by Miley Milque
How to be perfect for him.
"Good girl. I have a meeting but I'll be back in a few hours. Clean up this mess." He gestured to the clothes on the floor and the pool of semen collecting on the floor. "And make a new batch of cookies. A good batch."
"Yes, sir."
I nodded and got off the desk. I gathered my clothes not sure if I should put them back on or not.
"And get dressed," he said.
"Yes, sir."
I pulled on my clothes and gathered up the tray of sweets. By the time he got home his office would be spotless. And I would have a perfect batch of cookies waiting for tasting.
All that mattered was perfecting myself for him. I would do everything I could, take any punishment he deemed necessary to give him that perfection.
And if I messed up every once in a while on purpose he would never have to know.
HER BIG FILL
Mr. Parker is the man of my dreams. And there he was, like every Saturday morning, washing his BMW on the other side of the cul-de-sac. I pull back the purple curtains of my bedroom window just enough to gaze woefully at his perfect body, scrubbing feverishly in the driveway with his shirt off.
Sometimes I wonder if he does it just for me. After all, he has seen the way I stare at him. The sweat of his ripped torso glistens in the sunlight, and the chiseled muscles of his thick arm flex each time he leans over the hood.
"Laura, get down here and do the dishes already!" Mom is yelling at me from downstairs, but I'm not listening. I'm nineteen years old now, about to go off to college, and yet she still treats me like a damn child.
I watch as the streams of soapy water roll off the front of his car, his whole chest seems to bulge with each squeeze of the sponge. My panties are getting wet. And they are the only thing I'm wearing.
I have known Mr. Parker since I was a little girl. In fact, he's been a lot like a father figure to me growing up. My own dad passed away when I was three, but Mr. Parker did favors for me all the time.
He used to help my mom out by dropping me off at school in the morning since it was on his way to work. He taught me the important things I needed to know about boys and how to watch out for the bad ones.
And it's only recently that he seems to notice that I've grown into a woman. When I brought him some of my homemade cupcakes for his 40th birthday last week, he had trouble keeping his eyes off my tits in a low cut tank top.
He was so cute standing in the doorway, stammering and looking for the words to thank me while struggling to keep his attention above my chest.
It's true that he is much older. Old enough to be my Dad, even. But it doesn't bother me. Especially with that statuesque body and those handsome, still youthful features to go along with it. In fact, he doesn't look a day over thirty.
Although he has a scar that travels down to his cheek bone from the left ear, and I can tell he is self conscious about it sometimes. I just think it makes him look rugged--sexier, even. And I desperately want to tell him that.
I want to whisper into Mr. Parker's ear just how much I worship every part of his body while I've got one hand down his pants, stroking his cock when his wife isn't home.
I glide fingers down the soft, pale skin of my belly as I watch him work. He was bent over now to get a good shine on his headlights as a bead of sweat rolled down the back of his muscled lower back.
My panties are all soggy now.
Slowly, I slip my index and middle finger together underneath my scarlet lacy panties. I gasp as they connect with my wet clit and eyes roll to the back of my head. My legs shudder and spread apart on their own.
I have to get one foot over the edge of the desk near my window to keep my balance.
I rub sensually on my clit and feel the wetness of my warm pussy. I pull the two fingers up to my mouth to taste my sweet juices.
"Mmmm..." I moan softly. I wish that Mr. Parker could taste me for himself.
I had been trying for months to find a way to seduce him, but I was having terrible luck. Most times, I would spend all day finding the perfect skimpy outfit to wear before going over to bring him a gift.
Except that most times his wife would answer the door. And even though I insisted on giving the gift to Mr. Parker myself, she just took it from me and told me goodbye.
I think that bitch knows I want to fuck her husband.
And finding the chance to fuck him in secret will not be an easy task. She works from home and hardly ever leaves the house. In fact, Saturdays are the only time I ever see her gone.
I heard him saying that she goes to some book club or something, but I don't give a shit as long as she isn't home in time to catch us being naughty.
The truth is, I want nothing more in life than to be a mother. And ever since I started babysitting my neighbor's little baby Brandon, I have been searching for ways for Mr. Parker to give me one.
Taking care of Brandon, changing his diapers, holding him when he cries--it ignited a deep maternal drive within me. And now I will do anything to have a child of my own.
But I want Mr. Parker to be the father. Fuck going to college for four years to work until I'm old, just for some career I don't love.
If Mr. Parker will have me and support me, I will make being a mother my life's passion.
And I'll do a much better job of it than my own mother has done. Sure I turned out okay, but a lot of the credit goes to Mr. Parker, too. He was the one who taught me the sort of stuff Mom never bothered to tell me about.
Like how I need to be careful about who I choose to fuck and how to get through high school without being taken advantage of.
