Home    Longer Works    Short Stories    Flash Fiction    Blog    About    Contact

This site contains explicit stories of sexual & kinky fantasies and is not intended for readers under 18.

Renting a Girl from the Mall

by | taboo | 0 comments

The first time Mark saw her, she was outside his favorite bookstore, red-faced and arguing with another girl. They looked like college kids. He wasn’t sure why he noticed her but he did. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying because he was inside the store and they were on the other side of the large window in the front, but they certainly seemed upset about something.

Mark, who was thirty-something and had no good reason to be watching two college girls argue, casually moved to the self-help section where he could see them up close as they mutely fought on the other side of the glass.

The one girl, the one he was instantly fascinated with, looked like a Japanese anime character with her large eyes and her colorful clothes–not to mention the hooded sweatshirt with the kitten ears on top.

Her eyes were outlined thickly with black makeup and her lips were painted purple like her nails. She wore purple fingerless gloves and a black ribbon like a choker around her neck. She had rainbow striped leggings, a short denim skirt, a low cut black T-shirt and the aforementioned hooded sweatshirt, which was purple and had some cartoon character on the back of it.

Mark was enamored immediately, but in a vague daydreamy way. He wasn’t the kind of man who would hit on a teenager, at least not now. When he was twenty-five it was a different story, but at thirty-five it was downright indecent to consider. Still the way the girl argued with the other girl, who was boring-looking in jeans and a band T-shirt, awoke hungers.

The girl caught him watching her suddenly and turned to the window, sticking her tongue out and flipping him the bird. He tried to pretend he wasn’t looking at her, but the smile escaped onto his lips too quickly for him to stop it.

There was something adorable about her attitude.

It was a week later when Mark saw the girl again. She was sitting in the science fiction section of the same bookstore, engrossed in some graphic novel when he walked by. She was wearing a short black skirt this time, with long black socks that went up to the middle of her thighs just below where her skirt ended. She had the purple hoodie on again, this time zipped all the way up. Her hair was shoulder length and unnaturally black. The hood of her sweatshirt wasn’t up but she wore another pair of cat ears like one you would get for a Halloween costume. The effect was somehow less comical and more sexy, at least to him.

She looked up as he walked by and her gaze met his again. She made a face of disgust and cut her eyes at him. Mark laughed and kept walking. He wondered what she must think of him. He was tallish, thinnish, rather well dressed. He wore thick black rimmed glasses and he thought he gave off the air of a sort of intellectual. To her, he imagined he looked like an adult who was completely nerdy and uncool.

Mark sat in the magazine section and smiled to himself, remember the days of being a teenage rebel.

It happened like that three or four times over the next month. For some reason he kept bumping into her and she kept noticing his interest and giving him a nice little dose of her attitude.

She had become a character in his imagination. He wondered about her life and thought about what she did all day, who her friends were and what they all did. It was bad, he knew it, but it was harmless. She was probably a college dropout, from the odd hours she was in the store and her lack of books or laptop.

He was pretty sure by the fourth good look at her that she was part-Asian and part-European. She was one of those kids who dressed wild and listened to crazy music. He wanted her.

She wasn’t exactly thin, she had this sort of baby fat around her belly and cheeks, plus a pretty ample chest. She also had a round ass that made him cringe with desire. She was short, he guessed and even five feet. She was delicious.

One spring day she noticed him watching her from over his book and she rolled her eyes at him and pouted with hate. She was very angry about something. Mark remembered being mad all the time when he was a teenager, so it wasn’t very surprising. He took out his laptop and booted it up. He continued to watch her and this time she didn’t look away. She seemed both curious and a little creeped out at the same time. After a month of catching each others’ eyes it was almost like they knew each other.

When she got off the phone she stood up and walked towards his table. He closed his laptop and picked his book back up. It was The Lover by Marguerite Duras. She walked hesitantly to him and eyed him with suspicion. He met her eyes and cleared his throat.

“Were you staring at me?” she accused, in a bratty and accusatory tone.

“Well, you saw me looking at you, so I guess you know the answer,” he replied calmly.

She seemed confused by his response.

“Well, stop staring at me, jerk. Every time I come here I always seem to see you and you’re always staring, so stop,” she said, pouting and again narrowing her eyes.

Mark gave her a half smile, which she didn’t return, and replied with a simple “No.”

She furled her eyebrows at that answer. “I’m eighteen, you know. What would people think about a grown man staring at a teenage girl?”

Mark scoffed and smiled wider. “They’d think I was a guy in a bookstore who didn’t do anything and you were a little girl who was legally an adult, with an overactive imagination. Anyhow, you’re wearing a short skirt, a somewhat low cut top and cat ears; I don’t think I’m the first person who’s ever stared at you.”

