The Accidental Sugar Daddy Pt. 02

--Pete

When I wake in the morning, Sam's already gone and I remember that she usually goes for an early morning run on Tuesdays. At first I sleepily wonder if it actually happened or whether it was just a rich fantasy brought on by watching her doing her yoga stretches. But there's plenty of evidence to prove my guilt: the faint scent of her body lotion and wrinkled sheets on the other side where the salty aroma of sex still lingers. I'm relieved she's gone but I realise that it's just delaying the moment where we have to talk about what happened. I guess she must take some of the blame for getting into this bed, but I'm the grown-up here, I should never have let things get out of hand like that.

I reach over for my phone and find a message from Sandy telling me she's landed safely in New York.

"Fuck," I groan as I slide out of bed and head towards the en-suite.

I'm relieved that today is a routine job. I meet Terry at the customer's house and together we demolish an old wooden shed. Terry taught me to take the glass out first, then work from the top down. It's rotten and virtually falling apart so it doesn't take much effort to help it on its way and ferry the remnants into a skip in a wheelbarrow.

After the storm, I thought it would be cooler today but if anything, it's even warmer and the rain's made it even more humid, and soon I feel my shirt sticking to my back as we work.

"So Sandy's away right? How's it going with Sam? You guys getting on okay?" he asks as we take a break and sip tea kindly provided by the homeowner.

"Oh, you know, Sam can be a bit moody but we've been getting along okay," I reply.

"What's that mark on your neck? Looks nasty," he says, pointing to the livid mark caused by Sam's lovebite.

"Oh this, just an insect bite, mosquito I think," I say, hoping that I don't look as guilty as I feel, and keen to change the subject. "You heard from Eamon?"

His son, Eamon, was on a camping holiday in Scotland and would be joining us full-time after he finished his A-levels.

"Once or twice, you know what he's like. He claims that they're walking in the highlands and can't get coverage."

The new shed is delivered just as we finish our tea, and it only takes a couple of hours to put it together. I find jobs like this a lot easier now than when I started. All this physical outdoor work is very different to the office job I had before, and over the last few years I've put on a bit of muscle and I tend to have an all-year tan. I was already quite fit but I know that Sandy appreciates how my body has improved.

It's not a job that requires Terry's expert joinery skills but it is the kind of bread-and-butter job that keeps the company going. I'm actually glad of a routine job to take my mind off things and delay me having to process what happened last night.

After another hot day, it feels good to strip off my sweat-soaked company polo shirt and shorts and step into a pleasingly luke-warm shower. When I get out, I strip the old linen from the bed and stuff it into the washing machine, washing away the evidence of the night before. If only my conscience could be cleansed so easily.

I quickly check my phone before I put a new sheet on the bed. There's another message from Sandy, she's in Singapore and she's sent a photo of her and her colleagues enjoying cocktails at some bar. Some of her colleagues are male, and I wonder if she's ever tempted to have a fling with them or her passengers. It's never occurred to me before, but I guess my sleazy train of thought is a result of what happened last night. Sandy doesn't seem the type but we've only been in a relationship for five years and I wonder how well I really know her. I mean how well do you ever know anyone?

I should be shocked by the idea that she might cheat but I can't help feeling that if she did have the occasional one-night stand, it would make me feel better, would somehow justify what happened with Sam. Part of me (not a very nice part of me) thinks that if she spent more time at home I just wouldn't be tempted so much. While we're on the subject of weak excuses, Sam also has to take some of the blame. I mean, if an attractive young woman jumps into my bed, that's a serious temptation. After all, I'm only flesh and blood, right?

I feel like I ought to talk to Sam about it, but I'm really all at sea here and just not that experienced at talking about this kind of complex sexual, emotional relationship stuff. How do you broach what happened? "Hey, you know we had sex last night. Well, that was A Bad Thing."

I finish making the bed and put on a thin, short-sleeved shirt and some shorts before heading downstairs to the kitchen where I check my emails on the laptop. I'm still thinking about the best way to bring it up when I hear the front door open and suddenly Sam is there in her sensible shoes, black work skirt and a starchy white shirt.

"How's it going?" she says brightly as she dumps her rucksack on the sofa.

"Oh, uh, just finishing off," I reply. "Hey listen, um, about last..."

"You work too hard," she says, leaning back against the counter, then hopping up. "What's the point in having your own business if you can't take the afternoon off sometimes?"

