Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

“So sore,” I whispered. “You’ll remember this for a long, long time, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I wandered my touch down her thighs, tracing the pink patterns over her skin. She shifted her legs apart, offering me passage to the dainty folds of her cunt. She was glistening wet, and the scent of her bludgeoned my senses, pounding through my brain. I pressed my thumb against her hungry slit, sinking inside her.

“Please,” she murmured. “Please.”

“Is this what you need, dirty girl?” I stepped right up and ground my crotch against her ass and she rolled her hips like a seasoned whore. “I knew you were a filthy little cock dolly. How many men have been in this tight little cunt, Aimee?”

“I don’t know,” she wheezed. “Some…”

“Don’t make me pick up that belt again,” I hissed. “How many, Aimee? You’d better tell me.”

“Thirty… forty… I dunno.”

“Forty?” Jesus Christ.

“I love sex, Kyle. I need sex. It’s all I think about.”

I took a handful of curls, twisted her head to face me. “What did you call me?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she smiled. “I love cock, Daddy. I want yours.”

We both jumped, startled as her phone screeched from the floor. It whirred around, vibrating in noisy little circles across the tiles. Caller display punched me hard in the groin, crushing my excitement in a vice of pain. Mother.

“Shit,” Aimee said. “Mother bitch calling. Impeccable timing.”

I backed away as reality crashed down. What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck, you stupid horny sonofabitch? What the actual fuck?

Aimee kicked the handset away, reaching around to finger her clit.

“Where were we, Daddy?” she asked, but I was done. Senses crashing firmly back in.

I retreated to the sink, dowsing my face with cold water. “Enough,” I said. “This was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t,” she said. “You want me, I know it now.”From NôvelDrama.Org.

“This is fucked up. Really fucked up.”

“So?” she snapped, eyes wide and angry. “Nobody has to know.”

“We’ll know,” I said. “I’ll know.”

That seemed to trigger her. “Oh, right. So, I’m not worth it now? Not worth the risk? I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, I can fuck who I like!”

“Watch your mouth,” I snarled. “Or I really will pick that belt back up.”

“Good,” she pouted. “And after that you can fuck me. I know you’ll fuck me hard, Daddy. I think about it every night.”

“Stop,” I said. “Just stop.”

“Why?!”

I groaned in frustration, balls aching like a bastard. “This is so fucking wrong.”

“I like wrong,” she said. “And so do you. I know it.”

“Show’s over,” I snapped. “I mean it.”

Her eyes turned dark, hurt and angry. “Are you fucking serious, Kyle? For fucking real?”

“Deadly,” I said. “Please, Aimee, do as you’re told for once.”

Her mouth slammed shut, a tight little line of rage. She pulled up her panties, smoothing down her nightdress. “Asshole!” she yelled. “I thought you wanted me!”

I sighed. “That isn’t it, sweetheart.”

“Fine, whatever,” she snapped. “I’ll go get fucked by someone else, someone who does want me.”

“Jesus, that isn’t it.”

“Six fucking months!” she screeched. “I’ve thought about this the whole time!”

My temples were pounding, senses in overload. “It’s not me you want, baby face. You only want what you can’t have. That’s the thing with being spoiled. You want the toy just out of reach.”

“Fuck you, you patronising prick.”

I stalked over in a heartbeat, pressing my face into hers. “Don’t you dare use that tone with me. I could beat you again all day long, a hard-on isn’t compulsory. It’s not all about sex, you know.”

“You’re kidding yourself,” she said. “I felt how hard you were.”

“I’m sick of your spoiled little tantrums, Aimee, sick to fucking death.”

“This isn’t a tantrum!” she raged. “I really want this!”

“Sure,” I smiled. “Wanted this enough to make my life hell for six months. You can kid yourself, sweetheart, but don’t kid me. You hated my guts on sight when I first turned up here.”

“You don’t know me at all,” she said. This time her eyes took me aback, they were pooling, heavy with hurt.

I mustered all the resolve I could manage, holding myself firm until she accepted defeat. She grabbed her phone and stormed away, a hurricane of slamming doors and thumping footfalls.

It was a long time before I moved from that kitchen, staying out of her way until I heard her leave the house. I called her name once, twice, three times to be sure, and then, finally, when I was certain she gone, I made my way up to her bedroom.

