It had been hot all afternoon, and the pool party at Dani's family's house was a lot of fun. Their backyard was full—music thumping low through hidden speakers, the scent of barbecue thick in the air, a few friends, some half-buzzed and lounging in wet swimsuits or in the pool. I’d been in the water most of the day, stretching out across a float with a soda in hand, or climbing in and out of the pool to feel the air hit my skin.

I knew what I looked like.

Tiny bikini. Thong bottoms. A triangle top barely covering my nipples. At barely five feet tall and 97 pounds, everything I wore looked like it was painted on—and I liked that. I’d Dani's father and others looking my way—more than once. Her dad wasn’t shy about it either.

Fifty. Broad shoulders, soft middle, a dad bod that filled out his t-shirt just enough to be tempting. Salt-and-pepper hair, deep voice, and thick, calloused hands. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone—just confident, quiet, and relaxed. Which only made me wonder what he and Dani's mom was like behind closed doors.

Around sunset, I slipped into the house barefoot, my skin hot from the sun, and headed to the fridge for water. The kitchen was quiet. I bent over to open the lower door, head ducked deep inside, moving bottles around with a hand.

That’s when I felt it.

Two fingers. Thick. Slow. Just a subtle drag right across the curve of my ass—bare skin peeking out from my thong. It wasn’t rushed. Just enough to feel deliberate. I jolted slightly, stood, and turned.

There stood Dani's dad behind me, way too close. Holding a beer, looking amused.

“You okay?” he asked, calm, like nothing had happened.

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to play it off. “I’m fine. Just thirsty.”

His eyes dipped. Not to the bottle. But to the space between my thighs, where the fabric of my suit had shifted just enough. “You must love the attention you get. You’ve been driving the guys crazy all day in that little thing.”

I popped the bottle open and leaned against the counter, letting my chest push forward slightly. “Yeah? I didn’t notice anyone complaining.”

He grinned, took a sip of his beer. “They were ALL looking you over.”

The way he looked at me then—like he wanted to know what I tasted like, felt like—made my legs weak. His gaze trailed down again, slowly, and I didn’t move to fix my suit.

Instead, I turned and walked away, hips swaying a little more deliberately as I called over my shoulder, “You coming back out?”

A pause. “In a minute.”

The party died down between nine and ten. One by one, people peeled off—hugging, waving, and disappearing into the night. A few called an Uber, and someone was curled up on a lounger outside. I was staying in the guest room like always. I was still a little damp and needed a shower. 

After a quick shower and mostly drying my hair, I sat on the bed, legs crossed, scrolling my phone lazily, wearing a short, light white t-shirt.

I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about him.

His touch earlier hadn’t been innocent. And neither was the way he’d looked at me all day. I kept picturing those two fingers grazing the curve of my ass. The size of his hand. The way his eyes lingered low every time I passed him.

I needed water again. And maybe an excuse to move.

I padded barefoot up the stairs, still in my too-short t-shirt. Lights were low. I opened the fridge quietly. As I stood there, grabbing another bottle, I heard a soft voice behind me.

“Still can’t sleep?”

I turned. Rick. In just a pair of loose sleep shorts, no shirt. His chest was broad, a little hairy, stomach soft but solid. He looked like someone you could sink into. And those eyes—half-lidded, lazy, but locked on my chest. The t-shirt I wore was old and somewhat see-through, my nipples visibly poking through the thin fabric.

“Just thirsty,” I said, voice lower than I meant. “Needed something to drink.”

His eyes didn’t move. “You’ve been hot all day.”

The way he said it made my thighs clench again. I opened the bottle, took a slow sip, watching him.

“Did you enjoy the view?” I asked.

He didn’t blink. “All day.”

I swallowed hard. “And now?”

He stepped closer. Just a foot away. The air between us felt like it vibrated.

“Now I see your t-shirt is too short to cover your lower half, and I can see right through it as well.”

I felt my whole body pulse at his words. I didn’t respond. I turned slowly and walked away, letting him get a nice, long look at my bare butt. I walked down the stairs and back to the guest room.

