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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (RP) Daddy's Little Whore 04 by Rachael Ross (M/f, Rom, Prost, Etc)
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Daddy's Little Whore
Copyright 2006-2009 Rachael Ross all rights reserved -- Adults Only --
Fiction

Synopsis and codes in chapter one. Can't find it? Look here:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm
There are 12 chapters total and if you wish to complain, my email is
rache696@yahoo.com

Daddy's Little Whore
by rache

Chapter 4 - The Girl in the Mirror


I was working just three days a week now, about three months after I'd
started being an escort for my boyfriend, Deke. He wasn't happy about
that, but I really didn't have much choice. I was only 15 and I had a
life. I had to be home some of the time, even Deke could understand
that. He mostly worried that my dad would get suspicious or something,
which was entirely possible, but I worried more about my dad. Period.
He needed me to take care of him and I'd spent far too many days after
school in hotel rooms taking care of other men, other daddies.

We were still making a lot of money. At least I thought so. I worked
Tuesdays and Wednesdays after school and then Saturdays from noon til
ten at night, sometimes even later than that, because I could tell my
dad I was sleeping over with Jen, or another friend, and he always
believed me. Which was something else that bothered me. I'd gotten way
too good at lying to my dad.

Friday nights I spent with Deke, as much as I could anyway. And other
nights he would come around, like he'd done before, just to give me a
quick fix of his big black cock. I still lusted for it, although my
feelings for the man himself had cooled a little with time. I still
liked him, of course, and he was still my boyfriend, but you know what
I mean. Like how you get used to someone and you still like them okay,
you still love him maybe, but you settle down and relax and realize
the world isn't ending tomorrow. Or that's how I felt anyway, except
for his cock. I'd had a lot of sex, a ton of sex with a lot of guys,
and none of them even came close to Deke in the dick department.

"Yeah, bitch...Push them titties together," Deke urged me breathlessly
while we fucked in his car.

It must have been a little after six o'clock on a Sunday morning and
he was just dropping me off at home. I'd escorted four guys on
Saturday. One from noon to three and another from four to six in the
afternoon. A guy from seven to nine after a real quick dinner, and the
last guy for the rest of the night. He'd stayed with me until leaving
reluctantly at five in the morning so he could catch his flight home.
He had three daughters, that last guy, and he'd fucked my pussy hard
while he told me all about them. I was beyond caring about that stuff
though; I just liked the part where I got to call him Daddy. That was
becoming more and more my own personal thing and the reason I kept
working for Deke.

That and his huge cock.

"Mmmm...That's so hot, Deke...Fuck my tits...Shoot on my face..." I
breathed, moaning like I meant it, but I was pretty tired too, big
cock or not, and I wasn't exactly in the mood after some 18 hours of
sex with strangers.

"Heh..." Deke grinned down at me. "Don't be talkin' that ho shit with
me, baby. I ain't no john." He knew I was just playing him, trying to
get him off so I could go home and sleep.

I had my t-shirt bunched up over my breasts and I pushed them together
around Deke's long, thick penis. He knelt on the passenger seat,
straddling my body, and the seat was tilted way back so it was almost
flat. It was easy like that, for me anyway, but I suppose it was still
a little awkward for Deke. He wasn't complaining though. Tit fucking
was his new thing apparently, and he liked doing it a lot. Mostly
because he could shoot all over my pretty face. He'd always been into
that.

I just lay there, sucking and kissing and licking the swollen dark
head as it worked back and forth. His big black dick was hot and
heavy, contrasting nicely against my soft white skin as it moved
between my tits. I kept my fingers over it, trapping him there, and a
little stream of precum ran down my body, between my boobs and over my
soft tummy. My face was wet too, the head of Deke's cock smacking
wetly against my chin and cheeks, my nose sometimes too, but mostly my
lips and I tried to just keep him in my mouth, but that was hard the
way he was moving now.

