Frank Brown: Wild naughty daughter

"I'll get it cut right away," Sally blurted.

"Cut? You'll do no such thing, young lady. I mean, it must have taken you years to grow it so long, and it would be a crime to cut it now." The elevator opened at the top floor, and Mr. Lipman let Sally exit first.

He led her down a carpeted hallway, past several offices, but didn't enter the large waiting room of the office labeled: George Lipman, President. Instead, he unlocked an unmarked door farther down the hallway, and showed Sally inside. The room was more of a lounge than an office, resembling a well-furnished living room. There was an intercom in it, though, which Mr. Lipman touched.

"Maxine, absolutely no interruptions, please, until I've finished some pressing business."

"Yes, sir," came Maxine's reply.

"Shall we be seated, my dear?" Mr. Lipman said, indicating the plush couch.

Sally sat down and felt self-conscious under the eyes of Mr. Lipman, who stood over her. She crossed her bare legs.

"Relax," Mr. Lipman said. He suddenly dropped down to his knees in front of her. He put his sweaty hands on her knees and uncrossed her legs, spreading spreading them. "There now, don't you feel more relaxed? I always like my girls to be relaxed. And your name is?"

"Sally Myers."

"Sally. Now isn't that a sweet name? I'm George Lipman, if you haven't guessed. You may have seen me on TV?"

"Oh sure, everybody knows who you are, Mr. Lipman."

The man smiled. "Yes, they do, unfortunately. Well, Sally, I'd like you to call me George whenever we're alone together – but only then. At all other times you are to call me Mr. Lipman. We need a salesgirl for the Sporting Goods Department. Full time now, although once school starts again, I realize you'll have to go to part-time. Have you had any experience with sporting goods or as a sales clerk?"

Sally felt faint. "No, I'm afraid not."

George gave her a deadpan expression, then started to shake his head. Sally tensed to receive the bad news.

"Fine," George said. "Can you begin this morning?"

Sally thought she was hearing things. She couldn't speak.

"You're hired, my dear. Can you begin this morning?"

"Well, yes," Sally finally said. "Just as soon as I can run home and change clothes."

"No need, darling, we have enough clothing in this store to outfit you daily for ten lifetimes. Let's see, about what size shoe do you wear? No, don't tell me, let me calculate it."

He picked up Sally's left foot and held it as he sat back on his heels. His fingers measured her foot, weighed it, began to caress it and massage it.

"You have beautiful feet, Sally," he breathed harder, wheezing louder. "So beautifully tanned and dirty."

He suddenly raised her foot to his lips and kissed it.

Sally squirmed a little, not knowing what the man was going to do next. George Lipman – "the" George Lipman – had just kissed her grubby bare foot. She must be dreaming!

"Relax, darling, I'm going to give you a cursory physical examination. Very quick. Painless. Quite pleasant, as a matter of fact. It's required of all new female employees, I'm afraid, so just relax." He started to lick her toes.

Sally was shaking. This couldn't be happening! She had the disturbing feeling that George Lipman was going to eat her alive.

George wrapped his fat lips around her toes and started to suck on them. Sally gasped.

She was helpless, unable to move, not knowing if she would move if she could. The sensations flooding her feet from George's hot lips and tongue working on her toes made her want to squeeze her legs together. Her pussylips were puffing up, and the crotch-seam of her tight shorts pulled up between them. Her loins started to throb, and suddenly she wanted desperately to take off her shorts.

George wheezed, his face a bright red, the strands of hair combed over his bald pate falling away and dangling from his temple like limp spaghetti. He lapped at Sally's bare foot, slithering his tongue between her toes. He kissed her foot, gnawed on it. He took up her other foot and began to do the same to it.

"Nothing's better than a barefoot teenage girl," he whispered. "Nothing! Oh, delicious!" He munched on her feet and toes until his spit was dripping off them. Then he started to lick his way up her legs.

"So smooth! You don't even shave them. Downy. Oh lovely!"

He pushed her legs wide apart, leaning between them so he could lick the insides of her thighs.

Sally's heart slammed. She was sweating, her face burning up. Her cunt felt like it would explode. Her legs tingled all the way to the tips of her toes. She had no doubts now that George Lipman was seducing her. She had no doubts that she was helpless to stop him. Nor did she want him to stop. He could do whatever he wanted to her.

He mashed his nose to her crotch, inhaling deeply. "Oh, that smell? Teenage cunt! If I could bottle it, I'd be a billionaire overnight."

He inhaled again and again, as if he'd never get enough of her scent.

Sally was moaning, squirming, wiggling her ass. Her toes wriggled. She didn't know what to do. She just wanted to shove a few fingers up her crotch and jerk herself off quick, before she lost her mind.

George unsnapped and unzipped her shorts. As he pulled them off her ass, Sally raised up automatically to assist him and she pointed her toes as he slipped the shorts off over her feet. He spread her legs wide, opening up her blonde furred pussy. Sally felt the air-conditioned coolness licking the wet pink meat between her pussylips.

"Quick, the shirt!" George panted, and Sally let him whisk off the blouse so fast that three buttons popped off.

She wasn't wearing a bra. The air caressed her completely naked body and she'd never felt more naked in her life. Nobody had ever seen her so exposed before. Two impulses fought within herself – one impulse to curl up and hide herself, the other to open up, to spread her legs even farther, to drape her arms over the top of the couch and leave her tits completely vulnerable to attack. The second impulse won. She'd waited too long for this. She wanted to be taken! Completely!

"Oh my angel!" George muttered deliriously. He leaned close, kissing each of her nipples, then sucking on them.

Sally groaned, thrusting her tits deeper into his mouth, rubbing her bare ass against the plush cushion underneath her. The hot pussyjuice bubbled out of her throbbing, burning crotch. The smell of hot pussy rose in the air like musk-scented steam. As George munched on her tits, her cunt contracted again and again. She'd die unless she either squeezed her legs together or shoved a finger inside herself. The fuck-itch in her crotch was maddening.

"Oh, you luscious girl!" George dripped sweat on her as he slobbered over her. His fat lips nipped and sucked, moving all over her tits, down her smooth belly and flanks. He licked up, tasting her armpits. Then he licked his way down and drove his tongue into her navel. "Oh, you delicious little bitch! You're going to drive me out of my mind!"

Sally was a little shocked by his calling her a bitch, but she was trembling too hard to let the word bother her. She was so worked up that he could have called her every dirty name under the sun and she would have ignored him. He called her a bitch again, talking about how good she smelled, how all teenaged bitches smell alike, and this time she found herself enjoying being called the name, found herself being excited by it. Suddenly George Lipman was licking her crotch, and Sally nearly hit the ceiling.

"Ooooaoh!" she moaned. "Mr. Lipman, oooooh!" She put her hands on his shiny wet scalp, gripping his head tight as she pressed his face between her legs.

The man wheezed, gasped as if he were smothering, growled like a dog, mumbled like a crazy man. He pressed his thumbs into her puffed-up pussy-slabs and pried the slabs apart so he could lick the sizzling red crotchmeat between them. He lapped up and down, slurping up the sweet girl-goo that oozed from deep inside her quivering pleasure-hole.