Dirty Erotic Oneshots, Mistress_ Red [autobiographies to read txt] 📗

Mike lifting my tank top over my head revealing my sheer red bra. My nipples were nearly tearing through the fabric, they were so hard. As I removed my skirt, I had turned my back turned to him. 

 

As I shook my hips, the skirt fell to my knees and revealed my panties. After mischievously biting down on my finger, I slapped my hand on the cherry target and winked at him. He was as stiff as iron now, precum staining his jeans as he stroked. 

He unbuttoned his jeans as he walked toward me and climbed into the truck. He put his mouth on my neck and pulled me on top of him wrapping his hands onto each of my sweet ass cheeks. 

 

He slapped his little cherries on the right and arched his hips into me. Just the tip of his cock was making an appearance, but I could feel the length of his shaft through his jeans. 


He leaned up against the back of the back seat not losing grip of my ass. I pushed my tits against his chest as I thrust my tongue into his mouth. 

 

I knew my panties were soaked as I grinded my hot aching cunt against his rock hard member. I lifted up slightly to let him pull his jeans off and fully expose his cock. The head of his beautiful dick was so hard and tight it looked ready to pop.

My panties were off soon after as was my bra. I could barely contain my emotions as I straddled my step dad and my hungry cunt hovered over his dick. 

 

"I've been wanting more of this for too long, daddy," I breathed into his ear as sucked my sweet brown nipples while I grinded my steamy hot slit into his rod. With one hand he lifted my ass, with the other, he found his dick and positioned it just beneath my wanton hole. 

"Guess your wait is over, baby," he said, just taking one moment away from feasting on my breasts. As I slid my twat around his prick, I couldn't move. I felt him squeeze tighter on my tits and suck my tit deep into his mouth. 

 

My pussy tightened up and convulsed around his hard shaft. With a hard smack on my ass, I was rocking my pussy up and down on top of him. 

 

I was so lost in my own passion of finally receiving attention to my starving kitty, that I almost didn't hear him groaning so loudly with a mouthful of me.

 

With my hands on the back seat, I rode my daddy's dick like a pro. Long slow strokes, short fast ones, tightening my muscles with each thrust. Kissing his mouth seemed to intensify the heat between us. There was spit and moans and slapping resounding all through the woods we were in. 

As I reached orgasm, I ground my hips into his, rocking hard against him. He squeezed tight on my ass, slapping, and squeezing hard again as I bucked into body shaking quakes. 

 

Arching my back, my hair brushed gently against my ass; Mike immediately grabbed hand fulls of it and pulled hard while I rode him.

Just as I coming to from ecstasy, Mike lifted me by my hips and rolled me onto my back. Looking deep into my eyes and licking at my lips, he rammed his hips into me. He reached down and grabbed each of my long tan legs and pushed them up near my shoulders. 

 

I loved watching him look down and enjoy the site of my cunt swallowing his cock, rolling his eyes into his head and pounding harder. The truck was shaking while he fucked me and I knew he was close. 

 

He let loose of one of my legs and reached his hand behind my neck and pulled me up a little as he took two or three more rapid deep strokes before unloading his nut deep into my cunt.

He came for what seemed like forever and I enjoyed every hot thick stream of it. I felt his balls being milked as he slapped up against me. His body collapsed on mine as he struggled to catch his breath, his dick still spilling into me. 

 

I rubbed my hands down his back and to his ass, enjoying my legs spread open and our sweaty bodies intertwined. 


We looked at each other, exhausted, relieved. Weeks of unfulfilled lust finally relieved. It was hard to speak. 

 

But both of us now satisfied, we just lay there in the back of the truck, the sun shining down on our bodies while we enjoyed each other. 


We didn't even notice the police cruiser pull up beside the car.

 

bdsm

 

Renee was a friend of the family and had been helping me out around the house for several weeks while my wife, a high-powered saleswoman, was one a business trip to China. 

She was quite a bit younger than my wife and I, around 20, and home from college for the summer. 

"Be good," my wife joked before she left, "and keep your hands to yourself around Renee."

I have to admit that the thought hadn't even occurred to me. But my wife had good instincts. 

Renee was stunning: she had black curly hair, full lips, large breasts, a slim waist and an amazing heart-shaped ass that she covered every day in tight jeans. 

Often, I could see the top of her thong underwear as she bent down to get something from the lower part of our kitchen cabinets. She liked to wear low-cut blouses or tank tops. 

