9 comments/ 27834 views/ 4 favorites April's Awakening By: The Eclipse Ever since her sexuality had awakened a number of years ago, April had realized she was different. As an early bloomer, she had been aware of many things before her friends. But the number one thing that she became aware of was that this new feeling felt good. While her body changed, she also realized something else: girls who acted on these types of feelings were called sluts. April knew that it was an unfair label, since guys who acted the same way were thought to be normal. And so, April learned that when her urges were close to getting the better of her, it was time to be discrete. By the time she was a college student, her discretion was well practiced. At 21, she knew she was a knockout: a short bob of deep brown hair, 5'6" tall, a thin body, and 36D breasts that always, and she knew always, attracted attention from guys and some girls too. It was a Wednesday night when she told her roommate Kaye that she had a date. As April finished dressing in tight black pants that made her pretty good butt look great, a red sleeveless button-down shirt that only accentuated her large breasts, and a black lace bra and matching thong, she chatted with her roomie about sex. Spraying sweet, fruity perfume twice on her neck and once on her cleavage, it crossed her mind that it was a pity that Kaye was not more adventurous... but April sighed and remembered that she would have her fun tonight nonetheless. She drove 35 minutes north, to a large hotel that mostly attracted a business crowd. She went straight to the bar, sat, and ordered a rum and coke. She smiled as she took the first sip: she felt eyes on her, and knew that the men that were staring at her wondered if she was alone. April's rule was a simple one. Survival of the fittest, or, to put it another way, the first descent one who came up to her would get her. She shivered at herself and smiled, happy to be a closet slut. She ordered another rum and coke and waited. It took 15 minutes. He came up, bought another beer, and introduced himself as Duane. April judged him to be in his early fifties. He looked reasonably fit, with black hair that had a touch of gray. She assumed that he had done this sort of thing before, because a few minutes into their chatting her drink was empty, and he bought her another... and another, and another. With each drink, April let herself be more flirty, letting him know just what kind of girl she was. After she drained her fifth drink, she leaned into him. "I need to go to the little girl's room," she whispered. Duane nodded, wanting to be pleasant to this buxom young thing. April continued. "When I come out, I want you to be in your room. I'll come... tell me where." He told her, and she stood, pausing for a moment, letting him see her ass. Then she walked away. In the bathroom, she double checked how she looked. Though looking at herself with drunken eyes, April knew that she looked completely fuckable. She opened her purse, looked for longer than it would have taken a sober girl, then found what she was looking for. Opening the container, April popped a birth control pill. Just in case, she thought to herself with a smile. She winked at herself in the mirror, and saw that her nipples were hard. She walked out of the bathroom and realized that she would have to cross the lobby to get to the elevators. Blushing, knowing that some would see the points on her shirt, and knowing that others might recognize her from other trips to the hotel, she made her way to the elevators, and stumbled to Duane's room. She knocked softly and said, "It's April." A voice from inside told her it was open, and inside she went. The lights were low, and Duane was sitting by the window. He was wearing a bathrobe and holding a drink in his hand. "Come here," he said firmly. She closed the door behind her and put her hand on her hip, trying to look cute. "And if I don't?" she asked with a smile. She was pretty sure he was naked beneath the robe, and she was definitely sure that she wanted to stay in control of this night, and this was where she would set the tempo. He merely stared at her, and for the first time, April realized that her "I'm a prick tease and you want me more than I want you" routine wasn't working on him. She put her purse down on the floor and walked to him. She felt out of place, standing in front of him silently. She looked at him, as his eyes crawled all over her. Suddenly he said, "You have fantastic breasts. What are you, a 36D?" She nodded, then added, "Yes... I am." "Thought so. My daughter Susan is," and he took a drink, leaving April to wonder what exactly--"about your age, cutie pie." He paused, a big grin upon his face. He knew April was wondering more about him, now that she knew he had a daughter. Was he divorced? Married? She had assumed she had slept with married guys when she did these little hotel encounters before, but always told herself she was never sure. But now, it was almost like he was baiting her. Duane took another