Playing with Daddy Pt. 02

Author's Note: This aspect of the trilogy is for those who enjoy fantasy Domme Daughter/Sub Daddy fetishes. If that's your kink, I hope you appreciate the sexually explicit encounters that take place in this fictional, alternative-lifestyle story.

I thank Literotica editor Roftlheory for her valuable feedback.

****

Smiling, Ashley entered the bathroom and hugged her mother.

"Thanks, Mom. Whew, what satisfying orgasms! Now, that's the way to start my day. Daddy is talented," Ashley acknowledged her father's expertise.

"He should be. He's had lots of practice the last couple of months," Margaret sarcastically replied.

Ashley used a towel in her mother's bathroom to clean up the mess in her kitty while her mother applied her lipstick. As if nothing had happened, the girl pulled down the front of her skirt and straightened it. She then combed her chestnut brown hair.

Margaret glanced at her daughter before she attempted to leave the bathroom. Her appearance wasn't quite right. The girl's skirt was shorter than allowed at her school, and Ashley's blouse showed excessive cleavage - nothing new there. Yet, there was something else that bothered the older woman. It suddenly came to her. Ashley's panty lines, usually present under her miniskirt, were gone. Her ass cheeks also jingled more than usual when she moved.

"Wait a minute, young lady. Where are your underpants? You know better. I won't have a slut for a daughter. Get them on, and I'm not talking about the skimpy thong hidden in your bedroom dresser," Margaret reprimanded the girl.

"No daughter of mine goes to school without conservative lily-white briefs, especially with a miniskirt. I assume you're considering flashing the boys and teachers, but I won't have it. I'm not kidding," Margaret continued her rant.

"Oh, Mom, all my girlfriends do it. We like turning on the boys and seeing the bulges in their pants when they roam the school's corridors in their aroused states. There's no harm in some teasing and flirting. I bet you did it when you were my age," Ashley attempted to justify her no-panties position.

Even though her daughter's retort was accurate, Margaret wasn't going to take any lip from the teenager. Margaret intended to play with her favorite intern this morning. Because she was behind schedule, the MILF stopped applying her makeup. Instead, she gave Ashley an intimidating glare.

"Alright, you win," Ashley conceded.

She begrudgingly walked back to her father's side of the bed to recover her panties that were lying on the floor.

"I'm leaving for school, Daddy. Give me a goodbye kiss," Ashley requested.

Once again, she pulled up the front of her skirt and leaned over him. Smiling Ashley gave the thumb-up sign to her mother when her father's mouth contacted her twat.

"How kinky. Who else says farewell to her father that way?" Margaret marveled. "I can't stay mad at my 'Baby' after viewing her dominance. I should do the same to remind Hal of his subordinate position in this family."

Margaret looked at her watch. It was now 7:15 am. Amazingly, Ashley had gotten off twice in ten minutes. Margaret had to give Hal his dues. He was talented at eating pussy. Maybe she would let him dine at the 'vadge' tonight. It would be packed to the brim when she left work after being fucked bareback by another intern in the late afternoon. Margaret always enjoyed an orgasm before bed, as long as she didn't have to reciprocate.

"Your bus will arrive shortly. Don't miss it. I can't drive you to school. I'm late. I'll be home around seven. What are your plans after school?" Margaret grilled the teenager.

"Emily's stopping by to help me with my math coursework. I'm behind, and we have a big algebra exam tomorrow," Ashley informed her mother.

"How long will she be tutoring you?" Margaret continued her dialogue. She hadn't anticipated Emily's after-school session with her daughter.

****

Emily Smith was the wallflower poster girl in Ashley's high school. She was a prim and proper, stereotypical, well-behaved, goody-goody, socially awkward nerd. Emily had a pleasant personality and was to become the school's valedictorian. Nevertheless, her classmates wouldn't accept her.

Ashley and her snotty friends were jealous of Emily's intelligence. The mean-spirited schoolgirls teased Emily by calling her a 'pathetic dud' behind her back. They laughed and made fun of her repeatedly. No boy dared to ask their shunned classmate for a date because they feared Ashley's malicious clique might blackball them.

