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But fuck, I can’t help enjoying the reality of his idiot character. I thrive on his sick arsed degradation, because it makes what I’m doing feel so much dirtier, and makes me feel much more in role, ready for Daddy. Holly the sweet little dearest feels like she’s being so much dirtier for fucking her boyfriend.
“Harder, please,” I say. “Just make me better than the other girls. I can be, I promise. Just give me the chance.”
He pistons himself deeper, at an even worse angle, but I don’t cry out, just grit my teeth and look up at him like I’m desperate to prove myself.
“Play with your clit, if you like,” he says, but I shake my head.
“I don’t need to. Being with you is enough. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years.”
The prick’s eyes widen at that. I wonder if he can maintain his skills enough to stay in role, but he surprises me. He goes along with it.
“Did your sick fuck of a daddy find your notebook?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yeah, he did.”
“And what did he do to you? Did he slap your ass for being a dirty bitch?”
“He hit me so hard, but I don’t care. I’d take it all over again for you.”
I hitch myself just a touch higher on the sofa arm, and he grunts at the new position. Yeah, fuck him, I’ll get into the right angle myself, I want to be moaning for real when Daddy gets home.
Scott doesn’t stop me shifting, just keeps on slamming my pussy, and I’m accepting him now, feeling the press of his girthy fucking cock head as it hits the right spot. I’m soon moaning for the idiot, desperate for his mouth on my tits when he finally drops his head to give it to me, biting one nipple, then onto the other.
“Yes please, Scott. Like that! Like that!”
But Scott doesn’t do what Holly wants. He raises his face and kisses me like a messy young boyfriend, and I kiss him back like the inexperienced girl who’s been out to fuck him for months, lifting my hips up to meet his thrusts. I want to make sure he fills me up with cum for Daddy to see.
Fuck, how I want Daddy to come home.
“You’ve got a nice cunt, Holly,” Scott says. “Should’ve fucked you sooner, shouldn’t I?”
I only hope I never have to fuck the prick again, but I don’t say that, just let myself drift along in Holly’s headspace, putting a smile on my face.
“You can take it whenever you want, that’s what I want to be for you. A girl who pleases you.”
I tilt my hips to take his cock deeper, and he grunts.
“Do I mean anything to you?” I ask him, some crazy deep part of me trying to poke the beast, and I feel it working. I feel the archetypes coming out and blooming from the subconscious.
Me the weirdo, him the popular guy from the football pitch – thinking I should be lucky to fuck him.
“No, you don’t mean shit to me,” he says. “You’re a little freak, Holly, but you know what? I’ll be your boyfriend if it means I get to plough the fuck out of your pussy and your dirty little ass. Will that make you feel better about yourself? Will that make you feel up to the other girls?”
This is so fucked up.
The energies at work here are wild, as though I really am a desperate bitch craving a prick like him.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he says. “Your freaky little cunt can take my cum, and I hope you’re fucking grateful.”
“I am grateful,” I say, caught up in the whirlwind. “I’m really grateful, Scott, I swear.”
“Here you go, then. Here you fucking go.”
He fucks me so hard as he unloads, pinning me tight to the arm of the sofa as he uses me like a piece of meat. He doesn’t give a shit about my pleasure, just about filling me up, and I feel so used. Like poor little Holly really does exist here in this space, taken advantage of by an asshole. I look down at my cum-dripping pussy when he pulls out, and I feel ashamed, picturing Daddy’s face as he sees the mess Scott has made.
“Next hole,” he says and hoists my legs up higher.
“You can do it again? Already?” I ask.