"Ah shit, here it cums, bitch...Open your mouth...Open your fuckin'
mouth, ho!" Deke grabbed my by the hair, turning my face the way he
wanted.

As he rubbed his cock quickly over and between my tits he, finally
started cumming, his cock jerking beneath my fingers and shooting his
thick warm load into my face. A lot of it got in my mouth, which I'd
opened wide, but mostly it flew up into and over my eyes and nose,
into my hair and on my cheeks. All over basically, and Deke was
cumming a lot the way he always did. I kinda bathed in his sperm, and
that's what he wanted. He'd bitch later about how I always got his
car, his pimp ride, all nasty, but that was his own fault.

"Mmmm..." I smiled for him, licking my lips and making a big show out
of swallowing Deke's cum. I'd enjoyed it, not as much as I would have
enjoyed fucking that black beast, but it hadn't been bad anyway. I
loved his cock, I just wished it wasn't sunrise after a long night of
work.

"Damn, you're a fine ass fuck, baby...supa-phreaky!" Deke was
grinning, leaning and back and waiting for me to clean up his dick. I
always cleaned him up before I'd clean myself.

"Don't talk like that," I told him. "I'm not in the mood for nigger,
okay?"

"What's up with you?" Deke didn't get pissed or anything, but he
narrowed his eyes a little. "Getting your period or something?"

"No," I told him unnecessarily; he knew exactly when my period was due
and it wasn't for another week. "I'm just tired."

"It's cool," he shrugged. "I thought you liked it when I talk like
that."

"Sometimes." I cleaned his cock gently with a packet of Kleenex from
my purse. "But you don't have to do it all the time."

Deke might have been black on the outside, but he'd never spent a day
in the hood, at least not if he didn't want to. He was almost as white
as I was on the inside, meaning he'd grown up in suburban America,
gone to good schools, all of that. Heck, he'd even been a boy scout,
an Eagle Scout no less, and he was getting his degree in international
finance.

I just didn't understand why he wanted to play the Compton nigger all
the time. Why he wanted to be a pimp was easy to figure out though.
I'd made him two grand in one night, after he'd given me my cut which
had been over a thousand dollars with the tips I'd gotten. Tips added
up to more than my fees sometimes and I'd started to worry about the
money I was making. I had over twelve thousand dollars hidden in my
big stuffed teddy bear, a white one almost as big as I was, and he was
getting full.

"Hold on a sec, baby," Deke said, sitting behind the wheel now and I'd
finished wiping my face, as best I could.

I was still messy, really messy, and my t-shirt was damp and smelling
of semen. I was getting ready to go, to slip out of Deke's car and cut
through a couple yards to sneak into my house before my dad woke up.
That was always the worst part about being with Deke like this,
because I was almost always a mess when we were done.

"What?" I looked at him.

"I'm looking for some more talent, you know anybody?" he asked with a
thin smile, holding my arm and squeezing me gently.

"Talent?" I didn't really understand at first. "You mean a girl?"

"Yeah, I need to expand, baby. Shit, I got you booked solid for the
next three weeks. I was thinking maybe you have a friend or something,
you know, some of those catholic girls..." He grinned at me.

I just laughed and shook my head. "No way, Deke. Uh-uh...I'm not
getting my friends involved, no way. They don't know anything about
sex anyway, believe me."

"I can teach 'em all they need to know," he chuckled and I felt a
twinge of jealousy. "Just introduce me to a couple, you know. I'll
throw a little party, get some of the brothers to come by, let your
friends get their phreak on..." He started doing a little shimmy and
slipped into his Snoop routine.

"No," I told him, and I meant it, staring straight into his eyes.
"What about those other girls you have? I know you got some."

"They're just ho's baby, good for twenty dollar tricks behind a
dumpster." He rubbed my arm. "The real green's with bitches like you,
Sammie. Uppity sluts what love to fuck dat daddy dick."

