Ch. 06: The Naughty One
Disclaimer: All characters are 18 or older.
The guest room's silver doorknob turned, and the heavy door swung open wide. The scent of pure sex rolled out of the room like fog, freed from it's cage, and poured itself into the hallway, rolling around the legs of the powerful figure that loomed in the door frame. Richard cut an imposing silhouette, with the light behind him, his long shadow falling across the carpet of the hallway and onto the opposite wall, concealing his features in darkness. As he stepped through the portal into the hall, the lighting began to even out, and one could see his thick, powerful slabs of rippling muscle, only further emphasized by the sheen of sweat covering his body. Between his legs swung a fearsome monster, only half-hard and still more than a foot long, struggling to support itself it's own immense weight. The titanic shaft gleamed with the juices of the peacefully slumbering petite teen not fifteen feet behind him, her swollen womb still swimming with a gallon of potent baby-batter. He'd certainly enjoyed their intense fuck, but he shifted his attention to the task at hand, to do the same for three more girls before the day's end. His member lurched with it's approval of the plan.
He turned for the stairs and began to stride forward, long, confident strides quickly eating up the distance to his next target. He had to admit, he was somewhat curious as to what the girls had all been doing while he was occupied with Aiko. Almost as though to answer his unspoken question, a faint and curious sound met his ears, one he almost recognized. He paused, listening intently for the source of it for a long moment before it came to his ears once again. He turned, his previous haste forgotten as curiosity overtook him, eyes looking on the door to his daughter's room, a sliver of light escaping into the windowless hall through the tiny gap between door and door frame. His brows furrowed as he tried to place the sound he was hearing, it was just too quiet to place it but he knew he recognized it somehow. He reached out, pushing the door open just a little bit wider. A scent rolled out to meet him, a familiar scent, but one just as unrecognizable as that odd sound. Speaking of the sound, it definitely got louder as the door opened. And now there was a new sound, a hum that rose and fell in volume, a rhythmic pulsing. He puzzled at that for a moment, before curiosity got the better of him and he pushed the door open wide enough to stick his head in.
Sam's room was a familiar sight to him, but the intense look was shocking to many when the first laid eyes upon it. Rich was not usually one to approve of extravagant decorating, but his little girl had managed to avoid his usual objections by wearing him down for each piece one at a time. By the time he'd seen it all coming together, he room was already the ultimate goth scene. At first, she'd begged for the paint to redo her walls into their current shade of deep purple, promising to do the painting herself. She'd only asked for his help with the edges, but soon enough he'd taken over the job while she was off at school. Then she'd wanted to redo the ceiling, to black, and this time carried through on her promise to do it herself, only to drip paint on the carpet. Since if needed to be replaced anyway, she'd found just the perfect pattern to do it, a deep, plush black carpet with little purple flowers. Well, they were supposed to be flowers, they really just looked like spots as soon as they got stepped on. Then piece by piece, all her furniture had needed replacing, but she had found a great place that offered trade-ins, and had the most beautiful sets of deep ebony, ornate furniture, for a 'great deal'. He had to admit, the pure black popped out surprisingly nicely against the purple walls. The final piece had been her bed, a massive ebony four-poster bed she'd dug up on the internet, going free to anybody who could come and get it out of some old dead lady's creepy house. She'd made a black mesh canopy for it, and had managed to use the puppy-dog eyes to get him to buy her the purple silk sheets for it. Since then she'd kept adding details, painting black abstract patterns and shapes onto the solid purple walls. All told, it was an impressively dark abode for such a cheerful girl, but she'd always been fond of the goth style for some inexplicable reason. He never really got it, and while he had to admit he wasn't happy about the tricks she pulled to get it, she was his little angel, and he was helpless to do anything but love her. As he glanced around the room, he noted that the closet was open for some reason, all the stuff emptied out of it and piled on either side of it. But what he saw next made him forget his curiosity on that particular point.
Anna stood at the edge of the bed, her back to him, fully dressed, if one could call that barely-there outfit dressed. She stood out amid the darkness like a beacon, every aspect of her bright against the purple and black. From her shimmering copper hair, her pale, freckle-dusted skin, that tied-up white top, the micro-mini plaid skirt that stopped just short of covering her entire pale rear, to those delectable legs, emphasized by the pure white thigh-high stockings that could in no way be considered to meet up with that skirt, baring a lovely look at her tender, creamy thighs. As his gaze lingered, his eyes took note the her hips were rocking, that tiny skirt lifting and falling in time with the sound of the hum, each movement causing that pale, flawless derriere to wax and wane before his eyes. A sudden movement drew his eyes down, and he finally took note of a second pair of legs, these wrapped in black, lacy stockings, and twitched with each movement of Anna's hips. As the sound came once again, all the pieces fell into place, and a grin spread across his face. That mysterious sound was a whimper he'd heard just the night before, the sound his little girl made when holding back an orgasm. Judging from the volume, she had buried her face in one of her pillows to muffle the noise. The mysterious hum was obvious once he saw the edge of a little black strap on Anna's rear. He couldn't tell what exactly it was, but from what he knew of Anna, it was probably pretty big. And the unfamiliar scent wasn't unfamiliar at all, simply missing a common ingredient. It was the scent of sex, female juices, sweat, and arousal, but without the masculine musk he usually associated with it. It was the smell of girl-on-girl, one he'd never had the chance to enjoy before this moment.