I didn’t shut the door completely.

I sat on the bed, legs crossed, and continued scrolling through my phone. The lights were off, but the hall light poured a soft glow through the crack in the open door.

A few minutes later, I heard someone. The soft creak of the steps. The sound of the door easing open. Then his silhouette—broad, familiar, stepping inside.

He shut the door behind him. Locked it.

Neither of us said a word.

He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at me. I could feel the heat in his body already. I didn’t move. I let him look. My chest rising with each breath, doing nothing to hide my nipples poking out through my t-shirt. With my shirt being too short and my legs being crossed, he could see my smooth, bare pussy calling his name.

He came down on one knee at the edge of the bed. Large hands slid up my legs, starting at my knees, then dragging slowly up my thighs.

“I’ve wanted to feel you like this all day,” he said, voice low, thick with hunger.

His fingers reached between my thighs, sloftly gliding across my pussy. His fingers were slowly circling my labia. With two fingers, he parted my lips and slowly slipped one through my already wet slit.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Look at you…”

He didn’t wait. He climbed onto the bed, grabbed my ankles, and yanked me toward him. I fell back, head hitting the pillow, legs spread, watching as he settled between my thighs—and buried his face in me like he couldn’t get close enough.

I gasped—his tongue was wide, slow at first, dragging from my asshole to my clit, tasting everything. Then again. And again. He gripped my thighs with both hands, spreading me wide, his mouth devouring me like he was starving. The scratch of his beard against the soft skin of my inner thighs made me whimper, hips rolling into his face, chasing every stroke of his tongue.

His tongue slid inside me, thick and wet. Then he sucked on my clit, hard enough to make my back arch. I gripped the sheets, gasping, toes curling. The way he held me—firm, greedy—like he was addicted and I was his fix.

“God,” I whispered, “don’t stop…”

He didn’t. He spent just as much time eating my ass as he did my pussy, and I loved every second of it!

  One hand snuck up under my t-shirt, cupping my breast, fingers pinching and rolling my nipple between them while his mouth stayed locked on my pussy. The contrast of sensations was too much—too good. My thighs tensed around his head, my stomach knotted tight, and I came with a soft, breathy whimper. I rocked my hips into his face, silently begging: More.

  His mouth was relentless—tongue sliding through every slick fold, circling my clit with slow, maddening precision before dipping lower again. He licked my pussy like he owned it, then dragged his tongue back to my ass, wet and in need of more, swirling and teasing until my whole body arched off the bed. I moaned louder this time, thighs twitching around his head as another orgasm ripped through me. He didn’t stop. He just held me open and kept licking, kept sucking on my lips, until I came again—shaking, breathless, begging into the pillow.  

When he came up for air, it was my turn. He stood slowly, towering over me now, chest rising with heavy breaths. His shorts hit the floor—and there it was.

Jesus.

His cock was bigger than I expected. Long, thick, his very large balls hanging low… and hard.

My lips parted without meaning to, breath catching in my throat. Veins ran the length of the shaft, the flushed head already slick and swollen, curving slightly toward his belly like it was too full to stay still. I couldn’t even speak—I just stared, legs still spread, dripping and aching for it.

I got out of bed and dropped to my knees. The head of his cock hovered just inches from my mouth, big and proud. I opened wide and took him in—lips wrapping around the thick crown, tongue swirling under the head as I sucked slowly, letting the taste of him fill my mouth.

"Good girl" he groaned, voice low and rough as he held my head with both of his large hands. He didn’t shove—he guided. Smooth, steady, pushing his cock deeper with every pass. My mouth stretched around him, spit slicking his shaft as I took more, letting him slide across my tongue and nudge the back of my throat.

I moaned around him, eyes fluttering shut as I continued to take all he had to give. His grip tightened, hips rolling just a little, feeding me more. I could feel his balls sway near my chin, smell the clean sweat and musk of him. I opened wider, let my throat relax, taking him in deep until his head turned the corner, being driven into my throat—and he groaned, like he loved the sound.

