by Miley Milque
I press my palms against his ripped pecs as my body rocks in sync with his thrusting. Mr. Johnson grabs hold of my tits, saying,
"I--I don't know if I can hold--agh!" He squirms at the hips; I can feel his cock twitching against my cervix. Mr. Johnson is trying desperately to stop himself from cumming inside me.
A devilish smile spreads across my face. I throw my pelvis against him and clench my walls tight as I can. I reach around and clutch his ass to hold him inside me while I work to coax the cum from his dick, compressing every inch of his cock in my tightness.
He must be using every ounce of concentration to keep himself from squirting up in me.
"Krista--Fuck, Krista! I'm gonna--I'm cumming!" Mr. Johnson wails in ecstasy--he has gone over the edge. He squeezes hard on my tits while his hips spasm against me. My whole body reels to each impaling thrust of his cock.
I can feel it twitching, shooting his massive load up into the very depths of me. My spine arches on the floor when his thick spunk hits the back of my uterus.
Thick beads of sweat fall from his forehead onto my belly as his warm load fills my insides. Mr. Johnson groans long and loud; his body writhes and convulse on top of me.
"Ungh!" I moan, feeling the deluge of cum flooding my insides and filling me whole. A bit of it trickles out from me and rolls off his ball sac. Mr. Johnson collapses; his torso slips and slides on the sweat of my stomach.
I contract and release the tense muscles of my core, milking every lost drop of spunk from his dick.
He actually did it. Mr. Johnson just came inside me! Our legs intertwine and I plant kisses along his neck. As he lies there on top of me gasping for breath, still twitching, I wonder about how his wife is going to take the news.
I can't wait to see the look on Mrs. Johnson's face when I tell that nagging bitch how her husband impregnated me.
Turns out, I'm a lot tighter than her after all.
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THE DIRTY DEVIL
NAUGHTY WITH HIM
"Absolutely not!" Mom is yelling at me as she closes the double doors of our house. "That boy has more piercings than a pin cushion." She is talking about my boyfriend, Jason, who just dropped me off from my community college class.
It was true though, Jason was big into piercings. He had a silver nose ring for each nostril, three rings on the corner of his bottom lip, two on the eyebrow, and large gauges in his ear lobes. He looked pretty ridiculous, but I didn't care.
The truth was, I wasn't really into him anyway. I just wanted Mom to disapprove like she always did.
Almost every week I would bring home a new one, and Mom would turn them away, just like clockwork.
And for every one of them she forbid me to date, it gave me a certain satisfaction to know that mother disapproved when I'd be blowing him in the front seat of his car later that night, or maybe in the men's bathroom at school the next day.
Either way, I was over them pretty quick and was on to the next one within a week or so. I didn't care much for personality or even looks, I just wanted the bad boys I could be naughty with after mother had cast them out of our home.
"Why can't you ever just bring home a normal boy, Melissa?" Disobedience always gives me great pleasure, especially when I'm breaking the rules set by my bitch of a mother.
And now I had eyes set upon the one I was really after all this time; the only one I could really connect with, who could get me turned on enough to want to fuck his brains out just by sitting next to me when we were alone -- my neighbor, Mr. Thompson.
But I rarely called him that. To me he was Blake, the man who had cared for me and supported me the last nine years since he helped us move into a better home next to his.
Before Blake, we were broke and miserable. Now we were in a big two story house, with two bathrooms, and a kitchen with an island and an extra sink.
My mom goes over to Mr. Thompson’s house to fuck him every so often. I think that’s why he has always been so nice to us. But now I am going to fuck him.
I want to take him whole in my throat and repay him with my body for everything he has done for us. I want him to take me from behind and ravage my tight little pussy until he's ready to cum.
And I want mother to catch us doing it.
That bitch has been keeping me on a tight leash for far too long. I am nineteen years old now and I will do as I please. I am going to set it up so she walks in on us when Blake is balls deep inside me.
Then 'll be slurping on his cock when he cums, taking his hot load on my face and smearing it all over. I want her to see just how much he loves fucking me over her, that she can never please Mr. Thompson like I can.
My mom can go fuck herself with all her damn rules--always home by nine, no dating boys without her approval, no fucking in the pool. Okay, the last one was never explicitly stated, but I still did it anyway.
Whenever her and Blake were out on vacation somewhere, I'd bring my current boyfriend over to fuck me on the diving board.
Then we'd eventually fall in together and I'd use my mouth like a vacuum to suck him off underwater. I liked watching the cum jet out then disintegrate in the chlorinated pool water.
"And you won't be getting any dinner until I see your university applications done. You are going off to a good school next semester, so help me god!" Mom is still yelling up at me as I walk upstairs to my room.
