Dirty Daughter Read online

I was by law an adult, I was done with school—which had kept me from having any fun at all—and I had recently inherited a massive estate that I could do with as I pleased. All I needed now was the man—that man. The one that I was going to see now and that I would make sure was mine before long. I didn’t care what he had with my mother. He would soon see that what he could have with me was better than anything he’d imagined in his wildest dreams.

  I had been waiting for this day for years and my stomach was filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. As I walked, I couldn't help slipping into a sexual reverie—imagining what his warm hands would feel like running over my breasts, what his smooth cock would taste like. Before I knew it, I was at the steps to his office building—already feeling the hot wetness seep between my legs—and I hadn't even seen him yet.

  The dress I was wearing was not only light and flimsy, so that the air blew it around with ease, but it was also almost completely see through in the right light. No panties, no bra—just the thinnest fabric separating my nakedness from Max's eyes. I smiled at the thought of straddling his lap and burying my breasts in Max's face as he sat behind his desk and tried to be professional.

  I was not planning on giving him a chance to turn me down. It might take a couple visits to his office to get him to let down his guard—and his pants—but I knew the minute I had my lips wrapped around his cock he was going to be mine.

  I was so thrilled to see Max when he showed up at my mother's funeral. The moment I caught a glimpse of him walking in to the reception, I knew that it was all meant to be. That everything had been leading up to this. He was going to be mine, and I was going to make him forget that I had ever even had a mother.

  Max was absolutely gorgeous. He had the perfect dark allure—everything that I had ever dreamed about in a man—and everyone at the reception could see it too. None of the women there could take their eyes off of him. Every time I glanced around the room there was some woman staring or a group of women whispering. And it wasn’t just the chatter about how much I looked like my mother that I had been listening to. I had overheard them talking about him—about us. Speculating on who in this boring, uptight town he was seeing. I wanted to shout out to the entire room that he was mine. That they might as well look elsewhere because nothing would stop me from making him mine.

  I thought I was in love with him a couple years ago, but what I felt for him now was much more. My feelings for him had grown along with my body over the last two years, and by the way he looked me over with his dark eyes at the funeral, I knew that I wasn't going to have to do much in order to completely enchant him. He was a man, after all, and while I didn't have a lot of experience with the opposite sex, I knew enough to know that they couldn't resist a nice pair of tits and ass—and that is exactly what I was going to present him with today at his office.

  I stopped at a convenience store just outside the lobby of Max's office building and bought a cold bottle of water, then made my way to the elevator. Even though it was a cool day and I was wearing my skimpiest summer dress, I wanted to provide Max with a little more to look at. I wanted to make him drool the minute I walked into his office. The bottle of water was ice cold and I unbuttoned my top enough to run it over my breasts. My nipples popped up and became rock hard bumps the size of raisins. I knew that would get his attention.

  When I entered his suite, the receptionist looked me up and down disdainfully. She didn't even say anything, just stared at me as if I had no right to be there.

  "I have an appointment with Dr. Devereux." I said somewhat haughtily, barely looking at her, checking my phone instead as if she didn't even warrant a glance from me. I was not about to be judged by some secretary. If she was fucking him, that was about to be over.

  She buzzed Max using the phone on her desk, then rudely motioned for me to have a seat. I glanced at one of the overstuffed lobby chairs, but before I could sit down she hung up the phone and said curtly, "Dr. Devereux will see you now. Last door on the right."

  She didn't bother to get up and show me the way, and I was glad. I didn't need the secretary's presence taking away from my grand entrance.

  I smoothed the wrinkles out of my skirt and headed down the empty hallway. Once I rounded the corner and was out of her sight, I took a quick glance at myself using the reflection in my phone and fluffed up my hair. I arrived at the last door on the right, and looked at the hall plate that stated Max's full name and credentials in gold lettering. I discreetly pinched my nipples one last time to get them extra hard before rapping lightly on the door and then slowly turning it without waiting for an answer.

  I pushed the door open and stepped through. Max looked up casually, and when his eyes focused on me they widened and his mouth opened slightly. I stood before him, putting myself on display and letting him gaze at me a few moments before attempting to move or speak. I wanted him to take it all in—the neckline that revealed a generous amount of cleavage, my hard nipples poking through the sheer fabric, and the skirt of the dress that barely came down past my ass. I wanted him to see what could be his. He was obviously having a hard time keeping his eyes off my breasts, but by the time he made it down to my bare legs I could see that he had to force himself to look back up into my eyes.

  He sat motionless in his chair for a beat too long, taking in the sight of me before he finally found his voice. He cleared his throat, not because of a cough, but as a gesture to buy time and regain composure. I pretended not to notice and looked at him shyly, as if I were just a lost little girl coming in for a routine checkup, but inside I was flying. The feeling of power over someone like Max was just about the most intoxicating thing on the planet and I wanted it to go on forever.

  "Hello, Emily. Please have a seat.” He did that insanely sexy thing where he loosened his tie a bit and looked away from me, as if he had a million things on his mind. But I knew there was just one thing—me. I didn’t know if he knew how obvious he was with that gesture. It wasn’t obvious like boys my age were, though. Max was sexy in ways that those boys wouldn’t be able to come close to for years—if ever. I wanted to kneel down in front of him where he sat behind his desk and undo his belt right then—taking him deep into my mouth and milking his seed right out of him. I wanted to make him mine.

