Chapter 21

Mitch

 

A man cannot go through his life maintaining the same attitudes and aspirations that he first develops in the formative years of adulthood.

I was a different person to the one I’d been in my early twenties; experience – and my experiences – had changed me. The brash bravado and confidence that makes a young man feel ten feet tall and bulletproof is gradually shed like stripped away armor, and over the course of a man’s life weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exposed.

That was my story; I had accumulated experiences, setbacks and triumphs that altered my path and my perceptions. I was almost unrecognizable from the young guy who thought the world was his for the taking.

Now, at forty-eight, I looked in the mirror and saw someone older and wiser; someone whose path through life had been deviated by emotional detours. Marriage had changed me; walking the same path as my deceased wife had taken my own life’s course on a tangent, and in the process of that journey I had been exposed to the kind of tender emotions that leave unseen bruises on your conscience.

In my work too, I had been left scarred by the consequences of the decisions I had made, and the fallout on everyone my choices had affected. In essence, the hard jagged stone that had been Mitch Stuyversant as a young man had been gradually eroded by experience and sandblasted by emotions so that now the mirror’s reflection of me showed the same physical features but with blurred and softened edges.

My conscience troubled me.

I stood quietly in the bathroom and scrutinized my face as I shaved. It was Saturday morning. In just a few hours Connie would come through my front door and I would once again stand at a crossroads in the course of my life’s journey.

Beyond the obvious age difference, I was wrestling with the implications of a poor decision.

If Connie and I were to have sex, our lives would be irrevocably altered. Mine less than hers, for she was young and still discovering who she was. Did I have the right to influence her life in such a profound manner?

‘Buying’ her virginity had given me some kind of propriety in terms of a transaction, but what we were talking about was not like any other purchase. This was the most intimate gift a young woman could give. It shouldn’t be bought – not for any price.

It should be given, freely and lovingly.

I was violating the sanctity of her right to choose, and the weight of it was a burden that left me haggard and troubled.

I spent the day listlessly; drifting through the house without intent or direction. My mind was a constant turmoil of doubts as my emotions lifted with the desire for her firm beautiful body one minute… only then to plummet to the depths of despair as the guilt came upon me in the next.

When the doorbell rang suddenly at seven o’clock, I almost didn’t answer it. I felt like I was on the precipice of something momentous. The doorbell rang again, and I went to answer it with every question in my mind still unresolved and misgivings hanging over my head like storm clouds.

Connie stood on the front step, her face alight with brimming enthusiasm and nervousness. Her eyes sparkled and there was fresh warm color on her cheeks. Her hair caught the glow of the streetlights and shimmered blonde across the collar of a dark trench coat she was wrapped within.

I held the door open. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing in quick anxious gasps of cold foggy air. She bounced up the last step and into the warmth of the foyer, seeming to spark with the electricity of her exhilaration. In the silence of the house, her heels clacked loudly on the polished timber boards.

“Can I take your coat?”

Connie shook her head. “You better not,” she said – and I could see some reflection of my own turmoil in her eyes. It gave me some relief; we were both having second thoughts.

“It’s quite warm…” I frowned a little. “There’s a fire in the living room.”

Connie’s smile was nervous and unsure. “I’m wearing the schoolgirl outfit you wanted me to wear underneath,” she whispered in a tone that sounded a little like a warning. My heart was beating wildly with my own apprehension, and I sensed the warm inviting smile on my lips begin to quiver into something uncertain.

I understood. I looked into her eyes, sympathetically. “And you’re having second thoughts about this whole thing, aren’t you? You’re not so sure any more that you and I having sex is the best way for you to lose your virginity.”

Connie flinched, and slowly started to shake her head, never once taking her eyes from mine. “No, Mitch,” she said. New resolve came into her voice. “I’m not having second thoughts. I know what’s going to happen tonight – and I want it.”

