“Mr. Scott, you’re home,” Mary Anne said, as she walked down the stairs. She was buttoning her blouse, not bothered in the least about why she needed to button her blouse while she was babysitting little Reggie. “I just put little Reggie down for his nap. It’s always so fun babysitting for you—I mean, him.”
Mr. Scott looked at her closely. She met his gaze, then quickly looked away, blushing. He was used to her shyness (at least when she was in her normal persona), but there was something else, something bothering her.
“Mary Anne, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the matter? I feel like I’ve gotten to know you since you’ve been babysitting little Reggie, and I can’t help noticing that you seem to be bothered by something today.” He considered putting her back under to find out, but didn’t want to overreact. He had never had a problem with his hypnotic subjects, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“It—it’s nothing,” the cute brunette said. “I mean, it isn’t anything to do with you or your son. It’s just Cokie Masters.”
The tone she used when she said the name spoke volumes. “What is a Cokie Masters?”
Mary Anne giggled, looking up at the older man. “Cokie Masters is a girl—although sometimes I think she’s more like a she-devil. She has a thing for the Baby-Sitters Club, and she and her entourage do everything they can to make us look foolish and prove they’re better than us. That’s all right, I don’t know how many times Kristy has turned one of their pranks around and made them look foolish. It’s just…”
The normally shy, good-natured girl looked angry. He couldn’t remember Mary Anne ever looking angry. “It’s just what, Mary Anne? C’mon, you can tell me.”
“She has decided that I’m not right for Logan Bruno, my boyfriend, and she is determined to split us up. And she’s prettier than I am, and rich, and her daddy buys her the best clothes, and I just can’t compete with that.” She looked like she was about to cry.
Now, Mr. Scott had no qualms about turning Mary Anne into his personal fucktoy, and he had left her walking bowlegged on several occasions. But she’d enjoyed it thoroughly, and he wouldn’t abide some other slut making one of his sluts cry.
“I doubt that she’s prettier than you, and from what you’ve said of Logan, I doubt that he’s going to be swayed by her act.” She smiled at Mr. Rogers.
“I know, I trust Logan, but I’d still like to see Cokie taken down a peg or two.” She giggled.
He paid her for her babysitting, then watched as she walked down the steps of the porch and away from his house.
Stonybrook Country Club was exclusive, as most country clubs are, and only the richest people in Stonybrook were members. That meant, of course, that Kent Masters, Cokie’s father, was a member. Actually, he was a member of the board at the club. Reginald Scott was also a member. He knew several other members, and occasionally played golf with some them. He didn’t know Kent Masters, but after few discreet inquiries, he was able to identify him.
Reginald Scott came out of the club as Masters was waiting for the valet to bring his car around. As he stood at the curb alone, Reginald walked up behind him.
“Excuse me, but you are Kent Masters aren’t you?” he said, to get the man’s attention.
Kent Masters was a tall, distinguished-looking man in his thirties. He turned to look at Reginald. “Yes, do I know you?”
Reginald offered his hand and Masters shook it. “No, we haven’t met. I’m Reginald Scott; I live on Knob Hill here in Stonybrook. I apologize for being so bold, but I worked as a consultant for James Goldstein, and he spoke very highly of you. He said you and your investment firm made him a lot of money.”
Masters chuckled. “James Goldstein, yes, I’d say we made him a lot of money. What kind of consulting do you do, Mr. Scott?”
“Personnel management, Human Relations, that sort of thing. You may remember Goldstein’s company had a sexual harassment lawsuit hanging over their heads a few years ago. I helped them out with that.”
“Ah,” Masters said. He vaguely remembered the lawsuit. “They settled out of court didn’t they? As I recall, the rumor was that the poor girl that filed the suit got practically nothing.”
Mr. Scott had slipped the valet some money to make sure he had time alone with Masters, but he didn’t want to push it. “Well, I can’t really talk about that—confidentiality agreement, I’m sure you understand. Goldstein gave me something in appreciation, a thing of beauty. Take a look.”
He took a pocket watch out of his pocket, and lifted it so that the other man could see it. As Masters looked at it appreciatively, Reginald lifted it so that it caught the sunlight. He set it spinning slightly. “That’s it, Kent—it’s all right if I call you Kent, isn’t it?”
The man continued staring at the watch, nodding without saying anything.
“Kent, I want you to relax. Look at nothing else but the pocket watch, hear nothing but my voice. As you listen to my voice, it will take up your whole world.”
