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Emily, part 1It happened one morning before work, at the Starbucks a block away from my office. An ordinary day, really: just a coffee, a danish, and a glance at news articles on my phone before work. And then I saw her, standing in line in front of me waiting to get a coffee. She couldn't have been more than nineteen. She had wavy caramel-brown hair with subtle blonde highlights that went down just above the small of her back. She wore a puffy North Face jacket, a pair of tribal-patterned leggings that showed off a round, pert little ass, and Ugg boots. I could feel my cock starting to stir once I caught sight of her ass. I tried to put the thought out of my mind. I was here for my morning coffee: a simple mocha espresso, whole milk, no whip, as usual. Not girls, no matter how hot they were, or how wonderful my cock would feel going inside their snug asses. *quot;Emily?*quot; the barista called out. *quot;Emily, pumpkin spice frappuccino!*quot; The girl--Emily--walked to the counter and picked up her drink. How typical, I thought. Patterned leggings, Ugg boots, and a pumpkin spice frappuccino. It only served to make me harder; girls like this were an especial weakness of mine. *quot;Basic white girls,*quot; they were called, with their teasingly suggestive bikini photos that they posted to Instagram and Snapchat, pumpkin spice lattes and frappuccinos, and obsession with Taylor Swift's music. I had a large collection of photos of girls like this stashed away in the recesses of my hard drive, but this was different. Here was a girl I actually wanted to do something with in the flesh, rather than a mere target for pent-up sexual energies I could handle by having a date with Rosie Palms. As she turned around to leave, I caught a glimpse of her face: it was heart-shaped, with large grey-blue eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and full lips.Unbidden ideas of what I wanted to do to Emily raced in my head; it was difficult to dispel the image of myself having my cock balls-deep inside her tight little snatch. Having her suck me off with her perfect, cock-sucking lips as I praised her for it. Jizzing on her face, watching my seed improve her features. Oh, Emily. Cummily. I wanted to make her mine, to defile her, to fuck her senseless, and have her know her place. I found it hard--pun intended--to concentrate as I spent eight hours in the office afterward. As I tried to proofread a submission, images of Emily flashed in my head. I couldn't keep thinking of a literary submission when I was thinking of Emily's submission to me. Her bodily submission, taking my dick in her cunt, her ass, her lovely little throat. Enough, I told my brain. Enough. But it seemed it wasn't enough. What was I thinking, I thought. I'm thirty-six. I have a five-year-old. Why am I so preoccupied with this girl who's about half my age? After I finally got home from work and had dinner with Andrew, I jumped into the shower and started stroking rhythmically to the memory of Emily. I imagined pinning her against the shower's walls, fucking her round ass as she screamed out in ecstasy and begged me to continue. I came as I'd never come before. If only she were actually there, and not just in the erotic theatre of my mind. I saw her again in line at Starbucks the next day. Same jacket, same boots, but now a pair of equally tight solid black leggings. These were sheer, allowing me to get an even better glimpse of her ass than I had the day before: perfectly formed round globes, tantalizingly visible underneath the sheer fabric. Yet again she ordered a pumpkin spice frappuccino. I wished that green straw were my rigid cock she was sucking on with those soft lips of hers. This time, however, Emily didn't walk out of the door immediately, but seemed to be moving toward the Eryaman Rus Escort bulletin board where people could post about local events, businesses, and newly released albums. Her hips swung slightly as she walked, making her perfect ass even more visible. She put up a sign saying, *quot;Babysitting Services with Emily,*quot; which had a clip-art image of a woman cradling a c***d, a blurb about her extensive experience, and some tear-off strips including her number. I needed a new babysitter anyway. This week would be the last week that Isabella would be watching Andrew, and I wanted a good replacement. Why not hire Emily? It was a two-pronged solution for my issue; Andrew would have a babysitter, and I would at least get to have a glimpse of her delicious little body three days a week. I entered Emily's number and listened to the phone ring. She responded enthusiastically, and I noticed that she had an adorable voice. Not exactly a little-girl voice, but light and perky, with a hint of a giggle. I noticed her voice would trail upward slightly at the end of each sentence, almost as though it was a question. Teen talk. I imagined what it would be like to hear it in bed during an intense session of foreplay. The following evening she came over to be interviewed. She was wearing a maroon sweater that showed off her shapely, B-cup breasts, a pair of skinny jeans that were so dark they could be nearly black, and white slip-on shoes. She waved shyly at me, then walked toward me to shake my hand and introduce herself. She seemed poised and reflective, somewhat different from how I'd perceived her at first. *quot;Are you in college around here?