Angie's List Ch. 01

I met this girl off a website called Angie's List. I didn't have much expectations because, hey, it was a website, right? A meat market. I was just glad the website was for real and not a fake subscription place.

And don't get me wrong, the girl looked sweet but acted nasty. If we had the juice, doing her would be no problem at all. I just had a head shot to go by, but her cheeks were almost gaunt so I knew she wasn't fat. Her skin was pale and her hair unnaturally black, like she wanted to go for a Goth look. And oh, yeah, she was about twenty, and I'm twenty plus twenty. I was tired of bitchy women my own age, so I thought it would be fun to do something where my dominance would go unquestioned.

I'll spare you the details of the strained chit-chat -- not strained because we had nothing going, but strained because we both wanted to get past that phase. There were a couple of details worth mentioning, though, because they set the stage for later.

We managed to get a little booth in the bar area of the restaurant, one of those little ones that are cozy and not well lit, but well enough. It was a back corner to boot, which was good. I showed up first, but she was only a couple of minutes later.

She looked just like her photo -- Thank God! -- and a nice pair of twins practically leaping out of her blouse, which was too tight by about two sizes, just the way I like it. It was all black, as was all of her makeup except the bright red fuck-me lipstick. I looked at those lips and instantly saw them ringing 'round my cock. Somehow I think she got the idea, because she was grinning when I looked back into her eyes.

"Like what you see, Daddy?" she said, smiling, almost giggling.

"Oh yeah," I grinned back at her. That one word -- Daddy -- told me where she wanted to take this, and I was up for it. Literally.

"So you're Angie."

"Yeah." She giggled some more; I laughed. The big joke was that on Angie's List, ALL the girls were named Angie. It kept things simple, and cute. And mysterious.

We had a couple of glasses of wine and chatted while we flirted. She was rubbing my thigh underneath the table, which no one could see. I was squirming, and soon my hand was sliding up under her skirt. It didn't take long to discover she had no panties on, and even less time after that to slide my middle finger up inside her sopping wet cunt. She just giggled and grinned at me, but no one who was looking could see what was going on.

But it was too much for me; we weren't going to get anywhere that way.

"Let's get outta here, " I said. "Daddy's little girl is being very naughty. She may need to be disciplined."

"I'm sorry for being a bad girl, Daddy," she said, poking out her lower lip and batting her heavily made up eyelashes. "I can't help it. Maybe you can help me learn to be a good girl."

"We can try," I said, smiling slightly. She smiled back slyly.

At home, the chit chat over wine continued, but got more intriguing fast. But every time I reached in, she danced back, just enough to get away, but not enough to make it seem like she was getting away. Since I knew I would be fucking her hard and fast soon, I went along with the game. Her playfulness was a refreshing change from the mothers-I-barely-care-if-I-fuck that I had been dating lately.

The play turned serious with the next glass of wine. She filled the glasses and "accidentally" stumbled, spilling the red wine all over my clothes.

"Fuck!" I yelled, knowing they would be ruined if I didn't soak out the wine immediately. "What did you do that for?"

She just giggled and poured the other glass on herself.

"Oops," she said, giggling some more. Apparently the wine hit her a lot harder than it hit me. "I better go scrub this out of my clothes," she said, and headed for the back bathroom. I went to my bedroom and changed into a robe, then scrubbed the wine out of the clothes under a faucet in the bathroom.

I guess I was a bit faster than she was, because when I emerged in my robe, she was still in back. I decided to switch our drinks to Jack Daniels, which is sweet enough for women and strong enough for men.

When she emerged from back she was stark naked.

"I've been a bad girl," she said. She held her hands behind her back, which caused her beautiful breasts to jut out for me to see. Between her legs I saw hair, enough to tell me she did not shave it. Young as she was, I liked it better that way; it reminded me that this girl was indeed a woman. A TF -- Totally Fuckable -- woman.

"You've been a very bad girl," I agreed. "I can't let this go."

"I understand, Daddy," she said, using that lower lip again.

I sat on my wing chair, which was slightly taller and firmer than my sofa, which made it better for my needs.

"Come over here."

She put her finger in her mouth like a little girl, looked at me, and slowly walked over to me.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said. "Please don't hurt me."

"Daddy never wants to hurt his little girl," I answered, "but sometime my little Angie needs to be reminded of good behavior. And bad behavior."

I bent her over my knees so that her rear end stuck out nicely. She kept her knees together, tightening her butt and presenting to me.