drink and spoke again. "Take off your clothes. Slowly." For a moment, April thought about simply turning around and walking out. But then the excited energy deep inside herself reminded her that she was here to use a man, and if he was going to use her too, so be it. She unbuttoned her red sleeveless shirt, going fast at first, then slowing down for him. When she pulled the shirt open, she had calmed down, in part because of the carnal way he was staring at her breasts. She smiled and moved her hands to the waist of her pants. "Nuh-uh," he said chastizingly. "The bra first, big girl. I want to see them now." Of course she complied. She reached behind herself, her breasts lifting up, and unlatched the black lace bra. Normally, she would have paused, letting the bra cover herself for another moment of anticipation. But she wanted to do as the man said, and so she simply lowered her arms and took the bra off. Duane stared at her big, hard, light brown nipples for a moment and took another drink, saying "Not too much sag for a girl your age. Continue." April blushed. She worried about sag, but didn't think it was that much of an effect yet. Was she really so old? She continued to undress, softly pushing her tight black pants down to her knees. "Stop," said Duane. "Turn around." Her legs still in her pants, April slowly shuffled around, until her thong-covered butt was facing the man in his fifties. "Mmmm," she heard him sound in anticipation. "Now THAT looks like an ass that's 21. Bend over a little." Blushing at what seemed to be a back-handed compliment, she complied, pushing her butt out to show it off. Suddenly, she felt the sting of his hand from a fairly hard spank. She cooed happily, even though she was now questioning him even more. "Now... now you can take that thong off, little girl." She assumed he wanted to see something else, so she made sure that after lowering her thong, she bent over, letting her fully shaved pussy peek out at him. She was sure that Duane had seen it, but she didn't hear any reaction from him. So she stood up and faced him. His eyes were set on hers. "Shaved, huh? I wonder when that became so popular with you girls." That was now the third reference he had made to girls her age... and girls his daughter's age. It made April wonder.... With a congenial smile on her face, she replied, "Well, you guys sure seem to enjoy it." "Cutie pie, there's something else that we guys enjoy." She knew what he was asking for... she knew what he wanted. April wasn't here to get on her knees; she had come to find a horny older guy and to fuck him. She was here to get pleasure, to use a man, not to stand here naked as he sneered up at her. But somehow she felt, deep inside herself, that he saw her the way she really was... that he saw the young woman who was a slut and denied it. She looked to the floor, knowing that it was there that he wanted her. She complied and fell to her knees, knowing what was coming next. He opened his robe, and she was right; he was naked beneath. She didn't need to be told what was expected of her; April simply pushed her short brown hair behind her ears and leaned forward, taking his hard cock into her hand. His pubic hair was very short, and it looked as though he had shaved his shaft and balls. In short, this was someone who gave no excuses when he wanted a blow job. Opening her lips, April wondered who the last girl was who put her mouth onto Duane's cock. She was an old pro when it came to sucking a dick. She made her lips a semi-tight O and started to slowly bob her head up and down. She made her tongue wide and ran it back and forth over the soft underside of his penis, making him groan. She did it faster, and when he groaned again, April started to feel good about herself. She was making him feel good, and she was happy. Normally she hated it when a guy put his hand on her head during oral sex, but when Duane did it, April didn't mind at all. At first it was there stroking her hair as she moved her head up and down, making her lips tighter. Then she became aware of the increasing pressure on her head, and realized that he wanted more of his cock in her mouth. She complied, pushing down. His balls, feeling warm and loose, pressed against her chin. It felt degrading and wonderful. It felt like just the sort of thing a slut would do. April then started to go faster, trying to anticipate his wants. She took a hand and lovingly ran her fingers across his balls, then let her fingers settle around his penis. Making a tight ring around the base, she moved her hand in unison with her lips. She curled her tongue, letting the tip taste where his precum was coming out, letting the rest of her wet, soft tongue press firmly onto his sensitive underside. She was surprised by how good he tasted: his penis, his precum, everything. A thought crossed her mind and she shivered: she couldn't wait to feel his cock explode in her mouth, letting her taste his cum. As though reading her mind, Duane spoke up, his voice pleasant but firm. "I am going to cum on your