  "Where would you like me to sit, Dr. Devereaux?” I batted my eyelashes, looking around the room bashfully. If he only knew of all the dirty things that were going through my mind, he may not think me to be so innocent.

  He smiled slightly as he sat in his high-backed leather chair, only the top half of his body visible.

  "Wherever you're comfortable, the chair or the couch.” He gestured to the leather chair with arms in front of his desk and a brown leather couch against the wall to my left. “And please, Emily, call me Max."

  "Okay, Max," I said with a smile, then looked around the room at my options. What I really wanted to do was walk right up to him and sit on his lap, but I couldn't bring myself to be that bold yet. Maybe I'd try that on the next visit.

  I walked over to the couch and set my purse down, keeping my back to him so that I could get a chance to show him my tight, barely covered ass as I walked. I turned to walk the short distance back over to the chair and noticed his eyes following me. As I sat down in the chair I bent forward and squeezed my arms into my breasts so the cleavage was more pronounced. Then I settled against the smooth leather, feeling the cool surface on my bare pussy. As I pushed myself back I let the skirt of my dress hike up to the tops of my thighs, then crossed my legs in what appeared on the surface to be a demure gesture, but in reality was my way of letting him see up my skirt just ever so slightly—enough to make him wonder throughout our session if he really had just gotten a glimpse of my shaved, nubile pussy. I would smile throughout our session because I knew the answer to that question was yes.

  "How are you doing, Emily? I was very glad to see that you'd made an appointment to come in."

  I answered slowly, looking at the floor as I sp
oke. "I'm doing ok." I answered, trailing off. I didn't say anything else, instead waiting for him to press me for more information. I wanted to know specifically what he wanted to know about me. I wanted him to pry, and then I wanted to spill my most intimate desires to him. I wanted him to know it all.

  "But?" Max pressed. I glanced up to meet his eyes for a moment, noticing them boring into mine, and I quickly looked away.

  "But … I have to admit you were right. It is a little too quiet in that big house sometimes. I don't really have anyone here in town, well, except you, of course," I looked up and offered him a sweet smile before continuing. “And it would be nice to have some company every now and again."

  Your company, I thought to myself. I didn't want anyone else's.

  "Have you thought of getting a job? Taking some classes maybe?" Max queried.

  I laughed. "I was left a large inheritance, the thought of menial labor as entertainment doesn't interest me."

  Max pursed his lips in a little smile, as if he were amused by my response. "I see."

  "I may look into some college courses after a while, you know, after my mind settles down a little bit."

  "I think that would be great for you to do Emily. You know your mother was quite the scholar herself."

  I laughed airily. "Yes, I suppose she did very well in her day. But that was some time ago. I wouldn't say she died a scholarly woman." I hadn't meant to sound so bitter, it just slipped out. This isn't the direction I had especially wanted our conversation to go. I didn't need him getting suspicious of why I may be trash-talking my dead mother.

  Max got a more serious look on his face, but remained neutral. “I’m afraid I wouldn't know." His tone invited me to go on if I had wanted, but after a long silence he continued. “Perhaps you could take a class with a friend.”

  “I told you I don’t have many friends here.” I wanted to make sure he understood that he could come over anytime, especially any of the cold, lonely nights. "And it’s mostly the nights that seem to go on forever.”

  I lowered my eyes and shifted in my seat, letting my skirt ride up a teensy bit further and parting my legs ever so slightly while stealing a peek at him through my lashes.

  His gaze was directed to the gap in my thighs, and I was positive that he had caught an illicit glimpse of my exposed slit this time. I could feel the heat from his eyes on me, and my heart beat a little quicker. I settled into my chair again and looked up at him.

  Max averted his gaze and looked me in the face. "So, this means no boyfriends, I take it?"

  A wide grin spread across my face and I asked playfully, "Are you asking if I'm single, doctor?"

  Max smirked a little but he didn’t say a word. Instead he stared into my eyes, his dark pools making me feel smaller and weaker the longer they held mine. Almost like a rabbit caught by a wolf.

  "No, I don't have a boyfriend." I sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear and glancing away. I decided to try a new angle. "Actually, there is something that I wanted to discuss. I've never been prone to anxiety or insomnia, but lately all I can do at night is lay awake and stare at the ceiling. My heart races at every tiny little noise."

  Max looked at me sympathetically. "That's normal for a woman in your situation. The feelings of anxiety will pass, especially if you continue to see me.”

  My heart sped up when he called me a woman, and I felt my face heat up. I hoped I wasn't blushing too obviously. The fact that he was acknowledging my femininity, and not treating me like a little girl was a good sign. He was definitely acknowledging my feminine physique, letting his eyes drift to my chest whenever he thought that he could get away with it without me noticing.

  "You live alone, don't you?" I asked quizzically.

  "I do." He replied.

  "Well, what do you do to pass the nights?" I asked innocently. "Surely even a man like you longs for company sometimes?"