He snapped his fingers, and the man closed his eyes. “Now, Kent, I need you to open your eyes, and stand up straight, as if we were having a normal conversation, but I need you to go deeper down, so deep that anything I say will become your absolute truth. Now, let’s talk about your daughter, Cokie…”
The following day, Reginald caught up with Marguerite Masters, Cokie’s mother, leaving the Turquoise Manor, Stonybrook’s tea room. According to what Kent had told him, she met her friends there every Monday noon. It took a little more subterfuge to get alone with her, but he was able to ‘convince’ a waiter to tell her she had a phone call just as she was leaving.
As she came down the short hallway to the alcove where the phone was, Reginald could see where Cokie got her looks. Marguerite Masters was an attractive woman, in perfect shape for a woman in her thirties. Her hair was the same reddish-auburn shade as her daughter, and she carried herself with confidence. As she came to the doorway, he flipped on the light.
“Mrs. Masters?” he said, as she looked surprised to see someone already in the alcove. Before she had a chance to react, he held up the pocket watch so that it reflected the light from the ornate fixture above him. Her eyes were drawn to it.
“I want you to relax. Look at nothing else but the pocket watch, hear nothing but my voice. As you listen to my voice, it will take up your whole world.” He snapped his fingers, then helped her trade places with him so she could sit down. As she slumped, her eyes closed, and he quietly shut the door to the alcove. “I’m sorry to be abrupt, but I don’t have time for pleasantries. Now, before we get interrupted, let’s talk about your daughter, Cokie…”
As Cokie walked up the steps to the porch of the house on Knob Hill, she began to feel a little confused. She had finished her riding lessons that afternoon, quite certain that she needed to be somewhere at 4:30. She had called to tell her mother that she didn’t need a ride home. She had made an excuse to Bebe and Grace, her best friends. Then, realizing she was running late, she hurried from the stables to Knob Hill Road. It didn’t concern her that she knew exactly where she was going, even though she was certain she had never been in this neighborhood. She was relieved when she walked up on the porch at 4:30, but now she couldn’t remember why she was here. She shrugged her shoulders and rang the doorbell.
Being the overindulged only child of rich parents, the pretty redhead always dressed well. Her riding clothes were custom tailored, and most of her clothes had designer labels. They served to remind everyone who saw her that she was a cut above. The outfit she wore now looked good on her. It showed off her legs and her tits—which were the best in the eighth grade: a cream sweater (with a pushup bra underneath, not that anyone could tell), a pleated miniskirt, white over-the-knee socks, and high top sneakers. When she had put them on in the changing room at the riding school, she had remarked to Mary Anne, the Baby-Sitter slut, that the sneakers cost more than Mary Anne’s whole wardrobe (which doubtless was true).
“Ah, Cokie, right on time,” Mr. Scott said, as he opened the door. “Come in, come in.”
The red-head looked at the man, confused, but followed him into the house.
“Wait, do I know you? What am I doing here?” She narrowed her eyes as he closed the door behind them. “I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m leaving.” She intended to turn toward the door, but for some reason, she didn’t.
“We’ve met, Miss Masters, you simply don’t remember it.” The man said, leering at her. “You’re here to work on your Daddy Issues.”
When he said this, Cokie’s face went blank.
“Ah, Miss Masters, even under hypnosis, such arrogance, such superiority.” He circled her, looking her over. “Such nice tits. And those lips—perfect for sucking cock.”
“I’m going to enjoy this. Follow me Cokie, we need to get you into some other clothes, and then we are going to have some fun.”
When Cokie walked in the basement, it had been made up like a girl’s bedroom—in fact it was identical to her bedroom. There was a shelf of limited-edition collectible horse figurines above the dresser, a vanity with a makeup mirror, and a canopied bed. The artwork on the wall was limited-edition prints of animals and clowns. Everything looked like it had been put together by a talented and expensive interior designer, which it had.
Cokie’s red hair had been put up in two short pigtails. She wore a green nightie that had a sheer panel that exposed her b-cup breasts and pink nipples. She walked into the room, smiling to herself. She reached over to the stereo on the dresser and turned it on, as a boy band song started playing. She danced over to the bed, swinging her hips to the beat and singing along to the song.