I rolled my eyes then. The only time Deke called me by my name was
when he really wanted something. "Well, I'm not gonna do it," I
shrugged. "I gotta get home, my dad's gonna wake up pretty soon."

"Just think about it." Deke said, letting me go finally. "I'll cut you
in on what they make, like partners and shit, right?"

"Yeah right," I snorted, like I believed that.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Hey Daddy!" I was just coming out of the shower, wrapped up in a
towel, when he walked out of his bedroom, scratching his head and
stretching in his pajamas.

"Oh. Hi." He blinked at me. "I thought you were staying at your
friend's house."

"Yeah," I nodded, rubbing my head with a towel, still drying off.
"I'll make you some breakfast. Some waffles, 'kay?"

"Sure." He just nodded, forgetting I owed him an explanation, or at
least letting it go.

I got dressed quickly, just throwing on a t-shirt and some old jeans
over my panties. I didn't bother with a bra, brushed my hair and
headed for the kitchen. I'd been tired before, and I still was a
little, but I was home now. I'd had a nice hot shower and I was home.
I liked it. I liked making breakfast for my dad. I know it sounds
dumb, but just being away for the one night made me miss him and
coming home, that was always nice for me.

"I got your coffee right there." I pointed at the little table all
ready for him, standing at the kitchen counter and pouring batter into
the waffle iron.

"Thanks Princess." He smiled at me and paused as he passed so he could
give me a kiss on the cheek. His face felt like sandpaper; he never
shaved on Sunday mornings, but I didn't mind.

"So what's your plans for today?" Daddy asked me once we'd gotten
settled down to eat. I'd made too much waffle batter as usual, so
there were too many waffles, but they tasted good anyway. I'd put real
blueberries in them.

"Ummm...I don't know," I shrugged, wanting to tell him I was gonna crash
all day. "I was thinking I'd do a little cleaning upstairs, open the
windows and air the bedrooms out. We need to wash the screens too, one
of these days."

"Mmmm..." My dad made a face and I smiled at him. "Didn't we just do
that?"

"Yeah, last spring." I rolled my eyes. "Don't be lazy, come on."

"You're just like your mom." He shook his head.

"Yeah, well..." I shrugged, taking a bite of my waffle. He said that
sometimes, more and more it seemed like, and I never knew how to
respond.

"Oh! A friend of mine, a guy I went to college with, he's in town. I
invited him over tonight." Dad gave me a sheepish smile. "I thought
maybe he'd like a home cooked meal..."

"That's cool," I shrugged. "What are you gonna cook?"

I was teasing him, of course, and it was pretty funny. My dad wasn't
much use in the kitchen. I didn't mind at all getting the news that we
were having a dinner guest, Dad needed to have his friends over more
often, and I kept telling him that. But I think he worried about
making more work for me, or something, and that was just ridiculous.

"You don't mind?" he asked.

"No, why would I mind?" I'd finished eating and I stood up, moving
around behind him so I could give him a hug. "I like doing stuff for
you, Daddy."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and I felt that weird deja vu feeling,
like I'd done this before. And I had obviously, but the feeling was
more like I'd done more than just this before, like I'd reached down,
along his chest, down his stomach. Reaching to find my dad's hard cock
and squeezing it, feeling it hot and hard in my hands while he kissed
me, pushing his tongue in my mouth, and...

I stepped back, blushing and blinking my eyes and feeling hot all
over. He couldn't see me, and that was good. I'd never felt that, at
least not so suddenly, not so distinctly. Yeah, I wanted my dad, I
understood that about myself, but when I was home I wanted to be...his
wife, not his lover. There was a difference, like a big wall that kept
the bad feelings, the sexy feelings outside our home. Inside we were
safe, I didn't want him that way...Did I? I bit my lip, knowing that
the walls were breaking down finally. I really wanted to kiss my dad
right then, and not on the cheek.