  "I keep myself quite busy." He replied evenly.

  "Too busy for a girlfriend?"

  "We aren't here to discuss my love life, Em—“

  "But you did say that you wanted to offer a friendly ear to me, so I am asking you a friendly question. How are we going to be friends if we don't share things with each other?" I countered.

  Max pursed his lips and gave a half smile. "You're right about that. We are friends, Emily. But that still doesn't make my love life any of your business."

  "Fine," I said pleasantly. "Just wondered, that's all. But you’re right, it’s not my business." I leaned forward to grab the water bottle that I had set down on the side table. I carefully unscrewed the cap and took a sip, letting a little bit dribble down the front of my top and down my chest, the water soaking my breast and causing the fabric to cling to my hardened nipple.

  "Oh!" I gasped as the cold water drizzled down my chest. I giggled. "I'm so graceful, aren't I?"

  “It happens to the best of us," Max smiled as he handed me a handkerchief from his drawer.

  I made a show of dabbing at my breasts, looking down carefully so that he would have a chance to stare without thinking that I could see him. When I looked up, he was definitely staring, and it was obvious to him that he had been caught. I smiled sweetly, letting him know that I didn't mind one bit.

  4

  Yes, Please (Max)

  I watched Emily as she squirmed around in the chair in front of my desk, pressing her breasts together so that they all but popped out of the top of her dress. And not to mention her nipples jutting out through that thin fabric. I knew what she was trying to do to me, but I wan’t going to play the game her way. She didn’t know who she was dealing with and if she thought she was going to play me she had another thing coming.

  She was incredibly cute—and insanely sexy—as she went through the motions of her little game, though. With her skirt pulled up and her constant lip biting. Don’t get me wrong, I was on the verge of busting through my pants behind that desk, but I wasn’t going to let her know. I’d just play along for a while and see where she was going to go with all of this, all the while imagining her legs splayed out on the arms of that chair she was sitting in.

  I wanted to ask her about her father. That was a relationship I was intrigued by, not because I wanted to know about him specifically, but because I wanted to know if he’d ever touched her. I’d had a lot of experience with girls whose fathers or older male relatives had sexually abused them. I knew generally what that type of relationship resulted in for the girls later in life. I wanted to know about the relationship from her perspective, especially since she fit the mold of an abused child.

  Most of the girls I had been involved with had serious daddy issues that stemmed from anything from inappropriate behavior from an older male family member to full-on molestation or rape. I wanted to help these girls. I’d always seen myself as a guide to them—helping them with their feelings and molding them into women that experienced their sexual natures as fully as they could. But it didn’t always work out the way I wanted it to. Not in the end, anyway.

  I could see glimpses of those types of needs every time she looked up and her eyes lingered on mine. She wanted me to teach her and tell her what to do. She wanted the approval that she had never gotten from her father, or her mother for that matter.

  I knew that Amelia was jealous of her own daughter. And I knew that’s why she sent Emily away to a private school. I knew that woman was incredibly insecure and that she was terrified that her daughter would come between us. But there was so much more going on in our relationship that I couldn’t say no to her. She was the only woman I’d ever loved, but she was also the only woman I’d been with who called the shots—some of them, anyway. But I could see that it would be so different with Emily.

  “Roll over onto your belly,” I commanded. She rolled over, pushing her plump ass up in the air for me. I spit into my hand and rubbed it over my cock, then plunged into her hot, waiting pussy. She mewed and squirmed as I fucked her, her face buried in the pillows. I paused a mo
ment, hearing rustling outside the door. My eyes rose and there she was—standing in the doorway—her slight frame barely illuminated from the dim light coming from the hall. Her soft white nightgown clung to her wispy body, and her hair hung partially over her eyes. She was so beautiful and I wanted her desperately.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it and focus. I adjusted my tie and ran my hand through my hair, bringing myself back to reality. My senses were overwhelmed, and now was not the time to turn into a blithering idiot. I needed to remain in charge of this situation. Emily had just waltzed through my door—practically fucking naked—and I had to keep my wits about me.

  She was wandering around my office, looking for a place to put her bag, glancing at the furniture and pretending she was trying to figure out where to sit—and she was driving me insane. She was babbling about the weather being a little chillier than she had anticipated, but she didn't need to say any of that. The way her pert little nipples were standing on end made it obvious. I had tuned out her words—every ounce of my energy focused on her body—and the sight of her movements and the way her dress just barely covered her sent my mind spinning out of control. My thoughts were running rampant with every sexual position imaginable.

  When she finally settled into her seat in front of me, I had a clear view of what was underneath that flimsy skirt of hers, and it wasn't covered up. It was smooth, and I could clearly see her slit cutting through her pale skin. The sight made my mouth water.

  Thank god I was sitting at my desk. My cock was hard as a rock and wasn't backing down anytime soon. I was going to be bound to my chair for some time if she didn't quit flashing me her pussy and pushing her luscious tits together like that.

  There was no doubt she was toying with me, I'm not naive. What she was doing now was fine, but we were going to continue this on my timeline. If she wanted to be fucked, she was going to be fucked. Hard. But not until I had a little bit more of a handle on her—mentally and physically.