But I was always more than careful, because I've never wanted to fuck anyone else but him.
I dip my fingers back underneath my panties and slide them between my folds. The pink manicured tips curl just enough to enter inside my wet hole and I let out a sigh. My breath quickens and my heart pounds in my chest.
I bring the other hand up to pinch my nipple gently and my body tingles. Then I grab the whole breast and bring it up to my mouth.
My lips part and I flick at the nipple with my tongue, sending electric vibrations down my spine each time.
"Jenny, what the fuck are you doing up there?" My mom is still yelling. I thought about shouting exactly what I was doing so she might shut the hell up.
If I could get knocked up by Mr. Parker, I might be able to get away from my Mom's incessant nagging. After all, he was the sort of man who would take care of me and fulfill his obligation to our child if he got me pregnant.
The way he looks at me sometimes, I know he's thought about fucking my brains out. All I have to do is fan the flames.
I moan long and loud as the fingers in my pussy go two knuckles deep. Then I curl them in just the right way to stimulate my G-spot.
Even though I was a virgin, I had masturbated to Mr. Parker washing his car every weekend since I turned nineteen a couple months ago, so I was no stranger to my body.
I had even bought my very own dildo specifically for this weekly occasion. The rubbery thing wobbles on the desk next to me as I lose my balance and fall forward.
My supple tits are compressed against the glass in front of me in full view of all the neighbors. And they are big enough to fill most the pane in the slit uncovered by the curtains.
And it was just my luck that Mr. Parker turned to look up at me right at that moment. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. His gaze was fixed on the two large areola that stared back at him.
Utterly embarrassed, I fumble in a panic for the curtain cord to draw them closed. But like a total klutz, I fall over backward instead. I land hard on the floor, knocking over the dildo from my desk on the way down. It bounces off my breast and ends up on the carpet next to me.
"The hell is going on? Laura, get your ass down here already. Don't make me come up there!" I can't believe it. Mr. Parker has just seen my bare tits for the first time.
What must he be thinking now? Did he like what h
e saw?
I stare up at the popcorn ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Either way, tonight is the night I'm going to let Mr. Parker fuck me.
With his wife gone for a couple hours, there is no way he will be able to resist my advances after what he just saw. The naive little girl he once knew has fully matured now.
I pick up the dildo, brush the tip along the softness of my belly, and circle it around my navel. I imagine Mr. Parker mounting me on the floor while I'm spread eagle, kissing sensually along my neck.
I close my eyes and trace the end of the the dildo from my navel down between my legs. My body jolts as the head of it enters me and I bite my bottom lip to stifle a yelp so Mom doesn't hear.
My wetness allows it to slide in and out of me with ease while my thick juices coat the rubbery shaft. I think about what it would feel like for Mr. Parker to stick his cock in my wet virgin pussy.
I want him to feel the warmth and the tightness of it. I want him to take my body as he pleases. And I want to squeeze the walls of my pussy tight around his dick until he cums inside me.
I shove the dildo in deep, taking the whole thing inside me until the rubber balls slap against my tiny asshole at the other end. I cup the thing by the ball sac and ram it as far as it will go.
I wince when it bottoms out at my cervix and my hips buck up into the air.
"That's it, I'm coming up there Laura!" My mother yells, but I continue ignoring her. It felt too good to stop now.
I imagine Mr. Parker holding my legs up from behind the knees, drilling into me with his enormous cock. I clutch the base of the shaft with both hands and start pounding my pussy like a jackhammer .
My legs twitch and my waist shudders. I squint my eyes shut and purse my lips together, trying desperately to contain the urge to scream.
"Mm--" is what comes out instead. I feel a growing tingle deep inside me and I know I'm about to cum. Hard.
It takes every bit of willpower to stop myself from just screaming at the top of my lungs. The orgasm that was building within me was unlike any I had felt before.
"Come out right now!" She's on the other side of the door now. My legs jet out straight in the air as I drive the dildo vigorously into the depths of my pussy.
My mom pounds against the door and my bedroom walls shake.
Almost there. Almost...
"Laura!" She pounds again.
"Dammit Mom I--I'm coming!" But not downstairs to do the dishes. My body writhes and I can't help but moaning loud and long.
"What the fuck?" She yells.
My vision blurs, my mind goes blank. Juices gush out of me onto the carpet and my whole body spasms violently. I am blinded by the ecstasy of it all. My arms and legs drop to the floor and my mind rides on waves of pleasure.
Finally, the door opens.
My mother looks mortified when she sees me sprawled out on the floor with the dildo firmly embedded deep inside my quivering pussy. Juices are still flowing out of me and dribbling off the rubbery balls.
But I could hardly give a shit. It felt too good to care.