She pulled at her neckline, realizing it was a bit low. She had a look of pure fury in her eyes and she seemed to be pouting and getting ready to throw a tantrum like a three-year-old.

“Asshole,” she sputtered and then stomped away. Mark laughed again and thought how lovely she looked when she was mad.

A few days later Mark found himself in the bookstore again. It was a boring little town and there was not much else to do for him. So he spent a lot of time there reading, browsing, waiting for something to happen. That day, he was researching a trip he was thinking of taking. He had a table full of travel guides and maps when the little brat came in again, sitting in a different chair. They were in the travel section, which was a bit isolated from the rest of the store.

She was pouting again, this time she seemed very agitated about something specific. She was dressed in a black school girl type skirt with long purple socks that reached just above her knees, leaving a few unmercifully lovely inches of exposed thigh between the socks and the skirt. She wore the T-shirt of some band Mark had never heard of, which was a few sizes too small and amplified her breasts, which were somewhat large for her frame.

She was angrily tapping on the tiny keyboard of her phone and sighing and pounding on the arm of the chair when she got the reply. It took her a good ten minutes to even notice that Mark was there and when she saw him she rolled her eyes dramatically and stuck her middle finger at him.

Mark smiled at her. He stared and ate up every inch of her little outfit and the bare inches that her skirt revealed. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and pulled at the bottom of her skirt and then the tops of her socks.

Her phone rang again and she answered it with a “What!?”

Mark looked at his book, but listened intently.

“I told you there is no way! My card is already maxed out and my dad is going to kill me. He’s not going to give me anything.” Mark could hear the person on the other end yelling.

“Ok, stop yelling at me! I can maybe get you $200 in like a week.” She paused and Mark heard more shouting. “Just wait! Let me see what I can do, okay? Just don’t tell anyone about anything, okay? Give me a day at least. Okay?” she closed the little phone with a loud snap and threw it on the floor.

Mark watched her from the corner of his eye as she stood up and looked around for where her phone had landed. It went under the chair she was sitting on, so she got down on her knees and fished it out, giving him a perfect view of her purple-panty-covered ass. Any pretense of not staring was now out the window as Mark let out an involuntary growl of approval.

The girl turned, still on her knees, and glared at him. She awkwardly held her skirt down and got up with her phone, stomping over to him.

“What the fuck’s your problem, mister?”

Mark was still smiling at her. “I don’t have any problems, but it sounds like you do, though.”

She fumed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You got a big problem, staring at my ass and listening to my conversation, you fucking jerk.”

Mark laughed and shook his head. “What a foul little mouth you have.”

She stomped her foot and clenched her jaw. “How ’bout I open my foul little mouth and scream rape and get you arrested? How about that?”

Mark laughed some more. “Sounds fun since there is a camera right over there,” he said pointing to the wall across from them, “and I’m obviously doing nothing of the sort.”

“Whatever. You’re an old pervert.” she said rolling her eyes again, which made Mark more and more aroused by her bratty little attitude.

“Maybe. I’ve been called worse. So what’s the money trouble you’re in?”

She rolled her eyes again and scoffed. “Like I’d tell you.”

Her phone rang again and she went back to her chair and answered it, this time talking lower and covering the phone with her hand. She eyed Mark the whole time. When she was done she stomped back over.

“Why do you want to know about my problems anyway, jerk?”

Mark smiled. It was a knowing smile. It was a winning smile because he was winning.

“Just curious. I was a kid once with problems. I wasn’t always a dirty old man.”

She scowled, but her anger was cracking.

“I just fucked up. Not that it’s any of your business. And I need to come up with some money.”

He looked her up and down again, focusing on her legs and where the top of her socks almost met the bottom of her skirt.

“How much?”

She looked repulsed again. “I can’t believe I even told you that. You’re like a child molester or something.” She spun around and stomped away, heading towards the exit.

That night Mark thought about the girl. He dreamed about her and the desire crystallized in his head. He didn’t know how, but he knew he had to have her.

The next day at the bookstore he watched her from behind a bookshelf. She was talking to one of the managers. At first Mark got concerned because he thought she might be talking about him. He hadn’t done anything, but being asked about why he was ogling a eighteen-year-old, even by a pimple-faced bookstore manager, would be embarrassing. Mark’s fears abated as he saw the girl take an application from the manager.

She had let it slip that she had money problems, and it looked like she was trying to find a solution. A plan formed in Mark’s head.

Mark lived somewhat far away from the bookstore, but had a certain fondness for it because it was one of the few privately owned and run bookstores in town. He had also gone to college with the owner, Patricia, and occasionally went to lunch with her.

He wondered if he could ask to see the application the girl filled out. He wondered if he could ferret out information. In the end it was the young girl who initiated the next conversation a few days later.