"I'm gonna lie down a little bit, okay?" I told him, not waiting for
an answer, but trying to walk out of the kitchen like I was normal.

"Sure, Sam." Daddy had picked up his morning paper. "I'll clean up
down here."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Okay," I said mostly to myself, since I was alone in the kitchen.
"This is lookin' good."

I'd slept until noon and then cleaned a little, because the bedrooms
and especially the bathroom needed it. Later I sent dad to the grocery
store with a list, and finally cooked a pretty nice baked ham, with
pineapples and raisins in the honey glaze. Some sweet potatoes and all
the easy stuff that comes in jars mostly, like apple sauce, you know.
It was a nice dinner, sort of almost fancy, but still casual enough. I
liked cooking a lot, not for myself, but for my dad, you know. I was
getting pretty good at it too.

Daddy's friend was coming over, his old college buddy. Dad had told me
a little bit about him, but they hadn't seen each other in a couple
years. They were in the same business though, aeronautical
engineering, so they'd stayed in touch with emails and what-not. They
were fraternity brothers too, which was a big deal, I guess. At least
my dad seemed to think so, but I'd never understood that whole college
thing at all, and I guess I wouldn't until I got there and saw it for
myself. All I really knew was that the guy's name was Phil, he was
divorced with kids, and he'd once been one of my dad's best friends,
but now they lived on opposite coasts.

I just hoped he liked ham.

"He isn't Jewish is he?" I yelled, suddenly feeling a little panic
attack.

"What?" My dad was upstairs getting dressed. He'd spent the day
outside, cleaning up around the rose bushes. That was usually my job,
since they were sorta my roses, but Dad needed some fresh air so I'd
put him to work.

"Your friend...He isn't Jewish or anything, is he?" I didn't have to say
it so loud the second time because my dad was coming down the stairs,
dressed in slacks and a grey polo. He looked great, I thought, just
casual like that, and I wished his friend was a woman. I'd pretty much
shoved my earlier thoughts away, thank God, and I was back to normal,
just worrying about him.

"Ah, no," he grinned. "Not unless Phil converted."

"Good," I giggled. Not that I have anything against anyone's religion,
except some of those weird cult guys in California maybe, but it was a
nice ham in my oven and my only backup was frozen waffles.

"Wow. You look nice," Dad said, coming into the kitchen.

He looked me up and down for a moment and I posed for him self-
consciously, just for a second, and blushed just a little. I was
wearing a summer dress, sort of cornflower blue, with white lace
around the short sleeves and hem of the skirt, which was just at my
knees. It looked nice, going well with my pale complexion and golden
hair. It matched my eyes, I thought. And it was modest, but thin
enough so it was kind of sexy too, if the sun was behind me.

"You like it?" I asked him. "Jen's mom picked it out for me the other
day when we went to the mall."

"Yeah," Daddy nodded. "It looks great. You look great, all grown
up..."

I smiled.

"...almost," Daddy chuckled.

"You think I need shoes?" I asked, wiggling my pink painted toes. I
never wore shoes in the house, in the winter I'd wear socks, but not
shoes. Still, we were having company for dinner, so...

"Nah." My dad shook his head. "Not in that dress, it was made for bare
feet."

"Yeah!" I nodded happily. "I think so too."

About then the doorbell rang and we both looked in that direction.
"That must be Phil," Dad smiled at me. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

"I'll be there in a sec, I gotta check on the ham first," I told him,
because it was getting pretty close to perfect.

Daddy nodded, leaving me there and I spent a few minutes double
checking everything in the kitchen, and then in the dining room. I'd
already set the table and everything, but I can be pretty retarded
about stuff, kind of anal about the details, so I looked for spots on
the spoons as if the President were coming for dinner. But I'd always
thought that a guest was important, no matter whom he was, and this
was one of my dad's best and oldest friends. I really wanted to make
Daddy proud, that was the bottom line.

"Here she is," my dad said, turning to me with a smile.