She crawled onto the bed, then bunched up the pillows so that she could sit up on top of the covers. As she continued singing along with the song, she lifted up her nightie and exposed her shiny green satin panties. She began rubbing the outside of the panties with one hand while the other rubbed her tits and pulled on her nipples. As her singing turned into moans and squeaks, she pushed the panties to one side and stroked her little slit. She pinched her nipples as they got rock hard.
She masturbated for several minutes, muttering “Oh, Daddy,” as she brought herself off.
As she continued to slip several fingers in her cunt, her eyes slitted, she suddenly noticed a figure standing over her. “Daddy!”
Reginald Scott stood over her, wearing gold satin pajamas. His half-erect cock was sticking out of the fly. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Princess.”
She looked up at him shocked. She smoothed her panties and covered her crotch with her hands. She blushed prettily. “But Daddy, I missed you so much!”
“What kind of slut lays in bed and calls out for her daddy while she plays with her tight little cunt?” he said, trying to sound like he was scolding her. “Are you even a virgin, you little slut?”
Cokie bit her lip and looked up at her father seductively. “I’m a very nice slut, Daddy—I’m daddy’s slut! As for virginity, I’ve been riding horses since I was eight. I kind of took care of that four years ago, while I was practicing jumps on Secretariat.”
As she noticed where her father’s gaze fell, she lifted up her nightie to expose her tits. “Do you like my tits, Daddy? All the boys at school like them, I’ve caught them ogling them. But they don’t get to see them, just you, Daddy.”
She licked her lips and pushed her panties down. As her ‘father’ stared, she spread her legs, exposing her reddened, wet slit with just a hint of dark red curls around it. She licked her lips as she slowly slid a finger over her obviously wet pussy lips.
“I guess if you really want your daddy, I can’t refuse my little princess,” he said, as he moved to the edge of the bed.
Cokie shifted forward, lightly grabbing the cock that was sticking out in front of her. “Oh, Daddy, you’re so big! Is that because of me?” She stroked it, then put her mouth to the tip.
“D-definitely,” he replied. She began sucking on his cock, reaching down to massage his balls.
After a few minutes of this, he pulled out, his cock fully hard and wet. “Turn around, Princess, and Daddy will give you what you’ve been waiting for.”
She smiled and turned over. She pushed her ass air, spreading legs. Her wet pussy was right where it needed to be for his cock. “I want Daddy to be my first real fuck.”
Reginald Scott smiled and slid his pajamas pants off. He moved in behind her, and slowly pushed his cock into her cunt. As she grunted and moaned, he began sliding it in and out.
“Oh, daddy! That feels so good.”
Cokie stood in the living room, wearing the outfit she had come in wearing—except that it was pretty clear that she had not put on her bra. Her expression was vacant. Mr. Scott looked at her and chuckled.
“Cokie, you will only remember this as a sexy dream, which you will revisit every night for the next few weeks. There are a few things I need you to do when you leave here…”
“What is this place?” Bebe whined, as she and Grace stepped up on the porch of the house on Knob Hill. She was a short, dark-haired girl. Her long curly hair and caramel complexion indicated an exotic background. She wasn’t fat, but had more curves than either of her friends, Cokie or Grace. Her favorite feature, her round ass, was framed nicely by the tight jeans she wore, coupled with a tight purple tee-shirt. Her shoes had a little heel on them, as all of her shoes did. With the heels, she was Cokie’s height.
“Don’t ask me. All I know is that Cokie left a message in my locker to meet her here after school, that she had an idea that would be an epic prank on the Baby-Sitters,” Grace replied, snorting slightly when she said ‘Baby-Sitters.’ In contrast to Bebe, she was tall and thin, with pale skin and long red hair. Even with heels, Bebe was several inches shorter than Grace. Today Grace wore a green plaid dress, with black leggings underneath, and suede boots. Her face was heavily made up, to cover her freckles, with bright red lipstick and green eyeshadow.
“Why does Cokie always drag us into these pranks?” Bebe asked, exasperated. “And where has she been? It’s almost as if she’s been avoiding us the past couple of days.”
“You don’t think so, do you?” Grace asked, a worried look on her face. While Bebe’s father was a successful lawyer, and her family was almost as well off as Cokie’s, the main reason Grace put up with Cokie’s antics and insults was because she always had money to spend. The idea that Cokie would dump her as a friend worried her. She didn’t really get the whole thing of picking on the Baby-Sitters, she thought they were actually pretty cool, but if that’s what Cokie wanted to do, Grace would do it.