Mark was by his car when he saw the little brat again. She was walking towards him as he put his bag of travel guides in the back seat.

“Hey–” she called out to him, but she didn’t say anything else when he got to the car.

“Hey,” he replied, closing the door and leaning against it facing her.

She looked down, not sure what to say. She swallowed and kicked the floor.

“So are you still having that money problem?” he said with a practiced casual tone.

She glared at him. “Yes.”

He nodded and ate her up again with his eyes. “How much?”

She winced at the question. “Seven hundred dollars,” she said, suddenly sounding a lot more like an eighteen-year-old.

“That’s not very much,” he said, again casually. He smiled again, a Cheshire Cat smile.

She scoffed. “Not much? I have like fourteen bucks to my name.”

He suddenly stopped smiling and looked her right in the eyes. They locked stares for a minute.

“I have money.” He said it, it was out there. He crossed the line and now he would see what would happen.

She swallowed. There was no more attitude. She was starting to cry a little.

“I did some stupid stuff with my dad’s credit card. I can fix it if I can get like $700. I can, like, pay it back. I mean–”

“I’m not interested in being paid back,” he said, his voice coldly serious.

She sniffled.

“I did some stupid stuff before. He’s going to like, kick me out or make me live with my grandmother or–” he cut her off.

“What’s your name?”

She sniffled again. “Megan.”

“Megan, I have $1000 in cash at my apartment.” His voice was flat. He was all business.

She sobbed a little.

“Megan, I think you understand what I’m saying.”

She continued to look down at the ground and nodded once.

“You’ll have to stay all night. I’m making the rules; you can choose to take my offer or not. I will be perfectly safe, I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, but it’s all night and it’s whatever I want. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She sobbed again. “I can’t,” she croaked.

He sighed. “Then good luck, Megan. I really hope you figure it all out.” He turned around and opened the door of his car.

“Wait!” She walked towards him.

“I… can we just… I mean… maybe I can do something, but not like… I can’t just–” she was trying to think of a way, to give him just enough for him to give her the money.

“I’m not going to kill you and if you come to my house I’m not going to have to rape you, am I?”

She stopped crying and now she was staring intently at the floor clenching her jaw.

“Can you give me half first?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“How do I know you won’t, like, not pay me?”

Mark got into his car, started the engine and then rolled down his window.

“I think if you do this and don’t like how I handle my end, you will probably have some opportunity to bring all sorts of horrible attention to my little offer. I’m taking a big chance in doing this, but you’re so–” he stopped himself from finishing the sentence.

She looked up and eyed him. “So what?”

He smiled again. “So delicious.”

She frowned at this but also squirmed under his gaze.

“$1000?”

He nodded. “$1000.”

She suddenly turned around and walked a few steps away. She took out her phone and talked on it for a few minutes. When she was done she walked quickly to the other side of the car, opened the door and got in. She wasn’t crying anymore.

“Drive.”

Mark lived in a very ritzy and hip part of town. Megan watched the building go by as he drove, and held her knapsack close to her chest. She was undertaking something totally new and completely insane, but something that was in a lot of ways intriguing and something that would solve a great deal of her problems. She felt like she had made a deal with the devil, and the devil happened to be an attractive thirtysomething who drove a Prius.

He lived in a townhouse and there was something scary about how he drove right into the garage and closed the door behind them. Like no one would even see her get out of the car.

When he stopped the car he looked at her seriously.

“My address is 215 Beach Street. If you want to tell your friends where you are that’s fine. I don’t want to make you scared or anything.”

She did text that to her best friend and then she followed Mark up some stairs and into a very modern and very well decorated apartment.

Mark watched her as she followed him into his home and tried to hide a smile at her sudden shyness and nervousness. Her attitude was gone now. Those pouting lips seemed to tremble as she looked around Mark’s apartment.

“So, um, Mark,” she said anxiously as she walked up to his large bookshelf and fingered the spines of a row of books, “I don’t really need $1000, I only need $700. What if we just–”

Mark cut her off with a sigh.

“No, this isn’t going to work. I can drive you back to the bookstore or you can take the bus, your choice.”

She huffed and stomped once on the floor.

“Okay, okay! God, you don’t have to be a dick about it. I’ll do it, I was just like… negotiating.”

Mark eyed her.

“Listen Megan, I’m going to the bathroom. While I’m in there I want you to take off your panties and sit on the couch. If I come back and your panties aren’t on my coffee table, then I will take that to mean you don’t want the $1000 and I will make sure you get home. Okay? Negotiation over,” and with that Mark walked to the bathroom and Megan was alone in his living room.

There was a pang of something in his chest when Mark looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. It wasn’t guilt, it was fear. If she left then she would have no reason not to tell someone. At the least he wouldn’t be able to go back to his favorite bookstore. At most he was going to jail.

