Punishing the Brats

Wouldn't it make sense, too? To have my virginity taken by someone with experience - not a little High School boy who gets so excited he climaxes within the first two minutes, or even worse, who hurts me?

I am certain that John is a great lover. And a gentle one. Despite my mother apparently having grown tired of him. But she is not a good standard to go by. I have never seen her with a man for longer than just a couple of years before she dumped them. And she has been with John the longest, almost five years by now! That must mean something, considering her usual cheating behavior has just started to show up a few months ago.

John is sitting at the kitchen counter, having his morning coffee and some toast, when I stroll downstairs in my extremely short pajama pants and a tank top that barely manages to cover my breasts. No bra, of course.

I come straight out of the shower, my long wet hair is falling down on my shoulders, leaving little streams of water that are running down my shoulders - and my breasts.

The aim is to drive him wild with desire, wild enough so he cannot resist, knowing that I am not drunk and completely in control of what I truly want.

"Good morning!" I say, casting him an innocent smile as I hop over to the coffeemaker.

He looks up from his newspaper and returns my greeting, a lot less enthusiastic, of course.

I can feel his eyes on my behind as I pour myself a cup of coffee. He is checking me out for sure. I am proven right when I abruptly turn around and he quickly draws his eyes away from me.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, without looking at me. "Hungover?"

"Not at all!" I pipe. "I am feeling great."

"Good," he says. "You were quite... out there. Promise me, that'll never happen again, will you?"

I stroll over to the counter, standing opposite of him while I add some milk to my coffee.

/> "Will you tell mom?" I ask, looking at him with pleading eyes.

He looks up at me, his face stern. "I should. She would want to know."

"But daddy," I protest. "I wasn't even that drunk! You are totally exaggerating!"

He raises his eyebrows. "I think you were pretty plastered. With the way you were behaving..."

"Why?" I hum, innocently peaking at him as I sip on my coffee. "I wasn't doing anything I wouldn't do again. Even right now."

He clears his throat, unable to return my look. "I highly doubt that."

I narrow my eyes and place my coffee mug on the counter between us.

"You don't believe me?" I ask. "I could show you right now!"

I make a move to take off my tank top, but he stops me by grabbing my right arm. His grip is tight and decisive. It almost causes me to moan.

"Would you please stop that!" He hisses. "What has gotten into you?"

I make a sad face. "You didn't like what you saw, daddy?"

He lets go of my arm and frowns at me. "That's irrelevant."

"It's not to me!" I object. "You know, I am a little insecure about myself... some girls at school said my boobs are too big for my body frame."

He doesn't reply anything, but just shakes his head and makes a move to continue reading his paper.

"So, you don't agree?" I press. "You think they look good? Not too big?"

He doesn't reply anything, but just shakes his head and makes a move to continue reading his paper.

"So, you don't agree?" I press. "You think they look good? Not too big?"

I pull up my shirt until my boobs spring free, seductively bounding in front of him. Of course, he cannot resist the urge to look up. And again, I can see the lust in his eyes, the undeniable desire to take my virgin body just as I want him to.