Chapter 5
Jill Barns had a crush on her best friend’s Dad. That was no big surprise. All the girls had a crush on Sara’s Dad. But of all of Sara’s friends, Jill was the only one who was actually fucking him.
At least once a month for the past year, Jill had found a way to be alone with Sara’s Dad. It started on Sara’s twelfth birthday when she had a swim party at the local hot springs. Sara had invited twelve of her friends and they all swarmed like bees around Michael Taylor when he jumped in the pool with them. While the other girls jumped on his back and pulled at his arms, it was Jill who took a firm hold of his cock. It was raging hard under the water.
“Careful there,” he smiled as his hand slipped up under Jill’s bikini clad ass.
“Sorry, Mr. Taylor,” she grinned. He pushed her head under water as Sara jumped up on his back giggling. She let go of his cock and his eyes followed her round little ass, twitching seductively over slender legs, as she climbed from the pool.
The next day, while Sara and her Mom were out shopping and Michael was cleaning out the garage, Jill appeared in the open door. “Hey Mr.
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Taylor, is Jill home?” she smiled. He told her she would be gone all afternoon. “Do you mind if I hang out here until she gets back?” she asked, her eyes smiling more than her lips.
Michael’s eyes followed the young girl around the garage as she poked through his stuff. She wore the dark green plaid skirt, white blouse and knee socks he was so used to seeing his daughter in.
“How come you’re wearing your school uniform?” he asked and he grabbed hold of his work bench to stop his hands from shaking.
“I sometimes wear it to Sunday school,” she answered not looking at him. “That’s where I just came from,” she said as she stepped up onto the ladder leading up to the loft. “What’s up here?” she asked bending over the top of the ladder with her round little butt poking out behind her.
From across the garage Michael could see that the girl wasn’t wearing any panties. He hesitated. A spike of ice seemed to stab through his guts but was immediately melted by the fire rushing through his veins. It was as simple as three steps and he was at the ladder, his face even with her butt, his head buzzing with static. “I dunno, Whataya look’n for?” he heard himself saying and his hands slid up the backs of her thighs. He stopped at the top of her thighs but she pushed her ass back further, her back arching deeper, her skirt riding higher.
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Michael held his breath and watched as his hands moved up until his palms were filled with the perfect globes of her firm little ass.
“Ugh, I think you found it, Mr. Taylor,” Jill moaned and giggled. Michael’s breath escaped in a long, slow moan as his thumbs pressed up between her thighs. He pried apart the puffy lips of her pussy exposing the pink wetness hidden there. Not a trace of hair could be seen and for a second Michael thought of his own daughter and wondered how far along she had developed.
“Does Sara do this?” he asked as his lips brushed against the soft flesh of her perfect butt. “Aaagh, No, Mr. Taylor!” Jill barely managed to answer as his tongue slipped down into the velvet folds of her sex sending jolts of electric pleasure through her body.
Michael lapped at her cunt from behind, his hands squeezing her round little butt, his head spinning out of control. He couldn’t decide if he was glad or disappointed at his daughter’s innocence as he sucked at her young friend’s juices. The sound of a passing car reminded him that he was standing in the garage with the door wide open.
Michael Taylor’s heart nearly stopped as he slammed the switch on the garage door opener and the heavy door swung down. What the hell are you doing? a voice screamed inside his head. But before he could answer, Jill was standing in front of him unzipping his jeans.
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Stop! You need to stop! cried the voice, but her fingers were tugging at his cock, pulling it free and stroking it. He just stood there staring down at her.
“Oh my God, Mr. Taylor!” Jill gushed, “I’ve never had one this big. ” The comment hit Michael like a slap in the face.
“How many have you had?” he gasped but she didn’t answer. Instead she pushed her lips down over the head of his cock and he drew in an astonished breath as her tongue swirled over the tip. He would ask the question again an hour later while they showered together. This is the story she would tell him:
To be Continued. . .
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