The first spank, with my open hand, was tentative but firm. I felt her body move with it a little, as if she was settling into it.

"Oh Daddy," she said simply.

The next blow was firmer, harder, more resolute.

"Oh! Daddy!"

More.

"Oh! Daddy!"

With each blow, increasing in strength and tempo, she squeaked out an exclamation.

"Oh! Daddy! Yes, Daddy! Make me a good girl!"

They became more breathless, less energetic, and soon, strained.

"Oh, Daddy! That's enough, Daddy!"

I kept going. Her ass was flaming red. Best of all, her resolve had loosened and with it, her legs had widened. I could see her sweet honey pie peaking out. Each time I swatted her, her ass tightened, pulled in, then push back out, open her legs a little more.

After a few more swats I could see the honey dew sparkling, peaking out of that fresh hairy pussy of hers. Her exclamations had stopped, but I could feel her reaction to every swat. After twenty swats or so I lost count, and determined to continue and continue.

Soon I could feel her body shaking -- she was starting to sob! At last I was getting the response I wanted.

"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! I'm sooooo sorry! Please let your little girl make it up to you!"

With that, she began rubbing her substantial breasts on the top of my thighs. I was still wearing my robe, but it was only of those plush micro fiber robes. I could feel every contour of those giant eraser nipples of hers. It only took a moment for her to drop her head between my legs, and come up with my Titan missile in her mouth. After a couple of slurps, she stopped just long enough to say "OH DADDY!"

"Not yet," I said, pulling those delicious lips away from my cock. I wanted this little adventure to last. Who knew if I would ever see her again after tonight?

I pulled a sleeping mask out my robe's pocket.

"Put this on," I told her.

"Yes, Daddy," she said meekly. A lot of women would have balked at this, but since her hands remained free, she probably didn't care.

I walked her over to the middle of my living room floor, where I had placed a wooden barstool with no back -- the kind you can sit on on any side. I bent her over the stool, tummy on the top.

"Spread 'em," I instructed, and she spread her legs wide open.

"I'm all yours, Daddy," she said. "Your little girl wants you to fuck her real good."

"All in good time," I answered. I picked up several silk ties I had prepared. Each quick succession, before she realized what I was doing, I looped them around her hands and feet and secured them to the legs of the stool.

"Now you're my fuck stool," I said.

"Oh, yes, Daddy, please fuck me now," she begged. "I'm so wet. I need fucking so back. Angie promises to be a good girl."

"I don't want Angie to be a good little girl," I replied. "I want her to be my little whore."

With that, I swung the leather strop.

I didn't go on too long. I wanted to bring out that juice of hers again. Mmmmmm! Nothing smells quite as fresh and delightful as young aroused pussy. Soon I saw welts rising, and I knew it was enough for now.

Angie was sobbing. As soon as I stopped, she began twitching again, her thighs squirming with a mind of their own. I decided to test the waters.

With a single deep, masterful stroke I slid all the way into the depths of her pussy. I didn't have to work or force it; she was so wet I might have been ice skating.

"Ohhhhhh!" She shouted. Her body lurched in an involuntary orgasm; it was not easy for me to hold back, but I slammed into her again, then pulled out before I started spurting all over the place.

"Oh, MASTER!" she yelled. Now we were getting somewhere. "More, MASTER, More!"

"Doesn't your ass hurt?" I asked her.

"Hurts so good! I need more of your cock, Daddy!"

"Which is it, Master or Daddy?"

"Both! Whichever you want! You're in charge, Master! Your little girl needs her Daddy!"

"I'm concerned about these welts on your bottom," I said. "Wait here a minute." As if she could go anywhere.

I came back from the bathroom momentarily, this time with a plastic bottle of rubbing alcohol. I opened the cap and poured some onto the reddish parts.

Angie yelled and squealed.

"Daddy! Master! No more!"

I returned the cap and set the bottle aside. That was fun for a little experiment, but more would be cruel. Anyway, it was time for serious fucking.

I quickly returned my Titan to its wet, slipper silo. Soon I realized that if I tilted the barstool on two legs while I fucked her, the balance point made her seem weightless.

As I slammed into her, lost all sense of time and dimension. We both cried out over and over again; I think she came at least two more times. I finally came hard, and almost passed out on the floor. After a few minutes I floated back to the sound of Angie's voice.

"Daddy, can you let me up? I'm dripping all over."