“I dunno—She’s been acting weird the past couple of days. Before math class yesterday, y’know, she sits in front of me? Well she turned around, with this weird look on her face, and asks me if she thinks her father is ‘hot.’ Can you believe that? Weird. And did you see what she was wearing to school today? I’m surprised she didn’t get sent home.”
Grace giggled. “Yeah, I saw. Cokie definitely should not be going bra-less. I mean, who does that? Maybe she was trying to impress Logan, although if that was the reason, it didn’t work. I saw her flirting with him coming out of English class, and he was staring at—them, you know. But then she went to get a drink of water, and it was like she forgot how to use a water fountain—she ended up spraying it all over herself and him. Everyone started laughing at her, and worst of all, Logan left to dry off, so he didn’t even see what the water did to her top. All the other boys enjoyed it, though.”
Bebe joined Grace in laughing. “Oh, no. I wish I had seen that. Well, I guess she must be inside with whoever lives here. Let’s ring the doorbell.”
Mr. Scott answered the door when they rang the doorbell. “You must be Bebe and Grace! Cokie has told me so much about you. I’m Mr. Scott. Come in.”
The girls hesitated. “Is Cokie here?” Grace asked, her green eyes narrowing. “We were supposed to meet her here.”
“She called a few minutes ago and said she’s running late. She said something about picking up some waffle syrup.” Reginald said, as he held the door open for the two girls.
“Waffle syrup? She must have something really good planned for Kristy,” Bebe said, laughing, as they entered the living room.
Grace and Bebe stood in the living room with Mr. Scott, feeling a little awkward. They weren’t used to men his age looking at them like he was.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Cokie wanted me to show you something.” He walked over to the mantle and picked up a silver pocket watch. Turning to face the two girls, he held it up where both could see it. “See how pretty it is? The design on it is very intricate; look very closely to see it.”
The girls moved closer to the watch. After a few seconds, their faces took on blank expressions. “Look at nothing else but the pocket watch, hear nothing but my voice. As you listen to my voice, it will take up your whole world.”
“Close your eyes, and see the pocket watch in your mind. You will go deeply asleep, but remain standing. You will concentrate on my voice, and everything I say will become your truth, your absolute, unquestioned truth.”
He put the pocket watch down and circled around the two girls. “I really must thank Cokie for bringing you two to me. We are going to have lots of fun. Why don’t you follow me, and we’ll get you changed into something more interesting?” He led the girls upstairs.
When they entered the basement a little while later, it was set up like a classroom, with a few student desks, a teacher’s desk, and chalkboards on the wall. Neither outfit the two girls wore would pass the dress code at their real school. Bebe wore bright pink short shorts that looked like they were painted on, and a white tee-shirt blazoned with the words ‘Teacher’s Pet’ in fluorescent blue letters across the front. The shorts were tight enough at the crotch that they formed a cameltoe, making it clear that she wore no panties. Likewise, the tee-shirt was tight and slightly sheer, so that her hard nipples pressed through the fabric, and her dark areolae were visible. She wore a fetish version of saddle oxfords with a 5” heel, and white kneesocks. Her long black hair was braided into two pigtails, with cute pink ribbons tied to the ends. The look was made complete with slutty makeup and pink lipstick.
Grace wore a light green tube top and a very short plaid skirt. Like Bebe’s top, the tube top was tight and slightly sheer, so that Grace’s rock-hard nipples and light pink areolae were clearly visible. The plaid skirt barely covered her tight, almost flat ass, or her crotch in the front. She wore kneesocks that matched her top, with shoes similar to Bebe’s except without the high heels. She wore bright red lipstick and green eyeshadow, but her makeup emphasized her freckles, instead of covering them up. Her red hair was tied in a long ponytail.
The two girls crossed the room, and took their seats. They looked at each other and giggled, then leaned in and lightly kissed each other on the lips.
Just as they did this, Mr. Scott came into the room. They straightened up, trying to look innocent.
“Girls, we are not here for you to have fun. This is detention. I want you to take out some homework and work quietly.” He said sternly.
“Yes, Mr. Carmichael. We’re sorry,” they said, more-or-less in unison. They took some books, paper and pencils out of their desks. Sighing, they began writing out some math problems.
As she worked, Grace subtly spread her knees apart and lifted her skirt. “Mr. Carmichael, I don’t understand this problem—can you help me?”
