She Wants You to Fuck Her Daughter

“…In short, the non-compete clause of your old company is not valid. You already knew that. But they might try to make some trouble down the line for you,” Becky said, shuffling the paperwork back into the folder. Patient. The head of the Legal department was a blonde woman in her early-forties, her hair cut to her shoulders, and she wore a black leather jacket. It was unzipped, showing a white blouse with generous amounts of cleavage. She knew. Her chest was large, and she didn’t mind at all when you would occasionally glance at it throughout your discussion. The white, lacy bra was an excellent choice, in your opinion. It was sexy. Her red nails tapped the folder in a simple rhythm, before she put the folder into her black cabinet.

“Thank you, Becky. It never hurts to give contracts another look,” you said, nodding your head in gratitude. Your navy-blue suit was hung over your chair, as the warmer weather in the afternoon settled in. A dark-purple shirt covered your fit chest, and was tailored for your frame. Becky had taken several glances at it as well, along with your handsome features.

“Not a problem, sir. Was there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

You had promised Shi you’d talk about an intern. Becky’s daughter. And Becky had given you the impression that she was a woman who liked others being honest with her. So you nodded, before you said, “Yes. Your daughter, a…troublemaking intern.”

“Holly.” Becky’s face twisted into a weary expression. Alright, you thought. Holly was infamous. She leaned back in her chair, a small creaking sound emerging. Her blue eyes looked up and down, before locking onto your face. One hand gripped the edge of her desk in exasperation. “What has she done this time?”

“Nothing. To me.”

She nodded, sighing in relief. “That’s good, at least. I shouldn’t say this about my daughter, but it’s a shame how I let her turn out. She doesn’t treat work with the proper care. Too busy slacking off online. I’d like to see her bloom into a proper young woman, yet.” A slight blush overtook her features. “Regardless of the means.” Her blue eyes refused to meet yours. Alright, you thought. Becky was fed-up. And frustrated. How badly, though? She looked at pictures of Holly’s nineteenth birthday party instead. Two months ago, judging by the date commented underneath. Her body was similar to her mother’s, with long, flowing blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a white crop top paired with thigh-length cut jeans. A peace sign accented by black nails was pointed towards the camera.

“…I could help,” you said, voice full of implication.

“Oh?” Becky said, looking down and fidgeting with her black leather jacket. Her voice had a tone of interest. And shameful desire. Alright, you thought. Becky wanted her daughter punished. Sexually. And she liked that thought. You were really liking this company. It should never fail. Ever. “How so?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Teach her well.”

“We both know that’s not what I mean, Becky.”

Becky’s breath hitched. “I shouldn’t say. I’m her mother.”

“That’s alright. You can show me.”

Becky looked back to the picture of her daughter. Memories played through her mind, no doubt mistakes in the workplace. She licked her cherry-red lips. Shame covered her face, adding to her blush. And yet. Your contract. You would see her twisted plan for her daughter.

Amidst the rolling back of her chair, Becky took off her black leather jacket. Frantic. Standing up, she then pulled off her white blouse. Hands shaking with what she was doing, and what she would have her daughter do in the future, Becky untied her lacy, white bra, letting it fall to the ground. Her large breasts were bare in her office, and her nipples were hard in arousal. She breathed deeply, thrill twitching her body. You smiled. Your eyes encouraged her. They were supportive. Lusty. And non-judgmental.

Neither of you said a word as she marched around her desk to your seat. You twisted it to face her. There were clicking sounds. Her topless chest was reflected in the light, and a white skirt paired with white heels were all the clothing that was visible. Becky flicked a lock of short, blonde hair out of her face, before leaning forwards and gripping the arms of your chair. She paused. She felt the call of the void, like you did. An intrusive thought. How much should her daughter go through? Why not everything? Her mouth was inches from yours and her eyes were closed. A steady blush covered her skin. You leaned in, kissing her cherry-red lips, and pushed your tongue into her mouth.

She gasped, then gasped again as you groped her left breast. You were skilled. And the right amount of animal lust. Your thumb flicked over the nipple gently, caressing her chest with possessive roughness. Then you leaned back and let go.

Becky took a moment to catch her breath. She swallowed. Her blue eyes opened to meet yours, sparkling with thrill. Parental shame, too. You could see her thoughts. What mother directs how a man should fuck her daughter, after all? You gestured, supportive. Patient. Becky chose to be frantic, again. She kicked off her white heels. Then she leaned back straight, and took off her white skirt. Her lacy white panties were thrown down seconds later.

Becky stood nude before you. Hiding nothing. Neither her darkest thoughts or body. Her shoulder-length blonde hair framed a shameful and blushing face, red lips wet and blue eyes struggling to maintain eye-contact. Her arms and red nails were hidden behind her back, as she let her large breasts hang out in the open. And her lower body. Her hips were large, and her pussy was trimmed neatly. A couple drops of arousal could be seen hanging from her lower lips, and one dropped and began to trail down her inner thigh. Her desire was visible. For yourself, and what you would do. Her daughter’s future rested in Becky’s hidden lust. And it would be animalistic.