The geeky girl was cute and possessed a curvy body with a nice ass, but her short stature and shyness counterbalanced her desirable physical features. The latter contributed to her inability to attract any boy she fancied. Emily's glasses added to her standoffish, aloof façade.

Because her parents were poor, Emily wore dull, hand-me-down clothes. She didn't have a single stylish outfit. Jewelry and other nonessential accessories were out of the question. As a result, she didn't fit in with her more affluent classmates. She rarely entered their radar screens.

Emily said nothing to her parents about her setbacks and insecurities regarding boys. Nevertheless, she was devastated, knowing all the other kids in her senior class were attending the school prom this weekend.

To put her down, snobby Ashley and her malicious gang told Emily that they had lined up their prom dates months ago. It was the last big social event before their high school graduation. She missed the junior prom. Nothing had changed in a year.

Even Selma Lopez was attending the big event. Selma was so luscious she couldn't find an off-the-shelf prom dress that fit her. Nevertheless, that wardrobe setback wouldn't prevent the Puerto Rican from attending the big shindig. She let it be known she'd wear her birthday suit if she had to.

Selma was skilled at twerking, and the ground tremored when she shook her cheesy 50+ inch booty, pendulous bazooms, and big belly. Many of the most desirable guys at school asked the hood rat to the big event, apparently imagining her spandex outfit bursting into a million pieces during one of her twerks.

They probably also wondered what it would feel like to get ass and tit slapped by Selma once she got drunk.

Selma was into smothering, and she liked to crush those boys she forced to eat her meaty twat from below.

"Selma resembles the cartoon figure 'Porky Pig'. To persuade Selma to have sex, all a horny guy has to do is show up with a large cheese pizza. Her rug is so thick that a considerable amount of her pubic hair usually protrudes outside of her bikini bottom when she lounges at the beach. Selma obviously doesn't believe in grooming the forest between her legs," Emily critiqued her classmate.

"If Selma can get invited to the prom, why can't I? Go figure. When am I going to lose my virginity? All I ask for is occasional intimacy with a member of the opposite sex. Is that too much to ask?" Emily questioned the 'Almighty'.

"I'm not fussy about who does me the first time. Must I spell it out to the boys at school that I would put out? Aren't I good enough for at least mercy sex?" Emily despaired.

Despite the lack of a boyfriend, Emily's libido was impressive. No one guessed she was multi-orgasmic. Emily masturbated to her favorite age-play porn she downloaded from the internet whenever she could. The nastier and raunchier, the better. She had already burned out two 'Hitachi Magic Wands' in her bedroom this year.

Unbeknownst to others, Emily had a dark side. Despite her outward goody-to-shoes persona, she often visualized being the center of attention in an extreme gangbang where out-of-shape, beer-bellied, cigar-smoking, hairy, perverted Daddies fucked her mouth, cunt, and ass bareback for hours.

Pillow Princess Emily just laid on her bed during these imagined gangbangs, receiving one orgasm after another. Emily had no limits, and she encouraged her fuckers to use her as they desired for as long as they wanted.

Her abusers got a kick out of telling their plaything what a splendid breeder she was after impregnating her. Emily usually got off imagining the conclusion of these gangbangs when their creamy loads oozed out of her holes onto the bed. She dreamed of being tied up and forced to sleep in the resulting pool of Daddy jizz after the old farts were done with their trailer-trash tramp.

Her parents, teachers, and classmates would be shocked if they knew what went on in Emily's depraved mind. Except for her stunned priest, who was obligated to listen to her weekly confessions, no one knew the school's leading student was into extreme Daddy Dom/Little Girl kink.

Emily didn't know it, but her priest often masturbated in real-time on the other side of the screen when Emily graphically described her perversions.

When Emily overheard Ashley in the school's lavatory confide to one of her girlfriends about how often her father orally pleasured her, Emily realized there was a way to get sexual relief from a talented, good-looking man regularly. It was then that she hatched her devious plan.