He pulled back just enough to let me breathe, then pressed forward again, slow and firm. I looked up at him, lips wrapped tight around his cock, tongue working under the thick shaft, and he was watching me—jaw clenched, eyes filled with lust.

“You’re fucking perfect like this,” he growled, cock sliding in and out of my mouth like it belonged there.

He was at the point that he wanted—needed—something more. He wanted in my tiny, tight, little body.

“What do you think? Ready for me to fuck your goddamn brains out?”

I smirked up at him, lips parted. “I wasn’t sure what was taking you so long.”

His eyes darkened. “Careful what you ask for, little one. I might give you more than you’re ready for.”

Both of us got up on the bed, and I lay back on the pillow, heart thudding, body aching. He crawled over me—warm, solid, heavy—pressing my thighs open with his own, settling between them like he belonged there.

His cock dragged slowly along my slit, gliding through my pussy lips, rubbing right over my clit and sliding down again. Just teasing. Just letting me feel him. I whimpered, lifting my hips, chasing that first thrust.

Then he pushed in.

Slow. Steady. Unrelenting.

The head of his cock stretched me open, inch by inch, splitting me deliciously. My breath caught as he sank deeper, my pussy clenching tight around him, already struggling to take all of it.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hands gripping my thighs. “You feel that? So tight… Jesus.”

I couldn’t answer. My nails curled into the blankets, eyes fluttering as he bottomed out—full length inside me, filling me so completely it made my toes curl.

He stayed still for a second, letting me feel it, letting him soak inside of me.

Then he pulled back.

And slammed in.

Hard.

I let out a “YIP!”—sharp, helpless—and slapped my hands over my mouth. I did not need to wake my friend sleeping just down the hall.

He grinned when he heard it. “Too much?” he whispered, still grinding his hips into me.

I shook my head, wide-eyed, barely able to breathe. I tried to wrap my legs around his waist, to pull him deeper, tighter—but with my short little legs, the best I could do was hook my heels against his sides, holding him there, needing every inch.

His rhythm started slow—long, deep strokes, hips pressing flush to mine on every thrust. My boobs bounced softly with each motion, nipples grazing his chest, so sensitive it made me squirm. Then his mouth dipped lower—his lips trailing down my neck, over my collarbone, until he found my tiny, rock-hard nipples.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth, hard and greedy, tongue flicking and teeth teasing, and I had to bite down on my knuckle to keep from moaning out loud. His cock kept sliding in and out of me with that steady, maddening rhythm, every thrust pushing a little grunt out of his chest, every pull dragging a shaky breath from mine.

“Keep quiet,” he murmured, mouth still on my tit. “I don't need my daughter hearing us!”

I gasped, my fingernails dragging down his back as his pace turned brutal. His hips slammed into me harder now, the sharp smack of skin on skin echoing through the room, bouncing off the walls like a dirty secret.

“I’ve wanted this all fucking day,” he growled, voice rough in my ear.

He drove into me harder. Faster. My thighs started to shake again, the pressure building fast, my moans louder now—fuck whoever was asleep in the house. I didn’t care. I was gone. My orgasm hit like a wave crashing down, my pussy clenching around him so hard it made his rhythm falter.

He slammed deep, bottoming out, holding there—thick and throbbing.

“I’m cumming,” he groaned. “Fffuuuccckk…”

“Do it,” I panted, eyes wild. “Fucking nutt in me.”

With a deep, guttural grunt, he drove into me hard one last time and stayed there. His cock swelled, then jerked—once, twice—then he unloaded.

Shot after heavy shot blasted out of the head of his cock. Relentless. Almost ruthless!

Thick spurts flooded into me, each twitch sending another pulse of cum deep inside. I felt it—every shot. Splashing off my walls, coating my insides. Hell, I swear he shot straight into my womb, like he wanted to breed me!

My legs trembled as he groaned into my neck, cock still twitching inside me, both of us breathing hard, stuck together like we were one.