When he opened the door he could see her just sitting down on the couch again. On the table was a little ball of purple cotton.

Walking closer he saw that the ball wasn’t her panties, but her socks and that she was fumbling with a garter belt. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Um, it’s yes, I mean, I’m just, I couldn’t get my garter belt off. It keeps up my socks.”

There she sat with her panties at her knees, unsure of what to do. Mark looked down at her and then looked down at the panties around her knees and laughed.

“Well, they’re mostly off. I’m going to accept it.”

Kneeling down in front of her, he pushed her legs up so that she was sitting back on the couch with her legs in the air, knees held together by the panties.

He slipped one hand down her firm young thighs, noting how tan she was. Then, as his eyes moved up her thighs, he saw that that tan came to an abrupt stop at her crotch. His fingers slipped across her tan line.

“No, no, this isn’t going to do.”

As much as she was dreading what he was going to do with her, she looked hurt at this.

“Um, what? Is something wrong?” He regarded her with apologetic eyes.

“It’s the hair, it’s got to go. I’m sorry, I should have said. I like it smooth; I need it to be smooth.” He stood, awkwardly, and went to the bathroom. She heard him rooting around in there for a few minutes and when he came out he had a towel and a smile.

“Up, up. We’re going to give you a bath.”

She stood and couldn’t help but laugh. It was one of the odder moments of what was one of the oddest days of her life.

She got off the couch and followed him into one of the largest bathrooms she’d seen, outside of the hotel her parents took her to when she went to Disney World for her 14th birthday. Her bare feet were freezing on the cold tiles and so she sat on the toilet as she watched him test the temperature of the water from the faucet before stopping the drain and filling the large, very modern-looking bathtub with water.

As the bathtub slowly filled Mark looked around in the cabinet under his sink. His ex-girlfriend had been an extremely high-maintenance girl from Connecticut and Mark still had a little basket of her products tucked away. Expensive lotions, creams, shampoos and things Mark couldn’t even name. Pulling out the basket he picked the shampoo and conditioner that he remembered smelled the best. He got out the body wash and special sponge she’d used. He handed each to the girl and looked through his own things for more products to use on the girl while she bathed.

Getting out his razor and a new blade, he set them down next to his ex’s exfoliating lotions and aftershave creams. The girl eyed the razor nervously but said nothing. It wasn’t like the little blue disposable razors she’d seen her father use every morning or even the flowery pink ones she used on her legs. This was a large old-fashioned thing that you filled with large razor blades. It made her nervous.

When the tub was halfway full, Mark filled it with some salts and soaps and it got a bit bubbly and filled the bathroom with the sweet smell of lavender and wildflowers. It was almost enough to make Megan forget about the situation she was in.

Her predicament came back to her when he looked at her, walked over and pulled off her shirt. He then rather expertly unhooked her bra and took it off.

Naked, she felt shy and very young. It didn’t help that a tall older man was running her a bath. It was cold though and the bath looked invitingly warm. The room smelled deliciously sweet and comforting and in the morning, after all of this, all of her money problems would be over and she would have extra money in her pocket.

With a half a smile she let Mark help her up and then eased herself into the almost-too-hot water.

Mark’s face was calm and serene as he went about washing the girl. With his hands slippery with expensive shea-butter soap he smoothed them over her arms and shoulders and spent a great deal of time on her breasts.

Mark marveled at more tan lines around her breasts. He wasn’t sure why he found tan lines so alluring, but he wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that they specifically marked what parts of a woman were off-limits. It was like a little indicator to show which areas were supposed to be forbidden. There he was, though, soaping the D-cups of a teenage girl he’d picked up in a mall. The dirtiness and danger got him hard almost as much as the girl did.

When he finished washing her hair and body, Mark emptied the bathtub and pulled down the removable showerhead. Getting some of the fancy shaving cream, he lathered up the girl’s legs with the practiced ease of someone who had shaved his face all his life and had more than once shaved his ex’s legs.

He liked this act, the intimacy and the accuracy of it. Looking at it from the outside, one might even think that she was the one paying. She was lying back in the tub, lounging even, as he carefully depilated her legs. He made sure not to nick her even once as he went over her knees and every curve and angle of her hips and thighs. He then washed off her legs and lotioned them up. He then pulled her legs up so that her ankles hung over the high sides of the tub and he lotioned up the girl’s patch of pubic hair.

He took his time. He pushed and pulled the girl, even putting one of her legs over his shoulder to get every hair. He shaved her bare, from top to bottom, even making the girl turn around and bend over so that he could make sure there wasn’t a stray hair around back. That caused the girl to pause for the first time, but a scolding look from Mark made her obey.

Then he used a special lotion he remembered his ex using when she shaved her bikini line. When he was done he handed the girl a towel. He picked up two little hair bands from the basket and put them on the sink.