Aimee’s diary was easy to find. Too easy. It ate further at my unease. It was thinly disguised under a stack of paperbacks, its pink satin cover jutting out underneath like a deadly beacon. Maybe she’d wanted me to find it the whole time, only I’m not a sneaky fucking snitch.

I sat down on her bed, flicking through the pages. Yesterday’s entry was bookmarked, as good a place to start as any.

* * *

I’m drunk again. Really drunk. Beth and Stacy got in my face tonight, called me a skanky little slut. Beth said I’d been giving Richard the eye. Like fuck I had. He’s the prick who’s been trying it on with me ever since her birthday last September. I can’t stand him, anyway, his breath smells of eggs and by all accounts he has erection problems, Beth told me so.

Kyle was kind to me this evening, it even looked like he gave a shit. I tried to tell him who I am, what I want. Yeah, I know… fucking face palm city. He touched my knee, and it felt so fucking good. He sent me to bed, and like an idiot I wondered if he’d come after me. He didn’t. I followed him into his bedroom, yeah, yeah, what’s new? Only this time I went further. I watched him shower, and fuck, his ASS. It’s like steel…

* * *

A wave of nausea rose up from my gut. I scanned on, hardly able to read the words.

* * *

I watched him jerk himself off. It was so hot. Part of me can’t help but wonder. You know. Maybe, just maybe he was thinking about me…

* * *

I flicked back through the journal; pages and pages and pages of secrets that a man like me should never have access to. Through the nausea my dick was already hard, images of Aimee Rowley’s perfect little pussy spread open for me scorching my resolve, burning it to ashes. I found the entry six months earlier. The day I arrived in her life.

* * *

Mother has a husband. A fucking husband!! Out of nowhere, I mean what the fuck?! She dropped me a text message, a TEXT, to let me know I have a new stepdaddy. Fucking awesome. I wanted a stepdad my whole fucking life, and now I’m twenty she decides to marry some random? She’s such a BITCH. They are arriving home today, YES, to MY home, BOTH of them. Hey, Aimee, here’s your new dad. Like that’s NORMAL. Apparently his name is Kyle, and he’s some hotshot IT executive or some shit. I’m never going to be ok with this, EVER.

* * *

My blood turned to ice. Text message? Louise told her daughter about me by text message? I thought back to our wedding-day, our early morning conversation.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? What about your daughter? Wouldn’t she want to be here?”

Louise smiled, brushed it aside, as though it was the most ludicrous suggestion she’d ever heard. “Aimee? No! She’s a big girl, Kyle, she doesn’t need to be here. Believe me, Aimee won’t even care. She’s not that kind of girl.”

Seems Louise knew even less about her daughter than I did.

* * *

He’s here. Oh my God, he’s here. Daddy Kyle. I want to hate him, hate both of them, and I DO hate them, but it’s so much more fucked up than I thought it would be. He turned up with a suitcase, just like that. Held out his hand and said ‘Hi, I’m Kyle, but you can call me Dad’ like a real fucking comedian. He’s younger than Mother. Not much, but enough. And you know what? The thing I don’t get, after the ice-queen she’s been my entire life, the frigid, prudish, man-hating bitch she’s ALWAYS been, how the hell did she land a guy like him? He’s absolutely, insanely, ridiculously, obscenely, disgustingly hot. The guy’s huge, like HUGE. He was wearing a t-shirt and he is so fucking ripped you can see every muscle on him. His hair is so dark it looks black, apart from this tiny bit of grey he has above his ears, but even that looks hot on him. His eyes are green. GREEN under dark brows. He’s way out of Mother’s league. He shouldn’t BE here, not with HER!!!

I’m supposed to hate him, but now I just hate her even more. I expected to feel a lot of things with a brand new daddy in my house, but I didn’t expect to feel like this. I’ve never felt so jealous in my fucking life.

I’m crushing like crazy over my new daddy, the guy that’s fucking my mother. Can life get any more fucked up than this?

* * *

My hard-on disappeared, finally. At least there was some shred of morality in my filthy body. I was reeling, knocked for six. I flicked to a random page.

* * *

I’ve been horrible to Kyle-Dad for two whole months and he’s STILL here. I thought he’d have given up by now, fucked off back where he came from, but no. He hates me now, I know he does. Mother’s finally stopped parading him like a show pony. She hardly bothers with him at all. I haven’t seen them talk in days. She’s back on her phone again, planning trips again, like he never even arrived. I’m sure they’re not fucking, they act like they don’t even know each other.