He was standing with his friend in my dad's study, looking at some
pictures on the wall, photos that only another engineer would
appreciate, presumably, since they were all taken at work. Daddy with
some guys in front of an airplane, Daddy with some guys at a banquet,
Daddy with some guys inside an airplane...You get the idea.

"Phil, this is my daughter, Samantha..." Daddy was saying, but I
couldn't hear him anymore.

My feet felt like lead and my heart stopped cold in my chest. I
couldn't breathe and my smile felt like, I don't know, I was numb all
over. I'd walked into the room, gotten just a few feet away from them,
smiling and eager to meet my dad's friend and now, the guy turned
around and he recognized me too. His brown eyes got huge and he
swallowed hard, staring at me with his hand half raised, frozen as it
reached for mine. Less than 24 hours before, between seven and nine
the previous night, Phil had been fucking the daylights out of me, and
we both knew it.

My daddy just stood there between us, smiling and happily unaware of
what was going on. "...in the ninth grade now, hard to believe how
fast she's growing," Daddy said, talking away and somehow, through
some force of will, I managed to get through that awful eternal split-
second where my life had come to a screeching halt.

"Hi," I said, barely getting the word out and I touched his hand, and
I recoiled from Phil's fingers like he'd burned me.

"It's nice to meet you, Samantha." Phil cleared his throat, looking
nervous, but he was recovering better than I was. "You look very
nice."

"Thanks," I whispered. "I, uh...I'm going to check dinner." I glanced at
my dad, trying my absolute best to appear relaxed and happy, but
inside I was dying. I felt like someone had stabbed me right in the
gut with a knife. I was going to throw up and as soon as I'd gotten
safely out of the room I ran for the downstairs bathroom. I barely
made it.

I washed my hands and face, rinsing my mouth with water and then
stared into the mirror. The girl looking back had cold, accusing eyes.
Not so much frightened as they were angry.

"You stupid whore," she whispered, "You fucking prostitute!"

I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit the mirror, shatter it with my
fist, but I just stood there, trembling with rage that I'd ever been
so stupid.

What did I think? I was gonna get away with it forever? I closed my
eyes, bowing my head. I didn't know what I was going to do. The guy
had paid me for sex. He'd fucked me twice and I'd sucked him off at
the end, letting him cum in my mouth. And like every other guy who'd
bought me, he'd wanted me to call him Daddy. He'd paid five hundred
dollars for the privilege of fucking his little girl, and tipped me
another hundred with a kiss, and now he was in my house, in my home. I
felt...raped.

To say that dinner was a struggle doesn't even come close to what it
really felt like. There's no words for it. The food was perfect, Dad
was happy, very entertaining and considerate, even Phil had recovered
from his shock at seeing me. Talking freely with my dad, smiling and
laughing. He watched me though, looked at me and when he complimented
me on the dinner, or asked me about school, I knew what he was really
thinking. He was thinking about how good it had been pushing his cock
inside me, how I'd looked beneath him with my legs over his shoulders.
How my mouth had tasted when he'd kissed me and how my innocent face
looked covered with his sperm.

I could barely eat anything and it was all I could do to smile and nod
and be polite, hoping my father wouldn't notice anything wrong. Hoping
he wouldn't catch the glances Phil and I shared, his eyes seeming full
of lustful humor, and mine full of guilt and fear. I excused myself as
soon as it was polite to do so, smiling at Daddy as he congratulated
me on the fine dinner. I could hardly even breathe and I went into the
kitchen, trying to busy myself while the two men talked and finished
their meal.

"Hey, Sam..." Phil's voice was soft and I jumped as it startled me. I
was standing at the sink, not really doing anything, just looking out
the window and not even that. My eyes weren't seeing anything at all
right then.

"Don't touch me," I said, barely getting the words out.

"Shhh..." He stood right behind me, his hands on my hips. "He's in the
bathroom, its okay." I felt his breath in my ear, his mouth was so
close to me and I shivered.

