Nan Bangcroft - Putting Out For Pop

“Yes!”

"Let's go check," he grunted, setting the paper aside.

"Let's not and say we did," she countered.

"Come on," he ordered, reaching for her.

"No!" she said angrily. "I won't.”

"Oh, yes you will!" he growled, grabbing her arm.

"You're hurting me," she whined, trying to twist away.

Ignoring her straggles and protests, he started for her room. He felt like he was dragging an anchor.

"You're mean," Patty wailed. "You're mean and nasty!”

"Keep talking," he growled as he kicked the door open. "You're building your own coffin.”

"You-you-you bastard! Yow!" The last came as he sailed her across the room and into the rumpled, tangled mess of her bed.

"I haven't spanked you since your mother died," Mike said grimly. "Obviously, that is an error that I had better remedy right now. You seem to have forgotten your manners.”

"You wouldn't dare," Patty said warily as he advanced across the room toward her. He kicked his way through the litter of clothes and shoes and records and jewelry that cluttered the floor.

"Oh, yes I would," he said softly. "I most certainly would.”

She frowned and her eyes darted to the door. When she made a break for it, he was ready. His arm swept out and around her waist. She doubled over, kicking and protesting, as he heaved her into the air.

Shoving aside the mass of dirty clothes and tangled sheets, he sat down on her bed. He stretched her, still kicking and swearing like a longshoreman, across his lap, and held her there with one hand.

"And another thing," he told her, "these obscenely tight pants you have taken to wearing have got to go!" damping his hand in the back of the waistband, he gave a wrench. With a loud groan, the seams gave way. A casual jerk and he had the tattered remnant down around her thighs. He was surprised that he wasn't surprised to find she wasn't wearing panties. The bare white cheeks of her ass gleamed up at him.

"YOW!" Patty wailed.

Mike felt a hot knot of lust forming in his gut and tried to fight it down. He had gone too far to back out now. But sweet God, she had a great tail! Cursing himself, he reached down and stroked the satin-smooth flesh gently.

The squirming and kicking subsided. It was as if his touch had soothed a bucking horse. Taking a firm grip on himself, Mike looked around for something to use on those pale globes. Nothing. There was a hair brush on the bureau across the room, but he didn't dare release his captive in order to go get it.

His hand tingled at the thought of touching her tight white ass. Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself for the job. He hoped Patty couldn't feel the lump that was forming in his lap, or that if she could, she wouldn't know what it was. His stomach was churning with tension and lust.

He stroked her warm skin again, as if measuring her for the first blow. Finally, he succeeded in raising his hand and bringing it down on her bare hide.

"Owwwoooo," Patty wailed.

The sound cut into him like a dull knife, but somehow he managed to avoid saying, "It hurts me as much as it does you," or "It's for your own good.”

Instead, he applied a second stinging slap to her tail. Her squirming and twisting were making her T-shirt ride up and her kicking was making her tattered shorts slip down her legs. As he found himself facing more and more bare skin, his cock got harder and harder. She was squirming against it, rubbing it. It kept getting stiffer and stiffer.

His palm was stinging from the swatting. Pausing for just a moment, he shifted his grasp on her, clasping her thighs with his sore hand so he could use the other one on her tail. Inadvertently, one finger slipped between her slim thighs, and he felt the soft moistness of her pussy. He started to shift his grasp, and she almost squirmed free. When he had her under control again, he found his finger was wrapped in hot, warm flesh.

In an effort to distract himself from that problem, and the aching hard-on that was grinding into her gut, he spanked her again. Both her tail cheeks were bright pink. She wriggled, actually lifted her bottom as if eager for the next blow. Then she began writhing against his cock. He didn't see how she could possibly not know it was there.

Her head and arms were hanging down over the left side of his lap. She was clutching at his thigh to keep from falling off. Suddenly the way her arms embraced his thigh felt different, and her fingers were sliding up the inside of it, toward his groin. He couldn't believe she knew what she was doing. She tickled his testicles, He started to tell her to stop it, but the stinging flow from his prick tip drowned the words in his throat. His finger nestled deeper into her pussy, into her warm, slippery folds. Then she was humping against his finger!

"You've got to remember," he said feebly, “who is the boss around here.”

"Yes, Daddy," she answered breathily, and slid her fingers deftly around his balls.

His blows were losing their sting, becoming caresses really. He had a desperate urge to bend forward and kiss her lovely abused globes. His grip on her thighs loosened. She slipped around on his lap, slid down off his knees. Her T-shirt rode up, bared her just-maturing tits.

"God! No!" he protested as she fingered his cock through his trousers. He tried to push her hands away, but she fought through his guard and ran his zipper down. His phallus had already slithered through the fly of his underpants. Now it thrust into her dainty little fingers.

"God, no," he moaned as she licked her lips in a way that left no doubt as to what she was about to do.

"Noooo," he groaned as her mouth embraced his throbbing penis. A swamp of cum formed in his groin as he watched her lips encircle his prick. He clutched her head, so he could push her away. Instead, he found himself guiding her face down farther on his dong. She was holding the shaft in the fingers of both hands as she sucked it, as her tongue played a maddening tune on the underside of his skin-flute.

"God, no," he repeated mindlessly as she rose on her knees so she could get a better angle on his phallus. She glutted her mouth with his searing dork, sucked out his pre-cum with tongue and lips as her teeth knocked the tender flesh of the shaft. Her nose flared as she inhaled. The head of his cock nudged the back of her mouth.

She drew up, left his dick shining with spit. Holding it delicately, she licked it. Her tongue stroking it felt like a velvet blanket. It whipped the cum in his groin to a froth. She went after his cock like it was a popsicle or a sucker of some kind. Her tongue curled sinuously around his meaty shaft as he stroked her short, tousled blonde hair.

Her eyes closed as she bathed his dong with her mouth. There was no triumph in her actions, no superiority at how she had defused his discipline. Instead, there was love and devotion.

She engulfed his dong again, sliding it to the back of her mouth along the velvet channel of her tongue. Her little tits were jutting points of arousal on the shy hills of her breasts. Down between her thighs he could see her pussy-bulging full lips with just a few fine golden strands of hair.

Still keeping his cock in her mouth, she scrambled to her feet. Turning almost upside down, she leaned over him. She eased her face down on his phallus, and he watched in amazement as more and more of his tower vanished into her mouth. He felt her throat open, felt the head of his dork jam her glottis as she swallowed skillfully.

She was fifteen, and she was taking cock down her throat like an old pro. His gut began seeping as he watched his phallus vanish into her mouth. He wondered how her face could keep the youthful expression of innocence while taking his entire prick.

She began to fuck her face on his phallus, began easing up and down. Her nostrils flared as she breathed. He felt her steamy breath puff against his prick on every other stroke as she exhaled. She slid her fingers under his nuts, lifting them as if weighing the amount of sperm available.