... fasterrrrYESsssss ..."

I could almost see it. She was slamming that tight, firm ass back onto the dildo imagining it was me -- her best friend's dad. In this position, I was almost exactly behind her. She would never know it, but the cock she was fantasizing about was only a few feet -- hell a few inches now -- behind that needy little cunt sliding up and down the silicon shaft of the dildo. My hips moved in rhythm with the slapping sounds against the wall. It was like I had never fucked Megan that night, like I had not just blown a load all over my fingers, my cock was on fire, and it was all I could do to not shoot all over the wall.

"fasterrr... baby faster PLEASE ... oh my GOD Jon fuck me harder ... I need it ... I need that cum baby ... give it to me ... we never need to tell Mrs. Lewis ... never need to tell Rebecca ... PLEASE I NEED IT ..."

I grunted to myself and froze. For a second -- no -- I'm sure I imagined it -- it was almost like her rhythm faltered as I grunted. It was impossible. The shower was too loud on the other side of the wall. There was no way she could hear anything. Certainly not with all the noise she was making herself. As she gradually picked up her tirade again, I breathed a sigh of relief and started thrusting into my fist once more.

"Jonnnnn that cockkkkk ... dadddyyyyy ... it's SO good ... yessssss ... does that cock feel good in my tight littke cunt? ... yeahhhhh I KNOWWWwwww ... I want it to feel good ... I want ... oh fuckkk ... I want ... you ... JONNNnn ... mmmmdaddyyyy ... I want to ... want youuuu ... to ... cummmmm ... cum in meeee ... I'll ... PLEASE ... anything ... I need it ... JON cum in meeee ... I'll ... say ...it's not yours ... we never need ... to tell ... daddyyyy PLEASE knock me UPPPpppp ..."

The only one of Emily's fantasies that had not yet made it into our bedroom was the bareback, risky sex that she so often described in detail as she got off. But here it was. This was not the first time I'd heard her work through it as she got off, but it was certainly the first time it involved me.

Personally, I had never really been into risky sex. Megan and I still used condoms every time we has intercourse -- honestly I couldn't even remember what sex without a condom felt like at this point, it was just so second nature. For Megan, it was about the cleanup, the un-sexy logistics that one must grapple with once the moments of passion were over. For me, honestly, it helped me last longer. While it had been years since my last bareback night with Megan, when we were dating it was a question of 30 seconds without a condom or 30 minutes with one. I never got the argument that condoms felt worse -- sure the sensation was blunted, but I'd rather try a few positions and feel Megan orgasm around my shaft than see the disappointment behind her eyes after I pulled out and painted her stomach or back after a handful of thrusts. Plus, to be totally honest, having a kid that young just took the wind out of our sails when it came to "risky" sex. We risked it. We paid the price. Even though Rebecca was the best thing to ever happen to us -- and no amount of "empty nest" fun would change that -- there was a reason we only had one kid.

But here I was, thrusting into my hand, listening to a beautiful young girl beg for my load in her unprotected womb. I let my head fall back and pictured Emily in her entirety. Her ass was level with my cock. Her cunt was gripping it as I slid in and out of her. My hands hooked over the crease of her hips and thighs as she bent over for me. Her wet breasts streamed water as the swung back and forth with the impact of my hips into her. She was looking back at me, her green eyes wide, shining, begging for me to unload inside her.

"Jon... PLEASE ... cummm ... in me ... knock me UPPppp dadddyyyyy PLEASE ...I'm ... oh daddy I ... I'm ... gonna ... on your COCK daddyyy ... cum with meeeeeeFUCKKKkkyeESSSS ..."