Unknown - Daddy_s Little Girl

Now her awkward frightened moans were changing to something more like soft, urgent mewls of pleasure – pleasure that she did not want to give in to, but which was so deliciously illicit – pleasure that she had intended to struggle against… but that slithering thick tongue, licking so hotly and without mercy at her burning cuntal slit, was forcing her to enjoy it regardless of all moral considerations.

Suddenly she raised her trembling hands, moaned something unintelligible and indecisive – then dropped them to grasp Brute's earnestly working head!

Uttering a savage animal sob, she suddenly kicked her legs back and up over her head, dragging Brute's snout forward into her well-lubricated, pleasure-churning cunt. His enormous tongue thrust up the moist passageway like an attacking lizard, ravishing her upthrust loins without mercy. Wild, incoherent groans burst from her agonized lips, pleading with and encouraging the dumb animal who was salivating between her writhing upturned buttocks.

Brute worked like the savage beast he was, the rutting lust of the wild and his devotion to his voluptuous russet-haired mistress driving him on…

By now Dora was so intoxicated with rapture that she was heedless of everything else in the world. Her mouth hung open in enchanted ecstasy as she knelt there before her own pet – her glassy, lust-smoked eyes stating up into nothingness as the powerful animal lapped hungrily at her hot wet loins. She could not remember when she had been so happy.

The dog's thick wet tongue ran like fire the entire length of her sexual crevice, above which her rapidly rising and falling belly fluttered as if filled with a million butterflies. The moist red slit of her vagina felt as if it was being drenched in sweet honey. Each fresh flick of Brute's magnificent tongue imparted a fresh torment. The dainty pleasure-button of her clitoris felt as if it were being teased by lightning, and had expanded into hardness just above the stretched pink opening of her cuntal entrance.

Brute continued to snake his wet tongue maddeningly over the quivering little nub of raw nerves at the peak of her steaming pussy slit. Dora's body jerked with each electric contact and her legs clamped tightly together around his furry head, the soft inner thighs imprisoning his snout in a vise-like grip.

Then her hips began a slow up-and-down movement in rhythm to the probings of his slavering tongue, while all the while endless groans mingled with soft animal mews of sheer pleasure from between her fiercely clenched teeth. She was trapped in a mindless fit of uncontrolled lust and her upper torso writhed like a belly-dancer's.

Her body seemed to be squirming out of control, twisting lustfully after the depraved lapping of her burning loins. Hopelessly, Dora surrendered to the nerve-shattering lickings of that dominating animal tongue within her moistly flaming pussy.

"Oh God," she groaned helplessly as the tantalizing licking dominated her entire being. She screwed her pelvis helplessly back onto his snout and worked it around in small little circles, sighing all the while at the delicious animal tonguing that was taking place at the very entrance to her soul. There had never been anything in the world like this urgent feeling, nothing else in the world but that fiercely lashing tongue which was sending her upward into such majestic heights of ecstasy. Dora reveled and wallowed in this lewd tingling joy until it seemed as if her body was going to explode into a thousand fragments. Her vaginal passage felt as if it were literally on fire.

"Ooooooh yesssss," she hissed, enslaved. "Lick me, darling. Lick your mistress!

Help me! Faster, darling, oh faster!" she begged, gasping for air. She was approaching orgasm and her body had become something animal and no longer resembling anything human, with her enormous fulsome breasts, swelled and hard and throbbing with blue veins, tossing this way and that, her dark auburn curls shaking all over, her pelvis grinding upwards into Brute's furiously lapping tongue while she held his pointy ears and tried to draw his snout right up into her cunt.

Then suddenly Dora began to feel the tide of sensation rising towards orgasm.

Beginning deeply in her fluttering belly, the very hopelessness of her position and the debasing ravishment of her flesh was bringing tiny ripples of fire dancing through her tattered nerves. Tantalized beyond belief, she felt her loins begin – at last – to hurtle outwards like a bright ball of fire towards an almost impossible climax. And then her insides were erupting in bright white flashes, and she felt and saw the cum gushing from the walls of her vagina and out over Brute's hyperactive snout until his very whiskers were dripping with the obscene wetness. A never ending stream of pleasure seemed to blow outward through her shattered nerves until she wanted to shriek and shriek and shriek for joy. She groaned as her orgasm flooded his handsome face in great sensual waves of cum, seeping warmly from her vaginal lips and down the insides of her quivering white thighs, the feeling so indescribable that she felt as if she must be dying from pure pleasure. The whole of the moaning mother's loins felt wet and used beyond belief, as for one long moment she shuddered with joy on the brink and in the middle of that most joyous orgiastic moment, and then screamed, jackknifed her legs twice, and fell forward on the bedroom carpet into her own soaking perspiration, tears of heavenly relief rolling from her tightly clenched eyes.

Guy Donovan shook his Chicago Daily News in his big hands, and occasionally glanced distractedly out the window of the evening commuter special that was carrying him from Chicago's downtown northward to the North Shore. Not long ago the Chicago amp; Northwestern had attached a drinking car to its commuter trains, but he did not feel in a gay enough mood for the bar. He was so preoccupied with other things that he was sure he would snap at anyone he met who tried to be friendly. And trouble was the last thing in the world he wanted just now.

Guy sighed and finally folded up the; newspaper, brushing his large hand back through his dark curly hair. He looked out the window at the swiftly passing city, a city of large factories, tall buildings thrown up with total disregard of all other human considerations save the central one: The making of money.

Here and there tenements dotted this masculine, factory city, and there were parks. Off to the east there was the pleasant skyline of high-rises mingled with the shining blue of Lake Michigan. Between the two lay an endless range of white sandy beaches, more so than strangers to Chicago might ever have expected, surfeited as they usually were on a diet of gangster stories from the "city of the big shoulders."

Guy Donovan looked glumly at his hands. They were large hands, the backs of which were fairly inundated with dark black curly hairs. The morning had not gone well.

For one thing, he had been almost continually distracted from the very beginning. Starting with the first hour that morning, when he hadn't been able to put his maturing young daughter June out of his mind for a single instant.

He had fumbled through his paperwork, and behaved distractedly with his secretary, and finally when the girl from the typing pool had showed up for their usual 10:30 tete-a-tete, he had been unable to imagine that it was anyone other than his voluptuously beautiful blonde daughter. As the girl had knelt between his legs and sucked so clingingly along the entire thickness of his throbbing hot penis, with her long blonde hair cascading over his half-naked loins and lying softly off against the insides of his legs, it was easy to imagine June…

June, with her soft, pliable little-girl lips, her far-from-little-girl breasts, her long, honey-blonde hair wafting along his legs…