She started slowly to unbutton the front of the trench coat, her eyes still fixed on mine, still talking. “I just thought you might need a moment to adjust before…”

I stilled her hand on the buttons. “I do,” I cut her off. Connie froze. Her eyes searched my face and I turned away or a moment, my head bowed in furious thought. When I turned back, Connie was waiting. She had unfastened the top three buttons on the coat and through the flaps of the gaping fabric I could see that underneath she was wearing some kind of white blouse. The flesh across her throat and down to the shadow of her cleavage was pale and perfect.

“Are you sure you want this to happen?” Beyond her stated need to pay her debt, I simply could not see any other reason for her to want to have sex with me. There were millions of younger, more suitable guys of her own age. Standing beside her I felt decidedly old.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Connie said. She took my hand impulsively and placed it beneath the fold of the coat, my palm pressed against her heart. Through the thin fabric of her blouse I could feel the sizzle of her flesh and the furious tempo of her heart. “That’s not fear, or dread,” Connie slanted her eyes with significance.

I tried one last time. “If we do…” I broke off to give my next words more emphasis, “I will use you, Connie. I will break your heart… and I will never apologize. I give you this last chance to save yourself for someone you love.”

Connie’s eyes glittered with the sparkling dew of tears. They welled in the lower lids of her eyes and her lipsticked smile quivered.

“It’s too late,” she said. “I know what kind of man you are, Mitch… and I already love you.”

Without another word, Connie undid the rest of the buttons and then peeled the trench coat off her shoulders. She stood, dressed in the uniform of a schoolgirl, and I saw the fear of rejection and the little furrow of worry across her brow as she waited for my reaction.

The blouse was unbuttoned; the tails of the white fabric merely knotted about her midriff so that the cleavage line was all the way down to her navel. I saw the pale swell of her breasts. She had dressed to provocatively display her body and in her excitement her nipples had hardened and pushed through the thin material. The skirt she wore was powder blue and pleated. It flared across the tops of her thighs and cinched tight at her narrow waist. Her legs were very long and tanned to the color of honey.

Connie’s cheeks were flushed rosy, but her eyes were grave and apprehensive. She had her head lowered a little, exposed and vulnerable. Then she licked her lips and lifted her face to stare into my eyes, steeling herself with a courageous thrust of her chin.

I reached out and stroked the bare flesh of her arm, from the point of her elbow all the way up to her shoulder. Connie closed her eyes and shuddered. My fingers glided over her breast, brushing the lump of her nipple through her blouse and she stood without flinching. My hand slipped inside the material and closed around the warm mound of firm flesh. Connie swayed a little and I felt my cock harden with a ferocious clench of arousal that caught me unprepared.

Connie’s lips parted and her eyes slitted open, her expression almost woozy and dream-like. I leaned slowly towards her, my fingers busy and teasing at her nipple, my touch and movements gentle and deliberate to give her every opportunity to pull back.

But she did not move. She saw me closing in to kiss her and she lifted her face a little more to meet my lips. I felt the sudden rush of her relief, the tension seeping from her body to be replaced by a sense of release and wanting.

“Yes!” she hissed in a husky breath. Her arms entangled themselves about my neck and her lips met mine.

I kneaded her back with my fingers. Her mouth was wide open to my lips and her tongue flickered, sinuous and twisting. She leaned back slightly within my embrace to push her pelvis against the thrust of my cock, and then our mouths slid apart and she threw back her head to offer me the pale slender flesh of her throat.

My mouth hunted down her slender neck and she gasped in sudden delicious shock. I felt her fingers seize into claws at my back. She smelled of musk and womanly arousal, tinged with the scent of some simple perfume. I kissed across her chest and then let my lips wander between the dark shadowed cleft of her breasts.

Connie’s fumbling frantic hands unknotted her blouse and she tore it from her shoulders. Her unfettered breasts were firm and rounded. In the dim light from the hallway her flesh seemed carved from gold. I drew her nipple into my mouth, my lips plucking and teasing her. A strangled sob of pleasure was torn from her lips.