"It's not okay, you can't..." I jerked a little, as if I might get
away.

"Yes I can." He was smiling, I could sense it, and then I felt his
body pressing me to the counter, his pelvis and the hardness of his
cock in his trousers, pressing against my butt. "You don't want him to
know, do you? Don't want anyone to find out..."

"You wouldn't," I said, focusing my eyes on the window, seeing us
reflected weakly.

"I wouldn't want to, you mean." He started rubbing himself against me,
like a dog, and it was humiliating. "Meet me in the bathroom in ten
minutes..." He pulled away suddenly as we heard my dad approaching,
stepping back to lean on the refrigerator like nothing was going on.

"Leave the dishes, honey. It's nice tonight; we can all sit outside
for a little bit," Daddy suggested. "You want a beer Phil, or I have
some scotch..."

"Sure, a little scotch sounds good," Phil nodded and they left me
there, heading towards the living room where the liquor cabinet was.

"I'm just gonna clean up a little, Daddy," I called after him. "You
know me."

Daddy would smile at that, I knew, thinking that he did know me, and
how I could only rarely leave a mess after dinner. The kitchen, like
after a small breakfast or lunch, sure I could let that go for a bit,
but my dinner table? No. And that's how I thought of it. Daddy had his
study and I had my dining room, my table, my china cabinet. That
they'd once been my mother's and she'd doubtless felt the same only
made the room more special to me. I couldn't leave it anything but
perfect. My dad never understood that, but then he wasn't a woman
either. And he didn't know me at all.

Ten minutes later I was in the bathroom, standing there and feeling
not so much confused, but angry I suppose, and embarrassed. Phil
entered shortly after and I knew what he wanted and he wasn't above
blackmailing me to get it. If his friendship with my dad had ever
meant anything to the man, it didn't anymore, that seemed obvious. I
really detested him for that. It was a betrayal now. Yesterday had
been business, an accident of fate that we had something in common,
something we were unaware of. But now we knew and that made all the
difference in the world, or it should have.

"Jesus, you're so beautiful..." Phil whispered, locking the door and I
knew he was going to try and hold me.

"We can't do this," I told him. "Just stop, okay? Right there."

"Oh, we can do it, Samantha," he chuckled. "A real quick one. I just
wanna get inside you one more time, baby."

"I said no." And I didn't whisper that time, pressing my palm against
his chest. He was big, not huge or anything, but bigger than me. If he
wanted to force me all I could do was yell, I wasn't going to beat him
up or anything. But I wasn't afraid of him.

"You're forgetting that I know a secret, little girl." He narrowed his
eyes, not looking so friendly now. "Your dad will find out, your
school, your friends..."

"What?" I stared back at him. "You mean they'll find out you had sex
with a fifteen-year-old girl?" I laughed at him. "I'm a victim by
definition, Phil. I'll get therapy and you'll get ten years...if you're
lucky."

He swallowed at that, obviously not having thought things through to
their rightful conclusion. But I had, I'd spent my ten minutes
thinking hard, or so I'd thought.

"Yeah," Phil nodded slowly. "You'll get therapy and maybe your foster
parents will be nice and let you see your dad at Christmas."

"What?" I didn't know what he meant.

"You think they're going to let a whore like you stay with your dad?
Obviously he hasn't been much of a father. Those social workers,
mmmm..." he sighed, "...they're pretty tough on single dads, even the good
ones."

"That wouldn't happen," I shook my head. "You're lying."

"Think so?" He looked into my eyes and I blinked. "I guess we both
have a lot to lose, don't we? So why don't you just relax?" Phil took
me in his arms, kissing me softly on the lips. "Just turn around,
Sammie. Bend that perfect little ass over and we'll do this quick,
before your daddy gets lonely out there."