"I want an attractive man like Ashley's father to eat me. Why waste my time on an inexperienced, selfish, shallow, pimple-faced boy who has no idea how to get me off? A rushed fuck-and-go with a quick-shooter isn't for me," Emily decided.

"I seek a talented Daddy who can take his time and get it right. I want an experienced, take-charge senior with a good imagination for wicked age-play sex. My dominant man will love and protect me," Emily also hoped.

Putting her plan into motion, Emily waited until Ashley received a poor grade on an algebra exam, thereby jeopardizing her chances of getting a college scholarship. On that fateful day, Emily approached her classmate to ask the school's most popular student if she required one-on-one help in any of her courses.

Ashley and her inner circle of stuck-up girlfriends rarely talked to Emily. On most days, Ashley didn't know mousy Emily Smith existed. While taken aback by her unanticipated offer, Ashley appreciated Emily's willingness to become her tutor.

When Ashley asked how the school's best student sought to be compensated, she was surprised the girl didn't seek financial reward. Instead, she simply sought the use of Ashley's Dad.

The unorthodox contract finalized between the scheming girls was that Ashley's father had to munch on Emily's box until she had an orgasm at the end of each tutoring session. The agreed-upon price for an hour of tutoring was one orgasm. The number of additional orgasms she received depended on how many hours of help Ashley received.

Emily's pious parents were unaware of the kinky pact between the girls. If they realized what occurred, the shit would hit the fan, and Emily would be in serious trouble. They might even send her to a distant nunnery for those sinful Catholic girls.

In contrast, Margaret was aware of the tutoring contract. She approved because her daughter's grades were bound to improve. The end justified the means in Margaret's mind. After all, Emily was legal.

Hal wasn't consulted. Nevertheless, he had to pay the tutoring bill each day, whatever it was. His opinion didn't matter. If anything, Margaret enjoyed forcing her husband to alleviate Emily's sexual needs. Imposing her will on her detested partner was a power trip. She enjoyed putting him down whenever and wherever she could.

****

"Because of the upcoming midterm exam, Emily's giving me three hours of her time to help me ace my math test. She also plans to stop by tomorrow to tutor me in Spanish for another couple of hours. ¿Papá podrá manejar la tarea (Will Dad be able to handle the task)? Es mucho trabajo (It's a lot of work)," Ashley broke the news to her mami in Spanish.

Margaret bit her lip. Emily's session with her husband's talented mouth would be longer than usual. She feared he might not be up to the task. Having to satisfy the sexual needs of a beautiful girl in a brief facesit was one thing, even if she was his own daughter. Servicing a geeky teenager, he might not be attracted to for hours on sequential days was another matter.

"Okay, I'll inform your father what's required. He'll be here at five to pay the tutoring bill. He'll do whatever I tell him. Don't worry about the expense. Have a wonderful day at school. Just ace those upcoming exams."

"By the way, don't forget your underpants. I suspect you hoped I wouldn't remember them. Your attempt to distract me failed. I'm serious about your wardrobe gaffe," Margaret reminded her daughter. She then hugged Ashley for the last time.

"Which intern are you having fun with this afternoon at work? Is it that Ivy League Italian hunk? He's delicious," Ashley changed the subject.

"Why just one beefcake?" Margaret countered.

Ashley shook her head in admiration. "You're the best, Mom."

As soon as Margaret turned away, rebellious Ashley threw her panties in the bathroom hamper in defiance of her mother. She looked forward to flashing today now that her landing strip was groomed to perfection. Wasn't the chance to tease her classmates and teachers why she chose to wear a miniskirt?

****

Once Margaret finished applying her makeup, she got into her business suit and complementary high heels. She then approached her husband. He was lying naked on the bed, covered by a sheet. She informed him of the situation.

"Hal, Emily requires your attention this afternoon and then tomorrow. She's coming over to tutor Ashley. She'll be here another few hours tomorrow. You know the drill. Ashley's exams in math and Spanish are coming up. I expect spectacular grades on those tests. I anticipate you'll be at your best. Don't let Ashley, Emily, or me down," Margaret ordered.