"Sure, but listen about last night," I start, not really knowing where I'm going with this sentence as she makes herself comfortable on the cool counter-top.

"What about it?" she says, crossing her legs. She has lovely legs, smooth and slender, her skin lightly tanned.

"Well, it was wrong. Obviously. And I just wanted to say, you know, I'm mainly to blame for getting carried away in the moment," I say, trying not to stare as her skirt rides up over her thigh a little. Ogling her legs at this point wouldn't send the right message.

"God, you're so tense, relax," she says, leaning forward and briefly giving one of my shoulders a squeeze. She's right, thinking about this moment has made my shoulders tighten and start to ache.

"Listen," she continues. "We're both grown-ups, consenting adults who were lonely last night and wanted to feel the warmth of another human. Wanted a little help to get themselves off."

"But..."

"I'm not some starry-eyed kid, I knew what would happen if I got into your bed. I was curious and...., well, a little horny. But I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about. Do you?" she continues as she slips off the counter and moves behind me.

"But what about your mother?" I ask as she begins to rub my shoulders.

"Well, I'm not going to tell her, are you?" she asks reasonably as she unfastens the top button and slides a hand inside as she presses her lips against my neck. "Listen, what she doesn't know, won't hurt her. Besides, I'm leaving in a couple of weeks so problem solved, no more temptation."

"Even so, we shouldn't let it happen again," I say, although my words sound hollow.

"Of course, sure," she says, sounding completely unconvinced. "What's for dinner?"

"I'm doing chicken curry."

"Great, I'll be down later," she says, planting a kiss on my cheek before disappearing upstairs.

--Sam

Sam steps into the shower and eases the dial down, cooling the water a little. It's been so hot and sticky in the cafe today, and it feels good to strip everything off. She runs her hand through her thick red hair, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, letting the refreshing water stream over her face.

"God, last night was so hot," she thinks as she lathers her body with a moisturising shower gel, her hands sliding smoothly over her youthful curves. She'd been so frustrated and horny after the party last night. She had been hoping for some kind of action with one of the boys there but they'd all been more interested in music and dancing and their dumb drinking games.

She'd love to tell Shawna about what had happened, but it was just too risky. Shawna was a great friend but just couldn't keep a secret, just seemed to be missing the gene for discretion. She'd had loved to tell her what it was like to make love to a real man, an experienced older man.

She had to admit that Shawna had been right about Pete, he really did know his way around a woman's body. Those hot, passionate kisses on her neck and shoulders that made her melt. That deep, husky voice in the still of the night. Those strong, confident hands sliding over her slim curves and cupping her breasts, and that tongue! She ran her hands up over the soft curve of her boobs, and sighed as she recalled the way he'd caressed her, that practiced tongue dancing over her nipples till they stood to attention, demanding more.

She played with them a little now, using her hands to cup her soft flesh and her soapy thumbs to tease her nipples, little electric sparks of pleasure shooting downwards straight to her pussy as they stiffened and swelled. She gently pinches one as she recalls the way he'd used his tongue on her silky slit, delicately lapping at her clit as her body quickly became warm putty on his hands and she was quickly reduced to a hot, moaning puddle of longing.

Alfie had never gone down on her like that. That was the main reason they'd split up, despite all her efforts he'd just been so hopeless in bed. He'd clumsily gone down on her once or twice at her urging, but it was clear that his heart wasn't in it, and that he saw cunnilingus as just delaying getting his dick inside her. A brief starter rather than a main course; penetrative sex in which she was lucky if he lasted more than a few frantic thrusts.

Her lips curled into a sly smile when she thought back to what Pete had said earlier. It was kind of funny that he thought it was all his fault. As if she didn't know what would happen if she climbed into his bed in the middle of the night. How naive and innocent did he think she was?

When she was particularly aroused, she was able to bring herself off using just the shower head. Like the one she used at uni this one had several settings, and when dialled fully clockwise producing a single, powerful jet of water that she could play over her most sensitive parts, her nipples, her slit, her clit. Playing it back and forth like that whilst she perhaps imagined a tall, dark man sneaking into her shower and giving her the good, hard fucking she craved sometimes.