School isn't much of a priority for me anymore. Showing up at all is really just an easy way for me to find more boys to fuck.
But this might not be so easy. Blake is a good man who seems to keep to his morals.
The truth is, I had tried to get him to fuck me once before, when Mom was on a business trip. I had just turned nineteen then, and he had been drinking alone, watching television in his living room.
I snuck over to him while he was slumped in the couch, eyelids drooping, half passed out. The weatherman was droning on about a big storm that was looming, and Blake was dozing off.
He was loosely clutching a beer can over one side of the couch that was about to tip over enough to spill onto the carpet. He works long hours at a big insurance company and I know that it takes a toll on him.
He had his tie loosened and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, exposing a bit of his bare chest.
Blake was ripped for a man of his age. He went to the gym often and kept a tight physique. His pecs were toned and they pressed hard against his striped shirt. I could still smell the lingering vanilla cologne from that morning.
Blake was a real man, unlike the skinny boys in my classes.
"I want to suck your cock," I whisper, grabbing the can from him as it dribbled a bit and set it gently on the floor. Blake's eyes shot open as he sat up straight, suddenly wide awake.
"You--what?" Blake is looking bewildered.
"I want... to suck..." I lick my lips between the words, speaking slow and soft, "...your co--"
"Melissa!" Blake yells and stands up. He looks perplexed -- but maybe he's just pretending, and is rather surprised by my assertiveness. "What has gotten into you? Are you drunk?" He asks, looking down at me while I remain squatted with my legs spread and open toward him.
I continue licking around my lips and stare into his brown eyes, pleading with him to give in to lust.
"You are my neighbor’s daughter for god's sake! And besides all that, you are much too young -- now get up off the floor, please."
"Too young? I'm nineteen now and I can decide for myself who I want to fuck. And I want to fuck... you." I grin mischievously and stand up to meet him. My lips are closing in on his mouth, which is open wide in disbelief.
When our lips meet, I move a hand down to the bulge in his jeans. I slip two fingers below the zipper and rub in semicircles where I can feel his balls.
The other hand reaches behind the tails of his untucked shirt to grip the latch of his leather belt firmly with curled fingers.
Wh
en I start to undo the buckle, Blake grabs me by the shoulders and peels his lips away from mine. "You have to stop now, I mean it" he tries to say with a certain tone of parental authority.
But I'm not listening.
"I bet I could make you cum harder than Mom ever has." My challenge has him stunned and utterly speechless, so I move to take advantage. I push him back onto the couch and pull down hard at the waist of his jeans.
Part of his white briefs are pulled down along with it, exposing his trimmed pubes. I quickly straddle him just below the groin before he has a chance to get up, then peel back the rest of his underwear.
He's yelling at me to get off him now, but I know he will shut up once I'm slobbering on his cock.
"Oh, god..." he moans when his cock becomes wet in my mouth, the head of it slipping down the back of my throat.
He was pretty large even when he was soft. I play around the shaft with my tongue a bit and I can feel his cock getting enormous.
I have to gag to push him further down my throat, and he moans louder this time. I've sucked a lot of cock for my age, but Blake's is by far the biggest.
I'm not sure if I can take him whole, but I'm definitely going to try. After all he has done for me and my mother, he deserves this. I want to blow him the way Mom should, but she's too much of a prude for that.
"You'll have to push." I try to say through gargled words while I'm down on his throbbing cock, nearly all the way. At first he remains motionless for awhile.
He's trying to pretend that this isn't actually going on, that I'm not actually giving my neighbor the best blowjob of his life. But I know he must be enjoying it, because he shut up about telling me to stop a long time ago.
His hands move with a slow apprehension. Blake knows now what a naughty girl I am. He doesn't know what to think of his neighbor’s daughter acting like a little whore and drooling all over his stiff dick.
Mom would be utterly disgusted if she found out.
She would never even look at him again, he must be thinking. Still, his hands continue making their way to the back of my head. I gag again -- I can't get it all down unless he pushes from behind. Then his hands are still, resting gently upon my auburn hair.
"Like--Like this?"
"Uh-huh," I grunt out after taking in a deep breath of air. And then he pushes--and there is only a little force behind his strong hands--at first.
He's still unsure and I can tell he's feeling conflicted. And yet as I look up at him through teary eyes his expression is one of undeniable pleasure.
The sensation of my warm lips around the base of his cock, the head of his dick penetrating into the very depths of my slippery throat--no man could dream of asking for it to stop.
His image of me as an innocent, naive little girl is shattered in this moment of me sucking him off like a true expert.
But as he slides further into my throat, and even down into my esophagus, his grip tightens around my skull. Then he pushes harder, and I can sense him giving in to desire completely.