"Be enthusiastic with Emily, even if she isn't your cup of tea. Fake it if you must. Remember, the poor girl can't get a date. Ashley said no one asked her to the senior prom. How pathetic, but I'm not surprised," Margaret let it be known her feelings about the girl.

"I'm leaving for work. I'll be home later than usual. I have a full day ahead of me. Somebody in this family must earn enough money to cover our living expenses," Margaret decided not to tell him the real reason she would be late.

Margaret made the spiteful comment because the impressive bulge under the sheet indicated he hoped for a blowjob incentive. It wasn't going to happen after she had spent so much time applying her makeup. Margaret wasn't going to come in contact with his spunk. There was no way a drop of his revolting man-goo would land on her. She was saving herself for Travis, the young intern who was waiting for her downtown. Travis had better be on his knees when she arrived, or there would be hell to pay.

"Fuck'n hell, make yourself useful around the house. I smell Ashley's orgasms on my sheets. Don't forget to change them," Margaret chastised her husband. She enjoyed belittling him and ordering the douchebag around.

"Uh-huh," Hal acknowledged.

Once his wife exited the room, Hal looked down at his rock-hard penis under the sheet. He was disappointed she wouldn't even give him a handjob, but he wasn't surprised by her reluctance. Margaret was late for work, and she lost interest in him a long time ago.

"I should wait until this evening to masturbate if I must get Emily off three times today and probably twice tomorrow. What a shitty dilemma. Son of a bitch, can it get any worse? What a helluva day ahead of me," miserable Hal voiced.

Frustrated, Hal sighed but accepted his fate. What choice did he have? He, therefore, got out of bed and dressed. On his nightstand was a sheet of paper with his chores. The list was long. Margaret showed no sympathy, considering what was expected of him today. He removed the dirty sheets and threw them in the washing machine.

****

While Hal was getting dressed, Margaret entered her Mercedes. She turned on its ignition and backed the car out of the driveway. Before entering the street for the drive to her office, Margaret checked herself out one last time using the car's rearview mirror.

She noticed three boys standing on the street corner just ahead of her. Although braless, Margaret unbuttoned her blouse, thereby exposing her ample breasts. She then pinched her nipples to make them more pronounced.

"What a tease. Dammit, you look FABULOUS. This new outfit is elegant, sophisticated, and sexy. It should be for its price. My shoes alone cost a grand. It's time for a delicious intern to earn my favor. Hearing Ashley's orgasms caused my engine to heat up. I'm ready for my first one of the day," the MILF decided. She looked forward to the start of her day.

Margaret worked out regularly to maintain her figure. Although she was forty, she appeared younger. As a result, women of comparable age often asked what her anti-aging secret was. She dismissed those inquiries, but the truth was that Margaret had a consultation with a voodoo priestess in New Orleans's French Quarter when she first started to worry about getting old.

When Margaret sought advice from the Creole woman on slowing down the aging process, she expected some type of blasphemous sorcery. She feared having to sell her soul to the devil to keep her good looks.

Margaret was surprised to learn she'd get younger simply by absorbing the life force of the one she was regularly screwing. The priestess informed Margaret that the situation was analogous to what happens when a fully charged battery brings a dead car back to life. The 'Reiki Energy - Transfer Process' is one of the reasons why seniors (both men and women) desire younger partners for sex.

From then on, Margaret believed every time one of her toy boys put his junk in her pussy, she got younger by stealing a portion of his life force during their coupling. Since Margaret enjoyed nookie from men in their twenties, there was no downside fucking as many of them as she could. Yet, if the information she received in New Orleans was correct, Margaret reasoned she might look better and younger than her daughter a decade from now, considering the number of young men she regularly screwed.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed her facial wrinkles of a year ago had miraculously disappeared. She also noticed that one of her interns recently acquired a few strands of gray hair.

****

As the ostentatious Mercedes exited the Jones driveway, Margaret acknowledged her daughter and the other students at the bus stop. Self-centered Ashley was holding court with her catty girlfriends. Like most mornings, they were belittling those excluded from their clique.