face in a minute, little girl." April only had one rule, one that she had kept since a very bad experience in high school: no one can cum on her face. She had long ago accepted that guys had a thing about cumming on a girl, and she was used to them wanting to cum on her big tits, or her tummy, or sometimes even her ass. But on her face? It was out of the question. April knew from experience that with his cock in her mouth, she had him in the palm of her hand. All she had to do was stop the blow job, tell him no, and wait for him to agree, with the implication being that the longer he made an issue out of it, the longer he wasn't getting her wonderful mouth on his cock. That's it, she said to herself. Just stop and tell him no. She nodded her head yes, feeling shame burn deep in her belly. Why had she just done that? Why did she feel so powerless? She didn't have time to wonder about it: his cock was starting to swell in her mouth, and she knew he was close. His hand, now on her cheek, guided her head back; she kept her lips tight, making a loud slurping, slutty sound as his cock left her mouth. She closed her eyes, getting ready. "No," he said, tapping a finger on the side of her head in an annoyed fashion. "Eyes open until it starts." April opened her eyes, seeing that his penis was two inches from her nose. His hand was around it as he jerked himself off. She felt two emotions. First, disappointment that he wasn't going to cum in her mouth; and second, that he was making her be degraded like this. Didn't he know that said something about a girl who let cum get on her face? He knew, but he simply didn't care. Duane groaned, and April saw his penis move and she shut her eyes. There was a split-second pause in the darkness, then she felt the hit of a warm glob of cum on her right cheek, then another on her forehead above her right eye, then a third weak one on her chin... she felt what surely was his penis touch her chin, and felt a bit more fluid leak out and slowly move down her chin and onto her neck She heard him sigh, felt his hand move away, and she knew he was done. She sat there for a moment, feeling the warm cum ooze down her face and neck. And she knew he was watching her, marveling at the sight. "Here," he said, and suddenly he was cleaning her face with a lace cloth. Well, not her face; he was cleaning her eyes so that she could open them. She slowly opened her eyelids and looked up at his smiling, satisfied face. "That was amazing," a voice said, and April realized that it was hers. He patted her on the head and told her to go clean up in the bathroom. She did, closing the door. In the ultra-bright light, her naked body, cum-covered face, and red knees looked marred but still beautiful. April didn't care; she wanted to get clean and leave. She ran hot water onto a face cloth and spent a few minutes scrubbing. Then, in the other room, she heard a cell phone ring and assumed it was his. After a few rings, he answered it and started to talk to the person on the other end. She heard his voice coming closer to the bathroom door, and he asked the person on the phone to hang on. "April," he said, "I've got to see a client upstairs. I'll be back in twenty minutes." Fat chance, she thought, wanting to leave and happy that her exit would be while he was gone. She heard the door to the hall close, and stepped out into the bedroom. Her clothes had been lovingly laid out on the bed: shirt, pants, and bra. It took her a split second to realize that her thong was gone. She looked around for it, but it was simply missing, and probably he had it. She reached for her bra, and saw that underneath it was a note. "April," it read, "I assume you're leaving for tonight. Write down you phone number and I'll call next time I'm in town. Duane." The note was not a request. Disgusted with herself, she dressed in a hurry. The walked halfway to the door and picked up her purse. Taking out a pen, she returned to the note, left her number, and decided that it was time to go home. ___________________________ Thanks to JayneC who was a great editor for this story! Readers may feel free to contact me at the address in my profile. April's Awakening Ch. 02 Sometimes, it can be pretty easy to put a bad decision behind you. That's what April decided when she woke up the next morning. At 21, she had had plenty of years being an absolute knockout; with a short bob of deep brown hair, being 5'6", thin, and with an impressive 36D chest, she was used to men fawning over her. She was, in short, used to getting what she wanted from a man. It was that spirit that had led her to a hotel bar far enough from her college that she could find some older businessman to give her an anonymous fuck. It was one of her dirty pleasures in life--well, one of them anyway. She would simply go there, wait for the first descent guy to hit on her, then she would let him take her upstairs. That's how it had started with Duane, but it hadn't ended that way. He took her upstairs, but didn't act like a nervous married man in his fifties