We have twins, my wife and I, so Renee's help was definitely required. I work out of my home office most of the time (I'm a financial planner) but even so, there are times when I have to leave to meet with clients. 

A live-in babysitter was essential when my wife was out of the country and couldn't cover for me at home when the boys were back from school. 

Renee and I exchanged only the barest of pleasantries for the first few days. I was busy with work, and she was getting used to the two boys' demanding routines. 

They needed help waking up, eating breakfast and getting ready for kindergarten. 

Then someone, usually me, took them to their school, where they stayed for half the day until Renee picked them up. 

Sometimes she would bring them straight home, other times they would go together to a nearby playground for a few hours, and eat lunches that she'd packed for them.

During the second week that Renee stayed with us, I got into the habit of checking out her outfits. 

Every day it seemed like she wore something that accentuated a different aspect of her body: one day it would be a black low-cut blouse that showed off her ample cleavage, the next day it might be a short skirt that barely covered her ass. 

Traditional babysitting attire it wasn't, but with my wife not around, who was I to complain? 

Although I viewed her outfits as a special treat, it never occurred to me that she might be wearing them for my benefit.

That is, until one day when I came back from dropping the boys off at school, and caught her looking through the family photo album.

"Sorry," she said, "I just wanted to see what your wedding was like."

"That's ok," I said, "what do you think about it?"

"Your wife is so beautiful! She looks so young!"

"Thanks, I'll tell her you said that."

She mistook my tone for sarcasm.

"No," she said, "I didn't mean that she wasn't beautiful now, I just --"

"I know, Renee. Don't worry about it. We all get old."

"You still look pretty good, Mr. Hammond."

"Thanks," I said, "you're not so bad yourself."

She blushed. 

"I wish I could find a guy like you," she said, "someone so stable, supportive, and handsome."

Now it was my turn to blush.

"I'm sure there are lots of guys out there who would love to date you."

"Yeah," she said, "I get a lot of attention, but not the kind that I really want."

The conversation was getting a little too heated for me. I excused myself and went back to work.

A few days later, I came home from a night out with my friends to find Renee asleep on the couch. On the coffee table nearby was a novel with racy picture of a young woman, scantily dressed, with her hands bound behind her back. 

"She was made her boss's slave," read the back cover, "little did she know, it would be true love."

I picked up the book without waking Renee and took it with me.

The next morning, Renee was quiet at breakfast. She must have noticed that the book was missing. 

"Renee," I said as she cleared the breakfast dishes, "I want to talk to you after you drop the boys off at kindergarten. Please come to my office."

She murmured something that sounded like an "ok," her eyes downcast.

I went to my office and put the smutty paperback on my desk, then sat back in my chair as I waited for Renee to return. I had skimmed it the night before, reading most of the sex scenes. 

I had to admit, it was surprising to me that a girl as wholesome looking as Renee would enjoy reading about some of the sexual practices described in the book. 

It was the story of a secretary who was spanked, dominated, and used by her boss. He handcuffed her, whipped her, shoved his cock down her throat and called her all kinds of filthy names. He would cum in her pussy, mouth and on her face. She loved him and called him "master." 

Really cheesy stuff, I thought. But I had to admit that I was turned on by at least some of it, and I knew that having the book in my possession might give me the currency I needed to get the ball rolling, so to speak. 

There was still a week to go before my wife came back, and I aimed to have some fun with the babysitter -- and if she liked it rough, who was I to argue with that?

I heard the door close. Renee was back. Timid footsteps creaked along the hall to my office, then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I said.

Renee entered. Her face turned white when she saw the book on the desk in front of me.

"What kind of slut," I began, "would read something like this around children?"

"They were in bed," she stammered, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Is that right?" I asked, enjoying the sight of the beautiful young woman's breasts heaving in consternation, "or did you want me to find it?"

"No of course not, Mr. Hammond!"

"You've been dressing very provocatively lately, haven't you Renee?"

"Not on purpose, Mr. Hammond."

"I'm not so sure about that, Renee."

She was quiet. Her gaze was still on the floor. 

"Look at me Renee," I said.

She obeyed. Tears started to form in her eyes.

"Tell me that you're a cock-teasing slut, and we'll never discuss this again."

"What?" she turned bright red, and seemed genuinely shocked. But she looked me in the eyes.

"Say the words, Renee. Say 'I'm a cock-teasing slut' and we never have to talk about this again."

"No!" she said, defiant now.

"Very well," I said, "I'll just have to make you. It's what you want anyway, isn't it?"

I grabbed the luscious 20-year-old and pulled her over my lap. She