Victoria Parker: How much for your daughter?

Amy loved having his big prick at her mercy. She had a good grip on the trembling stalk. She squeezed. The tip splashed a goosh of cum that spread down the long stalk onto her knuckles.

"Jeeez." Amy whispered, releasing one hand, clutching her shiny, yellow, hot bloomers, pulling them up, wiping her hand, swishing them over the top of Mr. Lane's prick. "You're sooo darn messy, sir!"

"Suck it!" he yelled. "Suck me, dammit!"

Amy swirled her bloomers off the top of his cock, let them drop down the shaft, released her other hand. The panties plopped in a yellow pile at the base. Then she gripped him again with both hands.

"Kiss my prick some more!"

"I don't think so, Mr. Lane. It's too gooshy and stuff. I'd get it all over my face. I could play with it, kinda jerk on your prick."

Her hands began a wicked pump on his mammoth prick.

"Oh, shit!" Mr. Lane huffed. "Oh, Amy!"

"Now don't go squirtin' and squishin' on my uniform," Amy whispered.

"I love you!" he rasped.

"If you loved me, you'd give me more than just an A," Amy teased.

"What do you want, darling?" Amy pumped his bubbling prick, pushed and pulled her hands in a vise-like grip up and down on the thick, throbbing cock.

"I dunno."

"Just tell me. I'll give it to you, if you'll suck me."

"It's so big. I couldn't get it all in my mouth."

"Just kiss and lick the top."

"Uh, well… maybe."

"What do you want?"

"I need some money, Mr. Lane."

"I'll give you some."

"How much?"

"A hundred dollars."

Amy started to lift off him. "No, no…"

"Wait, wait, Amy. You tell me."

"You want me to suck this big prick?"

"Yes!"

"Five hundred dollars."

"I can't pay that much."

Amy jerked harder, faster.

"Then we can't suck, can we, Mr. Lane?"

"You sweet bitch," Mr. Lane puffed.

Amy jerked. She jack-pumped his cock, sat prettily on top of him, hammering down on the big prick.

After what Mr. Huston had paid her, Amy wasn't about to sell her sweet charms for what she thought was a paltry sum. She wanted big money, and she knew she could get it, she knew she deserved it.

"Suck me, I'll get the money!" Mr. Lane yelped.

"You sure?"

"Yes, just do it!"

"Well, okay then," Amy said.

She bent over and puckered her pink lips on the fizzing fuckhead. She licked and swished her tongue on the big pricktip. Mr. Lane stiffened. Amy knew he was going to shoot.

She pumped fast now, licked hard, then she took his cock in her warm, wet mouth and sucked.

He came.

A hot spritz of cream gushed into Amy's mouth, hit the back of her throat. She gulped, she sucked, she swallowed, she let him shoot his load, and she shook his prick with her hands.

Mr. Lane poured it all out. He vibrated wildly. He wanted to scream with pleasure. Amy danced her head up and down. Cum spilled out of the corners of her mouth.

Mr. Lane slumped back in the chair, spent, dry, all petered out.

He huffed and puffed. His breath choked in his throat Amy kept sucking, suctioning out the drip of cum. She had never drunk cum before. Now she had a river of the hot gush shoot down her throat. She lifted off his cock.

Her lips were creamy.

Her chin dripped.

"Boy, you are really a naughty boy, Mr. Lane," she purred. "I might have to give you a good spanking."

Amy felt the power of her youthful beauty. She walked home from school knowing that she had what men wanted, what they needed, what they craved. Why shouldn't she make some money off her charms?

What was wrong with that? If the men wanted her so much, why not?

She had a bundle in the bank drawing interest from Mr. Huston. Mr. Lane said he'd pay her five hundred dollars next week. She smiled to herself.

Maybe she could get rich before she got out of high school. She arrived home and watched some MTV and waited for her mother.

Her mother came home earlier than usual.

"I have a date tonight. I'm running late. When he gets here, you talk to him, entertain him, okay?"

Amy looked sexy in her school uniform. She sat on the couch.

Janet started up the stairs. She turned. "Oh, his name is Bob Larson, he's very rich. He's president of a commuter airline. Be nice to him."

"Okay," Amy said.

Janet disappeared, and Amy heard the shower go on.

A minute later, the doorbell rang. Amy answered it. Mr. Larson stood in the doorway, a gray three-piece suit enhanced his business dignity.

He smiled and showed perfect teeth. He was tanned and handsome. Amy figured him in his forties. He was six feet tall, thin, and he looked rich.

"Hi, I'm Amy."

"Oh, yes, you're Janet's daughter. She told me about you."

"Mom got home late from work. She's getting ready. Come in."

Mr. Larson walked in and sat down on the couch.

"You could have a drink," Amy said.

He got back up and fixed a bourbon with water and two ice cubes. Then, he returned to the couch.

Amy sat across from him, her luscious, juicy, young body rippling in her school uniform. He smiled at her. She smiled back and noticed that he looked her over with a more than interested look, his eyes lingering on her legs, the way her skirt pleated out on her thighs, her tits in the pink sweater.

Amy liked the way he stared at her. She liked men to give her the hot-eye.

"And you're in high school now, your mother tells me," Bob said.

"Uh-huh." Amy said.

"What grade?"

"I'm a senior."

He sipped at his drink. Amy crossed her legs, held one high longer than usual, gave Mr. Larson a good look up her dark blue school skirt, let him see her pink panties.

"You're very pretty," he said, "just like your mother."

"She is pretty, isn't she?" Amy replied. "Yes," Mr. Larson said, again sipping his drink, ogling Amy over the top of the glass.

Amy wanted to say, Yeah and she's got big tits and a great body too, huh? But she kept quiet, just letting the older man stare at her.

Mr. Larson was thinking, God – what a beautiful young lass, what a sexy sweet girl.

Amy did look fabulous. Pink glistening lipstick made her lips shine. A bright pink blush on her cheeks highlighted the smooth skin. Her bangs were straight on her forehead. Her ponytail hung down and sloped over her shoulder in front, licking down at her round, juicy muffin-tits.

Amy slid to the edge of the chair and got up, her skirt puffing up high, almost over her panties. She walked over to Mr. Larson.

She stood in front of him, lifted her little school skirt up over her panties.

"You better do somethin' if you're gonna, 'cause Mom will be down soon."

"Ah… well… ahhhh, I…"

"Like if you wanna feel and stuff," Amy whispered.

"I, well, ahmmmm…"

"Go ahead, but you better hurry."

"Feel you right there?"

"Yeah, on my panties." Mr. Larson set his drink down on a table at the end of the couch. He edged forward, tentative, as if he were pondering whether he really should feel Amy on her panties.

She stood like a juicy tart in front of him. He craned his head out and licked at her thighs with his tongue, then slapped his wiggling dobber at her crotch. He was on her now. His mouth kissed her dumpling panties, sucked the pink crotch.

He sucked, lapped and kissed her panties.

"Jeeeeez, wow!" Amy gulped. "Wheeewww, my panties! You're eatin' my panties."

"Mmmmm, mmmm," Mr. Larson mumbled.

"Well, go ahead then!" Amy urged. Amy stood over him, watching his mouth, looking at his crotch, and she saw the bulging thump of his cock getting hard for her.

Mr. Larson thumbed her panties and tugged them down. He kissed her cunt.

"Jeeez, whoozzshhhit!" Amy huffed.

His tongue slicked up and down her slit. He reached behind her and cupped her ass. Amy pushed her pussy at his greedy mouth.