who was lucky to fuck a college girl. He stared at her, seeing deep inside her. He told her things, not asked them. April was used to having experienced men use their fingers, tongues, and dicks on her for her pleasure, but he had told her to get on her knees, and she had. He told her to suck, and she did. And, even though she had a firm rule against it, he had told her he would cum on her face, and he did. That night, as April drove home, still aware of the smell on her cheeks despite her scrubbing, she wondered why she had left him her cell phone number. She went to bed feeling like a dirty, cheap whore, and wondered why she had let herself be used like that. And so, the next morning, she decided to put the bad decision behind herself. She went to the gym before classes, working especially hard to keep her toned butt looking perfect. That night, she went to a club with her roommate Kaye. Surprisingly, it was Kaye who left early with a guy; April, instead, stayed and danced, making sure to tease as many guys her own age as she could. She wouldn't let herself be used again. It was like that for much of the next week: April had a newfound sense of empowerment and a burning desire to make men pay for what Duane had done to her. She flirted with guys then disappeared and impressed her friends by being a big bitch to anyone who got in her way. She was sure that she had forgotten her mistake. Then one day after a particularly boring math class, she turned on her cell phone and saw that a message was waiting for her. She listened: "April, this is Duane. I will be at the hotel two nights from now. You will meet me in the bar at 8 o'clock. Dress like the girl I know you to be." She laughed and deleted the message, deciding to go dancing that night, just to spite him. But as the days went on, she felt the burning inside her start to increase. The burning wanted her to do as she was told, to stop making decisions that she shouldn't. She had accepted the fact that she was going to see him again when she was shaving her pussy in the shower. April had ached to touch it, to scrap all plans, go back to her room hoping that Kaye would be gone, and to spend the night naked on her bed with her vibrator buried deep inside. That was when April realized that she hadn't had an orgasm since meeting him, and that perhaps tonight he would let her feel pleasure. And so, it was almost 7 o'clock when she was pulling up her pink low-rise thong, getting ready to meet Duane at the hotel bar. "Ooh, looking hot baby!" a voice giggled. It was Kaye; in the last week or so, she annoyingly had been giving April less privacy. Though she was many things, it simply made April feel uncomfortable being watched by another girl as she dressed. "Thanks Kaye," April responded sweetly as she reached for her bra. The anticipation for the night had made her nipples very hard, and she wanted to cover up out of embarrassment. "...You hitting the clubs tonight?" April mentally sighed. Kaye was becoming a hanger-on as of late. And it went without saying that when a girl is meeting an older man simply because he ordered her to, hangers-on only complicate matters. "Nope, just meeting up with someone, that's all." She then reached for her pair of tight tan pants with the zipper in the back. She knew Duane told her to dress like the girl he knew her to be; he wanted something that was almost slutty. But with Kaye watching, April didn't want her roommate thinking tonight's adventures did include a trip to a club after all. Completing her attire with a pink v-neck top and a necklace, both of which brought attention to her soft, can't-miss cleavage, April told her roommate she'd be back late and left. Watching her go, Kaye wondered why April looked like meeting up with this mystery man was a chore. It was 7:45 when April pulled into the hotel parking lot. She sat there for a moment, realizing that this was her last chance to walk away. But she simply couldn't. As embarrassing as it was to admit, she wanted to be used by him. Her body was aching for it--as evidenced by her thong which was already damp. April desperately hoped that he would allow her pleasure tonight; on their first meeting, she had pleasured him, and had left with only the slight smell of his cum on her face. She shook at the thought that he might take her tonight, that he might actually spread her legs, look at her hairless, wet pussy, and decide to fuck her. To cum in her. With that, she realized she had to get inside. Pausing, she took her birth control pill as she had every night since she was 15 and prayed for pleasure. Walking into the bar of the large hotel, she saw that it the usual clientele of the hotel: businessmen. For months, she had secretly been coming here to use me. But tonight it was different. She sat, slowly sipping rum and coke, for over an hour. Some men came up to her, hitting on her, but she sweetly shot each one down, wondering when Duane would come. Her anticipation had faded and she started to wonder why she was sitting there, waiting for some