Dilf

I think my pretty princess is gonna like this place, he muttered, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The low, gravelly resonance of his voice sent an immediate wave of warmth straight to your stomach. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. No one around for miles.

For months, you had done nothing but count down the days until you could see him again. Being trapped at college, buried under mountains of textbooks and endless exam revision, the vivid memory of him was the singular thought that had kept you moving forward.

I can’t wait, you replied softly, offering an innocent nod while biting down gently on your lower lip to hide your racing pulse.

It had been far too long since Joel had last touched you like this. Your mind drifted back to your last encounter, remembering how small you felt against him when he completely possessed your body. The urge to lean over and unzip his jeans right there crossed your mind, but you hesitated. The cramped, stiff seats of the old truck weren't built for comfort, but more than that, a persistent wave of uncertainty held you back.

The boundaries of your relationship remained unclear. Your previous stay with him had been nothing short of breathtaking, an experience of discovery that had left a lasting impression on you, both physically and emotionally. He had guided you through every thrust and kiss he gave, teaching you about his body and how good it could make you feel. Yet in the months that followed, an unspoken silence had settled between you. It was understandably a difficult conversation for your father’s oldest friend to initiate, leaving you to silently wonder if his current affection was genuine.

For the remainder of the hour, the truck was filled only with the radio and the soothing, rhythmic friction of Mr Miller’s calloused palm resting against your skin. When the truck finally slowed to a halt, the view through the dust-streaked windshield was stunning. Ahead stood a massive, beautifully converted barn, nestled deep within an ocean of rolling green fields. Vibrant rows of carefully planted summer flowers framed the porch, welcoming you to a secluded sanctuary.

Here’s home, sweetie, he said, killing the engine before stepping out around the front of the truck. He unlatched your door, offering a hand to help you down. Hoisting your luggage into one hand, Miller wrapped his other arm around your waist, his heavy palm sliding down to rest firmly on your ass. The possessive weight of his touch guided you steadily along the gravel path toward the entrance.

I hope this is good enough, sweetheart, he murmured, his deep voice a low whine.

It’s beautiful, Joel, you replied, leaning over slightly to brush your fingers against the vibrant petals of the blossoms framing the porch. A crisp, sweet floral scent filled the air, completely clearing your nose of the stale dust and air conditioning from the long car ride.

The heavy front door swung open to reveal a breathtaking, expansive open-plan interior. The space was a masterclass in mid-century modern design, seamlessly blending rustic charm with sleek, retro aesthetics. Towering, dark wooden beams spanned across the vaulted ceilings, contrasting sharply with the clean white walls. In the centre of the living area sat a plush, low-profile sectional sofa upholstered in a striking, vibrant burnt orange. Sunlight flooded through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors.

Miller gave you a slow tour of his hard work. He led you first through the state-of-the-art kitchen, pointing out the seamless walnut cabinetry, the gleaming matte-black appliances, and a massive kitchen island perfect for preparing meals together. From there, he guided you past a luxurious, spa-like bathroom complete with a deep freestanding soaking tub and custom slate tiling. Finally, he ushered you into the master bedroom, a secluded sanctuary dominated by a massive king-sized bed draped in crisp, layered bedding.

You a happy pup? he asked softly, looking down at you with a fond warmth before gently planting a tender, lingering kiss right on your forehead.

Yes, you nodded excitedly, a burst of nervous energy taking over as you kicked off your shoes and jumped straight onto the mattress. You rolled around blissfully across the soft duvet, mimicking a dog in fresh grass, deeply inhaling the clean, comforting scent of the freshly laundered linen.

I’m glad, Joel chuckled, though his expression shifted into something far more commanding as he caught you by the waist and pulled you easily into his lap, sitting you upright. But there are some house rules we need to establish. No misbehaving, and absolutely no clothes allowed while we're here. Okay?

Your face immediately flushed a deep, burning pink with a mix of excitement and anticipation as his large, calloused hands reached for the hem of your sundress, softly and deliberately beginning to undress you. Your tits flopped out first, nipples pink and puffy from the heat. Joel let out a hummed whine before sliding off the rest of your dress, leaving you in just your panties. His fingers hook under the waistband, pulling them down. His eyes widened at the sight of your perfect pink pussy, glistening with sweat. It had remained untouched for months, aching for Joel's phallus.

Oh fuck, princess, I’ve missed my pussy, he growled, the raw intensity in his voice vibrating against your skin.

Hearing him call it that always sent a sharp thrill straight through you. Mr Miller referred to your body as his; he was the first and only man who had ever been permitted to touch you, so in your mind, it made perfect sense that it belonged entirely to him.

With a deliberate focus, he moved closer, and he looked at you. He reached out to touch your puffed slit, his hand warm against your skin, tracing the line of your vagina with familiarity. His dark eyes remained locked onto yours, searching for your reaction as he leaned in, breath warm on your face.

Do the rules apply to you, too? You fluttered, the playful challenge in your voice laced with excitement, knowing exactly how he would react to being questioned.

Oh sweetie, of course they do, he giggled, a warm, resonant sound that eased the tension in the room.

Without a moment's hesitation, he began to shed his own clothing, dropping his shirt and trousers to the floor until he stood completely undressed before you. Your eyes slowly wandered over his mature, weathered body, taking in the stark contrast between his form and yours. His torso was thick, featuring a hairy stomach that tapered up toward a broad chest where soft, mature tissue met solid underlying muscle. Below, a patch of dark, wiry pubic hair partially obscured the base of his cock. A heavy, rigid erection sprang outward, pressing flat against the skin of his lower belly.

Joel mounted you, his pink mushroom head nudging between your ass. Why don’t we take this outside, princess? We wouldn’t wanna get the clean sheets all dirty, would we?

He picked you up, slinging you across his shoulder. Miller's fingers found their way to your ass, gently fondling your pussy as you leaked slick across his chest.

You been a good girl for me? Not been touching yourself, not letting another guy have a taste?

His chest vibrated deeply with the words, the low-frequency thrumming straight through your own body.

No, Mr Miller, I haven’t.

It was the absolute truth. You hadn’t wanted anyone else, and the mere thought of trying to find satisfaction on your own felt entirely pointless. No one else could ever compare to him. Joel knew your body with absolute precision; he possessed a power, knowing how to make your eyes roll back and your pretty, painted toes curl in complete surrender.

He guided you through the open back door, where you found yourself on the lush, cool expanse of the lawn. The sensation of the blades of grass against your skin was sharp, grounding you in the moment as you settled beneath his unwavering gaze. The property felt isolated; rolling green fields stretched toward the horizon under a vast, open sky. In the far distance, the tiny, indistinct silhouette of a neighbour provided the only evidence of life for miles.

Joel stood towering over you, his broad shadow casting a deep veil that seemed to block out the rest of the world. He looked down with a calm, absolute authority, waiting for you to respond to the command he had given.

Touch yourself, give me a show, baby. Put all my teaching to good use.

The veins on his cock began to thump as you reached your hand, placing it on your soft, dripping mound.

Spread it. He demands, watching as you parted your wet pink pussy. Fuck princess. That’s a good girl.

Your eyes never leaving his, you insert two fingers inside. Juices squelch out and trickle down to your ass. Small, whining moans escape your throat as you bring your knees to your chest. Your fingers are moving in and out of your hole quickly.

Oh, sweetie, do that thing I taught you. Leave those fingers in and scoop up. He whined, desperate to see you cum.

The noises coming from your vagina were ungodly, disgusting. But Miller loved every second of it. Watching your unused asshole pucker as you reach your first climax, your tits bouncing up and down just from the sheer force of your fingers. Fuck fuck fuck, daddy. You moan as your tummy pools with warmth.

That’s it, let it out, sweetheart, cum for me, baby.

Joel crouches down in front of you, placing his mouth onto your clit. Passionately, he makes out with your pussy, warm laps of spit coating your crotch. Fuck, Mr Miller, I feel like I need to pee-, Fuck Is that-

Let it out, baby. He reassures, before taking the whole of your vagina into his mouth. His teeth gnawing at your lips. Pressing his head down with your thighs, he begins to blow raspberries inside of you, sending your body shaking.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Joel, I’m- But before you could finish your sentence, your tummy turns tight, and the sharp pain is elevated by an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body convulses as you squirt into his mouth, and over his face.

Fuck, Princess, you been keepin all that in? He moans before licking the dripping juices from your ass. You taste like strawberries, Fuck. He groans, Miller's beard and tash soaked in your fluids. You’ve made a mess, baby, so now it’s time for me to make one too, okay?

Joel pushes your knees hard against your breasts, giving him the perfect fuck toy. Without warning, he inserts his swollen head inside. Your body tears under his girth; it had been so long since he had fucked you, your body had forgotten what it felt like.

Fuck. He spits before planting a kiss on your cheek. I forgot how fuckin’ tight this pussy was.

After thrusting a few times, Miller's cock was eventually suctioned inside of you. His dark, bushy pubes tickled your aching clit as he slowly humped you.

Mhh Fuck baby, I missed you so much. He kisses

You have no idea. You hiccup.

The sounds that were being released from your throat were like never before: long, whiny moans as your dad’s friend filled you with his cock.

He loved it, loved watching his girl fold under him. He always knew the right spot to hit to make your legs shake.

I don’t think I can take this. He whispers in your ear. Fuck I think you're gonna make ya’ old man cum. He begins to pant in your ear; his thrust becomes frantic as his cock begins to swell. Soon, Mr Miller was releasing load after load inside of you, so deep you could have sworn it made any hunger disappear.

Fuck princess, fuck, fuck, fuck. He swears, his cock slowly going limp.

I think my pretty princess is gonna like this place, he muttered, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The low, gravelly resonance of his voice sent an immediate wave of warmth straight to your stomach. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. No one around for miles.

For months, you had done nothing but count down the days until you could see him again. Being trapped at college, buried under mountains of textbooks and endless exam revision, the vivid memory of him was the singular thought that had kept you moving forward.

I can’t wait, you replied softly, offering an innocent nod while biting down gently on your lower lip to hide your racing pulse.

It had been far too long since Joel had last touched you like this. Your mind drifted back to your last encounter, remembering how small you felt against him when he completely possessed your body. The urge to lean over and unzip his jeans right there crossed your mind, but you hesitated. The cramped, stiff seats of the old truck weren't built for comfort, but more than that, a persistent wave of uncertainty held you back.

The boundaries of your relationship remained unclear. Your previous stay with him had been nothing short of breathtaking, an experience of discovery that had left a lasting impression on you, both physically and emotionally. He had guided you through every thrust and kiss he gave, teaching you about his body and how good it could make you feel. Yet in the months that followed, an unspoken silence had settled between you. It was understandably a difficult conversation for your father’s oldest friend to initiate, leaving you to silently wonder if his current affection was genuine.

For the remainder of the hour, the truck was filled only with the radio and the soothing, rhythmic friction of Mr Miller’s calloused palm resting against your skin. When the truck finally slowed to a halt, the view through the dust-streaked windshield was stunning. Ahead stood a massive, beautifully converted barn, nestled deep within an ocean of rolling green fields. Vibrant rows of carefully planted summer flowers framed the porch, welcoming you to a secluded sanctuary.

Here’s home, sweetie, he said, killing the engine before stepping out around the front of the truck. He unlatched your door, offering a hand to help you down. Hoisting your luggage into one hand, Miller wrapped his other arm around your waist, his heavy palm sliding down to rest firmly on your ass. The possessive weight of his touch guided you steadily along the gravel path toward the entrance.

I hope this is good enough, sweetheart, he murmured, his deep voice a low whine.

It’s beautiful, Joel, you replied, leaning over slightly to brush your fingers against the vibrant petals of the blossoms framing the porch. A crisp, sweet floral scent filled the air, completely clearing your nose of the stale dust and air conditioning from the long car ride.

The heavy front door swung open to reveal a breathtaking, expansive open-plan interior. The space was a masterclass in mid-century modern design, seamlessly blending rustic charm with sleek, retro aesthetics. Towering, dark wooden beams spanned across the vaulted ceilings, contrasting sharply with the clean white walls. In the centre of the living area sat a plush, low-profile sectional sofa upholstered in a striking, vibrant burnt orange. Sunlight flooded through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors.

Miller gave you a slow tour of his hard work. He led you first through the state-of-the-art kitchen, pointing out the seamless walnut cabinetry, the gleaming matte-black appliances, and a massive kitchen island perfect for preparing meals together. From there, he guided you past a luxurious, spa-like bathroom complete with a deep freestanding soaking tub and custom slate tiling. Finally, he ushered you into the master bedroom, a secluded sanctuary dominated by a massive king-sized bed draped in crisp, layered bedding.

You a happy pup? he asked softly, looking down at you with a fond warmth before gently planting a tender, lingering kiss right on your forehead.

Yes, you nodded excitedly, a burst of nervous energy taking over as you kicked off your shoes and jumped straight onto the mattress. You rolled around blissfully across the soft duvet, mimicking a dog in fresh grass, deeply inhaling the clean, comforting scent of the freshly laundered linen.

I’m glad, Joel chuckled, though his expression shifted into something far more commanding as he caught you by the waist and pulled you easily into his lap, sitting you upright. But there are some house rules we need to establish. No misbehaving, and absolutely no clothes allowed while we're here. Okay?

Your face immediately flushed a deep, burning pink with a mix of excitement and anticipation as his large, calloused hands reached for the hem of your sundress, softly and deliberately beginning to undress you. Your tits flopped out first, nipples pink and puffy from the heat. Joel let out a hummed whine before sliding off the rest of your dress, leaving you in just your panties. His fingers hook under the waistband, pulling them down. His eyes widened at the sight of your perfect pink pussy, glistening with sweat. It had remained untouched for months, aching for Joel's phallus.

Oh fuck, princess, I’ve missed my pussy, he growled, the raw intensity in his voice vibrating against your skin.

Hearing him call it that always sent a sharp thrill straight through you. Mr Miller referred to your body as his; he was the first and only man who had ever been permitted to touch you, so in your mind, it made perfect sense that it belonged entirely to him.

With a deliberate focus, he moved closer, and he looked at you. He reached out to touch your puffed slit, his hand warm against your skin, tracing the line of your vagina with familiarity. His dark eyes remained locked onto yours, searching for your reaction as he leaned in, breath warm on your face.

Do the rules apply to you, too? You fluttered, the playful challenge in your voice laced with excitement, knowing exactly how he would react to being questioned.

Oh sweetie, of course they do, he giggled, a warm, resonant sound that eased the tension in the room.

Without a moment's hesitation, he began to shed his own clothing, dropping his shirt and trousers to the floor until he stood completely undressed before you. Your eyes slowly wandered over his mature, weathered body, taking in the stark contrast between his form and yours. His torso was thick, featuring a hairy stomach that tapered up toward a broad chest where soft, mature tissue met solid underlying muscle. Below, a patch of dark, wiry pubic hair partially obscured the base of his cock. A heavy, rigid erection sprang outward, pressing flat against the skin of his lower belly.

Joel mounted you, his pink mushroom head nudging between your ass. Why don’t we take this outside, princess? We wouldn’t wanna get the clean sheets all dirty, would we?

He picked you up, slinging you across his shoulder. Miller's fingers found their way to your ass, gently fondling your pussy as you leaked slick across his chest.

You been a good girl for me? Not been touching yourself, not letting another guy have a taste?

His chest vibrated deeply with the words, the low-frequency thrumming straight through your own body.

No, Mr Miller, I haven’t.

It was the absolute truth. You hadn’t wanted anyone else, and the mere thought of trying to find satisfaction on your own felt entirely pointless. No one else could ever compare to him. Joel knew your body with absolute precision; he possessed a power, knowing how to make your eyes roll back and your pretty, painted toes curl in complete surrender.

He guided you through the open back door, where you found yourself on the lush, cool expanse of the lawn. The sensation of the blades of grass against your skin was sharp, grounding you in the moment as you settled beneath his unwavering gaze. The property felt isolated; rolling green fields stretched toward the horizon under a vast, open sky. In the far distance, the tiny, indistinct silhouette of a neighbour provided the only evidence of life for miles.

Joel stood towering over you, his broad shadow casting a deep veil that seemed to block out the rest of the world. He looked down with a calm, absolute authority, waiting for you to respond to the command he had given.

Touch yourself, give me a show, baby. Put all my teaching to good use.

The veins on his cock began to thump as you reached your hand, placing it on your soft, dripping mound.

Spread it. He demands, watching as you parted your wet pink pussy. Fuck princess. That’s a good girl.

Your eyes never leaving his, you insert two fingers inside. Juices squelch out and trickle down to your ass. Small, whining moans escape your throat as you bring your knees to your chest. Your fingers are moving in and out of your hole quickly.

Oh, sweetie, do that thing I taught you. Leave those fingers in and scoop up. He whined, desperate to see you cum.

The noises coming from your vagina were ungodly, disgusting. But Miller loved every second of it. Watching your unused asshole pucker as you reach your first climax, your tits bouncing up and down just from the sheer force of your fingers. Fuck fuck fuck, daddy. You moan as your tummy pools with warmth.

That’s it, let it out, sweetheart, cum for me, baby.

Joel crouches down in front of you, placing his mouth onto your clit. Passionately, he makes out with your pussy, warm laps of spit coating your crotch. Fuck, Mr Miller, I feel like I need to pee-, Fuck Is that-

Let it out, baby. He reassures, before taking the whole of your vagina into his mouth. His teeth gnawing at your lips. Pressing his head down with your thighs, he begins to blow raspberries inside of you, sending your body shaking.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Joel, I’m- But before you could finish your sentence, your tummy turns tight, and the sharp pain is elevated by an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body convulses as you squirt into his mouth, and over his face.

Fuck, Princess, you been keepin all that in? He moans before licking the dripping juices from your ass. You taste like strawberries, Fuck. He groans, Miller's beard and tash soaked in your fluids. You’ve made a mess, baby, so now it’s time for me to make one too, okay?

Joel pushes your knees hard against your breasts, giving him the perfect fuck toy. Without warning, he inserts his swollen head inside. Your body tears under his girth; it had been so long since he had fucked you, your body had forgotten what it felt like.

Fuck. He spits before planting a kiss on your cheek. I forgot how fuckin’ tight this pussy was.

After thrusting a few times, Miller's cock was eventually suctioned inside of you. His dark, bushy pubes tickled your aching clit as he slowly humped you.

Mhh Fuck baby, I missed you so much. He kisses

You have no idea. You hiccup.

The sounds that were being released from your throat were like never before: long, whiny moans as your dad’s friend filled you with his cock.

He loved it, loved watching his girl fold under him. He always knew the right spot to hit to make your legs shake.

I don’t think I can take this. He whispers in your ear. Fuck I think you're gonna make ya’ old man cum. He begins to pant in your ear; his thrust becomes frantic as his cock begins to swell. Soon, Mr Miller was releasing load after load inside of you, so deep you could have sworn it made any hunger disappear.

Fuck princess, fuck, fuck, fuck. He swears, his cock slowly going limp.

I think my pretty princess is gonna like this place, he muttered, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The low, gravelly resonance of his voice sent an immediate wave of warmth straight to your stomach. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. No one around for miles.

For months, you had done nothing but count down the days until you could see him again. Being trapped at college, buried under mountains of textbooks and endless exam revision, the vivid memory of him was the singular thought that had kept you moving forward.

I can’t wait, you replied softly, offering an innocent nod while biting down gently on your lower lip to hide your racing pulse.

It had been far too long since Joel had last touched you like this. Your mind drifted back to your last encounter, remembering how small you felt against him when he completely possessed your body. The urge to lean over and unzip his jeans right there crossed your mind, but you hesitated. The cramped, stiff seats of the old truck weren't built for comfort, but more than that, a persistent wave of uncertainty held you back.

The boundaries of your relationship remained unclear. Your previous stay with him had been nothing short of breathtaking, an experience of discovery that had left a lasting impression on you, both physically and emotionally. He had guided you through every thrust and kiss he gave, teaching you about his body and how good it could make you feel. Yet in the months that followed, an unspoken silence had settled between you. It was understandably a difficult conversation for your father’s oldest friend to initiate, leaving you to silently wonder if his current affection was genuine.

For the remainder of the hour, the truck was filled only with the radio and the soothing, rhythmic friction of Mr Miller’s calloused palm resting against your skin. When the truck finally slowed to a halt, the view through the dust-streaked windshield was stunning. Ahead stood a massive, beautifully converted barn, nestled deep within an ocean of rolling green fields. Vibrant rows of carefully planted summer flowers framed the porch, welcoming you to a secluded sanctuary.

Here’s home, sweetie, he said, killing the engine before stepping out around the front of the truck. He unlatched your door, offering a hand to help you down. Hoisting your luggage into one hand, Miller wrapped his other arm around your waist, his heavy palm sliding down to rest firmly on your ass. The possessive weight of his touch guided you steadily along the gravel path toward the entrance.

I hope this is good enough, sweetheart, he murmured, his deep voice a low whine.

It’s beautiful, Joel, you replied, leaning over slightly to brush your fingers against the vibrant petals of the blossoms framing the porch. A crisp, sweet floral scent filled the air, completely clearing your nose of the stale dust and air conditioning from the long car ride.

The heavy front door swung open to reveal a breathtaking, expansive open-plan interior. The space was a masterclass in mid-century modern design, seamlessly blending rustic charm with sleek, retro aesthetics. Towering, dark wooden beams spanned across the vaulted ceilings, contrasting sharply with the clean white walls. In the centre of the living area sat a plush, low-profile sectional sofa upholstered in a striking, vibrant burnt orange. Sunlight flooded through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors.

Miller gave you a slow tour of his hard work. He led you first through the state-of-the-art kitchen, pointing out the seamless walnut cabinetry, the gleaming matte-black appliances, and a massive kitchen island perfect for preparing meals together. From there, he guided you past a luxurious, spa-like bathroom complete with a deep freestanding soaking tub and custom slate tiling. Finally, he ushered you into the master bedroom, a secluded sanctuary dominated by a massive king-sized bed draped in crisp, layered bedding.

You a happy pup? he asked softly, looking down at you with a fond warmth before gently planting a tender, lingering kiss right on your forehead.

Yes, you nodded excitedly, a burst of nervous energy taking over as you kicked off your shoes and jumped straight onto the mattress. You rolled around blissfully across the soft duvet, mimicking a dog in fresh grass, deeply inhaling the clean, comforting scent of the freshly laundered linen.

I’m glad, Joel chuckled, though his expression shifted into something far more commanding as he caught you by the waist and pulled you easily into his lap, sitting you upright. But there are some house rules we need to establish. No misbehaving, and absolutely no clothes allowed while we're here. Okay?

Your face immediately flushed a deep, burning pink with a mix of excitement and anticipation as his large, calloused hands reached for the hem of your sundress, softly and deliberately beginning to undress you. Your tits flopped out first, nipples pink and puffy from the heat. Joel let out a hummed whine before sliding off the rest of your dress, leaving you in just your panties. His fingers hook under the waistband, pulling them down. His eyes widened at the sight of your perfect pink pussy, glistening with sweat. It had remained untouched for months, aching for Joel's phallus.

Oh fuck, princess, I’ve missed my pussy, he growled, the raw intensity in his voice vibrating against your skin.

Hearing him call it that always sent a sharp thrill straight through you. Mr Miller referred to your body as his; he was the first and only man who had ever been permitted to touch you, so in your mind, it made perfect sense that it belonged entirely to him.

With a deliberate focus, he moved closer, and he looked at you. He reached out to touch your puffed slit, his hand warm against your skin, tracing the line of your vagina with familiarity. His dark eyes remained locked onto yours, searching for your reaction as he leaned in, breath warm on your face.

Do the rules apply to you, too? You fluttered, the playful challenge in your voice laced with excitement, knowing exactly how he would react to being questioned.

Oh sweetie, of course they do, he giggled, a warm, resonant sound that eased the tension in the room.

Without a moment's hesitation, he began to shed his own clothing, dropping his shirt and trousers to the floor until he stood completely undressed before you. Your eyes slowly wandered over his mature, weathered body, taking in the stark contrast between his form and yours. His torso was thick, featuring a hairy stomach that tapered up toward a broad chest where soft, mature tissue met solid underlying muscle. Below, a patch of dark, wiry pubic hair partially obscured the base of his cock. A heavy, rigid erection sprang outward, pressing flat against the skin of his lower belly.

Joel mounted you, his pink mushroom head nudging between your ass. Why don’t we take this outside, princess? We wouldn’t wanna get the clean sheets all dirty, would we?

He picked you up, slinging you across his shoulder. Miller's fingers found their way to your ass, gently fondling your pussy as you leaked slick across his chest.

You been a good girl for me? Not been touching yourself, not letting another guy have a taste?

His chest vibrated deeply with the words, the low-frequency thrumming straight through your own body.

No, Mr Miller, I haven’t.

It was the absolute truth. You hadn’t wanted anyone else, and the mere thought of trying to find satisfaction on your own felt entirely pointless. No one else could ever compare to him. Joel knew your body with absolute precision; he possessed a power, knowing how to make your eyes roll back and your pretty, painted toes curl in complete surrender.

He guided you through the open back door, where you found yourself on the lush, cool expanse of the lawn. The sensation of the blades of grass against your skin was sharp, grounding you in the moment as you settled beneath his unwavering gaze. The property felt isolated; rolling green fields stretched toward the horizon under a vast, open sky. In the far distance, the tiny, indistinct silhouette of a neighbour provided the only evidence of life for miles.

Joel stood towering over you, his broad shadow casting a deep veil that seemed to block out the rest of the world. He looked down with a calm, absolute authority, waiting for you to respond to the command he had given.

Touch yourself, give me a show, baby. Put all my teaching to good use.

The veins on his cock began to thump as you reached your hand, placing it on your soft, dripping mound.

Spread it. He demands, watching as you parted your wet pink pussy. Fuck princess. That’s a good girl.

Your eyes never leaving his, you insert two fingers inside. Juices squelch out and trickle down to your ass. Small, whining moans escape your throat as you bring your knees to your chest. Your fingers are moving in and out of your hole quickly.

Oh, sweetie, do that thing I taught you. Leave those fingers in and scoop up. He whined, desperate to see you cum.

The noises coming from your vagina were ungodly, disgusting. But Miller loved every second of it. Watching your unused asshole pucker as you reach your first climax, your tits bouncing up and down just from the sheer force of your fingers. Fuck fuck fuck, daddy. You moan as your tummy pools with warmth.

That’s it, let it out, sweetheart, cum for me, baby.

Joel crouches down in front of you, placing his mouth onto your clit. Passionately, he makes out with your pussy, warm laps of spit coating your crotch. Fuck, Mr Miller, I feel like I need to pee-, Fuck Is that-

Let it out, baby. He reassures, before taking the whole of your vagina into his mouth. His teeth gnawing at your lips. Pressing his head down with your thighs, he begins to blow raspberries inside of you, sending your body shaking.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Joel, I’m- But before you could finish your sentence, your tummy turns tight, and the sharp pain is elevated by an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body convulses as you squirt into his mouth, and over his face.

Fuck, Princess, you been keepin all that in? He moans before licking the dripping juices from your ass. You taste like strawberries, Fuck. He groans, Miller's beard and tash soaked in your fluids. You’ve made a mess, baby, so now it’s time for me to make one too, okay?

Joel pushes your knees hard against your breasts, giving him the perfect fuck toy. Without warning, he inserts his swollen head inside. Your body tears under his girth; it had been so long since he had fucked you, your body had forgotten what it felt like.

Fuck. He spits before planting a kiss on your cheek. I forgot how fuckin’ tight this pussy was.

After thrusting a few times, Miller's cock was eventually suctioned inside of you. His dark, bushy pubes tickled your aching clit as he slowly humped you.

Mhh Fuck baby, I missed you so much. He kisses

You have no idea. You hiccup.

The sounds that were being released from your throat were like never before: long, whiny moans as your dad’s friend filled you with his cock.

He loved it, loved watching his girl fold under him. He always knew the right spot to hit to make your legs shake.

I don’t think I can take this. He whispers in your ear. Fuck I think you're gonna make ya’ old man cum. He begins to pant in your ear; his thrust becomes frantic as his cock begins to swell. Soon, Mr Miller was releasing load after load inside of you, so deep you could have sworn it made any hunger disappear.

Fuck princess, fuck, fuck, fuck. He swears, his cock slowly going limp.

I think my pretty princess is gonna like this place, he muttered, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The low, gravelly resonance of his voice sent an immediate wave of warmth straight to your stomach. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. No one around for miles.

For months, you had done nothing but count down the days until you could see him again. Being trapped at college, buried under mountains of textbooks and endless exam revision, the vivid memory of him was the singular thought that had kept you moving forward.

I can’t wait, you replied softly, offering an innocent nod while biting down gently on your lower lip to hide your racing pulse.

It had been far too long since Joel had last touched you like this. Your mind drifted back to your last encounter, remembering how small you felt against him when he completely possessed your body. The urge to lean over and unzip his jeans right there crossed your mind, but you hesitated. The cramped, stiff seats of the old truck weren't built for comfort, but more than that, a persistent wave of uncertainty held you back.

The boundaries of your relationship remained unclear. Your previous stay with him had been nothing short of breathtaking, an experience of discovery that had left a lasting impression on you, both physically and emotionally. He had guided you through every thrust and kiss he gave, teaching you about his body and how good it could make you feel. Yet in the months that followed, an unspoken silence had settled between you. It was understandably a difficult conversation for your father’s oldest friend to initiate, leaving you to silently wonder if his current affection was genuine.

For the remainder of the hour, the truck was filled only with the radio and the soothing, rhythmic friction of Mr Miller’s calloused palm resting against your skin. When the truck finally slowed to a halt, the view through the dust-streaked windshield was stunning. Ahead stood a massive, beautifully converted barn, nestled deep within an ocean of rolling green fields. Vibrant rows of carefully planted summer flowers framed the porch, welcoming you to a secluded sanctuary.

Here’s home, sweetie, he said, killing the engine before stepping out around the front of the truck. He unlatched your door, offering a hand to help you down. Hoisting your luggage into one hand, Miller wrapped his other arm around your waist, his heavy palm sliding down to rest firmly on your ass. The possessive weight of his touch guided you steadily along the gravel path toward the entrance.

I hope this is good enough, sweetheart, he murmured, his deep voice a low whine.

It’s beautiful, Joel, you replied, leaning over slightly to brush your fingers against the vibrant petals of the blossoms framing the porch. A crisp, sweet floral scent filled the air, completely clearing your nose of the stale dust and air conditioning from the long car ride.

The heavy front door swung open to reveal a breathtaking, expansive open-plan interior. The space was a masterclass in mid-century modern design, seamlessly blending rustic charm with sleek, retro aesthetics. Towering, dark wooden beams spanned across the vaulted ceilings, contrasting sharply with the clean white walls. In the centre of the living area sat a plush, low-profile sectional sofa upholstered in a striking, vibrant burnt orange. Sunlight flooded through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors.

Miller gave you a slow tour of his hard work. He led you first through the state-of-the-art kitchen, pointing out the seamless walnut cabinetry, the gleaming matte-black appliances, and a massive kitchen island perfect for preparing meals together. From there, he guided you past a luxurious, spa-like bathroom complete with a deep freestanding soaking tub and custom slate tiling. Finally, he ushered you into the master bedroom, a secluded sanctuary dominated by a massive king-sized bed draped in crisp, layered bedding.

You a happy pup? he asked softly, looking down at you with a fond warmth before gently planting a tender, lingering kiss right on your forehead.

Yes, you nodded excitedly, a burst of nervous energy taking over as you kicked off your shoes and jumped straight onto the mattress. You rolled around blissfully across the soft duvet, mimicking a dog in fresh grass, deeply inhaling the clean, comforting scent of the freshly laundered linen.

I’m glad, Joel chuckled, though his expression shifted into something far more commanding as he caught you by the waist and pulled you easily into his lap, sitting you upright. But there are some house rules we need to establish. No misbehaving, and absolutely no clothes allowed while we're here. Okay?

Your face immediately flushed a deep, burning pink with a mix of excitement and anticipation as his large, calloused hands reached for the hem of your sundress, softly and deliberately beginning to undress you. Your tits flopped out first, nipples pink and puffy from the heat. Joel let out a hummed whine before sliding off the rest of your dress, leaving you in just your panties. His fingers hook under the waistband, pulling them down. His eyes widened at the sight of your perfect pink pussy, glistening with sweat. It had remained untouched for months, aching for Joel's phallus.

Oh fuck, princess, I’ve missed my pussy, he growled, the raw intensity in his voice vibrating against your skin.

Hearing him call it that always sent a sharp thrill straight through you. Mr Miller referred to your body as his; he was the first and only man who had ever been permitted to touch you, so in your mind, it made perfect sense that it belonged entirely to him.

With a deliberate focus, he moved closer, and he looked at you. He reached out to touch your puffed slit, his hand warm against your skin, tracing the line of your vagina with familiarity. His dark eyes remained locked onto yours, searching for your reaction as he leaned in, breath warm on your face.

Do the rules apply to you, too? You fluttered, the playful challenge in your voice laced with excitement, knowing exactly how he would react to being questioned.

Oh sweetie, of course they do, he giggled, a warm, resonant sound that eased the tension in the room.

Without a moment's hesitation, he began to shed his own clothing, dropping his shirt and trousers to the floor until he stood completely undressed before you. Your eyes slowly wandered over his mature, weathered body, taking in the stark contrast between his form and yours. His torso was thick, featuring a hairy stomach that tapered up toward a broad chest where soft, mature tissue met solid underlying muscle. Below, a patch of dark, wiry pubic hair partially obscured the base of his cock. A heavy, rigid erection sprang outward, pressing flat against the skin of his lower belly.

Joel mounted you, his pink mushroom head nudging between your ass. Why don’t we take this outside, princess? We wouldn’t wanna get the clean sheets all dirty, would we?

He picked you up, slinging you across his shoulder. Miller's fingers found their way to your ass, gently fondling your pussy as you leaked slick across his chest.

You been a good girl for me? Not been touching yourself, not letting another guy have a taste?

His chest vibrated deeply with the words, the low-frequency thrumming straight through your own body.

No, Mr Miller, I haven’t.

It was the absolute truth. You hadn’t wanted anyone else, and the mere thought of trying to find satisfaction on your own felt entirely pointless. No one else could ever compare to him. Joel knew your body with absolute precision; he possessed a power, knowing how to make your eyes roll back and your pretty, painted toes curl in complete surrender.

He guided you through the open back door, where you found yourself on the lush, cool expanse of the lawn. The sensation of the blades of grass against your skin was sharp, grounding you in the moment as you settled beneath his unwavering gaze. The property felt isolated; rolling green fields stretched toward the horizon under a vast, open sky. In the far distance, the tiny, indistinct silhouette of a neighbour provided the only evidence of life for miles.

Joel stood towering over you, his broad shadow casting a deep veil that seemed to block out the rest of the world. He looked down with a calm, absolute authority, waiting for you to respond to the command he had given.

Touch yourself, give me a show, baby. Put all my teaching to good use.

The veins on his cock began to thump as you reached your hand, placing it on your soft, dripping mound.

Spread it. He demands, watching as you parted your wet pink pussy. Fuck princess. That’s a good girl.

Your eyes never leaving his, you insert two fingers inside. Juices squelch out and trickle down to your ass. Small, whining moans escape your throat as you bring your knees to your chest. Your fingers are moving in and out of your hole quickly.

Oh, sweetie, do that thing I taught you. Leave those fingers in and scoop up. He whined, desperate to see you cum.

The noises coming from your vagina were ungodly, disgusting. But Miller loved every second of it. Watching your unused asshole pucker as you reach your first climax, your tits bouncing up and down just from the sheer force of your fingers. Fuck fuck fuck, daddy. You moan as your tummy pools with warmth.

That’s it, let it out, sweetheart, cum for me, baby.

Joel crouches down in front of you, placing his mouth onto your clit. Passionately, he makes out with your pussy, warm laps of spit coating your crotch. Fuck, Mr Miller, I feel like I need to pee-, Fuck Is that-

Let it out, baby. He reassures, before taking the whole of your vagina into his mouth. His teeth gnawing at your lips. Pressing his head down with your thighs, he begins to blow raspberries inside of you, sending your body shaking.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Joel, I’m- But before you could finish your sentence, your tummy turns tight, and the sharp pain is elevated by an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body convulses as you squirt into his mouth, and over his face.

Fuck, Princess, you been keepin all that in? He moans before licking the dripping juices from your ass. You taste like strawberries, Fuck. He groans, Miller's beard and tash soaked in your fluids. You’ve made a mess, baby, so now it’s time for me to make one too, okay?

Joel pushes your knees hard against your breasts, giving him the perfect fuck toy. Without warning, he inserts his swollen head inside. Your body tears under his girth; it had been so long since he had fucked you, your body had forgotten what it felt like.

Fuck. He spits before planting a kiss on your cheek. I forgot how fuckin’ tight this pussy was.

After thrusting a few times, Miller's cock was eventually suctioned inside of you. His dark, bushy pubes tickled your aching clit as he slowly humped you.

Mhh Fuck baby, I missed you so much. He kisses

You have no idea. You hiccup.

The sounds that were being released from your throat were like never before: long, whiny moans as your dad’s friend filled you with his cock.

He loved it, loved watching his girl fold under him. He always knew the right spot to hit to make your legs shake.

I don’t think I can take this. He whispers in your ear. Fuck I think you're gonna make ya’ old man cum. He begins to pant in your ear; his thrust becomes frantic as his cock begins to swell. Soon, Mr Miller was releasing load after load inside of you, so deep you could have sworn it made any hunger disappear.

Fuck princess, fuck, fuck, fuck. He swears, his cock slowly going limp.

At dinner, he’d eat his food disconcertingly fast, leaving the table before you got to finish. He’d leave for work even earlier than before, not giving you a chance to say good morning. He’d even stopped doing small favours for you, like washing your clothes or dropping you off at your friend's house.

Something was up; this wasn’t the Mr Miller you grew up with.

After walking home from your friends', you’d expected Miller to be out. Either at work or with Tommy, but he wasn’t. Joel was in the kitchen, making himself food. The silhouette of his broad shoulders centred your gaze. You place your overnight bag on the table and walked to the fridge. Miller glances at you, not saying a word.

What is it? You ask, pouring yourself a cold glass of orange juice and sitting at the table, hoping to get something out of him.

Pasta. He mumbles.

Nice. You say, gulping down the remains of the sweet liquid. That's it? Just pasta?

Tomato.

Miller was cold; he couldn’t even look you in the eye. Instead, his attention was outside, in the garden.

You okay? You ask, hoping that this time you wouldn't get the same blunt response.

Yeah, yeah. Going out with Tommy tonight, will be back late. You can order food. Joel turns around, finally facing somewhat in your direction.

Oh, okay.

Your eyes go shallow at the fact that he’s not making dinner for both of you, like he used to. Instead, he’s being like your dad used to be. No care, no love and definitely not emotion. Joel was completely stoic.

He left around eight, calling out as he shut the door. You were in your room, not bothering to reply. He’d shut it too quickly for him to hear anyway.

As the sun began to set, you lay in bed, wondering what had gone wrong. Miller was a loving man, so it must have been you, something you did, said. Maybe you were just around too much for him to enjoy it.

Your weight sank deep into the mattress, drifting in and out of sleep. The sound of birds tweeting faintly disappears into nothing. You were now left with yourself. Soon, the light which was once pouring through your blinds faded into complete darkness.

You awoke a while later to the sound of Joel’s bedroom door slamming shut. The house ricochets as a result of his force. Still half asleep, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and humming with annoyance. The room spun with tiredness, and your heart began to beat the irregular pattern you knew so well.

Growing up, a lot of times you’d go to bed hungry. Too stressed to relax. The night would usually end in an argument between you and your parents. You’d tell yourself it would be fine in the morning, but the cycle always repeated.

Sometimes you’d wake up with your hand clenching your chest, with what should be a normal heartbeat, instead of arrhythmia. The room you grew up in would stay dormant, cold, and dark. Posters from your favourite bands would be ripped off the wall or half-hanging off. A place that should’ve been safe wasn’t, so you had to get out.

That's where college came in. Despite growing up in a stressful household, moving away was difficult. It was a change of routine, a change in location. And even though consistency was something that you craved, it still weighed heavily.

It took some time to adapt; for the first few weeks, you thought you’d have to quit and go home, the worry was too much to handle. But before you knew it, your life had changed. Now you rarely visited home. That was until you saw Mr Miller.

Miller had always been a consistent older figure in your life; you could say the only one. So naturally, you two reconnected after coming back for the holidays. You had met him for lunch one day and told him about college life and how it made you feel about home, and without a second thought, he offered his place. Although it was rather unconventional for you to be living at your dad’s friend's house, it gave you an opportunity to be in the town you grew up in, without having to face the wrath of your parents and be able to make positive memories there.

It started off as a one-time thing, staying at his house for the night. It gave you the fix you so desperately craved. The accustomed singing of the birds, the beautiful countryside and a familiar person who cared about you. But those once-a-semester visits soon turned into every trimester, then every month. You’d go half a year without contact with your parents, only ever returning for summer or Christmas, but it was better that way, better for all of you.

As expected, your relationship with Joel changed. He wasn’t just your ‘dad’s friend’ anymore; he was your friend. Someone who could guide you through early adulthood. You’d wake up to a bowl of fruit every morning, a fresh loaf of bread for lunch and some extremely tasty family recipe for dinner. Miller had morphed into the person you so severely needed. But somewhere, something went wrong.

Morning wakes you up with the sun bleeding through the shitty blinds in Miller's spare room. Your skin felt sticky with perspiration, and the sheets were strewn along the floor. Placing the soft soles of your feet onto the cold wooden floor, you walk to the window and open it. The fresh summer’s breeze dries your sweltered skin, alleviating any stress from the night before. Miller was mowing the yard, stripping the dead grass and revealing it’s green. You traced his movements as he walked back and forth, making a pretty pattern on the lawn. It’s usually how he spends his days off, outside either gardening or just pottering about. He needed it badly, you knew that Miller’s business stressed him out, but after the past few days, the realisation hit.

You’d never pay for anything, never helping to cook, sometimes you’d clean, but even then, he’d still have to go over what you had done just because you’d half-assed it. You were straining him, running him to the ground, so you had to change.

Rummaging through your drawers, you tried to find something clean to put on, but couldn’t find much, so an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt would have to do.

The floorboards creaked under your limping weight as you hauled your laundry basket down the stairs. With every step you took, underwear and socks fell out, leaving a trail down into the kitchen. Miller stood in the doorway that connected the kitchen to the garden, chugging a bottle of water. The gray t-shirt he was wearing clung to his soaked skin, and the buttons on his shorts had been undone.

Morning. You mumble as you pass him. The smell of his warm musk filled your nostrils. Had a good night?

Joel pauses mid-sip, panting at the labour he’d just done. Sure. Just went for a few drinks with Tommy.

Oh, how’s he? You ask. Haven’t seen him in a while.

The man pauses before taking another large gulp. Ah, he’s alright. He’s findin’ it hard without his girl around.

They’d broken up around a month ago, Tommy was in bits. It turns out she’d been sleeping around behind his back, so Tommy kicked her out.

That’s why I’ve liked havin’ you around. Makes it easier with Sarah gone.

Confused was the only word that could describe the way you felt. All the dread you had felt about being a burden was instantly lifted. It was like everything had gone back to normal. He was now making eye contact, forming full sentences and not being moody. Is this what it feels like to have kids? If so, you never ever want to have them.

A few hours had passed when you decided to lie on one of the lawn chairs outside. Mr Miller was still working away, pulling weeds out of the bushes and piling them in front of you.

By the time I’m done, this thing will be taller than you. He teases as he places down another handful.

I’m not a little girl anymore joel, it’s gonna take a while.

I know, I know. He mutters. You don’t even call me Mr Miller anymore.

Up until this year, you’d never used his first name. There was no reason why; it’s just how you had grown up. A way to show respect for people older than you, one of the stupid rules your parents had enforced.

The view of the garden was picturesque. It was filled with pretty pink peonies and bright yellow daffodils, as well as other various plants you couldn’t name. A dense collection of lily trees had been placed around the perimeter, allowing not only some privacy but also a place for bees to propagate. The lush greenery was something to thank Miller for, as he spent his days off making sure the earth was well-manicured.

It’s what your idea of heaven was, drifting in and out of sleep with the birds thrilling around you. It almost made you forget the stress from the past week; it felt like you were home again.

You wake up to find the garden empty, a cool breeze pricking at your skin. Miller must’ve gone for a shower or started on dinner.

The damp grass tickled your feet as you stepped inside, rubbing them dry against the mat. Your bare soles padded softly across the oak floor, making a quiet pat-pat toward the stairs. You looked up, expecting the sound of the shower or the thud of his heavy pacing, but the air held only silence. As you climbed toward the second floor, the old pipes groaned behind the walls, a low, mechanical cough echoing through the plaster. You nudged the bathroom door, watching it swing open with a soft click against the wall. The room was empty, the air still damp and smelling of stale soap. Miller wasn't there. You turned toward the end of the hallway, where his bedroom door stood slightly ajar, a narrow sliver of shadow cutting across the floorboards. Leaning forward, you peek inside. You were instantly hit with the familiar smell of his pine body wash, something that Joel had used consistently for years. You lean further, peaking around the corner towards his bed. What you see stops your heart mid-beat. Your eyes travel up slowly, Miller’s silhouette, starting at his feet, which were hanging off the mattress and moving toward his thighs. His boulder-like legs were revealed; he was completely naked, no longer wearing the shorts he had on earlier. You watched as his thick and sturdy chest moved with a gentle, fleshy bounce as his hand gently massaged his growing manhood. The long muscles of his forearm coiled and uncoiled with every stroke he made, while gently rubbing his tanned calves together.

A hot flush of shame prickled your neck. You shouldn't be here, and you certainly shouldn't be looking. But your eyes refused to move . The air grew thick with shame; it felt like you were trapped, unable to leave when deep down you knew you could. Instead, you sank deeper into the shadow. Your breath silently hitching, barely moving, scared he might catch you watching.

His body was fascinating, the way his toes would curl every time he’d get to his sensitive tip, or the way he’d bare his teeth when it became too much. He should’ve shut the door. You think, trying to convince yourself that it was his fault for you catching him. But it wasn’t.

Your pulse began to thump in the back of your throat. You’d betrayed him, his trust. After he’d basically raised you. What you were doing was unforgivable.

Miller lay completely exposed, oblivious to your presence. His hand moved rhythmically along the length of his erection, but it was the pink fabric in his other hand that caught your eye. He pressed it against his face, inhaling sharply as his tongue traced the cotton, his breathing heavy and aggressive. When he pulled the fabric away from his mouth and lowered it toward himself, the truth finally hit you.

You gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it. That wasn't a towel, it was your underwear. He was slicking his own fluids across the crotch and waistband. You were close enough to see how long this had been happening; the fabric was stiff and discoloured with layers of dried patches. The original baby pink was lost under dark, brittle stains. Your heart hammered against your ribs, and as you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob, the sound only seemed to echo louder in the quiet room.

Miller’s head snapped toward the door. His mouth hung open, your underwear still clutched against him. The blood drained from his face, his eyes wide and darting with panic. He scrambled to throw a blanket over himself, but it was too late. You turned and stumbled out of the room, the image burned into your mind.

Wait!! He calls out, but you were already halfway down the stairs by the time his bedroom door swung open. You sobbed, the world blurring into a muffled haze as you fled. Stumbling back into the garden, you collapsed onto the chair and pulled your knees to your chest, tears of shock and grief stinging your cheeks.

A few moments later, Miller emerged, having thrown on some clothes. He approached with hesitant, heavy steps before sinking into the chair opposite yours. You peeked behind your forearm, looking up to see Joel's face.

I am so sorry you saw that. I-. I don’t. Miller trailed off, unable to string a coherent sentence together. He was suffocating under the weight of his own shame. You lowered your eyes, unable to endure the searing awkwardness of his gaze, but as you looked down, you were met with something else, causing Miller's words to fade.

A shadow pooled beneath the thick ridge, disrupting the line of his pyjamas. His hand brushed the front of his pants, momentarily highlighting the solid bulk resting there. Your gaze was unable to break from it. Not once in your life had you ever thought of him this way, but after what you had seen, it’s all you could focus on. The fabric of his pants was straining against his manhood, causing a rigid mound to form. The stripes on his pyjamas, which were once straight, were now warped around his tension. It was like he wasn’t trying to hide it.

Hello?- He cuts through, disrupting your train of thought. Are you gonna say anything?

Miller’s voice had turned ice-cold. The warmth of his earlier shame was gone, replaced by a brittle, defensive edge. This was a secret he had battled with for a long time, a dark compulsion he’d kept buried. Part of you wondered if getting caught was a mercy, a way to finally strip away the crushing weight of his guilt. But as you looked at him, you realised that wasn’t what he was thinking at all. He was distressed

I don’t know what to say. You mumble, your salty tears drying on your cheek. I’m- I’m just confused.

I know, I know, so am I. I don’t know how I let it happen. He places his head in his hands.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander back down to his pants. Although Miller didn’t know you had been watching, it made you feel better that he had an equally dark secret, his friend's daughter's panties.

Your eyes squint at the bulge in his pants, trying to make out where the shaft ends. The hem of his pants separated his sack into two large balls, swollen with desire. What if you hadn’t scoffed and just let him finish? Watch him paint your underwear with ropes of his sticky fluid.

Your perspective shifted with dizzying speed. The initial waves of embarrassment and shock began to recede, leaving a strange curiosity. You had never witnessed something so raw, someone touching themselves with such intent, and specifically doing so to a piece of your clothing. The realisation that your scent and your body’s imprint had triggered that level of desperation in him was as intoxicating as it was disturbing.

How’d it feel? The question cut through the heavy air, sharp and sudden. As soon as the words left your lips, a lump of regret formed in your throat, thick and hard to swallow. Miller’s head snapped up, his eyebrows furrowing into a deep, confused line.

What? he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He looked at you as if he hadn't heard correctly, or perhaps as if he couldn't believe you had the nerve to ask.

How’d it feel? You repeated, your voice steadier this time.

Miller’s expression hardened, the shock turning into a cold, defensive wall. That’s not an appropriate thing to ask someone, he snapped, his gaze narrowing. Especially not me.

Oh really? But using your friend's daughter's panties to jerk off into isn't? Your explicit choice of words cut his throat.

Um... He faltered, his eyes darting away as he struggled to find a foothold in the conversation. I think... I think this is a conversation for later. When it’s not as... fresh. He shifted in his seat, the discomfort radiating off him in waves, clearly desperate for an exit.

You trust me, don’t you? The question was quiet, almost gentle, but it carried a weight that made him freeze.

Trust you? Miller repeated the words as if they were a foreign concept. He looked at you then, the cold defensiveness in his eyes flickering with a sudden, raw vulnerability. The silence between you stretched, no longer just awkward, but heavy with the implication that his secret had handed you a tether, and you were starting to pull.

How about you let me help you?

Help me? Sweetheart. Miller let out a sharp, jagged breath that was almost a laugh. He leans forward, baring his teeth in a way that wasn't quite a smile, more like a warning. I’m forty-six, sweetie, you’re not gonna be helping me.

Why? You asked, your voice small but insistent. You watched him closely, your doe eyes fixed on his until the hard line of his shoulders began to sag. The silence stretched between you, heavy and thick, as you slowly wore down his resolve.

Miller looked away, his jaw tight as he struggled with the words. How would you even... He trailed off, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, his face flushing a deep, dark red. You know. How would that even work?

Miller was just as curious as you, of course, he was. The man was huffing your dirty panties for God's sake, why would he turn this down?

Maybe you could teach me a thing or two?

Miller didn't move. He sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on you as if he were seeing you for the first time, not just as his friend’s daughter, but as a source of temptation. The patronising edge he’d used before vanished. You could see the internal war playing out. He was no longer the one in control; His secrets had stripped him of his authority, and your offer was an easy way out.

Are you tryna’ tell me you wanna suck my dick? Miller's eyes grew dark; his desire that he’d kept secret for so long was out in the open. Something he’d never thought was possible. Your eyes drifted back to his bulge for the third time; this time, it twitched under your gaze, his balls softly bouncing with temptation.

Your head gently nods as your tongue laps around your bottom lip.

Well, sweetie, you’re gonna have to use your words if you want somethin’. He says. His large digits travel across his thigh and onto his soft mound. If you wanna touch, you gotta use that pretty mouth of yours to say.

Miller squeezed the base of his cock, sending a chill of goosebumps down your back.

I wanna suck your dick, Mr Miller. You moan.

atta girl. He says. Miller had finally allowed his dark thoughts to take over; there were no secrets between you anymore.

You trail behind Joel as he leads you up the stairs. His peachy ass is tensing with each stride until you arrive at his bedroom.

The blankets lay discarded on the floor, kicked aside in his frantic rush to catch you. The pair of baby pink panties lay beside his pillow, mangled from his affection. Taking a closer look, you see the layers of his dried cum and spit. A man, so obsessed with you, went as far as stealing a pair of your dirty underwear, just so he could taste you. It was shocking; Miller always seemed like a nice, well-rounded guy, but his mind was corrupted with perverted desires.

You stand at the foot of the bed, rooted to the spot as Miller peels away his shirt with agonising slowness, the fabric clinging to his damp skin before revealing the tan, expansive swell of his torso. His pudgy stomach, soft and heavy, spills over the elastic waistband of his pyjamas, obscuring the seam entirely. Above, his chest is broad and fleshy, twitching with a thick, rhythmic tremor that marks every laboured breath he takes. Coarse, dark hair sprouted in dense patches around his nipples, narrowing into a thick, unruly line that split his manly torso. This rugged trail of hair tracked downward, disappearing beneath the low-slung waistband of his trousers. His hands travelled the surface of his chest, twirling at the hairs and pinching his nipples. His mouth hung open, wet with excitement as the man molested you with his gaze.

You’ve already seen me. he whispered, his voice a low rasp that seemed to catch in the quiet of the room. Are you going to let me see you? Princess… He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on you with an intense, unyielding focus as you reached for the hem of your tank top. That’s it, he murmured, a sharp exhale escaping him as he watched you. No need to be shy.

You watched as his hands moved toward the waistband of his pants, his fingers hooking beneath the edge.

Cmon baby, do it for Mr Miller. He cooed.

Reaching behind, you unbuckle the clasp on your bra. Your lush, overflowing curves flopped out of the fabric, nipples hardening under Miller's presence.

Wow. I mean, I must say you’ve got some nice tits. His eyes scan your silhouette with a mixture of awe and greed. His hand begins to move frantically in his pants, no longer hiding his erection. Why don’t ya let Mr Miller have a touch, huh?

Without a moment's pause, you knelt on the bed in front of him and straddled his legs. Miller let out a low hum as his hands reached up, his grip tightening against the curves of the lower back and hips, squeezing at your perky ass. Oh, baby, this is so wrong. What if your dad finds out? He moans, continuing to grope your body, before reaching your firm breasts. He plays with them, although they were big, somehow Miller's hands still covered the entirety of them.

A soft, broken moan escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet room. Miller looked up, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face.

Oh, you like that, princess? You like it when I pinch your nipples?

Timidly, you can only nod in response.

Uh uh baby, use those words of yours. He punctuated the demand by catching your peaks between his fingers again, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch.

Fuck Mr Miller, yes. Yes, I like it. You gasp, finally shifting forward to lower yourself onto his lap.

No, bad girl. He tuts sharply. He gave your nipples a sudden, firm twist that sent a jolt through your system. No cussing in this house. Do you understand?

Yes, Mr Miller. You cry, finally letting go of your breasts.

Joel’s eyes grew glazed and dark, a film of lust clouding his gaze as he leaned in close. His voice was a low, gritty rasp against your ear, thick with a perversion.

Ya feel that, sweetheart?

He remained perfectly still, his intense gaze locked on yours, searching for a reaction. The silence in the room stretched thin, heavy with the weight of his question. A steady, insistent pulse began to thrum beneath you, the sensation vibrating through the thin fabric of your shorts. Something blunt and hefty was prodding at you, pushing with a rhythmic pulse. Miller didn't pull away; instead, he bucked his hips upward, his entire weight pulsating against you as he drove himself into your seat.

That’s Mr Miller's cock, baby. This is what you’ve done to him. Miller's eyes frown at the sight of your tits as they hang over his face. I ain’t been this hard in years, honny. A low, desperate whine broke from Miller’s throat as he ground his hips harder against you, his movements frantic and heavy. The pressure was so intense that the smooth, swollen head of his member had slipped past the waistband of his trousers, glistening and slick. A bead of clear fluid escaped the narrow opening at the tip, trailing down the flushed skin.

Wow, you breathed, a soft moan vibrating in your chest. You reached down, pressing the pad of your finger against the hot, sensitive peak. It was tacky and searing to the touch. When you slowly pulled your finger away, a shimmering, translucent string of slick stretched between the tip of his length and your fingertip.

Taste it, baby, he urged, his voice thick and strained. It’s good for you.

