I would like to say that I was overwhelmed with guilt over the way I let Harry manipulate me into cumming, but it would be a lie. As soon as Kristin arrived home that evening, I took her to the bedroom. I started kissing her without letting her even greet me or tell me about her day, and her body responded easily to my familiar touch. I pushed her onto the bed, eager to make her cum the way her father had just made me, eager to cum again myself. I was parched from laying out in the sun, and only Kristin's precious cunt would quench my thirst.

It belonged to me, her cunt. She was a virgin when I met her. I was far from it, and I taught her everything she knows. It was love- or lust- at first sight for me. With her blonde hair and massive tits, she looked like a porn star. Soon enough, I taught her how to fuck like one, too.

I ate her pussy that night as if it was the elixir to life flowing out of her, covering my face and my taste buds with it. She tasted so fucking good that I could believe that it was. My favourite thing to do was make her squirt. Moving my fingers expertly inside her, hitting her g-spot, she gripped the pillow, low animal moans escaping her plump pink lips.

I wanted those lips on my own cunt, but was focused on my task. Her sticky-sweet juices coated my fingers, making it easy to keep pumping deep inside her, the walls of her vagina contracting and relaxing around me as I ploughed into her hard enough for the bed to quake under our weight.

Then she came, and gushed forth like a geyser, soaking the bed with her magical elixir. I lapped up all that I could. She grabbed the back of my auburn hair, pulling me up to give her a deep kiss on the mouth.

"God, I taste good," she breathed heavily.

"Mmm, so do I," I hinted, my own arousal making me thrust my hips into the bed desperately.

"Mmhmm, I know," she pinched my already hard nipple playfully, "What's made you so fucking horny, Lily?"

"You," I lied, "You made me so fucking horny. I was lying out by the pool earlier and my pussy got so so wet thinking about fucking you,"

"Did you make yourself cum?"

I nodded, trying not to remember the feeling of her father's hand around my neck.

"Good girl." She said it in the exact same tone as Harry had earlier, making me even more desperate for her. Her kisses trailed down my body, lingering on my tits, sucking my already tortured nipples, before finally reaching my pussy. I wondered if her father's tongue would feel as good as hers did. I arched my back, already close to exploding, as I thought about how good his cock would feel inside me. It had been a long time since I'd had a real one, warm and hard and deep inside me.

I wondered, too, if he could hear me right now, moaning his daughter's name. I wondered if he was masturbating to it, to me, to us. And that thought was enough to make me cum, all over his precious daughter's pretty face.

She didn't stop, quickly making me cum a second and third time, each orgasm louder than the last, until I was sure that me getting fucked would be heard even by the profoundly deaf. I wasn't normally the loud one, but I wanted to torture Harry the way that he had tortured me. I wanted to make myself even more irresistible than I knew I was. I didn't know, then, if he was actually going to follow through on coming in and fucking me himself. But I wanted him to, although I knew it would destroy Kristin if she ever found out. Knowing that I could never tell her, when until now I had given all of myself to her, turned me on even more.


The next morning, I woke up alone. Kristin always got up early to go for a run, while I preferred to exercise in... more creative ways. I showered in her en suite and pulled her bathrobe on. The material was thin enough to be suggestive, but just thick enough that I couldn't be accused of indecent exposure. Not that I had anything decent on my mind, which was still racing from yesterday. I went down to the kitchen to get breakfast, and found Harry reading his newspaper at the counter. He looked up briefly, but didn't linger. Still, it was enough to make my heart race. He looked good in the morning, his hair slightly tousled, the top button of his shirt undone to reveal a small patch of dark hair against his strong, tanned chest.

"Good morning, Lily," he said coolly, casually, as if yesterday nothing happened.

"Morning, Harry."

"I enjoyed your performance last night. I'm assuming it was for my benefit as much as yours." His tone didn't waver, didn't indicate any kind of emotion. I tried to think of a witty response that didn't betray the fact that I was freaking out, but found myself silenced by his strong gaze once again, this time over the top of his reading glasses. "I have to admit, it made me hard. Harder than I've been in a long time."