I swallowed hard, feeling my body quiver as I fought back the tears
that filled my eyes. I let him move me, what else could I do, so that
I was leaning over the sink, my ass pushed back invitingly. Phil used
his hands, sliding them up my bare legs, pushing my thighs apart and
then I heard his zipper. He pulled the crotch of my panties aside and
rubbed his fat cockhead over my dry sex, smearing precum around, and I
stared at myself in the mirror, watching the girl in front me, the way
she grimaced with pain when Phil pushed his cock into my tight cunt. I
wasn't excited at all, I wasn't ready for it, but he didn't care. He
shoved his cock inside me hard, splitting my reluctant pussy wide
around him, driving inside me as far as he could and then holding me
by the hips, fucking me slowly until it started feeling better.

My cunt betrayed me, of course, but not because of any desire on my
part. It was just the way my body was made, that hardness was
stimulating me, making my pussy feel good the way it's supposed to. I
was getting wetter, but that was all. I didn't feel the little
butterflies in my tummy. My nipples didn't get hard, my heart was
pounding, but only because I was terrified of getting caught, and
angry, and humiliated. I was being fucked in my own house now, in my
bathroom, like a real whore, a slut who'd do it anywhere, anytime.
That's all I was to Phil, just a hole for him to dump in.

"You gotta pull out..." I told him without bothering to turn my head.

"No way," he groaned. "This is too fucking good!"

"I'm serious, I'm, uh...like right in the...uh...middle of my...uh..." I was
breathing harder, grunting a little because he was fucking me hard.

"Ughmmm..." He slammed his cock deep, on purpose probably, just to
make his point. "Nope...You're too hot inside...Too...Ugh! Good,
Sammie..."

"Please?" I reached back, like I might push him away or something, but
he just grabbed my arm, pressing it to the small of my back, twisting
it.

"Uh-uh...Fuck me now! Come on...Move your ass, girl...Fuck me like you
did last night!" He was getting close, digging his fingers into my hip
with his right hand, and squeezing my wrist with the other.

"Oh please...Don't...No..." I begged as tears finally rolled down my
flushed cheeks. I couldn't help it. I wasn't trying to fuck him, I
only moved from his own efforts, my body jerking painfully against the
hard countertop every time he jammed his cock inside me.

"God fuck yeah....Ohhh shit..." Phil pushed as deep as he could and I
felt it, for the first time since I'd lost my virginity, I felt a
naked penis cumming inside my unprotected womb. I just laid there, my
forehead against the mirror, crying softly as I felt his semen
spreading through my body. I had about a week before my period, so
maybe I wasn't ovulating. I hoped not, but I probably was. I was
probably getting pregnant right that second.

"I told you pull out..." I sobbed. "What if I get pregnant? Oh
God..."

Phil was on top of me, breathing hard, his weight adding to my
discomfort and he just kept his prick inside me, letting it leak his
sperm inside my womb.

"...I hate you...I hate you..." I breathed, but I wasn't talking to
Phil at all.

"You're okay," Phil said a few minutes later. He'd pulled out finally,
bringing a small gush of wetness with his prick, so that our juices
ran down my thighs. "I had a vasectomy. You aren't gonna get
pregnant."

"What?" I could barely understand his words.

He pulled my panties into place gently, making sure they covered my
greasy pink sex, and gave my pussy a little pat. "Don't clean that up,
just wash your face. Your daddy's waiting for us."

He left me there finally, going outside to drink his drink and talk
with my dad about old times. Laughing and happy and knowing he'd just
fucked his friend's little girl in the bathroom. That must have made
him feel real good. Like a real man, I thought. I did wash myself,
spending a long time doing it too. I didn't know if Phil had been
lying to me or not, it was possible. He might have just said it to
shut me up, to make me feel better about what he'd done. But I had to
cling to the hope that he'd been telling me the truth, it was all I
had for the next week or so.

Hope.


=-=-=-=-=-=-={~}=-=-=-=-=-=-=

End of chapter four

rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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