But she knew she didn't want that right now, she just wanted to massage herself with the head, savouring the soft, sensual pleasure of the water cascading over her skin, running in sleek rivulets over her tummy and thighs. It was a shame that Pete was so hesitant and restrained, she thought. She wanted to go all the way last night, to feel that lovely big man cock inside her, filling her, making her feel complete. To feel his weight between her legs, pinning her to the mattress, her legs wrapped around his slim hips, feet swaying back and forth in the air, hanging on tight as his powerful thighs pushed him deep inside her. She was sure he'd be a generous and patient lover, taking his time, making her feel every inch of his throbbing prick, changing rhythms as they rode the peaks and troughs together, gradually bringing her young body to the boil, pushing her young body over the edge before he thought of his own pleasure.

It would be so cool if he was like a real sugar daddy, the kind of man to burst in here and take control. A dominant older man who might pin her up against the shower screen and use those strong hands and wicked tongue to do, well, to do whatever he liked with her naked body.

But perhaps he could be like that in the right circumstances, she thought, as she playfully moved the shower head up and down her inner thighs, gently teasing herself as she considered the possibilities. Perhaps all someone like Pete needed was the right stimulus...

--Pete

I'm not a great cook, but I was single for many years and so I have a few old favourites that I can whip up fairly quickly.

I thought about our conversation as I finely chopped an onion, my eyes tearing up as I drizzled oil into a pan. I suppose I was worried that Sam would be upset, that I'd taken advantage of her but it had been quite the opposite. She seemed so casual about it, but I suppose that was the way she was. She'd grown into a quite liberated young woman, care-free, but also rebellious and impulsive so maybe I shouldn't have been too surprised.

The chopped onion sizzled as I added it to the pan. Also, perhaps her generation were less neurotic about sex and relationships, maybe they were more casual about sleeping together. What did her generation call it? Hooking up?

I was still thinking about it whilst we ate. After we finished, Sam cleared up whilst I settled on the sofa with a cold beer and started to watch the football. The living room at the front of the house has a large L-shaped leather sofa that we'd bought so that all three of us could watch the big screen TV on movie nights.

It was quite an important game tonight, England had somehow made it to the final stages of the Euros and I'd been looking forward to it for a few days. I'm not a huge football fan but I feel you should always support your country. I draw the curtains to stop the evening sunlight reflecting on the screen and settle back on the centre of our sofa, the vanilla-coloured leather pleasantly cool, one arm stretched across the top as I savour my first sip of ice-cold beer.

It's well into the game when Sam reappears, fresh from the shower, the familiar scent of moisturiser and floral shampoo hanging in the humid air around her. She drops heavily onto the end of the large sofa. It's still warm, and she's wearing a loose, sleeveless grey t-shirt with "Bonjour" written in pink on the front and a pleated, olive green skirt that rides up her legs as she sits cross-legged and starts scrolling through her phone. I'm no longer surprised that she doesn't wear a bra, and as she leans forward a little I get a teasing glimpse of naked side-boob. At first, she sits quietly but it's not long before she starts complaining.

"Can't we watch something else? You've been watching this for, like, an hour," she says.

"It's been forty minutes," I protest.

"So how much longer?"

"Maybe an hour or so."

"But it's so booooring," she says, drawing out the last word into a whiny drawl.

"Well, you can always go upstairs and watch something on your laptop," I suggest.

"Why should you get to watch something on the big TV though? That's not fair," she complains, stretching out her long, bare legs towards me.

I try to get back to watching the game, but I'm aware of her staring at me, her foot poking my thigh through my shorts, trying to distract me. Tap, tap, tap. After a while, she slides it along my thigh, using her toes to explore my cock through my shorts. I try to ignore her but my prick has other ideas, responding as she gently rubs it.

"Hey, come on, enough," I say, still trying to focus on the football.

"Aren't you enjoying it?" she asks innocently, nodding towards the bulge that's formed in my shorts. "Looks like you're enjoying it."

"Come on, I'm trying to watch this," I protest.

"Well, I'm not stopping you. Why don't you take your shorts off? Bet I could make you come using just my feet," she continues, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she uses her toes to stroke me.

She's probably right, all that yoga has made her quite dextrous and I'm briefly tempted, but then I remember what I'd said earlier and come to my senses.

"Come on, we talked about this," I say wearily as I grab her foot, easing it away from the bulge that's formed in my shorts. She has lovely feet, small and neat, her toenails painted a bright pink today. I massage it as I watch, hoping that this might silence her for a bit.

"You're so boring. Anyway, can't I just have a minute to see what's on?"

I sighed. It was nearly half-time, so I relented, handing her the remote control: "Okay, just a minute though."

She flashes me a triumphant grin, rolling onto her side as she starts flicking through the dozens of reality channels that I never watch.

"Ooh," she says excitedly. "Love Island, and it's just started!"

I get some more beers from the shed and put them in the fridge to cool, then retrieve an already cold one. When I return, Sam is watching intently as a young, tanned woman with plump botox lips and a tiny bikini dumps a muscular but apparently heartbroken young man with many elaborate tattoos. I sneak up behind her and quickly snatch the remote from her hand.

"Aha!" I say, grinning as I jump back onto the sofa.

"Hey! Come on, that's not fair," she says, her lips pouting as I switch it back to the footy just in time for the second half.

"You snooze, you lose," I say, triumphantly taking a sip of beer. "Loser."

She gives me an angry look then lunges towards me, grabbing for the remote but I'm too quick for her, switching it to my left hand and stretching it away from her.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I say, as she lunges again, landing across my lap as she stretches for it, taking me by surprise.

"Hey!" I say, as she yanks it from my hand with a triumphant "Yes!"

In this position, I'm trapped, her weight pinning me down. I try stretching over but she twists away from me, her hand stretching out, the precious remote just out of my grasp as she switches channel.

She giggles, evidently enjoying my predicament as I try to wriggle free. She resists and it's really quite difficult to ease myself free.

"Come on, this isn't fair," I say, repeating her words and feeling the sweat beading my forehead as I struggle. It really is too hot for this shit.

I don't know if she was doing it deliberately but as she moves around, trying to stop me getting the remote, her bottom wiggles provocatively, her short skirt riding up over the backs of her thighs. It's a big, soft sofa, the kind that you sink right back into and it's hard to escape as she expertly shifts her weight thwarting my efforts to break free. In frustration, I lightly slap the back of her leg to get her attention.

"Ow!" she cries.

"Come on, Sam, this isn't funny, let me up," I say.

"Why don't you just sit back and enjoy Love Island? Plus there's an old episode of TOWIE next," she suggests, shifting her hips, my cock stirring as she rubs against me.

I can't resist sliding her skirt up, she really does have a lovely peachy arse. She's wearing a tiny pair of lacy panties, her smooth, rounded cheeks bisected by a thin scrap of green cotton. I raise my hand, bringing it down smartly against one cheek producing a satisfying smack and a sharp cry from Sam's lips.

"Things can get worse if you don't behave," I say, raising my hand threateningly.

"Ooh, I didn't know you were so kinky!" she laughs, mocking me in a high-pitched girly voice and wriggling her arse. "Come on then spank me, daddy!"

She's clearly not taking this seriously and I've had enough. I feel a surge of anger, bringing my hand down once, twice, three times, each slap punctuated by a surprised gasp. Her feet swing up reflexively, briefly getting in my way but I push them back down firmly.

"Maybe, that's exactly what I'll do, unless you're going to behave," I say, sliding my hand over her rounded cheeks, already beginning to blush pink.

She whimpers but remains defiantly silent so I slap her another three times, not hard, but hard enough to let her know I mean it. Each time I expect her to yield, or at least plead with me to stop, but she seems determined to see this through. Fine, I think to myself, if you want a spanking, I'll give you a spanking young lady. Perhaps if she'd had a firm hand when she was younger, she wouldn't be such a brat now.

I shift position, sitting up a little straighter, pulling her body towards me, positioning her arse in the centre of my lap. One of her legs is across me, the other hanging off the sofa so that her pussy is tight against my thigh.

"Had enough? Are you going to give me that remote?"

"No," she says defiantly, shaking her head.

I start to spank her again, and in truth I'm glad she's being so stubborn. I'm starting to enjoy myself now, enjoying the startled girlish yelps as my hand connects with the puppy fat of her butttocks a little harder, each blow producing a sharp exclamation.

"Ow! Ouch, fuck! Stop!" she squeals, starting to struggle now, trying to wriggle free.

I pull her back and place a hand in the centre of her back, holding her firmly in place as I spank her again then again, maintaining a steady rhythm, the pink blush spreading over her softly rounded cheeks. A few minutes ago she was trapping me on this sofa, but now I'm the one trapping her, I'm back in control. I slap her a little harder, enjoying the sight of her tight little arse wriggling as she tries to evade my stinging hand.

"Fuck! Stop, you perv!" she cries, although she sounds annoyed rather than apologetic. I thought she'd be begging me to stop by now, it must be so humiliating for her to be spanked like some errant schoolgirl.

I ignore her, my hand continuing to slap her buttocks rhythmically as she wriggles hotly. When she reaches behind to try and protect her reddening cheeks I grab her wrist, pulling it to one side as I continue to spank her.

But after a short while, I notice that she's stopped struggling, stopped complaining, her startled yelps turning to soft moans, and instead of her struggling to free herself, it feels like she's squirming with barely suppressed excitement. Her thighs part a little further as I feel her hips grind against me.

"Are you enjoying this, you bad girl?" I ask, cupping one of her cheeks, my fingers dimpling the soft pink flesh, as I ease it to one side. Her pussy looks so inviting peeking out from between her flushed buttocks, barely hidden behind the thin green lace.

"No! Of course not, you perv," she protests, although her voice sounds breathless.

She twists her head as I slide a hand over the soft curves of her arse, feeling the warmth of her skin. Her face looks flushed, her hair a little tousled. She looks embarrassed but there's something else in those big, dark green eyes, something that looks a lot like arousal.

As I slide my hand between her warm thighs she reaches behind blindly trying but failing to grab my wrist. I chuckle as my fingers discover what I already instinctively know. She's getting wet down there, very wet, I can feel it as I run a fingertip along the gusset of her panties and she moans long and low as I explore the swollen contours of her pussy.

"Liar! You're such a bad girl," I exclaim, and she squeals as I bring my hand down smartly on a fleshy buttock producing another satisfying smacking sound.

"Ow, please, stop!" she squeals, wriggling hotly in my lap but unable to escape with my hand pressed firmly between her shoulders.

"Would you rather I do this?" I ask rhetorically as I slide my hand back between her legs and stroke her silky slit through the damp lace.

"Mmm," she sighs happily, spreading her knees a little wider as I massage her needy pussy, my fingers moving in slow circles.

"Such a bad, slutty girl," I say, giving her bottom another couple of sharp slaps. Her sharp yelps are followed by soft moans, as I run a fingertip over the lacy panties, exploring her swollen folds. "Tell me what you want."

"Please," she says, her voice quiet and defeated now. "Please stroke me."

"Are you going to be good?" I ask as I tug at her panties, wriggling the scrap of damp lace over her hips and down, till they're stretched thin and twisted between her knees.

"Yes daddy, I'll be a good girl," she sighs meekly, as I caress her pussy, stroking her honeyed folds, feeling her shiver, the wetness spreading. She produces an excited little gasp as I use a fingertip to circle the hard little bud of her clit. This is the first time I'd heard her use the word 'daddy' and I felt something change deep inside me. Is that how she saw me? Did she want me to take control, to use her pliant young body any way I wanted? Is that why she was being so bratty? Was she trying to provoke me, I wondered as I stroked her softly yielding pussy producing a fresh series of hot sighs.

Well, if that's what she wanted I was happy to oblige.

I want to see all of her and I ease her soft buttocks apart, exposing her most intimate parts. I run a fingertip along the tight pucker of her bumhole, making her wriggle uncomfortably as I briefly circle it, then down along her perineum, towards the tempting sight of her pinkly naked slit.

"Good girl," I say, rewarding her by stroking her swollen folds, using my fingers to ease her outer lips apart, exposing the glistening pink flesh within.

"Oh, daddy," she gasps throatily as I use a fingertip to explore her entrance, feeling the warm honey spill from deep within her. She's quite tight, but also very wet.

"Fuck!" she exclaims, her voice sounding tight and high-pitched, as I ease a finger inside her, her wet lips clasping at me. I slip my finger slowly inside producing a series of hoarse gasps, then slowly out, noting how her lips cling to me, my finger glistening with her musky juices.

Her hips begin to move in time with my finger as I ease it in and out, her pussy grinding hard against my thigh. Her legs are spread wide, her panties stretched tight between her knees. As I push my finger deeper into her molten depths, moving a little quicker now, she moans hotly, the remote control now long forgotten, slipping from her fingers onto the carpet.

"Say you're sorry for being such a cock tease," I mutter as I slide a hand under her loose t-shirt and fondle a bare breast. Her nipple is already semi-hard and her young body shivers as I slowly stroke it with a fingertip, feeling it swell.

I only get a series of moans in response, so I pinch the sensitive tip cruelly between thumb and forefinger.

"Ow! I'm sorry, daddy," she sobs, grinding hard against me now, my cock hardening in response, pressing urgently against my shorts. I can barely wait to ease my cock into the warm, slick embrace of her pussy.

"Sorry for what?" I say, giving her a sharp slap.

"Ow! Sorry for being a cock tease, daddy," she says defeatedly.

"Bad girls like you need a good fucking," I grunt, leaning closer, my lips brushing her ear as I slip a second finger inside her needy pussy, forcing a hoarse groan from her lips.

"Yes, daddy, I'm sorry," she moans submissively, her hips pushing back against my probing fingers.

"Such a bad, horny girl," I say huskily, sliding my free hand down over her back, pulling her short skirt higher then lightly slapping a sore-looking buttock as she grinds harder, impaling herself on my wet fingers, desperately chasing her orgasm.

I've never really been into spanking but I'm enjoying myself now, all too easily slipping into the role of dominant daddy figure. I experiment with slapping her in different places, sharp slaps to the inside of her thighs and light taps on her swollen sex producing surprised little yelps.

"Don't stop, daddy, please," she begs, her voice sounding desperate and taut, as I finger-fuck her hard now, pushing deep inside her clasping depths as her breathing is reduced to a series of harsh gasps. She's moaning loudly now, a series of primal, urgent, animal-like growls that signal how close she is.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she wails as I feel her body tighten, her pussy clenching around my fingers. Her breath comes in great sobbing gasps as she climaxes, her body convulsing, jerking in spasms. I hold her until the spasms fade away, her chest heaving, a sweaty sheen on her hot skin.

After she's cum, her body is loose and as malleable as plasticine, and she slides to the floor as I slowly get to my feet. She kneels, looking up at me with those big olive green eyes, her expression a mixture of contentment and excitement as I slowly unzip my baggy shorts. Her full lips part a little, curling into a wicked grin as I ease them over my hips and my cock rears up, like a wild animal finally released from its cage.

"So big and hard. Tell me what you want, daddy," she says, placing her hands just above my knees, her eyes wide and full of anticipation as I gently tap my swollen glans against the smooth, pale skin of her cheek. She must know exactly what I want, I think she just wants me to say it out loud.

"Lick me, girl," I say gruffly, then groan as I watch her stick her little pink tongue out, slowly running it along the underside of my straining shaft as her fingers gently cradle and tease my balls.

"Fuck yeah," I say as she reaches the top and swirls her tongue around the bulbous tip.

It feels amazing, my cock fizzing with anticipation as she gently kisses and licks my hardness but the spanking has left me very aroused and soon my body demands more. I slide my fingers through her coppery hair, gently tugging it so that she tilts her head back and is forced to look up at me with those big, olive green eyes as I wrap my fist around my throbbing cock. She moves back as I ease forward, those soft tempting lips remaining an inch from the tip until I tighten my grip on the back of her neck holding her steady. I think she's still playing the cock tease but maybe she's just worried about my size. I don't really care at this point.

She holds still obediently as my fat cock bumps against her parted lips and I groan hoarsely as slowly I ease my fat cock inside the welcoming warmth of her mouth.

"Good girl," I say as I ease it back out, my shaft glistening wetly with her saliva. She begins to move her head back and forth, her soft lips moulding around my hardness. The warm, wet embrace of her mouth feels amazing, her small pink tongue swirling around my glans as she sucks at me, pulling me deeper. She can only take the top half of me in her mouth and she wraps her fist around the bottom half, stroking me there.

I quickly strip off my shirt as I watch her head bob, her hair softly swaying. Who would have guessed that bratty, opinionated Sam would be so submissive, I think as I watch my cock disappear between her pouty lips. She was so rebellious, so contrary that I thought she'd want to be more assertive. But I guess you never knew what fantasies people had when the lights went out.

She was very good, I guessed that she must have done this before with one of her boyfriends and I was already pretty aroused from the spanking I'd given her. I felt the pressure begin to build, the sweat beading my forehead, my breathing quickening.

As she begins to move a little faster, my knees start to wobble and I know that soon I'll be past the point of no return.

As much as I'd love to cum all over her pretty face to teach her a lesson, deep down I know how I really want this to finish. I've told her that she needs a good fucking and that's what she's going to get.

I reluctantly ease myself from between her sweet lips and sit down heavily on the sofa, the leather cool against my skin. I impatiently kick off my shorts and tug at her arm, pulling her to her feet, watching excitedly as she pulls her t-shirt up over her head, and shimmies out of her skirt. I pull her naked body towards me, intending to slide on top of her and give her the good, hard fucking she deserves but Sam has other ideas.

Instead, she slides a leg across me, straddling my lap and it strikes me that she might be worried about my size so I lean back and pace my hands behind my head, letting her do things at her pace. I watch as she wraps her slender fingers around my pulsing hardness.

"Fuck," I groan as she begin to grind against me, her slick pussy sliding smoothly along my length, a contented look on her face as she savours the feeling of my hard shaft grinding against her slick pussy.

As her sweet pussy slides along the length of my shaft, she leans forward and kisses me, briefly at first then more deeply as our bodies move together, her small tongue darting inside my mouth. It's funny how this is the first time we've kissed and somehow it does feel more intimate than anything else we've done.

When our lips part she sits forward, a look of intense concentration on her pale face as she changes position, placing one foot flat on the sofa and one hand on my chest steadying herself, her delicious pussy hovering a couple of inches above my straining cock.

I hold my breath as she presses the swollen tip against her entrance, taking her time, gently rubbing it against her tight little hole. Then we're both groaning as she slowly impales herself, my rock hard prick pushing aside her softly yielding lips. I feel a heady mix of intense arousal and guilty pleasure as she sinks down, inch-by-thrilling-inch. She's halfway down before she rises again, my cock shiny with her juices.

"Oh fuck, yes," she gasps happily, leaning forwards and planting both hands on the solid muscle of my chest as she slides down again, her young body trembling, her pussy squeezing my fat cock.

I place my hands on her hips steadying her as she begins to fuck me with a slow, steady rhythm. Soon, most of my prick is disappearing inside her sweet pussy, changing position again so that both her knees are on the sofa. She moves slowly at first, taking her time but soon her small boobs bob and jiggle as she rides me a little faster. I can't resist fondling them, squeezing one into a tight peak and flicking my tongue over her hard little nipple.

There's a moment when I start to think about how wrong this is, my stepdaughter fucking me on the couch where we sometimes still watched movies together as a family but I quickly dismiss it, pushing it to the back of my mind to be processed later. Instead I slide a hand over one of her buttocks, feeling the warmth of her flushed skin.

"Good girl," I grunt, giving her bottom a little slap to encourage her as I slip all too easily into the role of dominant daddy.

"Am I fucking you good, daddy?" she gasps breathlessly.

"You're such a good girl, baby," I reply, my hips moving in time with hers, my breath becoming ragged.

I feel a hot surge of pleasure and she begins to fuck me a little harder, her skin shiny with sweat, her bottom slapping noisily against my thighs and I know that there's no way we can stop now.

"Oh fuck, daddy, it's so good," she gasps breathlessly as she bounces up and down and I can tell from her voice that she's even closer than me. I watch her face flush pink and her breathing become ragged as her rhythm increases.

"Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" she squeals as she bounces a little harder, taking my full length now and I can feel her muscles tighten as she chases her orgasm. I feel my own thigh muscles burn as I grasp her slim hips and thrust upwards, pushing my swollen prick deep inside her as the breath rasps in her throat.

"Oh daddy!" she squeals as she climaxes, her hot pussy squeezing my cock as she throws her head back, releasing her breath in a long wail of pleasure. I lay still feeling her pussy twitch and wrapping my arms around her as she slumps forward, her warm body pressed against mine, her chest heaving and feeling her hot moist breath against my shoulder.

I'm so close now, I grasp her soft buttocks and ease myself deep into her molten depths, feeling my muscles burn as I plant my feet on the floor and thrust upwards, lifting my buttocks off the sticky leather of the sofa. I thrust once, twice, three times and I'm there too, crying out and hearing Sam moan happily as my hot cum surges through my cock and spills deep inside her as my own orgasm hits hard, leaving me with that deeply content feeling that only a good orgasm can provide.

I run my hand over her damp hair as I feel her lips press against my neck.

"Was I good, daddy?" she whispers breathlessly, her breath tickling my ear.

"You're such a good girl," I mutter and her lips curl into a lazy smile as I lightly run my fingers down her back, tracing her spine, feeling her hot body shiver.