I dropped to my knees before her and my hands deftly found the zipper that held her skirt. As I drew it down, the scant fabric gaped from her waist and then slid down to her ankles. She was wearing sheer white panties, very brief, the lace cut high on her hips.

I was mesmerized by the plump mound of her sex beneath the gossamer film, entranced by the promise of the deep triangle that was split by a fold of material rucked up into the cleft. Her flesh beneath the silk was smooth and I pressed my lips to the wedge of her body and inhaled the pure essence of her arousal. I felt Connie’s fingers fist into the hair at the back of my head to hold me against her. I sensed her body sway as though to push us more firmly together. I filled my lungs with the perfume of her and felt the taste of her moist on my tongue through the material.

Connie shuddered and her knees buckled. She had edged her feet wider and now she stood in just her heels and panties with her legs splayed wide apart while I knelt before her like a worshipper. Her body seemed to sway like a tree in the grips of a gale. The heat of her sex melted on my lips until the last shreds of my restraint were torn away.

I got to my feet and hooked my finger possessively inside the lace strap of her panties. Connie’s eyes were deep and solemn and soulful.

“Follow me to the bedroom,” I said, my voice thick and almost unrecognizable in my own ears. “Leave your clothes were they have fallen. You won’t need them again tonight.”

 

 

 

Connie

 

I drifted up the staircase in a daze of lust and aching desire. My feet seemed to not touch the floor. I swear I was floating. I went with Mitch’s finger snared inside my panties, like I was his great prize being led on a short leash, and the subtle submission of it only aroused me even more.

The bedroom was big, the bed vast. The room smelled fresh with just the lingering hint of aftershave and the furniture was dark and antique. Behind and above the bedhead was a window, the curtains tied back to reveal the twinkling stars and the ghostly glow of moonlight. There was a lamp on a bedside table. It was the only light on in the room. Over my shoulder I saw a door that led to an adjoining bathroom. Mitch left me standing at the foot of the bed. He folded down the covers. I turned in a slow circle and saw my reflection in an oval mirror hung facing the bed.

I barely recognized myself. Yes, the body was mine, and I was familiar with my shape, my figure. But the face was like that of a stranger, her eyes shining and excited, her hair tousled, the expression etched in her features one of raw unmistakable lust.

It wasn’t an expression that a girl could authentically mimic, I realized.

It was the look that only a woman knows.

I felt a slow caress down my spine and a gasp choked in my throat. Mitch had come close behind me and I stared at us in the mirror as his hands wrapped around me, cupping my breasts in his palms. His eyes were on me and I watched him lower his mouth to my neck, feeling a voyeuristic disconnection, like I was secretly staring at two other people.

“You will give yourself to me,” I felt the tickle of his breath in my ear. His voice was firm; it was a statement that demanded my obedience. Now that the last of his hesitation had been overcome, he had reverted instinctively to the powerful, commanding man I knew… and wanted.

“Yes,” I whispered. I saw my lips move in the mirror and saw the absoluteness of my own desire in the solemn way I had consented. “I’ll give you everything you want… because I want it too.”

Mitch inhaled a sharp breath of arousal and desire. I felt his lips slide along my neck and I swayed back against him. The last thing I saw of our reflection was my body turning within the embrace of his arms and the swish of my hair across my shoulders.

“Tell me what you want.” Our faces were close, mine lifted to his, sharing the same breaths; the same sexually charged air.

Mitch’s expression was grave, revealing his own emotional detachment. There was a veil draped across his eyes as though to hold back his emotions. For him this moment was about lust and desire… and power.

The thought thrilled me, and somehow freed me too from the surging confusion of my own emotions. I let everything I was feeling dissolve, cast aside in a single long breath, and surrendered myself to the vague instincts and urges of my body.

I felt Mitch’s hands slide up from my breasts until they were pressing gently on my shoulders. I reacted. I lowered myself to my knees before him and ran my hands across the bulge in his pants. I could feel the rock-hard length of him, straining within the confines of his trousers. I worked the buckle of his belt with deft fingers and then drew down the zipper. Mitch clawed his hands into the tangle of my hair and I felt his whole body tense. His legs were braced, his hips thrust forward and his back arched. I took his hard cock in both my hands and fluttered my fingers along the shaft.