*quot; I asked.*quot;I'm actually still in high school,*quot; she said, laughing. *quot;I'm a senior.*quot; Oh, god, help me, I thought. The idea of fucking her tight, wet, high-school pussy made me even harder; there was something about the taboo nature of it that aroused me. *quot;That's impressive.*quot; My cock will be impressive, too, once you see it. *quot;You seem a bit older.*quot; *quot;Maybe it's because I'm taking some college-level classes at school,*quot; she said. *quot;There was no point in boring me to death.*quot; *quot;Hopefully your babysitting skills are as good as your academic ones,*quot; I said. And I hope you can take a cock well, too. *quot;I have a ton of references.*quot; She dug through her purse and gave me a folded up, printed list of names, phone numbers, and addresses. I contacted Emily's references, who gushed about her responsibility and way with c***dren. I was sold. By her actual babysitting techniques, anyway; if I were hiring her for her body, I would have done it on the spot. The first night that she came to watch Andrew, it was strictly business. I gave her instructions and left her with Andrew before leaving to teach my night classes--English 101 and 102 at a local community college. Emily and I did talk afterward, but it was mostly about Andrew. It continued in this vein for the next few weeks or so: I would leave her with instructions, she would watch Andrew, and when I came home we would take a few minutes to chat. As the weeks progressed, however, the topics became more about Emily herself: the colleges that she had applied to, her interest in becoming an English literature professor, her love for Romantic poetry, and arguments she'd had with her parents. The more I spoke to her, the more I wanted her, not only for her body, but her mind, too. I saw a lot of myself in her when I was that age: bookish, ambitious, and feeling stifled by high school and its attendant social strictures. I was amazed at my self-control; I had so far avoided intimating to Emily that I was attracted to her, much less that I wanted to fuck her raw. However, that all changed Sincan Rus Escort in January, after I'd arrived home after teaching grown adults how to write an essay worth reading. And it was a challenge, let me tell you. It's depressing to realize that so many adults can't seem to structure an essay coherently, tell the difference between *quot;you're*quot; and *quot;your,*quot; or put even a modicum of effort into understanding a character's motivations. *quot;Hi, Bruce!*quot; said Emily as I walked in and hung my coat up on the rack. She was sitting on the couch, cross-legged, wearing a short, silky nightgown and what appeared to be a push-up bra with the amount of cleavage she was showing. *quot;I've just put Andrew to bed. It was a battle, I'll say; he kept wanting to play on his iPad.*quot; She laughed and gestured toward Andrew's bedroom. I sat down next to her, giving her enough distance to avoid awkwardness, especially with her in that delightfully slutty outfit she was wearing. Emily, however, started to scoot toward me. *quot;You know,*quot; she said, glancing around furtively as though someone were about to enter the room to chastise her, *quot;I kind of want to stay here a little longer than usual tonight.*quot; There was something different in her voice; it seemed somehow husky. I tried not to read anything into it. Maybe she was just feeling a bit exhausted and didn't want to go home quite yet. *quot;Uh, what do you mean? I bet your parents will be worried.*quot; *quot;They're out of town,*quot; said Emily. *quot;My dad's giving a lecture in Sweden and Mom's coming along with him. They're not coming back until Monday.*quot; That made sense. Her father was a linguistics professor; naturally he'd be going to a conference. She moved closer to me to the point that our thighs were touching. *quot;I kind of like you,*quot; she said. *quot;Like, really, really like you.*quot; Her face started to go a bit red. Who knows how long she was waiting to confess this? *quot;I've been thinking about it since the beginning of December, but felt weird about it.*quot; *quot;Well, that makes things a lot easier,*quot; I said. *quot;Though... well. You're still in high school. I don't know if I should...*quot; *quot;Don't worry about it.*quot; Emily moved in to kiss me on the cheek. *quot;I prefer older men anyway. And I'm already 18.*quot; She sat on my lap and started to caress my face, looking at me contemplatively as she did it. Then she started loosening my shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and running her hands across my chest. *quot;Nice chest hair,*quot; she said. *quot;You know, chest hair is a real turn-on for me. Most of the guys I've been with barely have any.*quot; *quot;Well, teenage boys generally don't.*quot; I finished Emily's job by undoing my last button, then tossed the shirt aside on the couch. *quot;Your turn,*quot; she said. *quot;Come on. You know you want to.