Because that’s my thing. I’m what you’d call a dirty old man, I’m forty-five and I love the young ones, the ones who look virginal and sweet, who aren’t a day over twenty. And Tammy fit the bill exactly. I’d looked her up in the company database late last night and sure enough her stats popped onto the screen. Year of birth? 1998. Holy shit, the girl was eighteen, just my style.
But the best thing about the young, innocent-looking ones is that they’re not innocent at all. Fuck no. The ones who look like angels are usually the dirtiest sluts, the one who’ll fuck you this way and that, let you do anything to their bodies, and Tammy was turning out to be no exception.
Yesterday, witnessing her little masturbation scene in the women’s restroom? Fuck yeah. Seeing her filthy fantasy on her work computer? Fuck yeah. And the drawer full of sex toys? FUCK YEAH. In fact, one of the reasons why I’d moved her to headquarters was because I had every intention of trying out all those sex toys on her beautiful body … one at a time, making her cream and gasp with pleasure.
And we’d gotten off to a rarin’ start. The little girl was panting still, face down on my couch, her generous ass in the air as she struggled to recover from her orgasm. The panties I’d used were crumpled in my hand still and I brought them to my nose for one last sniff before dropping them in my desk drawer. Hell yeah. If I had some dull conference call or some stupid long email to write, I’d just whip that baby out and wrap it around my dick, massage myself to heaven and no one’d know for the better.
And the office was filled with her sex smell still, the female musk rolling off her curvy form in waves. What I wouldn’t give to bottle that scent, have it follow me around in a cloud like a heady spice.
But fuck, I hadn’t come yet and my dick was still dripping like a faucet, had been for the last ten minutes as I worked the little girl to her climax.
“Tammy,” I ground out, “come here.”
She looked up from the couch, breathing heavily, her eyes wide, dazed, as if she’d never experienced such pleasure.
“Come here,” I ground out harshly. “I’m not going to say it again.”
And the little girl obeyed, but not the way I’d expected. Instead of getting to her feet and wobbling over on unsteady legs, instead she got on her hands and knees and slowly crawled over to where I sat at my desk. Fuck, the sight was fantastic. Her curvy body, slightly flushed, her pale skin covered with a sheen of sweat. Those big boobs, swaying this way and that as she crawled, that huge ass bumping in the air with every movement. I was ready to cream immediately.
And as if in a trance, the brunette came to a stop before me, right between my parted legs.
“Yes Mr. Martin,” she breathed, her eyes mesmerized by my dick, mere inches from her face. The tip was running wetly, oozing down my length to soak my balls, my sperm copious and dripping.
“Lick it,” I ground out.
And the little girl obeyed. Her pink tongue flickered out and sampled the head of my shaft, lightly tasting the sperm there, caressing my glans. Oh fuck it felt good and I almost ejaculated right then, my balls were so high and tight with repressed need. But I had more in mind for the little girl.
“Suck it,” I commanded her again.
And this time the little girl took my shaft in a small hand and delicately placed her pink lips around the tip of my dick, pursing that perfect cupid’s bow, her tongue massaging my tip as her lips applied suction. Fuck, she was wearing some shade of pink lipstick, was that shit going to rub off on my dick? If so, it was going to be the best souvenir ever, I might not wash my dick for a while.
But I didn’t have a chance to figure it out because like a hungry baby, the girl began to lick my cock everywhere, tracing that delicate pink tongue up the pulsing vein on the bottom, flattening her tongue and taking deep, long strokes against my shaft, stretching the skin on the top of my penis tight and burrowing her tongue in my slit. And fuck if I my fuckpole didn’t start dripping even more, a literal faucet now, the jism running down my shaft like a fountain.
“Fuck you’re good,” I breathed, my chest heaving, abs painfully tight as the girl worked me. “The innocent looking ones always give the best head.”
And the girl looked up at me from her knees, smiling slyly.
“Is that so Mr. Martin? Am I so innocent?” she cooed.
And I threw my head back and laughed.
“You’re such a whore and you know it,” I ground out. “You fuck yourselves with sex toys at work, you watch porny videos on your work computer, and look at you now. Blowing your boss on your knees without a stitch of clothing on.”