“Pigtails,” he commanded simply and turned away.

“What, do you want me to be a little girl or something?” she laughed.

He turned around seriously and looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, can you handle that?”

She looked down, not able to keep a lock on his intense gaze. She nodded submissively and bit her lip.

In his bedroom Mark looked through a box on the back shelf of his closet. He had a few little bits of clothes left from his ex. He found what he was looking for: the over-the-knee socks she sometimes wore under skirts. She had known that they drove him crazy. He got a plain white pair and brought them to the girl in the bathroom.

She was brushing her wet hair and looking in the mirror. She had half her hair in a pigtail and was gathering up the second.

“Put these on and nothing else,” he said, placing the long socks on the sink, “then go into the bedroom.”

For Mark it felt good to be cold, not to engage in the false little niceties of small talk. He went into the bedroom and stripped off his shirt and pants, then the blankets off the bed. There was a little war going on in his mind and his body; the desire to fuck her versus the desire to draw it all out.

In his sex life, which had been pretty stable since high school, he’d always seemed to be biding his time. He always seemed to be measuring his wants against what he could ask for. What he thought he would get. What he imagined was appropriate. What $1000 was really buying him was a shortcut.

Hell, if he spent enough time online, wooing, cajoling, conniving, he could have eventually gotten some pretty college girl up to his place. Then there would have been hours of kissing and seducing.

This transaction was exactly what he wanted. As he thought that, the eighteen-year-old girl he’d just shaved walked into his bedroom in nothing but pigtails and thigh-high white socks.

Black hair, skin the color of a very light cafe au lait, then much paler where the tan lines hit: her breasts, her crotch. Then the white of the socks. It was all like a dartboard, lines of color pointing directly to her pussy.

“On the bed, head on the pillows, legs spread,” Mark said as he got a little box from the closet and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed.

The bed itself was huge. Probably a king or California king, though Megan didn’t really know what the difference was. All she knew was that it was huge and she could feel his eyes on her as she climbed on top of it and crawled to the top, her ass in the air, and then turned around, laid her head on the pillow and opened her legs.

It had been a while since she’d shaved everything off and she had forgotten the way every movement of her legs made her aware of her pussy and how bare it suddenly was. Between that and the humiliating fact that she was basically a paid whore, her body was in a state of very complicated arousal. She didn’t understand why her body was reacting that way–maybe it just knew it was going to get fucked and so it was preparing itself. Maybe deep down she thought it was hot to be paid for sex. Whatever it was, she was very wet and her heart was racing.

Mark stood at the foot of the bed and just looked at her. Looked at every inch of her. He was wearing a wife-beater and boxer shorts, but Megan was pretty sure the shorts were silk. His cock was hard under them.

He climbed onto the bed and settled down on his stomach so that he was lying in front of her open legs, face inches from her crotch. She looked down at him with huge nervous eyes.

She smelled like soap and lotion and pussy. He breathed it in. The bare lips of her sex were a little puffy, very neat, small inner lips that were almost hidden. The first lick was heaven. A few hours ago she was a little punk girl on the street. Someone he would walk past and bite his lip because she was so delectable. Now she was laid out in front of him and his tongue was slipping into her wet pussy.

She squirmed, but he was oblivious. He sucked and licked at her and grinned as he realized exactly how wet she was. She squirmed more and he looked up at her, annoyed.

“Um, I don’t really like that, you don’t have to do it–” she said with a sour frown.

He stared at her from between her legs.

“This really isn’t about what you like, is it?” he said seriously.

She flushed, which was a bit silly for the situation, and said, “Oh, right, um, go to town I guess.”

And he did just that.

She’d had guys try and go down on her before and even a girl once, but it was never something she enjoyed. She wasn’t sure she was enjoying it this time, but he certainly seemed to be. He was licking every inch of her, slipping his tongue into her, even licking down and slipping his tongue over her ass, which made her jump.

That all felt pretty interesting, but still didn’t do much for her. When his finger slipped into her, though, her eyes closed tight and her body took over her brain. His fingers were long and thick and as he slipped his middle finger into her and bent it up to find some bit of her inside that she wasn’t sure anyone had ever hit before she was soon very acutely aware of how insistent and unrelenting his tongue was. Soon she was squirming and moaning and clawing at the sheets.

When he came up for air he looked down at the writhing teen on his bed and his cock throbbed.

“Do you still have those cat ears you wear at the mall sometimes?”

She looked up at him in total confusion.

“Um, I think so, in my bag I guess,” she mumbled, not wanting him to have stopped what he was just doing, but too embarrassed to ask him to continue. Plus she knew she didn’t get to ask for things in this encounter.

“Go get them and put them on,” he growled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and watching her like a hungry mountain lion as she crawled around on the bed and then padded over to her bag.