“Do you like that?” I made my eyes wide and innocent, my voice soft and naïve as I looked up into his face.

“Yes!” Mitch hissed.

One of my hands slipped down to cup the heavy weight of his balls and I blew warm breath across the swollen crown of his engorged cock.

“Am I your good little girl?”

“Yes!” Mitch’s voice rasped with a spark of intensity.

I opened my mouth and engulfed the first few inches of his shaft, clamping my lips tight and feeling the sizzling heat of him. My tongue swished around the swollen head, hot and moist and hungry. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations; the gripping pulse of him as his body clenched and his cock leaped like a living thing between the trap of my lips. I could hear soft mewling sounds of satisfaction and with a small startle I realized the noise came from me as I savored the pleasure of feeling Mitch sliding across my lips.

I felt a wave of giddy recklessness wash over me. It was something I’d never experienced before – a phenomenon like being drunk or maybe drugged. Every sensation seemed to be magnified. The ridges along the length of Mitch’s cock seemed enhanced, and the sounds I made as my lips drew him deeper into my mouth seemed amplified.

I bobbed my head up and down, responding to some primal rhythm I didn’t understand, but instead sensed. At the same time I felt my body rocking to the same instinctive beat. It was as if all of me was consumed by the need to give pleasure, and without consciously being aware of what I was doing, my free hand slid down inside my panties, drawn to touch myself. I felt the flood of my own wet warmth sticky on my fingers. My clit ached and throbbed.

Mitch was breathing deeply and I paid attention to his sharp hisses of lust as my mouth played along the length of his cock like it was a musical instrument. Slowly I began to understand those things and movements that enticed the fiercest responses, and gauged my success by the delightful hardness of him.

At last I felt the claws of his hands tighten. He seized my head like it was clamped in a vice. I let my mouth hang slack. My lips felt puffed and swollen, like soft pink pillows.

“Stay still,” Mitch grunted, then thrust forward with his hips. His cock sawed across my tongue and I felt my mouth fill with saliva. He withdrew himself until just the tip of him stayed clamped between my lips. I sucked in a lungful of breath and then he drove himself deep into my mouth again. His cock was large and thick. I felt an instant of reflexive resistance… and then I forced my body to go soft and pliant. He was fucking my mouth, using long and deliberate thrusts that weren’t designed to draw him to the brink of his orgasm, but rather for the thrill of dominating and using me. I felt my eyes watering and gulped in more air.

“Yes…” Mitch’s voice was coarsened and his eyes blazed with a fierce passion. His mouth was wrenched into a grimace, the muscles across his chest and along his forearms flexed. In response, I knelt limp as a ragdoll – overwhelmed by the command and presence of him.

His cock slid from between my lips as he withdrew again and I was seized by a lustful instant of abandon, still swooning with the intoxication of my own arousal.

“Do you like fucking your little girl’s mouth… Daddy?” I whispered.

Mitch recoiled. The words, once uttered, seemed scandalously sinful. His expression changed and his gaze flickered. The dazed glassy fog of his rising excitement suddenly vanished as his eyes slammed into sharp focus.

He pressed his lips together into a thin bloodless line and his eyebrows furrowed. He cast me a narrowed scrutinizing stare like he had never before seen me so clearly.

I held my breath. I could feel my heart racing. The fraught, dreadful silence lasted only a moment but it seemed an eternity. Mitch gasped, and then seemed possessed by some dark secret instinct that was suddenly unleashed. He pulled my gaping mouth back onto his cock with a grunt of animal passion that scared me to new heights of excitement.

“Yes!” he growled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “Yes!” he said it again, almost like a curse. “Daddy wants to fuck his sweet little girl.”