He pulled out slowly, his cock still half-hard, glistening with a mix of both of us. Without a word, he flipped me over onto my stomach. I didn’t even resist. He nudged my thighs apart with his knees, hands gripping the sides of my hips as I lay flat beneath him, cheek pressed to the pillow, heart pounding.

I felt his cock—still slick with cum and pussy juice—drag up between my thighs, heavy and warm. He rocked it there for a second, letting me feel the length of it against my skin. Then lower… lower… until the thick head slid right between my cheeks.

I sucked in a breath. “You sure you want it there already?”

He growled low, voice rough and full of pure animalistic lust. “Why wouldn’t I? I want in your ass now.”

I shivered—completely at his mercy.

He spit into his hand and reached down, rubbing it over his shaft, getting it wetter. Then he brought that same hand between my cheeks, spreading the spit over my tight little brown butthole, slow and deliberate. His thumb circled it first, teasing, slicking it up before gently pressing in—just the tip. I gasped when it popped in, my ass tightening around him instinctively.

“God, you’re so fucking small…” he muttered behind me, his voice broken. “Your ass is so tiny.”

I reached back with one hand and pulled one cheek open for him, giving him a better view. “Take it,” I whispered. “Just… go slow.”

He did.

The fat, wet head of his cock continued to push into me, stretching me slowly. I felt the pressure build—sharp, intense, overwhelming. My mouth dropped open as I exhaled, letting it happen. little by little, he slid into me, careful but firm, holding my hips still while I tried not to tense up.

Then with one deep, steady push… POP—the head slipped into my asshole. He continued to push, slowly, until his hips were pressed tightly to my ass cheeks.

I gasped, face buried in the pillow. He was inside me. All the way. His big cock filled my ass like I’d never felt before, and he didn’t stop until he was balls-deep, buried completely.

Once he was in my ass, he stayed still. Letting me breathe. Letting me feel it. Letting my tight little ass adjust to him being inside of it.

He exhaled above me, slow and shaky. His cock deep inside, thick, hot, and pulsing against the tight grip of my asshole. I lay there flat, cheek pressed to the pillow, ass full and stretched, trying to relax. Trying to hold it.

Then he started to move.

Short, shallow thrusts at first—just enough to let me feel every inch drag against my walls, every ridge and vein sliding in and out. My whole body jolted against the mattress with each pump. I gripped the sheets tighter, panting into the pillow, my toes curling, every nerve lit up and on fire.

His hand slid up my back, firm and commanding, pressing down between my shoulder blades to hold me in place.

“Fuck…” he growled, voice low and gritty. “Your ass is so fucking tight… it’s squeezing the life out of me.”

I whimpered for him, ass clenching reflexively around the thick stretch of his cock. Every time he bottomed out, I YIPPED. I could feel his balls slap softly against me. The rhythm built—harder now, deeper. Not rushed. Focused. Like he wanted to savor it.

He started to fuck me.

Really fuck me.

Long, powerful thrusts—his hips driving forward, cock slamming deep and pulling back just enough to build that ache again before stuffing me full. I could feel his belly brush against my lower back, feel the flex of his thighs against mine as he took what he wanted from me.

His breathing turned rough. So did mine. I moaned, muffling it the best I could, but not caring if it got out. I was dripping onto the sheets, pussy soaked and leaking, rocking forward with every thrust into my ass.

He leaned over me, lips grazing my ear. “You hear that?” he whispered, voice shaking. “That sound of me fucking your little ass? You’re making it talk for me, baby.”

I whimpered, burying my face in the pillow. “Please… don’t stop…”

“I’m not,” he grunted, slamming harder. “Not until I fill this tight little hole.”

His hand slid under me, fingers finding my clit—wet, swollen, and aching. He rubbed in fast, messy circles while he fucked my ass from behind, hips snapping harder now, thighs slapping against mine with each deep thrust.

My whole body was buzzing. Something was building—fast. It coiled low in my belly and spread like wildfire, until suddenly everything tightened, then exploded. My body shook uncontrollably.

What the fuck is happening?

I couldn’t control it. My muscles spasmed, shaking like I was freezing, hit with full-body shivers. My breath came in ragged gasps, my vision blurry, and yet it felt so damn good.