His moans echo against the walls of the living room. The weather man on the television is talking about a torrential downpour being on its way. The light from the screen illuminates my puffed cheeks around his cock in the otherwise dark room.
I'll have to breathe soon, but I can hold it a little longer just for him. I’m going to make his head explode like Mom never could.
Mom couldn't get this deep for this long if she cared to try. I bob my head slowly up and down his shaft while making a humming noise in my throat to vibrate his cock.
I can feel the pulse of his dick and I can tell that he's about ready to erupt in my mouth.
"Ungh. Mmm--Melissa, I'm..." I have to breathe now. I pull back with my neck and he loosens his grip. He had been squeezing so tight I can still feel the pressure from his finger tips where they'd been.
I take in a heavy breath and watch as thick lines of saliva stretch between his cock and my lips.
"Nuh-uh," I shake my finger at him, "I want you to cum in my pussy."
"Melissa! You know we can't do that!" He uses his elbows to lift his back onto the armrest of the couch so he's up straight. Why is he pulling away from me? I thought he wanted this like I do.
"I'm so wet for you, Blake. Mom will never have to know." I reach a hand down into my white lace panties and start fingering my clit. "Cum inside me, Mr. Thompson. You know you want to."
Blake turns away from me with eyes squinted and pointed down at the floor -- he's looking suddenly regretful.
"I've already let you take this way too far," Blake says as he reaches for the jeans furled at his knees. The last bit of saliva connecting us separates and he tugs at the briefs until his erection is covered. Tears begin to swell and I am a pouty mess.
Blake is up in a flash and steps backward away from the couch, knocking over his beer can. The liquid fizzes out onto the carpet and Blake turns away from me.
"I'm going upstairs now," he says. When he gets to the staircase beyond the living room he places a hand on the mahogany rail, then pauses, "Don't follow me."
And ever since that moment, Blake has remained so distant. I wanted so badly for him to take me that night, to feel the pleasure I could give him.
I wanted him to be overcome with a level of euphoria that mother could never offer, and then he would know what he was missing.
But after that bit of fun we'd had on the couch together, Blake was hardly speaking to me.
Sometimes I’d go over after class and find him in his kitchen. I'd ask him the usual questions, like how his day at work was or if he'd had a nice workout at the gym. But every attempt at small talk was futile.
Blake would only give me one or two word responses, if he answered at all. I guess he felt uneasy around me now, like our relationship had changed completely, like it was suddenly awkward.
But I would make him see. No sex from my mom could ever compare to the mind blowing head I could give him, if only he'd ask for it. When it came down to it, being naughty with his neighbor’s daughter again would be a much more thrilling prospect.
What's more, he never got to cum in me, and I knew that was eating away at him. He must be wondering what it would have felt like to blow his wad up my tight little pussy. I bet he couldn't get his mind off what I must taste like down there.
And soon it would be too much for him to bear--overtaken by curiosity and lust, he will be mine.
******
I was waiting in the parking lot of my college for my boyfriend Brent, the one with all the piercings that Mom hated. It had been over an hour now and the jerk still wasn't here. Truth is, the real benefit of having a boyfriend was that I always had someone to drive me around.
They were like my personal taxi cabs, only I paid them in blowjobs. I still didn't have my license, but then I never needed it. Always having a boyfriend meant I always had a ride--in more ways than one.
But that jerk Brent is taking forever. I'm pretty sure he's banging some other chick on the side, but I was about ready to dump his ass anyway. I'm just about to call to yell at him some more when the thought hits me--I could call Blake instead.
He would just be getting off work now. I could call him up, pretending to cry, and tell him some lie about how I desperately needed a ride home.
Honestly, there were lots of other boys I could call. They all knew the deal; driving me around meant you got a blowjob on the way to my desired destination--unless it wasn't a direct route, in which case you got a handy. But I wanted Blake to drive me this time.
We had not had an actual conversation about anything for over a month now. I needed to get into his head, find out what he was thinking.
That's it, I'm going to do it. I pull out the pink flip phone in the back pocket of my cut off jeans and call him. I work up some tears and give him some sob story about being dumped by Brent, and that I needed him to come pick me up right away.
At first he tries to get me to call Mom instead, but I had a line for that
ready. I told him that Mom never understands me anymore, that I really needed someone to talk to right now. Eventually he agrees, though he sounded quite reluctant.
I slam the passenger door of Blake's grey SUV and try to smile at him once I'm settled in the vinyl seats, but he keeps his attention focused straight ahead past the steering wheel.
"Okay day at school?" he says rather brusquely. I give a quick shrug.
"Thanks for picking me up." I'm looking down at my phone, sending a quick text to Brent about what an asshole he is. We sit in total silence for a good long while, and I'm wondering what he must think of me.