As she looked through her things she started realizing exactly how much this guy wanted her and how much he had a very specific fantasy playing in his head. She was a lost and broken little girl to him, down on her luck. He was taking advantage of the situation with one of the few tools he had: money. In that context the whole situation seemed a lot less scary. There was also the fact that a few minutes ago his fingers and tongue had almost given her an orgasm, which was actually something pretty elusive to her.

“Um, mister, I have some purple thigh-high socks too. I mean, they match the ears. You want me to put those on too?” she said, looking back at him over her shoulder and for the first time actually putting on the flirty little-girl voice she used to get things she wanted.

He was kneeling on the bed, one hand stroking his cock through his silk boxers. He just nodded.

She bent over low, facing her ass to him and giving him a good look. She slowly rolled down the white socks and then replaced them with the purple ones. Then she turned around, watching as he pulled his boxers down a bit and let his hard cock slip out and into his hand. She bit her lip, swallowing and a little worried about the size of the thing. It was a lot bigger than the few she’d seen with high-school boyfriends. This was a grown man and a grown-up cock.

Looking at her, his senses were receding and all of his thoughts became animalistic grunts of want and need. She was now all huge eyes and cat ears and purple socks, like a little girl anime character.

“I’m going to lay down on the bed and you’re going to get over here, straddle my face and jerk me off and then suck my cock while I eat your pussy some more. Do you understand?”

She nodded and fluttered her lashes in what she hoped was an innocent look. She was glad there was going to be more fun before he actually fucked her. Looking at his cock and remembering the few times she’d had sex and how painful it was she could only imagine what it would feel like with him.

He pulled his boxers all the way off and pulled his shirt off too, then lay down on the bed.

He wasn’t a bad looking guy. In fact except for being kind of creepy he was pretty hot. He even had a somewhat flat stomach and built arms. Not exactly an athlete, but certainly fit. When he laid down his cock stood almost straight in the air. She climbed back on the bed and swung one leg over him and then settled down so that her pussy was lined up with his mouth.

Mark felt the pressure of her knees on the sides of his upper chest, then all of his senses were taken over by her pussy pressing against his mouth and nose. He loved eating pussy and more than that he loved when it was on top of him, covering his mouth, so that it almost suffocated him in juices and pink skin and the smell of sex. He reached around her legs and put his hands on her ass and helped steady her so that his mouth was in constant contact with her cunt.

Mark lapped at her, his tongue darting into her and then up and down each lip and then swirling around her clit. He licked up again and twirled his tongue around her asshole and she tightened. It made her whole body tense up in a weird spasm of shame and shock. After that initial jolt, though, warm little waves of pleasure radiated through her.

She was so amazed by how all of this felt she almost forgot the second part of his instructions. Looking down she saw his cock straining and hard. His hips were bucking up a little with need. She didn’t know how to explain it, even in her own mind, but his cock was so much more of a cock then any she’d seen. It was probably because all of the other times she’d been with guys it had been in the back of cars or dark bedrooms in hushed tones. This was a full-on naked cock in the middle of a very well lit bedroom on the biggest bed she’d ever been on. Added to that was the fact that there was no groping and wrestling and daring each other to get to third base or whatever else she’d done with boys; this was a man who expected and explicitly told her exactly what she was going to do with his cock.

There were little things that made his brain turn inside out with pleasure. One of them was the feeling of nipples and then breasts softly pressing against his stomach as someone leaned down to take his cock in their hands. She was tentative when she held it, stroking it awkwardly. Most of his head was wrapped up in eating her pussy, which she was now grinding down into his face. That alone made him the happiest man in the world; when he felt her hot lips wrap around the head of his cock, his senses were almost overloaded.

Megan on the other hand was hypnotized by the hardness of his cock. She was just going to jerk him off, but he was going down on her and it was so intense that she lurched forward and then his cock was right next to her mouth and it just brushed her lip and then before she knew what she was doing she was sucking it and it was in her mouth while his tongue was circling her clit and it sort of made her delirious.

She’d always loved sucking cock. She hadn’t done it much, but it was always her go-to fantasy when fingering herself under the covers. There was just something about the way it slipped into her mouth. The way insistent hands could force her head down on it. Then there was the come. There was something super hot about knowing you made someone come. Knowing it was your lips, your mouth, your hand. And the way boys got totally helpless when they came.

She thought about all this as she ground against Mark’s mouth and pushed more and more of his cock down her throat. She was so entranced she could even hear his muffled moans and warning when he was about to come. Then she felt the hot jets of come in her mouth and she pushed back and let Mark’s tongue fuck her to orgasm.