As he looked her way, she saw where his eyes darted down to her pantyless crotch. She smiled and moved her hand to stroke her moist pussy lips.
“What is it?” He made little attempt to ignore her actions, but moved over next to her desk. She smiled and pointed to a problem in the book, while pulling her skirt up so that when he looked down at the book, he would be able to see her bare pussy.
He attempted to concentrate on showing her how to solve the math problem. Bebe looked over at her teacher and her best friend then stood up and said, “I need help with that one too.”
Bebe moved behind her teacher and rubbed her tits against his back. Then she reached between his legs and felt up his cock and balls.
“Bebe, stop that! Both of you girls are being very naughty!” he said, turning toward her, but making no attempt to stop her or move away.
Grace looked up at him innocently. “Yes, Mr. Carmichael, we’re very naughty. You should punish us!”
“Yeah, very naughty!” Bebe said, giggling. She grabbed his left hand and moved it to her breasts.
Grace moved around and reached for his zipper. She deftly unzipped his pants and took out his hardening cock. Meanwhile, Bebe kissed him on the lips. She started frenching him.
Grace kissed his cock, then began sucking on the tip. When he was hard, he pushed Bebe back from his face. “Grace, why don’t you help Bebe get undressed? I think I’ll ‘punish’ her—first.”
The two girls giggled. Grace stood up from her desk. She reached and pulled Bebe’s tee-shirt off, then slid down her shorts. She led Bebe over to the teacher’s desk, having her lean back on it. She got down between Bebe’s legs and began licking her wet slit.
‘Mr. Carmichael’ watched them for a few minutes, pumping his cock. Finally, he grabbed Grace’s shoulder and pulled her up. She pouted, but gave him room to move between Bebe’s legs.
He stroked Bebe’s pussy, then put his cock against her opening. When he thrust in, she grunted. “Oh, yes, Mr. Carmichael, punish me! I’ve been very naughty.”
As he pounded in and out of Bebe, Grace quickly undressed. She leaned over and kissed Bebe, plunging her tongue into her friend’s mouth.
“You’ll still be able to punish me, after you finish with Bebe, won’t you, Mr. Carmichael? I’ve been naughty too…”
Grace and Bebe came downstairs after changing back into the clothes they wore earlier—without their underwear, that is.
“Okay, Grace, Bebe, when you leave here, you won’t remember visiting my house or anything else that happened this afternoon. As far as you’re concerned, you spent the afternoon hanging out together after Cokie ditched you. Since Cokie is going to be spending less time with you, I think you need some new interests. Here is what you’re going to do…”
Mary Anne came into the Baby-Sitters Club meeting in unusually good spirits. “You won’t believe what happened at the riding school yesterday!” she began, as the other gather around.
“So have you noticed how Cokie Masters has been acting lately?” she asked.
“Yeah, she’s in my English class, and she’s been coming to school looking like a—well, there’s no other way to put it—like a slut,” Kristy said, giggling nervously. “More than usual that is. The only reason they haven’t sent her home is because her parents are the wealthiest couple in town.”
“Yeah, and did you see what happened at lunch day before yesterday? She carried her tray past Kristy and me. She stopped next to us, and I thought she was going to make her usual snide comments to us, when she suddenly tripped. Her face landed squarely in the plate of spaghetti from her tray. She got it all over her.” Claudia said, laughing.
“The weird thing is, when she got up, she just said something like, ‘I’d better go home and change, like a good girl,’ and then she left without saying anything to us.”
Mary Anne giggled. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with her. Yesterday, she practically fell off her horse several times during riding lessons, like she was some first year. Then, after class, she changed clothes, and as usual, made a bee line to where Logan was. I was hanging out with him. He was cleaning out one of the stalls—I don’t usually like to bother him while he’s working, but we hardly get to see each other since school started. So, anyway, I was talking to him, and here comes Cokie, and I thought she was going to butt in and start flirting with him like she usually does.
“And she was dressed like she has been dressing all week—short skirt, tight sweater, you can see her—her nipples through the sweater. She comes around the corner of the stall, and trips! Falls on her face, right into the pile of—you know—muck Logan’s been cleaning out of the stall. She gets up, covered in manure, and Logan starts laughing!”
“And he says, ‘Cokie, could you be any more obvious? Just leave me alone. I’m Mary Anne’s boyfriend and that’s not going to change!’ Can you believe it? He said it, just like that!”