The boys at the bus stop weren't interested in their classmates. Instead, the attention of each was on stunning Mrs. Jones and her exposed voluptuous breasts. Their tongues hung from their mouths, analogous to cubs anticipating raw meat from their doting lioness mother. All three lads had erections. Simultaneously, they fantasized playing with the city's most mouthwatering MILF.

Margaret flashed the boys. She considered driving one of them to school and letting him fingerfuck her during the short ride. She had done that in the past as a lark and to give her admirer her scent. Nevertheless, Margaret had a full day ahead of her. She was late, and one of her scrumptious interns was waiting for her downtown. There was no time to torture a teenager. Margaret wasn't going to get distracted.

****

Ashley waved to her mother when she drove by.

Ashley's bus was approaching from the other direction. After two orgasms without eating anything of substance, she was feeling light-headed.

"Maybe I'll feel better after I flash the boys at school like my exhibitionist mother just did? As soon as I get there, I'll remove my bra and pinch my nips like Mom. I hope that hunk of a substitute teacher shows up again for my civics course. I heard he'll be substituting all week," Ashley dreamed.

"He's a voyeur and pervert. I know the type. I can tell by the way he checked me out yesterday. He was drooling when he saw me. When he lectures our class on another asinine topic, I'll sit in the front row, unbutton my blouse, pull up my skirt, and spread my legs to allow him to get an unobstructed view of my body. Let him imagine having me," Ashley decided.

'Blah, blah, blah. Who cares how the government works? Yuck, it's so boring I could scream. Does Mr. Pervert really believe any of us have a say about who will be the country's next President? Duh, get real. It ain't going to happen," Ashley ranted.

"I can't stay awake listening to such dribble. That substitute teacher drove me into zombie land yesterday despite his good looks. Why didn't he pull me out of my chair and throw me on top of his desk? He should have taken me in front of my shocked classmates to show them how to treat one who doesn't pay attention in class. Now, that would have been exciting and would have woken everyone up," Ashley guessed.

"Had he tried, I suspect he would have been able to induce a couple of the boys in the room to join the fun. Even if my gangbang fantasy didn't happen and never will, at least I can enjoy seeing the beads of sweat when I allow him to view my spectacular breasts and pussy from a distance," she concluded.

"I wonder if I can guess the size of his penis based on the bulge in his pants. Now that I ditched my panties, maybe I should pull up my skirt and rub myself so he can better appreciate my wetness? What would happen if I invited him to suck my dirty middle finger? It's finger-licking good," Ashley admitted.

"I bet Mr. Pervert would like a more lasting souvenir. How about I give him plucked hair from my bush to remember me? He can place the precious strands of my fur in a small desk photo frame to entice a MILF to do whatever it takes to get preferential treatment of her child at school. At least the strategic placement of my pubic hair in front of the anxious mother would be a conversation item for his scheming seductions and hookups," Ashley continued.

"Considering how good-looking he is, I'm sure my horny mother would have sex with him just for the hell of it. I'm such a tease. Tee hee," conceited Ashley giggled,

She looked forward to her day. Despite her earlier orgasms, Ashley was sexually aroused again, and it wasn't even eight o'clock. How was that possible? Shit happens.

****

At a traffic stop on her morning commute, Margaret telephoned the sixth floor of the downtown building where her entry-level employees reside. Margaret's office and penthouse suite were on the building's top floor. Its location and size symbolized her status in the Fortune-500 company.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jones," intern Travis answered. He recognized his Boss's caller ID on his smartphone. He was expecting her call. It was his turn to sexually satisfy his mentor this morning.

"I'll be there in half an hour. You know what I fancy. Go to my office and wait for me there," she ordered the young man.

Nothing more had to be said. Margaret didn't wait for his acknowledgment of her instructions. Instead, she hung up the phone. Because no-nonsense Margaret had trained Travis, he would be sitting in a chair outside her office when she arrived. He'd be ready to alleviate her itch and cool down her pussy. He would also be holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee for her enjoyment.

