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What the hell am I doing?
The rational part of my brain is aware that fucking her is the quickest and easiest way to break the will, but this still feels like a really fucking stupid thing to do. Spending time with her this morning has given me fresh perspective on Penelope, but I still don’t like her, and I don’t fuck girls I don’t like.
Finding willing pussies to play with isn’t hard. I’m a good-looking motherfucker with a big trust fund and an even bigger dick. I’m prime real estate, yet somehow Princess just made me feel like a fucking last resort. Most girls are begging to suck my dick, but she isn’t, and to be honest, she looks terrified and fucking appalled by the whole thing.
I should have said no, but there’s something about knowing I’m taking her virginity that made it impossible to refuse. I’ve had the opportunity to fuck virgins before, but the blood and potential messiness of dealing with all the emotions that come with girls having their first sexual experience seemed like more hassle than it was worth.
But something primal and a little fucked up inside of me likes the idea that I’m going to be the first man to touch Penelope. She’s coveted her virginity like a prize, because that’s exactly what it was. That fucking will insisted that she be pure, but the only thing that’s innocent about Penelope is her perfect fucking cunt. And soon it’s going to be mine.
I’d never admit it out loud, but I can’t fucking wait to push my cock into her tight pussy and claim it as my own. It’s why I told her I wouldn’t wear a condom. I want to feel the moment her virginity rips. I want to know the exact moment that her body accepts my ownership and molds to the shape of my cock.
The entire way to the electronics store to buy the video camera, my mind swings backward and forward on why I should not be doing this, but the truth of the matter is, the moment she asked me, I knew I was going to say yes.
When I told her I needed to be in charge, she agreed so fucking sexily. I actually thought that would be the bit she argued about. I assumed she’d want to run the show and just use my dick to break her hymen, rather than doing it herself with a dildo. But she’d accepted my condition willingly, and then she’d blushed when she admitted she had no idea what she was doing when it came to sex.
It makes me wonder just how innocent she is. Has she kissed a guy? Touched his dick, jerked him off, sucked him into her mouth, and tasted his cum? Has she let anyone taste, lick, and touch her? Is she shaved, ready to be gifted, or natural, ready to be groomed to her future husband’s preference?
Fuck, just thinking about anyone else taking one of her firsts bothers me more than it should. She isn’t my girlfriend, wife, or anything in between. She’s nothing to me, and having sex with her will be nothing more than a simple exchange of services. I’ll take her virginity and save her sister, and she’ll get to free herself from an inheritance she no longer wants.
Simple.
Only there’s nothing simple about Princess. I’ve fucked my fair share of girls, and I enjoy sex as much as the next red-blooded teenage boy. I like the feeling of a hot mouth, pussy, or ass around my dick, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. But until today, I’ve never fantasized about it being Penelope’s mouth, pussy, or ass, and now it’s all I can think about.
It takes me less than thirty minutes to buy a video camera and a tripod and drive back to the marina, but now I’m frozen, sitting in my car, staring at my boat like it contains a live bomb, which I suppose it does.
My dick is so fucking hard, I’m considering jerking off just so I don’t blow the moment I see Princess’s cunt. I want to fuck her. I know I shouldn’t, because she’s a fucking awful person, but I just can’t help it. The thought of Penelope following my every command before I part her legs and fill her with my cock is one of my filthiest fantasies come to life, and even though I know this could all be part of a bigger manipulation, I still want her.
Needing to calm down, I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. The moment my eyelids close, all I can see are images of Princess on her knees while I feed my dick into her mouth and tell her exactly what to do to make me come.
Shit.
Snapping my eyes open again, I count to one hundred, silently banishing each dirty, depraved image that pops into my head. Eventually my heartbeat slows to a normal rate, and my dick calms enough that I can at least hide my erection beneath my boxers.
Grabbing the camera and tripod from the trunk, I walk up the gangplank and onto my boat. Despite me telling her to be in the bedroom when I got back, I’m still expecting to find her lounging dramatically on the couch or watching TV in the den, but instead the boat is silent, the living room empty.
For a second, I wonder if she left. Maybe she realized how crazy this was and ran? Padding quietly through the boat, I pause in front of the bedroom and brace myself for it to be empty. Turning the handle, I slowly open the door, pulling in a ragged, relieved breath when I find her exactly where I told her to be, sitting in the middle of my big bed, with the TV playing quietly in the corner.
“Hi,” she says, turning to face me, all of her attention focused on my face, just like I taught her.
Despite her abhorrent attitude and nasty demeanor, Penelope is incredibly malleable. In the time we’ve spent together today, I’ve told her twice that I expect her to be looking at me when we speak, and now she does it like it’s second nature. If she is a victim of her parents’ manipulation, then I’m starting to see how easy that would be. If I can moderate her behavior in a couple of hours, how much could they train her to do what they want in the years they’ve spent molding her into the perfect heiress?
“I thought you’d left,” I confess, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me.
“Why would I leave?” she asks earnestly.
“I thought you’d changed your mind. That would be okay, Penelope. If you had. We don’t have to do anything if you decide this isn’t how you want things to go down.”
Her gaze drops to the bag in my hand and she stiffens a little. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
Nodding, I fight the urge to reach down and adjust my thickening cock. “Why are you in here?”
Her brow furrows in confusion. “This is where you told me to be.”
Smiling, I nod. “And I’m in charge, aren’t I, Princess?”
Her nod is tentative, but I need more.
“You’re in charge, Hawthorn,” I prompt.