"Can I help you with that?" I asked, walking closer to him.

"Don't ask me that while you're wearing my daughter's bathrobe."

I let it fall to the ground. "Is that better? May I ask again now?"

"What you can do is get on your knees, you cheeky little slut."

I obliged, falling easily to my knees. I was a little nervous, I was kind of out of practice with sucking cock. But any anxiety I felt was washed away and replaced with lustful hunger as he pulled his slacks down, finally revealing the gloriously hard cock I'd been fantasising about. It was bigger than I'd even imagined. My mouth watered and he closed the gap between us, forcing it into my closed mouth, making me gag as my throat struggled to accommodate the thickness of it.

He withdrew, pearls of spit and precum dangling in the air before slapping me on the chin along with his balls as he thrust in again, holding the back of my head in place so I couldn't move away, gagging and spitting all over him. Holding my hair in a ponytail, he fucked my mouth. I was a passive participant, allowing him to use me as he pleased, allowing him to pull my hair and bruise my throat as much as he wanted for a chance of tasting his cum. My knees pressed uncomfortably into the hard kitchen floor. I wondered for a moment if they'd bruise too, if that would be the sign that gave us away to Kristin. But the thought of being bruised by him just made me suck harder.

Then we heard it—a key in the lock. Kristin. Back from her run. He pushed me off of him and quickly pushed his erection back into his pants. I scrambled to find the bathrobe, strewn on the floor. I was still on my knees as Harry grabbed my face, holding it up to the light. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead, he wiped my mouth with a handkerchief and pulled me to standing.

"Not a fucking word," he hissed in my ear before shoving me away from him, just in time for Kristin to walk through the door.

"It smells weird in here," she said, but then shook her head. "Good morning, guys."

"Good morning, sweetheart," Harry replied, as calmly and coolly as he had greeted me.

"I'm gonna go shower," Kristin said, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl and exiting as quickly as she had come in.

We stood in silence until we heard the shower start running.

"Get back on your knees," Harry commanded, but added, softly, "Please."

"Well, since you said please," I teased, dropping back onto the floor, once again discarding the bathrobe, not wanting it to gather forensic evidence of our affair.

"Don't fucking speak."

"Put my mouth to better use, then."

He chuckled, gathering my hair in his fist again, pulling it back so I was forced to meet his eyes. Any bratty defiance left my body at his strong gaze. I fell back into my role as his fuck toy, letting him thrust his cock even deeper this time, making drool run down my chin and onto my bare tits, which bounced with every thrust. He was close to cumming, I could tell by his quickening pace, his thrusts less controlled and more animal.

He groaned, slamming his cock as far as it would go into my throat, his stomach pressing against my nose, making it impossible to breathe, my eyes tearing up as thick syrupy ropes of cum bypassed my tongue and shot straight into the back of my throat. I gagged and sputtered, but he held my head in place until I was sure I would pass out.

At the last second, he withdrew, my spit glistening against the contours of his softening cock. Desperate, I leaned forward and licked the last few pearls of cum off of the tip of his dick, which throbbed against the touch of my tongue. He chuckled again.

"You're fucking insatiable, Lily," he panted, still catching his breath, his hand now gently stroking the top of my head that seconds ago he had been holding forcefully. He pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket again, this time using it to wipe my spit from his cock before cleaning up my face. "If you eat pussy the way you suck cock, I understand what my daughter sees in you. Despite the obvious fact that you're fucking gorgeous, I mean."

He helped me up from my knees, this time by a gentle hand under my arm rather than under my chin, and kissed me on the cheek again. I shocked myself by being the one to grab his face this time, turning it so that I could kiss him properly for the first time. It's funny, in hindsight, that that was our first proper kiss given that we'd both made each other orgasm. But, with my naked little body pressed into his strong embrace, his cum still on my chest, traces of my spit still on his cock, we kissed properly. And it was far more confusing than the orgasms had been.