You traced the length of her legs, from her feet to her pussy, before nodding in appreciation. “You have a beautiful body,” you said to the early-forties woman. A half-smile shone on her face for a couple seconds, before disappearing into a shameful thrill. “So you want me to undress your daughter and grope her. Go on. Show me what else I should do.” Your tone was so supportive. It held just the right amount of desire. You didn’t want to guess. It was sexier not to.

Another drop began to fall down her thigh. You followed it. Becky said nothing to your matter-of-fact tone, blue eyes looking away shamefully. She couldn’t hide her lust. She was into it. The head of Legal was gone. Only a woman showing desires she should never voice. Blue eyes settled again on the picture of her daughter. She licked her red lips. Then her face turned back to you. Open and honest. Becky put one leg atop yours with a deliberate sway in her hips, then the next.

She was sitting in your lap now, large breasts and red lips inches from your mouth. You were tempted. You indulged. Leaning forwards, you sucked on one nipple for a couple seconds, then the other, not wanting it to feel left out. Becky indulged too. She moaned in appreciation. You stole another kiss from her, tongue entering her mouth, before leaning back into your seat. Your firm hands were on the side of her large hips, groping her ass. Supportive in their own way. You weren’t demeaning. You managed to be encouraging. You were rough in the spill-your-secrets way. Like you couldn’t wait to see her forbidden desires. Without any judgment.

Becky trailed one finger down your chest, blue eyes shameful and thrilled, before setting onto your zipper. She looked up briefly. You smiled gently. She gave one back. And it turned lustful. With quick hands, she had your erect cock out, pressed against the skin above her warm pussy. She rubbed it against her with two hands, spitting onto the dick to lube it up. Becky was working it at a frantic pace.

Then her hips lifted and aligned above your cock. She guided the tip in with her hands, before sheathing all six inches in a single motion. You felt her, intimately. Warmth. Tingling with pleasure. The both of you groaned at the feeling. The depth and wetness of her pussy welcomed you with hunger.

“Bareback then,” you said next to her ear, voice low. She shuddered. She knew it said much, that she didn’t even look for a condom. You loved that. You kissed her ear, supportive. She gasped as your lips went down to her neck. And again as you left a hickey. Your lust was rising. You gripped her ass with relish. Then let go of one cheek. You turned her face around to meet you, one hand cupping her chin. Your eyes wanted honesty. Becky looked with shameful pleasure. And her teeth biting her bottom lip. Your words had sparked something. There had been no shame in them. Just your arousal. Her blue eyes were wide as she nodded. Then they shut as she began to ride you with rolling hips. Her hands circled around your neck.

You matched her pace. Your core strength flexed as you lifted up your pelvis to meet hers. The smack of bare flesh on cloth accompanied her light moans. Her pussy was good. And so was your dick. But the fantasy of what you would do to Becky’s daughter was just as thrilling as the sex to her. Her remaining shamefulness couldn’t hide that.

So you spoke about it. Your hand stayed on her chin. Your grip was light and caressing. A confessor’s encouragement. “Has Holly ever given someone a lap dance?”

Becky shook her head, panting and riding you.

“Has Holly ever let someone grope her?”

Becky shook her head again.

“Has Holly ever fucked someone?”

Beck licked her red lips, before shaking her head.

“Has Holly ever used birth control?”

Becky’s blue eyes remained closed, twitching. Her mouth hung open, moaning and panting. Lustful and dreaming. She shook her head firmly.

The hand cupping her chin dropped down to her large breasts. It caressed the skin and pinched the left nipple during hard thrusts. The roughness was thrilling to you and her. You could feel it. It wouldn’t be long. And you wanted to match it. Your lips marked another part of her neck with a hickey. Then your hand went for her throat. It caressed it, at first. Becky gasped. She leaned in. She wanted the roughness. Your gently tight grip was welcomed with want. Plus a squeeze to your cock.

Another dozen seconds passed, her riding you with a pleasure equal to yours. Then your balls began to tighten.

“I’m going to come, Becky. You choose where it goes. Your daughter will get the same treatment.”

…Becky rode you harder. Her hips pressed down with **** and her moans grew louder. Your dick throbbed in her wet pussy.

Her walls tightened as the first shot of cum entered her womb. Your lust had peaked. You moaned in release. She pressed down deep, hips to pelvis, shaking in her orgasm, groaning with every subsequent shot she felt. Your throat grip stayed tight. Her creampie was rough. And her fantasy. All five of your virile shots sunk deep inside. Becky rolled her hips, not pulling up and enjoying her aftershocks, as your cock softened inside her. She sighed, pleased. Her rolling tugged. Several more drops were left inside her welcoming pussy.

“I should tell you, sir,” Becky said, her blue eyes opening and satisfaction in her tone, “I’m not on birth control either. Stopped taking it a couple years ago.” Her blush was red and delightful. Only a pleasurable shame remained. A small shame. Enough to feel bad, and enough to enjoy the guilt.

“Like mother, like daughter.” A smile graced your lips. Like a satisfied cat. Not a drop of judgment was found. “I’ll tell you all about Holly.”

“…Please do, sir.”