Mark’s mind was numb. He barely felt Megan still sucking his cock as it softened and then hardened again. He let her work his body through the cycle of getting erect and ready again. After a while he pulled her off of him and flipped her around so that she was looking up at him, glassy-eyed and hungry.

He kissed her for the first time. She ravenously accepted the mix of her pussy and his come on their lips. When they parted she reeled as if drunk and he watched her with a satisfying grin.

“On your back, kiddo. I’m going to fuck you now.”

Some part of her head forgot the situation she was in for a few seconds. She wondered why the man who had just made her come and who she’d just sucked off sounded so mean. The complex emotions fought with remembering the money and also remembering how much she wanted this guy’s big fat cock inside of her. It was all too much to think about so she sort of shut off her brain and just lay down on her back and spread her legs for him.

There was a dirtiness in that act that made her wince and writhe. Everything so far had been a psychological wrestling match. It had all been a sort of seduction or negotiation. Now she was on her back and getting fucked for money and that made her nothing but a whore. Looking up at his firm body and his big cock and the way his eyes ate her up and thinking about a thousand dollars in her pocket made her think that the name fit and maybe she shouldn’t fight against it.

“You’re going to fuck me now, mister, or what?” she said, drawing her legs up and putting her hands on her inner thighs, spreading herself open for him.

It was the “mister” that got him. It was also the fact that he saw the girl getting it. She was playing the exact part he wanted her to play. Looking down at her pretty almond-shaped eyes and the pigtails and the cat ears, he let his cock slip against her wet pussy. He slipped it over her lips and clit, then again and again and then finally he let his cock dip down and slip right into her.

Though he had slipped his fingers and even his tongue into the tight pussy of this eighteen-year-old, he wasn’t really prepared for exactly how tight she would feel when he slipped his cock into her. The smoothness of her freshly shaved lips and the wetness all came together to almost suck him into her cunt.

When he flipped her over she instinctively got on her hands and knees, but he pushed her down so that she was lying on her stomach.

“Stay there,” he grunted as he got up and picked up a remote and turned on some music.

Rough early punk music, or so she guessed. Laying submissively on her stomach she watched him open the box he’d taken out of the closet and saw he was getting rope out. Kinky shit, she thought, but he said he could do anything and he said he wouldn’t really hurt her and frankly she was really curious to see what he was going to do next. This was so far beyond any sexual thing she’d ever done, she thought that only the money was giving her the courage to do it all.

He slipped the rope under her legs and tied her legs together just above the knees. Then he roughly pulled her arms behind her back and tied them there. He pulled a large pillow from the head of the bed and put it under her stomach so that her ass was sticking up. She could feel the cool air on her shaved and soaking wet pussy.

The gruff voice on the stereo screamed over guttural guitars, “I got a little angel, want a little danger / honey you’re gonna feel my hand / swear you’re gonna feel my hand.”

When he smacked her ass for the first time it hit a little button in the back of Megan’s mind she had forgotten about. All the worry and the doubt was suddenly blacked out and her ass pushed back at him. His hand snaked into her now messy pigtails and he pulled her hair hard and her back arched. He spanked her again a little harder.

“Can you take more?” he asked, his voice hard and almost mocking.

She nodded as much as she could with him still pulling her hair.

The next smack made her want to crawl away, but she was tied and held. Her arms tensed against the rope and she realized that it wasn’t some half-assed playful knot, it was something she probably couldn’t get out of even if she had a chance to try.

Then she felt his weight on her legs for a moment. He straddled her, his cock hard and laying on her thigh.

“You’re going to be a little girl for me, all right?” he said, leaning down and whispering into her ear.

She nodded.

“And I’m going to be your daddy,” he said, letting go of her hair and taking hold of his cock.

She nodded again and he grabbed the one pigtail that was still tied. She yelped and looked back at him.

“Say it,” he demanded, the head of his cock resting just at the edge of her sex.

“I’m your little girl. For… for tonight,” she replied, trying to be tough, not to give in to his hand on her hair and his cock almost inside of her. She failed miserably.

He laughed darkly.

“For tonight. And tonight what am I?”

She looked him in the eye.

“Tonight you’re my daddy. A mean daddy. A bad daddy who is fucking his little girl.”

Looking at him it seemed like she punched him in the face with these words. He winced, bit his lip, groaned. She smiled at her little victory.

A second later all thoughts were erased as his cock pushed into her again. Now that her legs were tied together her cunt was made even tighter, thus his cock felt even bigger. Bigger tt the point of pain.

As he fucked her this way his cock banged hard against that spot he’d pressed on before. It made another orgasm start creeping up on her.

“Say it again,” he said between thrusts.

“Say what? That you’re a bad daddy? That your not supposed to fuck your little girl? That–oh fuck, I’m going to come on your cock, daddy. Don’t–don’t come in me, daddy. Don’t come in me. Mommy will find out. Daddy, don’t come in my pussy please.”