He was like an irresistible force of nature and it was all I could do to merely submit to everything he demanded of me. I had tempted him to that dark place deep in his own mind and opened a door of fantasies and desires that he had kept so tightly locked. Now there was no more restraint. Now we were acting out our illicit taboo desires and it swept us both away with all of its liberating momentum.

I took his cock with new hunger, delighting in the swelling thrust of it as it pushed deeper down my throat. My tongue was wild and slithering, teasing and sucking. My fingers dipped deep inside myself and I was shocked at how wet I was. My panties were soaked, the room filled with the heady musky perfume of my wanton desire.

At last I felt Mitch tightening; his cock pulsed and the heavy sway of his balls brushed against my chin. He stepped back suddenly and I groaned. Without him inside my mouth I felt strangely incomplete. I looked up into his face.

Mitch had his hands on his hips, his chest heaving, the undulations of his abdominal muscles like the rippled ridges of a windswept desert. I hadn’t even realized that he had removed his shirt. Now I ran my eyes over the whorls of dark curling hair across his chest, remembering that night in Moscow when I had crept into his room like a thief.

“Use your hand,” he muttered. His voice was husky, his features coarse.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The length and thickness of his cock made my hand seem small. My fingers could not completely wrap around his shaft. He covered my hand with his own, moving it towards the head of his cock and then tightening my grip.

“Like that?” I said in an innocent baby-girl voice as I began to work my fingers, squeezing and loosening, as I jerked in a steady rhythm.

“Faster,” Mitch said. “And take the end of me between your lips.”

I leaned forward and engulfed the swollen purple head of him, flickering the tip of my tongue across the sensitive flesh while trying to match the movement of my hand. Mitch began to groan.

“Good girl,” he breathed over and over again like he was chanting a mantra. “You’re such a good girl for your daddy.”

The narcotic of this taboo role-play we were acting out was addictive and made incredibly real by our age difference and my sexual innocence. It was – I realized with a delicious tingling shudder – exactly what had been missing from my life.

Watching Mitch’s face from the corner of my eye as I sucked and stroked him, I felt myself melting effortlessly and completely into the role that had been the catalyst for my sexual awakening. I felt like I belonged in this place; in this man’s life.

For me, it felt in every emotional and physical way… authentic.

I worshipped his cock, humming in the back of my throat as my lips tried to suck the salty splash of his cum from him. My fingers tingled and Mitch’s cock pulsed and leaped. I heard the pant of his breathing become faster and more strained. At the last moment his body clenched like the iron-tight grip of a fist, and he stepped away.

“Get on the bed,” he rasped.

 

 

 

Mitch

 

Connie rose to her feet and moved like a wraith to the bed. I positioned her on her back and she spread her legs instinctively. I lay close beside her and studied her face in the starlight. She was achingly beautiful.

She sensed my eyes and she turned her face to mine. I felt the little gasps of her breath on my lips and my cheeks. I bowed over her and kissed her with a lingering tenderness that quickly began to smolder into something more urgent as her mouth responded to mine and her tongue flickered hungrily.

I caressed her throat and breasts with gentle touches of my hand, plucking at the nipples and then drawing lines with my fingertips towards her navel. She lifted her head off the bed to keep our mouths locked, clinging to my neck as my touch reached the waistband of her panties.

When I brushed my fingers over the hot damp patch of her sex she stiffened like she had been electrocuted and flung herself back on the mattress. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, her arms by her side and her hands fisting into the bedsheets.

“Do you like the way I touch you, baby girl?” It was my turn to tease. My voice was barely audible, even in the silence of the night.

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” Connie breathed. My cupped hand was rubbing across the folds of silk that had been made sodden by her arousal. Each time I brushed my palm over her clit, she involuntarily bucked and arched her hips. I could see the definition of the muscles in her thighs, so tightly was she drawn by desire.

I was intensely aware that this would be Connie’s first time, and so I resolved to restrain the urge to rush. There would be opportunities for primal lust and pure physical pleasure in the future; I wanted this one moment to be sensory and soulful.

