+1 forward - 7. She explodes again

You feel your own pleasure building. Finally, you grab her hips and thrust as deep as you can. Your cock twitches as you fill her with your cum for the second time today. You playing with her clit and the feeling of you cumming inside her pushes Amy over the edge again for a second orgasm in quick succession. You feel her pussy milking your cock, squeezing every last drop into her unprotected womb.

And you do remember she isn’t on birth control. But you’ve decided you don’t care. That’s for Amy to manage. You enjoy taking her bareback too much and the idea of knocking up the daughter of one of the richest men in America turns you on.

Amy’s moans turn to a drawn out “nooooo.” Panting, you look down at her, “what did I say about good girls and the word no?”

“No but, I’m not on birth control, remember?”

“Oh I remember.” You grin down at her and she looks horrified.

“You wouldn’t!”

“I’d suggest you get on the pill sooner rather than later. Don’t they have a fancy nurse up there for students?”

“Yes but…” Amy trails off.

“So you have the tools to manage it. Manage it.”

She nods. You pull your softening cock from her, leaving a trail of cum dripping onto your kitchen table.

“House rule number four, good girls clean up their own messes.”

You gesture to the cum and turn around to pick up Amy’s beer.

As you turn around, you see her wiping it up with her hand. She stares at the sticky substance for a moment before tentatively licking it off. You smile.

“And don’t forget about this.” You hand her the beer again and she nods. She takes a quick drink and you see her swish it in her mouth a little. She must not like the taste of cum. She’ll learn.

“Can I– can I go now?”

“I’d never dream of letting a guest leave without her dinner.”

You gesture for her to sit down, which she does albeit a little reluctantly, as you turn back to your kitchen.

-

You’ve always been a passable cook and she eats pretty eagerly. You lean back and watch her clean her plate. You brought over a second drink with dinner and you can see the flush rising in her cheeks.

“Thank you Mr. Kennaway.”

“Of course. Why don’t you thank me properly?”