She didn’t know where the words were coming from and neither did he. All she knew was his cock felt huge and the dirty words were spilling out and it was all making her come again.

As she came his hands suddenly grabbed her hips so tightly she yelled out a little. Then he was fucking her so hard it hurt. He was making low grunting moans and finally she felt him shooting come inside of her.

When he collapsed next to her she thought he’d fallen asleep, but after a moment of rest he rolled over and untied her. He threw the rope into a corner and pulled the blankets over himself and was snoring lightly in moments.

Megan looked up at the ceiling. Her wrists were tingling a little, but not hurt. Her pussy was sore and throbbing. The muscles in her stomach were aching a little because she came so hard. Her ears rang with the words she’d said and the things she’d done. It was all crazy. Closing her eyes for a moment, sleep came over her like a wave.

His bed was big and the pillows and comforter and sheets were all feather-soft. She was half awakened by some movement and barely aware that she was being moved around. Sunlight was streaming in from the window and from a skylight above. Birds were chirping outside as she felt a wet finger slip into her sore pussy.

She didn’t know if she could take more sex, but the memory came back that she didn’t have much of a choice. He was paying her and it was his big house and his big bed and as he rolled her on her back and she saw his stubbly face and unreadable blue eyes she remembered it was his big cock.

And when it slipped in it felt like fire and electricity. The pain was forgotten once she was wet enough and then it was all mechanics and pleasure. It was the first time he’d fucked her missionary style and she wrapped her arms around him and it felt like real sex, like she’d had with boyfriends, but new and wild because he was a grown-up and the situation was all fucked up.

He reached up as he fucked her and pulled her hair.

“You’re still my little rented girl–it’s only a quarter to seven. You did well last night, especially in the end,” he said between grunts and thrusts.

She was trying to listen but all she could think of was how big his cock was and how it was filling every bit of her and how her breasts were smashed against his chest and how his hand in her hair made it all almost too intense. Already an orgasm was growing in her belly like seed.

“I want my money, daddy. You said. You said I’d get my allowance if I let you put it in.”

“Fuck, you’re a quick study,” he snarled.

Then he was fucking her harder and his hands moved down to squeeze her ass and pick her up a little as he did. Then she was coming and saying “Daddy, I’m coming, daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” over and over and he nearly banged her head on the wall as he came.

An hour later they were shower-fresh and he was sipping coffee. She turned her nose up at the strong brew and sipped orange juice instead. He set down a croissant and an envelope with a fat stack of one-hundred-dollar bills.

“It’s $1200. I think you earned yourself a little tip. I’m leaving for work in fifteen minutes–can I drop you off somewhere?”

She was hypnotized by the money.

In the car he was all business. He went the speed limit, he checked his blind spots. Megan watched him.

“So, my best friend is in trouble too. I don’t know if I mentioned that. Maybe you might like her. I mean, I’m pretty sure you would, but I mean maybe you might want to offer her something like you offered me?”

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s eighteen?” he asked as he turned onto the highway.

“Yeah, it was her birthday last week.”

She watched his reaction and saw that he was obviously going through scenarios in his head. One of them was Megan telling her friend how a guy in his thirties paid her a bunch of money for sex, and that girl then blabbing the story all over town. Then parents and police.

“She’s cool. I mean, she’s actually a bit of a geek. She goes to college. She’s very trustworthy. I mean, I won’t even ask if you don’t want me to. I mean, it’s just, this was a lot different than I expected in the parking lot. I mean, I would totally do it again if you wanted and it could be for a little less, I mean, I know that first time was kind of helping me. But if you wanted to pay me to act like a little girl and stuff and call you daddy while you fucked me I would totally do it. You could even fuck my ass if you wanted–watch out!” She’d been rattling on and on and he’d been listening but when she said the word “daddy” he almost swerved into another lane.

She wanted to be dropped off at the mall where they’d met. When he stopped in the parking lot where it all started he looked at her.

“Well, I think I would like to occasionally retain your services. I have a good job, but I don’t know if I have enough to spend that kind of money every weekend. As for your friend, I would need to meet her first, without you mentioning our arrangement. I will have to get a handle on what kind of person she is and if she would be cut out for it.”

Megan nodded, but was only half listening. She was thinking about the money in her pocket and how she could probably get a new phone with the “tip” he’d given her.

“Yeah, that’s cool. I’ll try and figure something out. Not now, I want all your daddy money to myself for now,” she said in a voice that was half little girl and half seductress.

He was hard.

“Well, thanks for an interesting night, Megan,” he said, smiling and for the first time looking like a pretty nice guy.

She smiled back–there was something sweet about their understanding.

“Thank you for your business, mister,” she said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

And with that she got out of his car and skipped off to the mall.

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *