Monday came too soon, the school hallway stretching before April like a funhouse mirror distorted, endless. The hem of her plaid skirt whispered against her thighs, the fabric stiff. She pressed her textbooks tighter to her chest, the edges digging into her breasts in a way that made her breath hitch.
A loose floorboard caught the toe of her Mary Jane. Time lurched her knees buckled, books scattering across scuffed linoleum. The impact shuddered up her spine as she landed hard, palms stinging. Principal Hart's polished loafers appeared in her periphery before she could gather the fallen papers.
His knuckles grazed her ankle as he crouched to help, the brief contact buzzing through her. The hem of her skirt had ridden up past mid-thigh, the black lace of her panties stark against pale skin. She caught his gaze flickering upward not once, but twice, that hungry pause between breaths when his pupils dilated. Something warm and slick gathered between her legs.
"Thanks, Sir, " she murmured, deliberately formal, watching his throat work as he handed her the textbooks. The principal's cufflink caught the fluorescent light when he adjusted his tie a nervous tic she'd never noticed before. His fingers lingered on the copy of *Advanced Biology*, thumb pressing into the illustrated spine where a vein branched like lightning under skin.
The second bell screeched overhead, making them both flinch. "Off to class now, young lady, " he said, but his voice had dropped an octave, the words slurring slightly as his gaze snagged on her knees still spread from the fall. His polished shoe edged forward unconsciously, the toe nudging her Mary Jane wider. The scent of his aftershave something piney and sharp prickled her nostrils as he exhaled through his nose.
On Tuesday, he "accidentally" intercepted her in the faculty bathroom when she was washing her hands after gym. The mirror showed his reflection lingering near the paper towels, fingers clenching around the dispenser lever as water dripped from her elbows onto the front of her tight white t-shirt. The fabric turned translucent where it clung to her ribs. A wet strand of hair slithered down her neck like a black snake, curling just above the swell of her breast. He swallowed hard enough that she heard it over the faucet’s rush.
Wednesday morning, she caught his silhouette lingering outside the girls' locker room during her shower slot. Through the fogged glass of the door’s wire-reinforced window, his shape distorted elongated, but unmoving. The water burned almost too hot against her shoulders. She soaped between her thighs slower than necessary, letting the suds slide down her inner thighs in thick, slow rivulets. When she emerged, the hallway was empty except for a single wet footprint leading toward his office, the tread pattern matching his Cole Haans.
By Thursday’s pep rally, he’d stopped pretending. His gaze lingered on the gap between her blazer buttons where her collarbones dipped, sweat pooling in the hollow. Her pom-poms trembled not from exertion but from the way his knuckles whitened around his clipboard when she bent to retrieve a dropped megaphone, the pleated skirt flaring just enough to reveal the lace trim riding up.
That night, she rubbed the lamp with trembling fingers not desperate, but curious. The brass warmed instantly beneath her touch, the carvings pressing indentations into her palms like teeth. When the genie materialized, "I wish, " she murmured, watching his pupils dilate hungrily, "for the principal’s office to be soundproof."
His grin split his face like a wound. "Done, " he purred, stepping closer. The air between them thickened with the scent of scorched caramel and musk. His fingertips trailed down her sternum, lingering just above her waistband. "Such a specific wish, " he mused.
The office door clicked shut behind her with unnatural silence, swallowing the sounds of the emptying hallway. Principal Hart stood silhouetted against the afternoon glare, his fingertips pressing into a stack of detention slips hard enough to leave crescents in the paper. Sweat darkened the collar of his shirt beneath his loosened tie. His gaze flicked to her thighs.
"Can I help you, young lady?" His voice rasped like denim dragged across sunburnt skin. The question should've been innocuous just another teacher's reflex but his lips lingered too long on the word *help*, shaping it into something viscous that dripped down her spine. April shifted her weight deliberately, letting her plaid skirt whisper against the backs of her thighs.
She stepped up to him and pressed a hand over his cock through the wool of his trousers already half-hard, twitching against her palm like a live wire. "I see the way you look at me, " she murmured, watching his pupils swallow the hazel of his irises. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, the fabric growing damp beneath her fingers.
He opened his mouth probably to say *your wrong*but she dug her thumb into the swollen head through the fabric, cutting him off with a gasp. "I want to see you play with it, Sir, " she whispered, her breath hot against his earlobe. His hands trembled as they fumbled with his belt, the leather slithering free with a hushed hiss.
The zipper parted like a wound. His cock sprang free, already glistening at the tip thick and ruddy, the vein along the underside pulsing visibly. She watched his knuckles whiten around the base, his fingers jerking in rough, uneven strokes that made his thighs tense. precum smeared across his thumb when he swiped it over the slit, his breath hitching as his hips bucked forward into his own grip.
She moved and sat in the chair in front of him not demurely, but with deliberate slowness, letting her knees fall open just enough to make his rhythm stutter. The leather creaked beneath her. Her plaid skirt rode up, the lace trim of her panties pressing into the damp heat between her thighs. His gaze snagged there, pupils dilating as his strokes turned frantic, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the soundproofed room.
"Tell me, " she said, tracing a fingertip over her own collarbone, watching his Adam's apple bob. "Tell me all the things you want to do to me, Sir." The honorific dripped from her lips like honey, sticky and deliberate. His breath hitched, his grip tightening around his cock as precum smeared across his knuckles.
Principal Hart's voice cracked when he spoke, rough as gravel dragged over silk. "I want" His hips jerked forward, his cock glistening under the fluorescent lights. "I want to bend you over this desk and fuck you raw. Want to hear you scream when I spank that pretty ass red." His thumb swiped over the head of his cock, spreading the slickness in slow circles. "Want to taste you on my tongue."
His hand moved faster now, the slap of skin echoing off the soundproofed walls. A thick bead of precum dripped onto the floor between them, splattering against the linoleum with a wet smack. His breath hitched sharp, audible as his balls tightened. The first spurt arced over his knuckles, hot and viscous. The second pulse hit the floor, pooling between his polished loafers in a sticky puddle.
She repeated it again the Tuesday after but pulled her bra out of her baga black lace thing still damp from gym class, smelling of sweat and fabric softener. Principal Hart inhaled sharply through his nose when she draped it over the corner of his desk, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he could taste the salt on the air. His fingers trembled where they gripped his belt buckle, the leather creaking under his weight as he leaned against the edge.
The scent of burnt sugar curled into the office like smoke under a door impossible to ignore. She didn’t turn when the genie materialized behind her, his scorched-honey skin gleaming in the fluorescent light. His nostrils flared as he took in the scene: the principal’s cock twitching in his fist, April’s discarded bra catching the afternoon glare, the sticky proof of his arousal smeared across the floor. The genie’s grin was all teeth when he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You’re learning."
Her nipples hardened under her blouse, the friction delicious as she rolled her shoulders back just enough to make the fabric drag. Principal Hart groaned, his thumb pressing into the slit of his cock hard enough to make his thighs shake. His gaze flicked between her chest and the bra on his desk, pupils swallowing the hazel of his irises whole.
She leaned forward slow, deliberate until the lace cups brushed his knuckles. The damp fabric clung instantly, molding to the shape of his fist like a second skin. His breath hitched, fingers twitching as warm silk pressed against his throbbing shaft. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, smearing precum across the padded underwire in thick, glistening streaks.
His balls tightened, the sudden pressure coiling low in his gut as his cock pulsed beneath the lace. She watched his pupils dilate, as his free hand fumbled for purchase on the edge of the desk.
His hips strained forward, the wet smack of flesh against silk punctuated by a broken groan. Strands of come striped the fabric, pearly threads soaking into the damp lace like ink bleeding through parchment. His thighs trembled violently before giving out he collapsed into his chair, belt still undone, his softening cock glistening against his stomach.
April traced the frame on his desk with one finger, letting her nail click against the glass. The woman in the photograph had her eyes the same slight tilt at the corners, the same hunger lurking beneath the polite smile. "Who's this?" she asked, tilting the frame toward him. His Adam's apple bobbed as if swallowing something thick. "My daughter, " he rasped, fingers twitching toward his zipper like he might hide the evidence.
"See you again Friday, sir, " April murmured, tucking the photograph back into place just slightly askew. The principal's exhale shuddered through his loosened tie as she turned toward the door, her thighs slicking together with each step. She didn't look back, but she felt it the moment his gaze dropped to the damp patch darkening the back of her skirt.
Friday morning dawned gray and restless, her bedsheets twisted around her waist like restraints. The lamp sat cold on her nightstand until she dragged a fingertip along its spout just once, slow enough to feel the brass hum beneath her touch. "I wish, " she whispered to the empty room, her tongue darting out to catch the taste of burnt sugar lingering in the air, "that Principal Hart can't come until I say he can."
The genie's laughter curled around her ankles first hot, smokey tendrils that slithered up her thighs before resolving into his scorched-honey form. He leaned against her dresser, fingers drumming against the wood in a rhythm that matched the pulse between her legs. "Clever girl, " he murmured, watching her nipples stiffen beneath her blouse. The air thickened with the scent of charred caramel as he exhaled. "Done."
Principal Hart's sat in his chair when she slipped in after final bell. His chair groaned as he leaned back, fingers twitching toward his belt a reflex now, Pavlovian. But when his palm brushed the bulge in his trousers, April's voice cut through the room like a blade: "No." His hand froze mid-air, fingers spasming. A bead of sweat traced the curve of his temple as his cock throbbed against the restraining fabric, trapped and aching.
"Shirt off, sir, " she said, stepping closer. The command tasted like honey scorched black on her tongue. His Adam's apple bobbed violently as his hands rose not with the resigned slump of surrender, but with the jerky precision of a man fighting his own muscles. Buttons popped free one by one, each click louder than the last in the soundproofed hush. The fabric parted to reveal a shaved chest.
April lowered herself slowly, knees pressing into the linoleum cold, unforgiving as she tugged his belt loose with a hiss of leather. His cock sprang free before she could unzip him properly, hot and heavy against her chin, leaving a sticky smear on her cheekbone. The scent of him salt, starch her nostrils as she leaned forward, lips parting just enough to catch the swollen head between them. A shudder ripped through him, his fingers lacing through her hair like he meant to push her away but only succeeded in angling her mouth wider.
"Oh God, " he choked out half prayer, half obscenity when her tongue curled beneath the crown, licking up the bitter beads leaking from the slit. His thighs trembled against her shoulders, muscles twitching like a dying insect as she swallowed him deeper. The stretch burned her jaw, but the ache dissolved into something darker when his hips jerked forward involuntarily, forcing another inch down her throat. She gagged or should have but her windpipe opened like it remembered this, welcomed it.
The principal’s knuckles whitened against the armrests, his breath coming in ragged bursts that stuttered when she hollowed her cheeks. Spit pooled at the corners of her lips, strands of it clinging to her chin as she dragged her mouth up slowly, letting his cockhead catch on her bottom lip before plunging back down.
He dragged her off suddenly hands gripping her shoulders, fingers pressing into hard pulled her up and twisted her around, pressing her palms flat against the desk. The wood was cool beneath her skin, the surface sticky with something that wasn’t ink. His breath scorched the nape of her neck as he hiked her skirt up, the fabric bunching at her waist.
The elastic of her black lace panties snapped against her hips as he tugged them down slowly, savoring the way the damp fabric clung to her skin before peeling away. He brought them to his face, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply her musk, the tang of sweat, the faint metallic hint of arousal that made his cock twitch against her bare ass. "Little slut, " he growled into the lace, his voice muffled but vibrating through her bones.
His tongue was hotter than she expected when it first traced her slit broad and wet, pressing insistently against her clit before retreating just as quickly. She gasped, hips jerking forward, but his hands clamped down on her thighs, pinning her to the desk with bruising force. Again a long, slow lick from perineum to clit, the tip of his tongue swirling just beneath the hood before pulling away entirely, leaving her clenching around nothing.
The third pass was cruel flattening his tongue against her entire vulva, lapping up her slickness with obscene noises, then stopping abruptly when her breath hitched. She whimpered, grinding back against his face, but he only chuckled the vibration against her swollen lips sending shocks up her spine. His fingers replaced his mouth, spreading her open with clinical precision, blowing cool air across her dripping cunt just as her thighs began to tremble.
"Not yet, " he murmured against her inner thigh, teeth scraping the sensitive skin there. The principal's tongue flicked her clit once, twice, then withdrew completely. She sobbed, her orgasm hovering just out of reach, her body arching off the desk like a bowstring.
The first slap came without warning his palm cracking against her ass cheek with enough force to send a jolt up her spine. A moan tore from her throat before she could stop it, her flesh stinging even as her cunt pulsed, dripping onto the mahogany in fat, glistening drops. He stepped back, admiring the bloom of pink across her pale skin before delivering another sharp smack lower, harder his fingers digging into the plump flesh to spread her wider.
April yelped, her hands scrabbling against the desk's polished surface as he leaned in, pressing his straining cock against her welted flesh. The friction drew another ragged moan from her, her slickness smearing across his shaft as he rutted against her cheeks. His breath hitched shallow, uneven as his hips jerked forward involuntarily.
She arched her back, pressing her ass into him, and he groaned the sound ripped from somewhere deep, guttural. His hand came down again, the sharp crack echoing in the airless room, her skin flushing hot where his palm landed. His fingers dug into the flesh almost punishingly, spreading her wider, exposing her dripping cunt to the cool air.
"You've been a bad girl, haven't you?" His voice was rough, breath scorching the nape of her neck, his cock twitching against her welted skin. She whimpered, her thighs trembling not from fear but from want and when she nodded, he let out a low, approving noise. "Say it." His thumb pressed against her clit, circling just enough to tease but not enough to relieve.
"I've been a bad girl, Sir, " April gasped, her fingers digging into the desk as his other hand tightened in her hair. The words tasted like forbidden fruit on her tongue, sticky and sweet, her lips parting around them with a shiver. The sting of his palm still lingered on her ass, throbbing in time with her pulse, and she arched her back, pressing herself against him shamelessly. "Punish me."
His cock slid into her with a single, brutal thrust no preamble, no resistance her body opening for him like it had been waiting. The stretch burned deliciously, her muscles clenching around him instinctively, tightening in protest before yielding completely. His hand yanked her blazer down her shoulders, the fabric catching on her elbows before dropping to the floor with a whisper. The buttons of her shirt popped open under his rough fingers, the crisp fabric parting to reveal her bare skin beneath no bra, just the flush of her chest, her nipples already peaked and aching for touch.
Principal Hart’s grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled out halfway before slamming back in. The desk shuddered beneath them, the wood groaning under the force, a stack of papers toppling onto the floor with a muted rustle. His breath came in ragged bursts against the nape of her neck, hot and damp, his cock twitching inside her as he fucked her with slow, deliberate strokes dragging almost all the way out before thrusting back in, savoring the way her cunt clung to him desperately.
"Harder, Sir, " April gasped, arching her back further, pressing her ass against him in silent demand. Her thighs trembled, slick with sweat and her own arousal, the sharp sting of his earlier spanks still throbbing with every movement. His hips snapped forward without hesitation, driving into her with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs, her breasts swaying with each brutal impact. The slap of skin against skin echoed off the soundproofed walls, mingling with the wet, rhythmic squelch of her cunt taking him deeper than she thought possible.
His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back until her throat was bared, his breath hot against her ear. "You take my cock so well, slut, " he growled, his voice rough with restraint. She could feel him trembling his thighs pressed tight against hers, his grip on her hips bruising as if he was holding himself back by sheer will. The knowledge that he was fighting his own release, that he was fucking her on the edge because she hadn't allowed him to come, sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between her legs.
Her cunt clenched around him, pulsing in time with the sharp, staccato rhythm of his thrusts. The desk creaked beneath them, the wood groaning as he drove into her harder, deeper, his balls slapping against her ass with each brutal snap of his hips. She could feel the precum leaking from him, hot and slick, mixing with her own arousal as it dripped down her thighs. "Please, " she whimpered, her fingers scrabbling against the polished surface, nails leaving faint crescent marks in the wood. "Fuck me harder, Sir. I'm so close."
His hand slid down her back, fingers splaying over the curve of her spine before gripping her waist possessively. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her bare shoulder blades, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. "You want to come, little slut?" he murmured, his voice thick with something darker than lust. His thrusts slowed, deliberate, each one dragging against her walls until she was writhing beneath him, desperate for friction. "Say it."
"Make me cum, Sir, " she gasped, her voice breaking on the words. The moment they left her lips, his hand slid between her legs, his thumb finding her clit with unerring precision. He rubbed tight, rapid circles, his cock still buried inside her, and the dual sensation the stretch of him, the relentless pressure on her clit was too much. Her orgasm ripped through her like a live wire, white-hot and searing, her cunt clenching around him in pulsing waves. Above her, he let out a choked groan.
She didn't wait for the aftershocks to fade. Twisting in his grip, she shoved him backward into his chair with surprising strength. His knees buckled, his body hitting the leather with a muffled thud, his cock still hard and glistening with her slickness. April swung one leg over him, sinking down onto his shaft in one fluid motion, her wetness making the slide effortless. His hands flew to her hips instinctively, "No, " she murmured, guiding his palms up to her breasts instead. "Touch me here."
His fingers closed around her tits greedily, kneading the soft flesh with rough, reverent strokes. The calluses on his palms dragged against her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her already sensitive cunt. She arched into his touch, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down onto him until he groaned. The desk lamp cast golden light over their tangled bodies, highlighting the sweat beading between her breasts, the way his knuckles whitened as he squeezed harder.
The scent of sex filled the air, thick enough to taste. April leaned forward, her hair falling around them like a curtain, her breath hot against his ear."Her hips rolled in slow, deliberate circles, each movement dragging his cock against that spot inside her that made her vision blur at the edges. The friction built like a live wire under her skin, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding back. Principal Hart's fingers dug into her hips, his grip slipping slightly with sweat, but she didn't slow didn't stop not until the coil in her belly tightened unbearably.
When the orgasm hit, it tore through her with a violence that left her gasping. Her back arched, her cunt clenching around him in pulsing waves, and she barely recognized her own voice as it spilled from her lips: "Come inside me, Sir." The words were raw, barely more than a whisper, but they shattered his restraint. His hips jerked upward, his cock twitching deep inside her as he groaned her name like a prayer, his release flooding her in hot, rhythmic spurts.
She collapsed against him, her skin slick with sweat, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The chair creaked beneath their combined weight, the only sound in the room aside from their labored breathing. His hands slid up her back, tracing the curve of her spine with a tenderness that felt almost out of place, his fingers lingering on the knobs of her vertebrae like he was memorizing her.
The air between them shifted subtly charged, electric as if something unspoken had been acknowledged. His thumb brushed the hollow of her throat, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse, and when she lifted her head to meet his gaze, his expression was unreadable. The silence stretched, taut and heavy, until the distant sound of a slamming locker shattered the moment.
April eased off him, her body protesting the separation with a faint, slick pop. His cum leaked down her inner thigh, warm and viscous, staining the hem of her skirt. She smoothed the fabric down with deliberate slowness, watching his eyes track the movement hungry, before turning away to gather her discarded blouse from the floor. The fabric clung to her skin, damp with sweat and something muskier, the scent of sex still clinging to it.
Principal Hart cleared his throat, adjusting his trousers with stiff fingers. His knuckles brushed against the damp patch on the fabric where her arousal had soaked through, and his breath hitched just slightly before he schooled his features back into something resembling professionalism. April smirked, plucking her panties from where they’d tangled around the leg of his chair. The fabric still warm from her body heat. She tossed them at his chest with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Thanks, Sir, " she murmured, watching the way his fingers clenched around the scrap of fabric instinctively.
The genie’s whisper slithered through Principal Hart’s skull like smoke dark, insidious. *Go home.* His grip tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles blanching as the words coiled lower, thickening into something viscous. *Fuck your daughter.* His cock twitched against his zipper, already half-hard again. The traffic light blinked red, then green, but he didn’t move couldn’t as the genie’s voice dripped into his ears like melted wax: *She’s waiting.* His foot slammed the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, tires screeching.
The front door stuck jammed from humidity or neglect and he kicked it open with a splintering crack. The foyer smelled of lemon polish and something fainter, muskier, clinging to the staircase banister where her fingers had trailed earlier. His loafers scuffed against the hardwood as he climbed, his tie already loosened, his belt unbuckling with a metallic hiss. The steps groaned beneath his weight, each creak punctuated by the wet slap of his cock against his stomach, freed now, leaking precum in thick, glistening strands.
Steam curled from beneath the bathroom door like ghostly fingers. Through the fogged glass of the shower stall, her silhouette moved hips swaying under the spray, one arm braced against the tile as the other slid between her thighs. Her breath hitched when he wrenched the door open naked, the sudden draft raising goosebumps along her soap-slicked skin. Her reflection in the misted mirror showed her mouth forming the words before sound escaped: "What the fuck, Dad?"
He caught her wrist mid-stroke, her pulse rabbiting against his palm as he pinned her hand to the wet tile. Water sluiced between their bodies when he pressed against her, his erection riding the cleft of her ass. She twisted like a hooked fish elbow jamming backward into his ribs, knee jerking up toward his groin but he caught her thigh with his free hand, fingers digging into the soft flesh above her knee. The showerhead battered his shoulders as she thrashed, her wet hair lashing his chest like a whip.
"Suzi" His voice broke on the syllable, raw as the red marks her nails left down his forearm. She spat in his face, the glob landing hot on his cheekbone before the water washed it away. His grip tightened convulsively when she tried to knee him again, her bare foot skidding on porcelain as she lost balance.
The first thrust was messy angled wrong, her body rigid with resistance his cockhead catching on the outer swell of her labia before slipping off entirely. Suzi sobbed when he adjusted, his free hand clamping around her hipbone hard enough to bruise, forcing her pelvis to tilt. His next push met slick heat, her cunt yielding suddenly not from consent but from the physics of leverage her inner walls clamping down in reflexive rejection as he buried himself to the hilt.
Water sluiced between their clenched bodies when she arched away, her spine bowing like a drawn bowstring. "Stop" Her teeth sank into his forearm, the pain sharp and clarifying. He fucked her through the bite, each withdrawal dragging her swollen flesh outward before slamming back in, the wet slap of skin drowned by the shower's roar. Her thighs trembled not with pleasure but with exhaustion muscles fatiguing from the strain of resisting the relentless piston of his hips.
The shower mat bunched beneath their feet, suction cups popping free with tiny shrieks. Suzi's forehead pressed against the tile, her breath fogging the glass in ragged bursts as her body began betraying her nipples pebbling under the spray, cunt growing slicker with each brutal thrust. His thumb found her clit by accident, brushing the swollen nub as he adjusted his grip, and her back arched violently a full-body flinch that forced him deeper, her walls fluttering around him in involuntary pulses.
He came with a sound like a gutted animal guttural, wretched his hips stuttering as his cock twitched inside her, flooding her with thick, ropey spurts that leaked down her thighs in milky rivulets. The water turned his semen into viscous strands that clung to her pubic hair like spider silk, the heat of it fading too quickly under the cold spray. Suzi gagged, her fingers scrabbling against the tile for purchase, her reflection in the mirror warped by condensation and something darker shame, maybe, or the first stirrings of an arousal she'd never admit.
Then the change happened in an instant her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms pushing off the wall to fuck herself onto him with a ferocity that knocked the breath from his lungs. "Fuck me more, Dad, " she snarled, her voice raw with hunger.
She dragged him out of the shower, water cascading onto the tiles as she pulled him by his cock still hard, still hers down the hallway. His toes scraped against the hardwood, his wet footprints smearing behind them like breadcrumbs. Suzi’s bedroom door stood ajar, the inside smelling of jasmine body spray. The moment they crossed the threshold, she shoved him onto the mattress, his damp back sticking to her rumpled comforter.
He groaned as she climbed over him not like a lover, but like a predator mounting prey her thighs bracketing his hips with possessive ferocity. His cock twitched hard against her stomach, the swollen head catching against her damp folds again and again without penetration, teasing them both. "Look at you, " she whispered, digging her nails into his chest hard enough to make him hiss. "So fucking desperate for your little girl.”
Her first downward grind was cruel just the tip stretching her entrance before she pulled away, watching his abdominals clench as his hips bucked upward fruitlessly. She repeated the motion slower the second time, letting him feel the slick heat of her clinging to his crown before lifting again. His fingers dug into her waist hard enough to leave bruises when she finally sank down inch by torturous inch her cunt fluttering around him like a living thing.
The stuffed animals on her childhood bed stared with glassy eyes as she rocked against him, her thighs trembling not from exertion but from the way his grip tightened every time she clenched around him. His gaze flickered to the pink unicorn beside her pillow the one he’d won for her at the county fair when she was twelve just as she arched her back to take him deeper. His groan sounded like it had been ripped from his chest, raw and wounded.
Her fingernails carved crescent moons into his chest when she leaned down, her damp hair curtaining their faces. "You like my young, tight 18-year-old pussy, Dad?" she whispered, the words sticking to his sweat-slicked skin like honey. His hips jerked upward involuntarily, his cock twitching inside her as if answering yes before his mouth could form the word. She laughed low, throaty and ground down harder.
The slap of skin grew frantic as she quickened her pace, her thighs slapping against his hips with wet smacks that echoed off her childhood bedroom walls. His hands scrambled for purchase on her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as she rode him with a ferocity that bordered on violence. "Faster, sweetheart, " he begged, his voice cracking on the last syllable, his cock pulsing inside her as his balls drew up tight.
Suzi's lips curled in a feral grin, her pupils swallowing the blue of her irises as she obeyed her hips pistoning faster, harder, until the bedframe screeched against the hardwood with each thrust. His release built like a storm surge, his thighs trembling beneath her, his breath coming in ragged, animalistic pants. She clenched around him deliberately, her inner muscles fluttering in rhythmic pulses timed to the frantic hammering of his heart against her fingertips.
The unicorn toppled to the floor when he arched violently, his orgasm ripping through him with a guttural cry that sounded more like pain than pleasure. Suzi kept moving through it relentless milking every last spurt from him as his fingers spasmed against her hips. His come leaked around the stretch of him, hot and slick between her thighs, but she didn't stop wouldn't not until her own climax tore through her with a shudder that rattled the headboard against the wall.
His grip slackened first, then his limbs the tension draining from his body like sand through an hourglass. She watched his eyelids flutter, his breath evening out into something shallow and ragged. His cock softened inside her reluctantly, sliding free with a wet sound when she finally shifted off him. He didn't stir when her fingers tracing the fading marks her nails had left on his chest. Sleep claimed her soon after her limbs tangled in his, his scent wrapping around her like a second skin. The mattress still bore the indentations from their frantic coupling, the sheets damp beneath them. His exhale warmed the back of her neck, his arm draped heavily across her waist, fingers twitching occasionally as if still seeking purchase on her skin. The unicorn lay forgotten on the floor, its button eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Later, at the shopkeeper's, the genie said, "First one's done." His voice slithered through the cramped antique store like smoke under a door.