My fingers tugged at the waistband of her panties and drew them down. Connie kicked them aside. I feasted on the sight of her smooth shaved sex and then dipped one finger within the soft folds of her. Connie whimpered and I felt her hand clench at my shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“More!” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Please, Daddy.”

My touch reached deeper within the wet grip of her pussy. Connie’s breathing became hectic. She started to grind her hips down on me in an attempt to take the press of my finger all the way inside her. I teased her mercilessly, until her bones turned to jelly and she lay limp and quivering. The slightest pressure made her flinch and moan; the delicious provocation of my touch had her drawn finely out on the torture rack of an orgasm.

Moving slowly, I changed my position on the bed until I was between her spread legs, my mouth wandering across her abdomen leaving a trail of lingering wet kisses. Connie lay flat on her back, panting, with her eyes wide open and her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Her breasts heaved and undulated with every fresh breath, and the muscles in her thighs twitched in spasms. My mouth reached the mound of her sex and I inhaled the intoxicating perfume of her arousal.

Her pussy glistened with the moisture of her excitement. I drew my tongue all the way along the folds of her, tasting the tang of her body and exploring the crevices and jutting nub of her clit. Connie cried out – a sound on the edge of exquisite frustration.

“Oh, God!”

I trapped her clit between my gentle lips and felt it throbbing. My tongue strummed across the sensitive bud until Connie began to writhe on the bed. Her back arched and her pussy pressed hard against my mouth.

“I’m going to come!”

I kept my rhythm constant, neither licking faster or slower. Connie’s breath turned frantic and I saw her hands claw at the bunched bedsheets. Suddenly her whole body was drawn tight as a bow. She seemed to choke on a breath and hold it. Her legs splayed wider and she dug her heels into the mattress. Then her orgasm crashed over her and she bucked and thrashed and twisted against my mouth like she was being flung about in a storm-tossed surf. A rush of warm juice spilled across my tongue and I lapped it up like a man dying of thirst. She tasted sweet and fresh. I kept gently licking her pussy until at last the surge of release had subsided and she lay gasping and broken and quiet.

We both sensed the moment had come. Connie lay languid, her expression dreamy and distant, as I covered her body with my own. We fitted together so perfectly; I kissed her with a slow rising heat as my cock pressed against the open folds of her pussy.

Her arms came around me, down on my hips and I drew a trail of wet kisses along the soft flesh of her throat. The first inch of my cock slid within the wetness of her pussy and Connie groaned, then drew herself tense with anticipation.

I plucked at her nipple with my lips, suspended above her and bracing my weight on my forearms. We stayed like that for a while, each of us gripped in the trance of sensations. When I felt her relax and adjust, I kissed her again and then fixed my gaze on her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and she was breathing softly but quickly. I adjusted my weight again and another inch of my cock slid inside her. Connie’s emotions played out in her expressions; her eyes screwed tightly shut, the flush of color that rose to her cheeks, the whimper in the back of her throat.

I drew a last breath and then kissed her fiercely, attacking her mouth in a passion of desire.

And at the same instant, I thrust all the way into her.

I felt a moment of resistance; like pushing through the veils of a velvet curtain, and then there was just our bodies, locked deeply together, moving and clinging to each other in the dark star-filled night.

 

 

 

Connie

 

Mitch’s cock felt so huge as it pushed into me that for a brief flickering instant I was overcome with a sense of terror. I screwed my eyes tightly shut and tried to concentrate on the sensations – the feeling of utter fullness. Then he pressed deeper and I felt that I was being split asunder. A lightheaded wash of black numbness swept over me. I tightened my grip on his waist, clinging desperately to him. His lips swarmed across my mouth, hungry and insistent and it was all I could do to meet his kisses.

Then, at last, he thrust all the way inside me and I cried out in relief and disbelief. The terror faded and was replaced by a spiritual sense of completeness; of sanctity. I marveled at these new emotions and was overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude and fulfillment.