After thinking about how her daughter got off this morning, Margaret felt inspired.

"What's wrong with me? Why not a 'deuce' with Travis like Ashley received from her father? Because I've worked incredibly hard this month, I deserve a more substantial reward than a quickie," Margaret decided.

She picked up her cell phone again and called her office. This time, Margaret's personal assistant answered.

"Kayla, reschedule my nine o'clock meeting. Then, inform Travis we'll have breakfast together," Margaret notified her assistant.

When the Boss hung up her telephone, Kayla laughed. She concluded that Travis would be exhausted and thoroughly drained before he'd be allowed to leave Margaret's inner sanctum. She correctly guessed what he would be having for breakfast. He better be hungry for mature pussy. It probably would be the only item on the menu.

Kayla wished she could observe firsthand how the Boss took advantage of princely Travis.

Travis entered the room. Kayla pointed to a chair and gave him a mischievous look, signaling she had a secret.

"What?" Travis voiced when he saw the woman's evil grin. That look was never a good sign.

"Ms. Jones told me she requires more of your time this morning than she anticipated. She's energized. You know what that means," Kayla informed the intern.

"Oh, shit," was all Travis could say. He didn't have much time to prepare himself mentally and physically.

Kayla approached the sitting man. Because she was standing, her vagina was inches from his mouth. She placed her hands on his head and forced him to look upward into her eyes when she spoke.

"You know, 'Sweetcakes', I'm available if you need an experienced older woman who can increase your stamina. Your job performance must be up to the Boss's lofty standards to advance in this company. In fact, I've already created a challenging workout schedule for you. I'm free tonight. Let's begin your endurance training. What do you say?" Kayla attempted to seduce the adorable toy boy.

She pulled up her skirt to show him she wasn't wearing panties. She then tilted his head downward.

"Do you like what you see? Why don't you taste it? I know you fancy my Ebony cunt. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret. We've got time. The Boss is at least twenty minutes away. It won't take that long to get me off. C'mon, just do it. What's the big deal?" Kayla queried.

"You must be a 'team player' to advance in the corporate world. Show me you are, Travis. I can help your career significantly if you gain my favor," she tried to bribe the boy.

It was the third time this week she hit on dreamy Travis. He was USDA prime beef. Although he rejected her advances so far, Kayla was a patient, supersized, Black BBW who fancied clear young men with stiff cocks. She loved to run her fingers through a white boy's soft hair while he licked her. Kayla was confident she'd be able to wear him down eventually.

Travis was a submissive. Although not at the supremacy level of her Boss, Kayla was a Domme. She looked forward to the day she finally took advantage of the clueless boy. When that happened, Kayla was determined there wouldn't be a quickie. She couldn't wait to force him between her outstanding bazooms before she ripped off his clothes and assaulted him repetitively.

"Last chance before the Boss arrives," Kayla spoke encouragingly.

Unexpectedly, Travis moved his head forward. He paused for a few seconds before his mouth locked on Kayla's sex.

"Fuck yeah! It's about time. Eat it, white boy. I know you're hungry. That's right. Lick my snatch, cracker. Tongue my hole. Nice job. Are you enjoying your meal? Now get me off before the Boss arrives," Kayla ordered.

It was a good day. Kayla looked forward to Travis going down on her regularly. She intended to turn him into her mindless sex slave once he became addicted to her narcotic brown sugar. He just didn't know that right now. With so many good-looking interns around, there was always an abundance of 'clear fuckmeat'.

A new batch of interns was on their way. Based on Margaret's short attention span with her playthings, she wouldn't be interested in Travis by next week. Kayla had no problem feasting on the Boss's leftovers, especially one as tasty as Travis.

"Be at my place at seven pm tonight. It's time to begin your stamina training. Bring your toothbrush. You'll be staying the night. Let's see how many times you can get me off before I send you on your way in the morning," Kayla challenged the intern.

When properly taught, Kayla intended to plant submissive Travis under her desk so that he could regularly feast on her pussy at work.