Something felt… different.

Then it hit me.

My eyes flew wide. Wait… what was that?

I pushed up just a little, breathless and dazed. Oh my God—did I…

I turned my head, looking back at him over my shoulder, stunned, lips parted.

“I DID.”

I let out a shaky laugh, still twitching. “I just had my first anal orgasm!”

He smirked, smug as hell, eyes locked on the way my body trembled beneath him.

“Damn right you did,” he muttered, voice low and thick. “Something you will never forget and always pray for.”

He continued to plow me like a snowy road in the mountains—deep, rough, relentless.

“Oh god, I’m—I’m gonna cum…” he growled. “I’m not gonna last…”

“Do it,” I gasped. “Cum in it. Fill my intestines. I want to feel you shoot into my guts!”

He groaned loudly, right against my neck, and slammed in deep one last time. His cock twitched, buried to the hilt. Then I felt it.

He came hard—deep inside me—his load spilling into my ass in huge, heavy spurts. I could feel it, hot and thick, painting my insides while he stayed buried, cock still pumping cum into me, both of us gasping for air.

When he finally pulled out—slow, careful—I let out a shaky breath. The head of his cock slipped free from my gaping asshole with a wet pop, and my body instantly relaxed, sinking into the mattress. My asshole throbbed in time with my heartbeat, raw and full and sore.

He flopped down next to me, panting like he’d just run a marathon.

We looked at each other, stunned, sweaty, used.

“I—Jesus—that was…” he mumbled, catching his breath, “…holy fuck.”

We lay there for a while, not saying much of anything. Just letting our bodies cool down, catching our breath, hearts racing but slowly settling. It wasn’t until the fog lifted that our brains started stringing words together.

Neither of us had ever expected this to happen.

And then—just when I thought we were done—he turned his head toward me and grinned.

“So,” he said, still breathless. “How about one more round?”

“One more round?!” I gasped, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said, shifting onto his elbow. “We need to complete the trifecta.”

I blinked. “The what?”

He smirked. “So far, you’ve taken one load in your pussy… and a second one up your ass. Might as well put the next one in your mouth. Fill that pretty little tummy too.”

Before I could respond, he rolled me over again and straddled my chest.

His cock—still glistening with slick and both previous loads—hung heavy and half-hard just inches from my lips, flushed and swollen, dripping at the tip.

He looked down at me with a hungry gleam in his eyes, voice thick and rough.

“Clean me up.”

Having done ATM a few times before, I opened wide without hesitation. He slid into my mouth, and I sucked him deep, tasting everything—my spit, his cum, my own perverted arousal. The mix was obscene, and I moaned around his cock, tongue swirling, taking him as deep as I could while he held the back of my head, guiding every stroke.

He thickened again in my mouth—slowly this time.

“Don’t stop, you dirty little bitch,” he growled. “You need to make me cum. One. More. Time.”

I sucked harder. Faster. My mouth stretched wide, drool spilling freely down my chin and cheeks.

When he needed to give my mouth a break, he pulled back and laid his cock between my small, soft tits. I mashed them together around him, letting him thrust through the warm valley of my boobs. I never really understood the point of tit-fucking—but guys always seemed to love it.

When he slid back into my mouth, I welcomed him with my lips parted and tongue ready. He groaned, pumping his hips, face tight with focus—until suddenly he gasped and held still.

And then he came.

His third load—less than the first two, but still hot, still thick—spilled onto my tongue in slow, steady ropes. I held it there, collected it all, and swallowed it.

When I finally let him go, his cock slipped free from my mouth with a wet pop. He was panting above me, sweat beading on his chest. He ran a hand through my hair, then leaned down and kissed my lips—a soft, simple peck.

Then—without a word—he stood, pulled his shorts back on, and left.

I lay there, sore and used, cum still dripping from my pussy, feeling my heartbeat in my asshole, mouth tingling, chest messy with both of our spit.

The door clicked shut.

And in the dark… I smiled to myself.