*quot; My fingers started to tremble as I slowly pulled off her skimpy nightie. Sure enough, she was wearing a red, lacy, push-up bra that showed off her perfect tits, along with matching underwear. What a little slut, I thought. Oh, I'm going to have a wonderful time with you. Then I unhooked the back of her bra to reveal her tits in their full glory. Slightly puffy nipples and small pink areolae: excellent. I took her right tit in my hand and started to suck on it hungrily. She moaned with pleasure. *quot;I love it when guys do that,*quot; she said in a breathy voice. *quot;Uh, maybe we should take this to the bedroom,*quot; I said. *quot;It might be more comfortable.*quot; *quot;Good idea.*quot; She stood up first, and I got a glimpse of her from the back. The panties she wore showcased her cute little ass to perfection. When we got to my bedroom, Emily lay on the bed and spread her legs outward. It was time to move to the real fun. I followed her into the bed, leaned over her, and started pulling off Etlik Rus Escort her panties to reveal her tight, smooth little high-school cunt. I could tell by looking at it that it would fit snugly around my cock. Not to mention that she'd shaved it bald--perfect. Bush got in the way when going down on girls. *quot;Lie back,*quot; I said, *quot;and let me taste that sweet pussy of yours.*quot; I placed my tongue just below her navel and started working slowly toward her eager, wet cunt. She breathed harder and harder as I approached it. Once I got there, I started licking her clitoris rhythmically. I could taste her sweet pussy juices; they seemed almost ambrosial. Even my late wife's cunt didn't taste this magnificent when she was alive. I was subtle, trying to make sure that I didn't quite bring her to orgasm. No, I wanted her to scream out with ecstasy when she took my cock. When she truly became mine. *quot;Fuck me,*quot; she said as I started sucking her clit. *quot;I know that's what we're both here for.*quot; *quot;Mmmm.*quot; I took off my pants and underwear and tossed them beside the bed. My cock was the hardest it had ever been. I guessed there was nothing like the prospect of fucking a tight little teen to bring me to that level of arousal. I went in, and it was everything I'd expected it to be. As I went deeper and deeper inside her, Emily started screaming in ecstasy. *quot;Go further! Go further! Oh, this feels so good. Yes, yes!*quot;Sweat was pouring from her brow, and she started to breathe more rapidly than ever. *quot;Oh yes. Oh yes. Keep going, keep going!*quot; I couldn't believe it. I was balls-deep inside her teenage cunt and it felt just as wonderful as I'd imagined. It had an almost vise-like grip that enveloped my cock perfectly. And she loved it. A cute little teen letting me have my own way with her. A sexy high-school minx begging to have more of my cock. A young temptress that was here to fuck and be fucked. I could have been the happiest man alive at that point. *quot;Oh, fuck, you're so tight,*quot; I murmured. As I fucked her, I could feel my balls starting to explode. *quot;I'm going to come. Oh, yeah.*quot;*quot;Do it on my face,*quot; said Emily. *quot;I've never had a guy do it there before.*quot; I slid out of her, still rock hard, and repositioned myself so that my cock pointed toward her face. I drained my balls all over her gorgeous heart-shaped face. It was magnificent. Ropes of cum were in her beautiful hair, on her cheeks, on her full, sensual lips.*quot;You've made me yours, haven't you?*quot; she said as she reached for a tissue to wipe my seed off her face. *quot;Mmmm. Don't wipe the cum off just yet; I want to remember it. Make sure to smile.*quot; I took out my phone and took a photo of Emily's sperm-covered, beaming face; I'd use it to jerk off to when she wasn't there. *quot;Now you can wipe it off.*quot; She dutifully picked up the tissue and wiped her face. And then we lay there, spent, beside each other, arms entwined. *quot;Wow. I've never had sex like that before,*quot; said Emily. *quot;The guys I've slept with--and the one girl--just weren't as talented at it.*quot; *quot;Well, I haven't, either.*quot; And it was true. Oh, I'd had sex all right. I'd fucked girlfriends in the past, and my wife when she was alive. But none of them could compare to Emily. *quot;How many people have you slept with?*quot; *quot;I've got to go,*quot; said Emily. *quot;I'd stay overnight, but I'm walking distance from my school. I'll get an Uber.*quot; She scooped up her nightgown and panties from the floor where they'd been lying. I followed her into back the living room, where she pulled out her backpack and threw on a fuzzy mohair sweater that made her tits stick out, a pair of thick black leggings, and her North Face jacket. I also noticed that she'd thrown on a new pair of panties instead of the ones she was wearing when we'd fucked. I bade her goodnight and kissed her on the forehead before she left. *quot;See you on Thursday,*quot; she said. *quot;We should do that again. Also, keep these.*quot; She handed me the red panties, still wet from her juices. A perfect cum-rag, when she wasn't there to serve as one. Well, on Thursday, I thought as she walked out of the door, I must do something with that delicious ass. She'll be ready then.