Mitch had made a woman out of me… and now I wanted to show him just what kind of woman I was willing to be. Mitch was a ruggedly handsome, powerful man. I was sure there had been plenty of women in his life both before, and after, his wife.

I figured that being a pretty young blonde lying passively beneath him was going to hold his interest for about thirty seconds. After that, he would want and need someone in his bed that could keep him satisfied and fascinated.

I had a powerful daddy fantasy, and Mitch too seemed aroused by the roles we had slipped into… but that didn’t mean I had to be his good little girl…

I rocked my hips and began to undulate my body, drawing Mitch inside me until I had all of him. His features were contorted with the sensations of our lovemaking. I heard the hoarse rasp of his breath and felt his muscles slowly tense and strain. I hooked my heels around the back of his legs and slid my hands up over his shoulders until they were wrapped around his neck.

My movements were instinctive and raw; my body took on a life of its own as though each grind and flex was predestined. I tightened the muscles of my pussy, gripping his cock as tightly as I could, and was rewarded with a deep groan of pleasure.

“Fuck me, Daddy!” the words were shockingly taboo in my own ears, drawn from some dark place beyond my reason. “Fuck my tight little pussy and fill me with your cum. Give me every inch of your beautiful cock,” I gasped between ragged breaths, our faces just inches apart. I could see the gleam of arousal sparking lights in Mitch’s eyes and he thrust harder. I welcomed him with a wanton groan and then encouraged him for more.

“I need your hot cum,” the words sounded like the desperate plea of a whore. “You have to fill me. I want every drop of your hot seed. Fuck! Please come inside my tight little pussy, Daddy!”

We were rocking together in an ever-faster rhythm that was building towards Mitch’s climax. I could feel my heart racing. It was cool outside but here in the bedroom I was damp with sweat. Our bodies slapped together and the sounds of passion rose higher and higher.

When I sensed he was reaching the brink of his orgasm, I slid one hand down between our clenched bodies and strummed my fingers across my clit. My pussy was wet and sticky with the juices of our passion. My touch lit the fuse to an orgasm of my own and I cried out, desperate for the release.

“I’m going to come again!” My tone was strained and incredulous. “Keep fucking me, Daddy! Fuck your little girl’s tight pussy and we’ll come together. Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck meeeeeee!”

We exploded together in groans and cries of ecstasy and release. Mitch roared and I felt his cock swell then explode, hot and molten. At the same instant my own body betrayed me, spasming violently as I thrashed beneath him in the tangled sheets.

For a moment my vision exploded into flashing, blinding light… and then the world turned dark and drifting.

I seemed to come back from a place far away, floating on the lightness of my orgasm. I was staring up at the ceiling, feeling the race of my heart beginning to subside and the sweat of our exertions slowly drying cool on my arms and between my breasts. I was filled with a sense of wonder and bliss. Mitch’s leg was tangled with mine and we lay like survivors of an explosion, bodies entwined, until at last I felt him stir and I turned my head. He was watching me, his expression contemplative. All the unrestrained passion that had buoyed me to abandon had faded. Now I was unsure again.

“Was that… was it…?” I asked in a little voice.

Mitch was standing beside the bed, stepping into his pants. He ran his eyes over my body as though to burn the vision into his memory.

“Was it what?” his voice was gentle. “Worth the money I paid?”

I shook my head. He was toying with me. “Was it good for you?” I hated myself but I couldn’t erase the neediness in my voice.

“Yes,” Mitch said, and stroked my hair with his fingers. “It was incredible, Connie. And I hope it was a good experience for you too.”

I sat up and nodded my head, my eyes solemn. “Oh, yes,” I said, wanting to convince him. “It was everything I had ever dared to dream about – and more.”

Mitch hung a lopsided smile from the corner of his mouth and buckled his belt. He was bare chested, his body still glistening as though the muscles had been oiled. “I’m going to go downstairs and make coffee,” he said gently. “It will give you a few moments to yourself. When you’re ready, come down to the kitchen. We need to talk.”