“The weird part is, Cokie just looked at him. She looked miserable, like anyone would that was covered in horse manure, but she didn’t make her usual insults or throw a fit or anything like she usually would. She just said, ‘I guess I better get home, like a good girl.’ And walked off.”
“Well, whatever’s going on with her, Bebe and Grace have caught it too.” Dawn said. As the other girls turned to her, she continued. “They came to school yesterday wearing outfits just as—well—slutty as Cokie’s been wearing, just without the designer labels. I heard Bebe got sent to the office, during first period, because she wore this cropped tee-shirt. They didn’t send her home, but she came back later wearing an old jacket out of lost-and-found over the tee-shirt. And it looked like Grace took a pair of scissors to her skirt.”
“Eww!” Stacy interrupted. “That’s just wrong. Grace is the only one of those three that has any fashion sense at all.”
Dawn rolled her eyes at Stacy. “And this afternoon, as I was leaving, I saw her and Bebe go into Mr. Carmichael’s classroom and ask him if he could help them with some of their homework problems. You know as well as I do that Grace has gotten straight A’s in Math since fourth grade. I walked past the room to see what they were doing, and Bebe smirked at me, then closed the door to the classroom.”
“What do you think they were doing with Mr. Carmichael?” Mallory asked. Stacy looked at Claudia and Dawn and rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think they were getting tutored,” Stacy said, then giggled.
Just then the phone rang. Kristy answered it, then called out asking who wanted to babysit Saturday for Becca Ramsey. Claudia volunteered.
“I know it’s a few weeks away, but I thought we might have a Halloween Party with some of the kids we babysit.” Kristy said, after she hung up the phone. “We could get the parents to help us with the treats and punch. We can take them around trick-or-treating for a while, then have the party. But we need a place to hold it. Any ideas?”
For Kent and Marguerite Masters, the past few weeks had been torture. They hadn’t been allowed to make love to each other. They had tried pleasuring themselves, just to take the edge off, but that hadn’t worked either—Kent found that he wasn’t allowed to even get hard, and Marguerite could never cum while she was masturbating.
Marguerite had taken her daughter shopping, and found herself agreeing to buy some of the most outrageous outfits Cokie had ever worn. It was during the shopping trip that Marguerite had noticed how beautiful her daughter was. She was shocked to find herself getting turned on watching her daughter try on some of the sluttiest outfit a thirteen-year-old girl could wear.
To top it off, they had gone to Frederick’s of Hollywood, a place she never dreamed she would take Cokie to. Cokie tried on several nightgowns, each one sexier than the last. She finally settled on a short green babydoll style nightie. It was sheer in front, exposing her budding breasts and pointy nipples. Paired with a tiny pair of satin panties, it was indecent. Marguerite didn’t even think about objecting to the purchase.
Kent had been more and more distracted by his daughter. He discovered that he could get hard, when he was looking at Cokie or thinking about her, he just couldn’t when he tried to masturbate or was alone with his wife. He had never thought of his daughter as anything more than his sweet innocent princess, but as she walked around the house teasing him with slutty outfits—and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing any underwear—he couldn’t help but be turned on. He did his best to hide his arousal—he certainly didn’t want his wife or daughter to know he was getting hard looking at his daughter.
That is, until that evening. He and his wife were just about to go upstairs to bed when the phone rang. He answered it, and was relieved when the person on the other end gave him the permission he so badly needed. He absently handed the phone to his wife, then headed upstairs to change clothes. His wife followed him up shortly after. As they passed Cokie’s room, he vaguely heard her phone ring.
He undressed and put on his pajamas, then sat patiently while his wife put on a sexy outfit of bra, thong, garter belt, and stockings, all in black. They walked down the hall to Cokie’s room. When they opened the door, he could see his daughter lying on the bed, looking sexy in a sheer green nightie. He felt his cock tenting his pajama pants, as it got harder than it had in several weeks.
She looked directly up at him, and said, “Oh, Daddy, I’m your good girl. I’m ready for you. Please come fuck me!”
He smiled at his princess, his daddy’s girl. He turned to his wife, who nodded at him in encouragement. She had a hand in her panties, and he could smell her arousal. He let his cock stick out the fly of the pajamas, and stroked it. He walked toward his daughter, then leaned down to kiss her on the lips.
My next installment will be the Halloween Party—guess where it will be. As always, comments and suggestions are welcome.