older man who treated her poorly. Then suddenly, "April?" She looked up and saw that it was the bartender who was addressing her. She nodded, and he continued. "Your father just phoned down--"April was shocked. Her father? He had been gone for ages. "--from room 818. He'd like you back up there right away." It took April a moment, then she realized that it must be Duane. She looked around; had he been watching her? How did he know she was there? April blushed, paid her bill, and walked to the lobby elevator. Once inside, she paused, then committed herself and sent the car up to the 8th floor. As the car rose, she felt the sarcastic, free-thinking, independent woman fading away. As the doors opened, she could feel her inner core surging through: she was an obedient girl, and very much looking forward to seeing Duane. She walked to the door, smoothed her clothes, and knocked. The door opened, and there he was, with no emotion on his face. He smiled a bit, saying, "Hello, my dear," and he leaned forward. In the doorway, he kissed her, softly and familiarly. She was a bit shocked, but of course allowed it. "Come in," he said, and then she was in the room. It was a typical hotel room: two beds, neat, and looking a bit lived-in. April took a breath and started to feel comfortable. She turned, looking at Duane as he crossed the room. With a knowing smile on her face, she said, "So, my father is in room 818, huh?" He grinned back, showing playfulness... and a dark side. He sat in a chair; instinctively, April knew to remain standing. He looked over her body, and April started to blush, knowing that she had worn too much all along. Yet all he said to her was, "Look in the mirror." She turned and faced the dresser and mirror. She liked the way she looked, the pink in her top suggesting girlish innocence, and her cleavage, accented by the necklace, suggesting that she was quite the woman. She liked the way her tan pants hugged her legs tightly, how when she faced men their eyes would drift to the curve of her hips and not-quite-visible mound between her legs, made tantalizing because these pants zipped up in the back. "Is this how the girl I know you to be dresses when she's coming to see me?" April saw her opportunity. Say yes, she thought. Respectfully remind him that she is a worldly woman, and that how she was dressed showed off a killer body. But instead she put her head down and softly replied, "No." Silence. He didn't agree and he didn't disagree. April could not turn her head; she simply continued to stare at herself. Her face was a bit flushed from embarrassment, and she saw that her nipples were hardening. She heard him stand, walk past her, and into the bathroom. She stood motionless as, through the closed door, she heard him relieve himself. Then the door opened and she heard him chuckle and say to himself, "Remarkable." She smiled a bit, happy with herself. Then Duane spoke again. "I will shower now. I want you to strip and stand in the corner near the windows, facing in, until I tell you otherwise. This is how disobedient girls start to get punished." And with that, the bathroom door was closed again. April felt confused and pressed down the urge to start to cry. Why was he doing this? Even if she wasn't going to get pleasure tonight, couldn't he just tell her to get on her knees and use her mouth again? She walked near the corner, pulled off her top, and put it on the desk. She had dressed so thoughtfully, and it had disappointed him. Angrily, she unzipped her pants, unsnapped her bra, and quickly was standing there in her delicate, tiny, pink thong. That was when she truly remembered why she was there. She could feel how warm and moist her thong was, and lust washed over her body. Thumbing the waistband, she pulled her thong down, and then was beautifully naked. Neatly adding her thong to the pile, she sighed, attempted to put on a happy face, and faced the corner. Unsure how close to get, she inched closer until her nose was almost touching the wallpaper. She stood there two minutes... five minutes... at about seven minutes the shower stopped, but the door did not open... and after the ten minutes that felt like an eternity, she heard him reenter the room. She heard him walking, putting things away, and she felt ignored. "Back to the mirror, about a foot from the dresser," he said out of the blue. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she quickly complied, feeling her breasts jiggle as she moved fast. "Put your palms on the dresser." This, April realized, required her to bend over. He was behind her now, and would see everything. Slowly, she did as she was told, feeling the air touch her moist, hairless pussy. "Mmmm," Duane sounded approvingly. "I love seeing those titties of yours hang. They're like udders." She blushed, not sure if that last word was a compliment or not. Was she too heavy? Was her chest too saggy? How could any of that be; she was 21, thin, and fit. "April, look at me," he commanded. She raised her eyes and saw him in the mirror, behind her. He was naked, half aroused, and she thought perhaps he was holding something in his right hand, though she couldn't be sure because her body got in the way. "How did you feel when the bartender told you your daddy wanted you upstairs?" "I felt good... and relieved. I thought you weren't coming." His hand softly started to caress her naked behind. "And how did you feel standing in the corner, April?" She paused, unsure how to describe her feelings. "I was... being punished. And I deserved the punishment." Silence, and the caressing continued. Then April realized she hadn't answered the question, and hastily added, "I felt like I was getting what I deserved." With that, he moved to her side, his hand sliding from her butt to her hanging left breast. She closed her eyes for a moment, cherishing the feel of his rough hand on her soft skin. But when she opened her eyes, she saw in the reflection what was in his right hand: a leather belt. Duane squeezed her breast, and she squirmed. "How should you have dressed tonight?" She paused, and before she knew it, SMACK, she felt the unmistakable sting of the belt on her ass. Duane was impressed; she hardly jumped, instead simply lowering her head to deal with the pain. "I should have dressed like a slut," April said simply. "And how is that?" "Well," she quickly answered, "a short skirt, halter top, heels." SMACK came the belt. She took a breath in--it hurt more that time. Duane asked simply, "Panties?" The last of her will broken, she whispered, "No panties." SMACK, then "What did my girl say? Speak up!" "No panties! No panties!" Duane chuckled softly and started to gingerly rub her hurting behind. "You're learning, young lady... you're learning." April felt him moving behind her, and she took in a breath of anticipation. He was rubbing her ass with two hands now. "Oh, it's so red..." he said, almost sadly. "I take no joy in punishing you... but I had to." Spreading her cheeks, he said a bit sneeringly, "It must be my fatherly side." April needed to have him inside her. Humiliated, she lowered her head again, ready and willing to play his game. "I hardly knew my father... he left us." She was rewarded with a quick finger running down her wet pussy; she moaned and continued. "I feel safe with you... protected..." He leaned into her, his cock against her butt. His hands came to her hanging breasts, feeling them, squeezing them. "Maybe you could be it," she added softly. She was no longer playing: she meant it. His hands were now on her round hips, grabbing them sharply. There was one more point of no return, and she didn't care. In a soft, new voice she said, "You could be my daddy." With that, Duane thrust into her. April moaned, her body pushed forward onto the dresser, her breasts hitting the drawers. Squeezing her hips very hard, he pushed into her over and over, her whole body shaking each time. Then he slowed a bit, falling into a comfortable rhythm. April closed her eyes, bit her lip, and lowered her head, savoring the feel of this married, middle-aged man obscenely taking her from behind. It barely registered that he was grabbing a handful of her short brown hair when she felt her head being pulled, snapping up. "You will watch me while I fuck you, girlie," Duane said through gritted teeth. Her response could be only one thing: "Yes, Daddy." She watched the anger leave his face, replaced by lust. He looked so powerful, standing there behind her, giving her pleasure. Such pleasure it was, and she was so appreciative for it. He started to play with her butt cheeks again, squeezing at first, then spreading them. April could feel him getting closer to orgasm, and she wondered if it was from seeing--and it must have been, because he started to lazily run his thumb across her asshole. She pushed back against his thrusts, cooing "Yesssss," but he would go there another time. She felt him starting to swell inside her, and she could feel her own orgasm building. He pulled at her hair again, bringing her as close as she could be. "C-cum... deep in me..." she moaned. His cock got big in her, shooting warmth, and she came too, hard and wet, screeching, "Daddddddy!" They held still for a few moments, letting the pleasure fade. She felt him filling her less, then Duane was backing away. In the mirror, she saw him sit on the bed, out of breath. She did not move, waiting for instructions. He made her wait, preferring to watch her bent over, her pussy open, some of his cum slowly oozing out of her. Then, "Come sit, April," she was told simply. She stood, walked to him, and sat on the floor at his feet. She looked up at him, her eyes big and filled with admiration. What she had said earlier was true: she never really had known her real father. Was this what it felt like, to be so protected and appreciated by a man? Duane started to stroke her hair softly, lovingly. "You're such a pretty girl." She wanted to say something that could convey her emotions. But sitting there, naked at his feet, sated and content, she could only say one thing. "Thank you, Daddy."