Page 8 of Daddy's Pretty Baby

“Trainable”? What did that mean? I was hardly a dancing bear learning to ride a bicycle, but the warning voice in my head rang out again. Because I actually was a dancing bear for the next three months, Funky the Monkey or Riddles the Clown. Right.

So I forced another smile.

“At your service, Mr. Lancaster,” I tittered lightly. “Melly Carlson at your service.”

“That’s what I like,” he rumbled approvingly. “Now before we talk about the details of your job, what kind of swimsuit is this?” he frowned. “Who bought you this bikini?”

I blushed then, a full-body pink staining me from hairline to toes.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s small,” I stuttered. “I haven’t had a chance to go to the mall yet and I um, kind of outgrew this one, I’ll get another one as soon as possible,” I promised, hands flying to my breasts and then my cunt, futilely trying to shield them. But it only made things worse because the fluttery movements attracted attention to my privates, like butterflies dancing.

“Naw, it’s not that,” Mr. Lancaster rumbled again, blue eyes magnetic on my curves, making me go hot as sparks pulsed in my secret spot. “It’s just that little girls don’t need to wear their tops to the pool. Little girls are undeveloped still so they can go swimming in just their bottoms,” he admonished me.

If I was pink before, now I was a full-blown red. What the hell was he talking about? I was no little girl, I was twenty years old, into the double digits by a decade. And even if the term “little girl” was a figure of speech, I wasn’t “little” by a long shot. Couldn’t he see my huge Double Ds? Couldn’t he see how they leaked from the bottoms, tops and sides of my bikini, how the thin fabric was just barely holding in the lush curves, covering my areola and not much else? Was he blind?

But Mr. Lancaster continued like nothing was wrong.

“Little girls don’t need their tops,” he admonished again. “Let Daddy help you take it off.”

And I was perfectly still, barely breathing as he leaned forwards, those huge, sensual hands slowly pulling on the string tie of my bikini top. Oh my god, oh my god, was this really happening? Was my employer literally undressing me on my first day of work, forcing me to go topless as I lounged by his pool? Oh my god, he about to get a full view of my tits, the pendulous swells of cream, the pink areola that begged to be kissed.

And yes, it happened. I could hardly breathe, still as a trembling doe as the alpha male unveiled me, the tiny swaths of fabric falling to my lap as his agile fingers undid the strings. And oh shit, but my breasts were in fine form. Mountainous, rising and falling softly with each breath, they were huge sacks of cream with deep pink nipples that jutted like rocks, pointing straight at alpha male.

“What a beautiful little girl,” he rumbled appreciatively, that blue gaze glued to my curves. “You’re certainly a pretty baby.”

And oh shit, but a warm, sensuous fluid gushed between my thighs then. Because I couldn’t help it, this man gave new meaning to the word “naughty.” Even though it was so wrong, so taboo, I felt alive under his gaze, I wanted this man’s eyes on me, I wanted him to stroke my skin, fondle my tits, to kiss my nipples and lick my cunt.

My face flamed then, tingles shooting out to my fingers and toes like all my nerves had gone haywire at the same time. Because how could I even be having these feelings? I didn’t know this guy for one, we’d literally met five minutes ago. For another, Mr. Lancaster was my employer, and there was no better way to get myself fired than illicit nookie with the boss. And third, what the hell, what the hell? I’m a virgin, I’ve never been touched before and all of a sudden dirty scenarios were running through my head like a porn reel on repeat.

But the visuals were so insanely vivid and titillating that I gave in, moaning slightly, my eyes glued to his, unconsciously pushing my chest forwards, offering my tits to the big man. Yes, I wanted Mr. Lancaster’s face buried there, I wanted him to lick my nipples, to pinch the hard nubs of pink as his dick nudged my slick cunt down below. I wanted him to push into me, to make my pussy convulse, transforming me into a woman as I moaned lustily, thrashing and spasming, my body belonging only to him.

And I moaned involuntarily then, lips parted slightly, eyes pleading with an unspoken message. What had happened to the old Melissa? Instead of the shy, inexperienced girl I actually was, the one with zero experience, instead I was acting the naughty Lolita, letting him undress me, unconsciously begging him to fuck my nubile body. And like in a dream, my hand crept between my thighs and did the unthinkable. One finger hooked into the crotch of the bikini bottoms and swept the fabric to the side, baring my pink pussy, the folds glistening and engorged.

“Daddy have a taste?” I mewled, squirming a bit so he could get a full view of my cunt, already ready to play. “Daddy want to lick?”

Mr. Lancaster merely chuckled then, although his crotch jerked, followed by a wet spot forming on the dark fabric. Holy shit, was that cum? Had the alpha male just spurted slightly, and sperm was now staining those trousers, darkening the material? Holy shit, had innocent Melly done that to the alpha male?

But evidently, the big man wanted more before getting down. Instead of burying his face in my pussy, treating himself to a long lick of female juice, his voice rang out.

“Tilt your hips up, baby girl. Tilt your hips up even more so that I can see everything.”

See everything? What in the world did he mean? But I did as ordered. I leaned back onto the lounger and slowly brought my knees up to my chest, rolling my hips so that my entire ass practically lifted off the cushions, floating like a giant orb of white.

“Like this Daddy?” I whispered, eyes glued to his. “You mean like this?”

And Robert’s gaze was all over my exposed flesh, the huge, chunky thighs, the giant white ass, and the pulsing pink slit that begged for his mouth.

“That’s it,” he said smoothly, like it was no big deal, although dark streaks stained his cheekbones. “Daddy’s gonna look at everything you have.”

And with that, one big hand reached forward and pulled my bikini bottoms all the way to the side so that they bisected a butt cheek, baring my slit from top to bottom plus the brown pucker of my asshole.

“Oh god!” I squealed, still balled up tightly. “Oh god, Daddy you’re looking at everything!” I know what anal is, I know guys even kiss you down there sometimes, but still, it was so dirty and naughty. It was embarrassing to be caught like this, my ankles almost hooked over my ears as I showed him not just my pussy, but my brown asshole. And I had nowhere to hide, there was nowhere to go. I couldn’t bury my face in pillows or avert my gaze from the show. I was open to the big man, spread out like a feast, and oh fuck, but both my pussy hole and asshole winked at him then, begging to be touched.

But Mr. Lancaster merely growled and admonished me once more.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he ground out. “Especially here,” he said, resting one big finger against my pussy hole, “and here,” he continued, another big finger lightly pressing my asshole. “All of this is beautiful, there isn’t any part of you that isn’t.”

And I almost moaned with delirium then. No man has ever touched my pussy, much less my ass. Even I’ve never touched my bottom, it always seemed so dirty, so off-limits, so to suddenly have a gorgeous man see everything, feel everything, drove me over the edge.

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