The pad of your finger pressed slowly against your tongue, the heat of your mouth meeting the slick, salty residue. A sharp tang flooded your senses, a heavy, metallic bitterness. It tasted like him: raw, masculine, and undeniable. Miller watched with hooded eyes, his breath hitching as he witnessed your reaction to the pungent flavour of his precum.

It made you dampen, under Joel's sensual thrusts; you were practically dripping. He continued to dig himself into you, your pussy swallowing the gray shorts that once kept you somewhat modest. His hands are placed firmly on your thighs as his sicky tip drags across the fabric. It was big, bigger than you expected. Despite having seen it earlier, being so close made you realise how much of a man he was. After each hump, Miller's pyjamas slowly unwraveled, exposing his hairy manhood. A bulky, brown cock, etched with thick veins, began to jump with excitement. His flushed pink tip flooding with wetness.

You ever seen one so big before? So hairy. He asks, baring his teeth as he slows down his thrusts.

No, Mr Miller. Nodding with a forced sense of innocence while trying to hold his gaze.

Well, if you show me your pretty pussy, I might just let you try it, sweetheart.

The man's fingers traced the tattered seam of your shorts before hooking the waistband with his finger. With a slow and deliberate motion, he began to slide the fabric down, gradually revealing your soft skin beneath. Miller didn’t wait for answers; he did as he pleased, pulling the garment entirely off.

Fuck, that’s the pussy of a princess. He moans, placing a finger between your rosy lips. Gently, he parts your soaked vagina, revealing your strawberry insides, spilling with juices.

You ain’t ever been touched before. He knows, his eyes never breaking from your crotch.

As you had done to him, Miller removes his finger and places it onto his tongue, sucking on it like a dummy.

You taste too sweet to be used.

His eyes linger over your body, scanning every inch before rewarding you with the gift he had promised.

On your knees. He urges, sitting himself up. Miller pulls his pants off and throws them onto the floor. His cock rests against his belly button, thumping with excitement. Your lips find the coarse warmth of his thighs as you arch toward him.

Now baby. Take it slow, I don’t want you hurtin’ yourself. Miller strokes your hair as he pushes his cock towards your mouth. His tip drags along your forehead, then your nose, before finally reaching your drooling mouth. You inhale deeply, your senses tingling at the scent of his warm, sweaty musk, as well as the dried precum from earlier. Gradually, you open your mouth, sticking your tongue on the underbelly of his shaft. Deliberately, you begin to lick from the base, up to the tip, his salty skin making your taste buds dance.

Fuck. He moans as your warm mouth envelops his sticky tip.

It was a lot to fit in your mouth, your cheeks were bursting at the seams, but Miller wanted it too badly to stop. So, he wraps your hair into his fist and forcefully pushes your head down. Spit spurts out the openings of your mouth, painting his dark, coarse pubes with your sticky saliva.

The further he pushed, the harder his veins would pulse into your cheeks, making your jaw ache with tension. You begin to slop over his penis, suctioning him even further down your throat.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with water as he opens his mouth in concentration.

Fuck, me, sweetheart. So- fuckin’ warm. So tight. He hums as you gag on his length.

The room filled with the most disgusting sounds of you lapping around his cock, gagging and choking on your own spit, but you could only moan at the pleasure he was giving you.

You like it? He pants. Say it, say you like my big fat cock stuffed inside your throat.

Choking on your words, you can only let out a gargled yes before he removes himself entirely.

You are left gasping for air, as a mix of spit and salty slick floods out of your mouth and onto his thighs.

Miller caresses your aching cheeks before slapping his soaked cock onto your face. Staining you with his perversions. Before, his eyes were bright, wide, but now they grew dark and hooded. Mr Miller was about to fuck you up.

He slides under your cunt, gently nuzzling your entrance. Sit on me. He demands, grabbing your ass and slowly lowering you down onto his face.

The sensation is like no other. It's warm, prickly and wet. His nose gently parts your folds as you tongue teases your hole.

Fuck-. I mean, god Mr Miller. You whine as he makes out with your pussy. It was wet, messy, and most of all gut-wrenchingly sensitive. The mix of his stubble, teasing your ass and his tongue diving in and out of your lips made your core ache with warmth. You could feel your cheeks grow rosy as he left no part of you untouched. From your puckered ass to your swollen clit, he sucked, spat, and hummed until his face was completely soaked in your cum.

Fuck, you taste so sweet. He said, taking breaks from eating you out. You like this old man eating your pussy? Yeah?

His language was shocking. Twenty-four hours ago, you couldn’t imagine him being face-first inside you, but he was. And it made you so unbareably horny.

Yes, yes, sir. You moan, unable to speak a coherent sentence. The nerves you once had were gone, and now you were rubbing yourself all over his nose. Miller's mouth gurgled as he tried to swallow your fluid, but the old man couldn’t keep up. He suddenly pushes himself off of you, gasping for air as he grabs your face and shoves you into his pillow.

Listen sweetheart. He spits. We had a deal: you show me that cute lil’ pussy of yours, and you could suck my dick. But I don’t want you to suck my dick. Okay?

Okay. Your words are muffled by the feathers as he pushes the back of your head harder.

I’m gonna fuck your cunt until you cum over my dick. Deal?

Yes, Mr Mill- but before you could finish, his cock was already lining your entrance. His precum begins to paint your swollen lips.

He had warned you before that it wouldn’t fit, but you didn’t want to believe him. But after seeing how big it was compared to you, maybe he was right.

Miller glides his cock up and down your folds, gently parting them. It felt so unnatural for a man to be touching you there, the place where your parents said was only for your husband. Not for dad’s friend Mr Miller.

He pushes himself in, just the tip. A loud squelch filled the room, a mix of both his and your arousal. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching far beyond its limits, just to fit his tip. He grabs onto your ass for stability as he drives himself further in. Your lips are stinging around his manhood.

FUCK MILLER. You scream as he rips you in half. It felt so good. His cock stretching your virgin walls sent your clit thumping. It didn’t take long for you to engulf him fully, his cock far in your tummy.

Ugh fuck Miller, it feels so- so.

Good huh? You like how my cock fills your soaked pussy? He hums into your ear as he lies on top of you, his body weight crushing your body.

He pumps in and out, his pubes tickling your ass hole, his balls slapping your skin.

Uhhhhhh. A long, low moan releases from deep within his stomach. Fuck, it’s so tight, baby, so fucking tight.

He had completely melted inside you; any last authority he had over you was gone.

His cock, warm, twitched deep inside of you as his calloused hands spread your ass apart. Miller's tongue began to lick deep inside your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your back. The thrusts were electric as his hips bucked into you. The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping, Miller's deep, low hums and your long, whining moans. Your velvet skin is being ruined under his rough, experienced body. Mr Miller knew how to please a woman and knew how to leave his mark.

His cock pops out of your cunt, a signal that it's time to change position.

Get on your back, I wanna watch you stretch around me. He said.

You get onto your back and bring your knees to your chest. Miller aligns his chode between you, before thrusting in again, this time not hurting so bad. He anchors you down, holding your knees for stability as the once soft thrusts turn aggressive. His brows furrow, and his eyes roll back at the intense tingling in his tip. Your pussy was seeping with sticky juice as his balls slapped against your ass hard. He was about to cum, but not before you. A deep, searing heat began to grow in your belly, your fingers and toes sweating at the long, hard humps of Mr Miller. Your vision begins to blur, and your eyes cross as the pain in your belly is released over his cock. Sticky squirts of cum explode onto him and his bed, showering his body with your innocence.

Fuck- daddy. You moan as your clit is hit with pins and needles. I, I feel like I'm gonna pee-

That's it baby, let it out, don't be shy. It's okay. Fuck babygirl, cum over daddy. He says, shocked at the amount of cum a girl of your size could produce. His wiry pubes were now glued together, stuck down to his skin, and his cock began to pulse faster inside you. His cock twitches before letting out a low, extremely loud moan. FUCKKKKKKK, princess Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. As his hot sticky cum paints your virgin insides.

The man cums so much, it can’t help but escape. Seeping out of the sides of your pussy. His cock begins to soften inside you, before pulling it out completely. It makes a squelching sound, followed by trails of his cum, feeding down your ass hole and onto his sheets. He had ruined you entirely; your body was never going to be the same.

Miller gets up and picks up your pink panties from before. He gently wipes your pussy and ass clean of his cum, before putting them back into his drawer.