The door slams shut and I continue to lie there, just basking in the after glow of my incredible orgasm. I can only imagine what it would feel like to fuck Mr. Parker for real.
******
I had to work up some tears before knocking on the double doors of Mr. Parker's house. Appealing to his good nature would be my best chance at getting his head between my legs.
Mom had freaked out at me when I finally came downstairs. But instead of fighting, I just left and came here. But at least now I had an excuse to come over.
"My mom... she kicked me out!" I sob as the doors crack open.
"Laura?" He looks stunned. I duck under his arms and let myself inside.
"She's such a bitch!" I say. "I don't know where to go right now..." I get in close enough to feel his warm breath on the tip of my cold nose.
He still smelled of sweat and musk. "Is it cool to hang out with you for awhile?" I beam at him through teary eyes.
The dark mascara I had on was smeared across one cheek. I must have looked pathetic, but this was my long awaited opportunity to finally be alone with him.
"Come in Laura. Relax and have a seat." He motions to the giant living room down the hall. I grab his arm and lean my head against his shoulder as we walk together, still sobbing.
When we enter the room, I plop on the long leather couch in a huff and slouch into the cushions.
"What's going on?" He asks, looking genuinely concerned. He takes a seat beside me. I wipe another tear off my face and turn to face him with innocent eyes.
I sniffle, pretending to choke back more tears. Mr. Parker embraces me and holds me close to his chest. The firmness of his pecs comforts me as I weep into his shirt.
He holds me there for a while, patting gently on my back for reassurance. I sniffle again and press lightly against hardness of his chest to push away. Staring at him again and running fingers through my hair to brush it from my face, I ask,
"When does your wife get back?" He cocks his head in a quizzical fashion.
"Huh? Why do you--"
"Because I need to know how much time you have to fuck me, silly!" I giggle and slap playfully on his knee. He looks utterly speechless. I can't help but laugh though, because, "That's the same look I saw you make earlier when you spotted me in the window today."
"Wha--what window?" He's stammering again like the time I brought him those cupcakes. I guess he was going to play dumb.
"I know you saw me..." Mr. Parker shakes his head as I stand to get in front of him. "You saw me with my big tits hanging out, didn't you?" I bend over so he has a perfect view of my busty cleavage. The scoop neck of my black tank top hangs low as one spaghetti strap falls off the shoulder.
I grab his chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt his head up. I gaze passionately into his dark green eyes. "And you want to fuck them, don't you?" My tongue traces along my upper lip and I can feel him trembling.
"Now that we're here alone, I can give you an even better view." I giggle, standing up straight again. I curl manicured fingers under the bottom of my tank top and lift it over my head. I toss it onto his lap and reach behind to unhook my red lacy bra.
My bare tits jiggle and then hang as the bra hits the carpet floor.
"Laura..." He whispers, eyes wide and mouth agape. Cupping a breast in my hand, I ask,
"You want to taste them, don't you Mr. Parker?" I get the nipple of it into my mouth and suck sensually, licking around the areola while staring into his eyes with more lustful intention. My breast tingles and my eyelids flutter.
I nibble playfully at my nipple with soft lips while beaming with delight at Mr. Parker. Giggling again, I say,
"Or maybe..." I turn around and bend over, stepping my legs apart in my white platform pumps. My black tights stretch thinly from my ankles up to my round ass showing through the nylon.
I had discarded the soggy wet panties from earlier and wasn't wearing anything underneath.
My dripping juices mark a dark wet spot between my thighs where Mr. Parker's eyes are fixed. "Maybe you would rather have a taste of this virgin pussy?" I guide my hands slowly up from my knees to the inside of my thighs. I fold both hands between my crotch and moan.
"I--Laura..." I moan louder over his voice. "You have to stop--we can't..." I reach around to tug down slowly at my tights from behind. The afternoon sunlight that fills the living room illuminates the pale skin of my bare ass.
My fingers creep along the roundness of my butt, pulling the tights down along with them.
l
"I mean it Laura!" When my fingers reach the back of my thighs, a bit of the nylon sticks between my lips where the wet spot is.
I pull down a bit further, the fabric snaps free, and Mr. Parker has a perfect view of my tight little pussy. I rotate my neck to look behind at him while I'm bent over.
"Just a little taste?" I fake a childish pout and smack firmly against my ass
. Mr. Parker jumps at the crisp cracking sound of my skin being spanked. I press an indent into the skin with my finger tips, rubbing in small circles at the raw spot.
My pussy quivers and I whimper with the eagerness to be fucked senseless.
"But, what... what if my wife comes home? She'll kill me!" I spank my ass again, harder this time.
"If we don't have much time," I say, my wet juices dribbling down between the gap of my thighs, "Then you'd better start fucking me, Mr. Parker." His hands are trembling, his legs shake with a certain anxiousness.