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Dalia’s summer break tells the story of Dalia, a 19 year old student spending the summer at home after her first year of college.
Dalia walked onto her street, in an ordinary suburban neighborhood and thought about how little had changed since she left for college last year. The town was still boring as fuck.
Dalia had curly shoulder length brown hair, freckles, and green eyes. She had an easy bounce in her step, the athleticism and grace of a gymnast. She had been a core member of the cheer leading squad in High School, and at only 5’1 and 110 lbs she was the perfect size for being tossed repeatedly in the air. She dropped cheer for college but had made sure to keep working out and tumbling, keeping her legs strong and flexible, her perfect round ass tight the way she liked it. Her surprisingly large D cup tits bounced as she picked up her pace, in a hurry to get home.
The guys at the party had been a big disappointment. They had always talked so much shit about how they would fuck her. The things they’d do to her body, how they’d pound her till she couldn’t walk, about how nice her ass was, but as soon as she was alone with any one of them he would chicken out. Or get weird and grabby and uncoordinated until she basically had to push him away so she could just go home and take care of herself. She found herself wishing she could meet a man with real experience, someone who could take charge.
But if that didn’t happen, Dalia always had the option to go home and take care of herself. Dalia was a full fledged porn addict, she could play with herself for hours every night. She got into some pretty hardcore shit too… rough anal… deep throat videos… gang bangs… If she couldn’t get the real thing, it would just have to do. Dalia knew she’d have the place to herself for a few hours at least, her mom working late as a bartender and her Dad long gone.
Over the years Dalia managed to get herself a nice collection of toys to play with, a couple different sized dildos and her prize jewel, a red glittery butt plug.
The buttplug gave her some of the most powerful, incredible orgasms of her life. It didn’t take her long to get into practicing with the dildo up her ass too.
In fact, that’s exactly what was on Dalia’s mind right then and there as she walked down the sidewalk to her house. Having the place all alone, and fucking herself in the ass with her biggest dildo until she fell asleep.
She was pleasantly buzzed from the party and didn’t notice her neighbor at first, sitting out on his porch with a glass in his hand. Just as she was crossing his yard he raised it and gave it a swirl, clinking the ice cubes against the glass and giving her a start. She yelped in surprise and jumped, turning to face him.
He leaned forward, his face appearing in the light from the street lamp. “Didn’t mean to scare you, hon.”
Mr. Martin. He had moved in a few years ago. A big guy, old enough to be her father. He had thick, hairy, tattooed arms and huge hands. He had worked construction for many years, but now he had his own company and was doing more supervising work. Dalia had often seen him out mowing his lawn and wondered in an offhand way if his cock was as big as the rest of him.
“Oh! It’s ok. I just didnt’ see you there.” Dalia stopped. Something about his eyes held her in her tracks. She felt her cheeks flush, and wasn’t sure what she should say next.
He held his eye contact with her for a few more seconds and slowly began to grin. He leaned back in his chair and took another sip from his glass. “Not like you to be back so late.”
“No, Sir.” Dalia blushed. Why did she say that? She had never called him Sir before. “I was at a party.”
“Must innovia escort not have been much of a party, if they let you leave looking like that.” His voice was like a growl, and he sounded drunk, slurring a few of his words. Dalia had dressed to get laid that night, it was true, in a flimsy little yellow party dress with mascara and glossy lipstick and a little black choker around her neck.
“Do you like my dress?” Dalia bit her lip. She was already wet. She could feel the breeze blowing under the tiny little pleated skirt of her dress. The air was cool on her thighs and her freshly waxed pink pussy under the skimpiest underwear she owned. It was like a red piece of cloth string that pressed up into her pussy and between her ass cheeks with a small white triangle of fabric in the front that had two cherries embroidered on it. She hadn’t even bothered with a bra, and could feel her nipples getting hard under the thin fabric.
“Come closer, I can hardly see it.”
Dalia walked up the stairs, her pussy burning between her legs. There she got her first real look at Mr. Martin. He had on an open work shirt exposing a broad barrel chest and a pair of jeans. He was sitting with his legs spread and Dalia’s eyes lingered there for a long moment before she looked up and made eye contact with him, leering at her in the dark.
He didn’t say a word, just lifted his hand with one thick meaty finger pointing at the ground and making a circular motion. Dalia turned her body gracefully, letting him see her from every angle. She could feel his eyes burning into her.
“Fuck.” She heard him mutter behind her. When she completed her slow circle he was leaning back with his hand on his lap.
“And underneath?” He nodded his head down towards her skirt.
Dalia was breathing heavy now, exhilarated. She could feel the blood rushing to her face as she reached down, like she had lost control of her movements, and lifted her dress to show him her panties. She held the skirt up for what felt like a long time, letting him really look. He stared at her pussy for a long time, like he was lost in thought. His hand on his lap slowly rubbing up and down.
Finally he blinked and looked around, hauling himself up on his feet. He towered over Dalia as she slowly let the skirt back down to cover herself. He must be 6’2, she thought, and somewhere around 200 lbs.
“In the house.” He jerked his thumb towards his front door, and Dalia nodded her head yes, walking into his house with his heavy footsteps just behind her.
The inside of Mr. Martin’s place was clean, but it reeked of weed and alcohol. There were pinup posters on the wall, girls with their tits out, one just by the kitchen door of a girl sitting on her butt with her legs spread and her knees bent, fingers between her legs sticking her tongue out for the camera.
“Your Daddy wouldn’t let you go out like that if he were around, would he?”
“No Sir.” Dalia turned to face Mr. Martin, who was walking towards her now with a mean glint in his eye.
“Put your hands on the table.” Mr. Martin pointed at his kitchen table and glared until Dalia did as he said. She could feel the back of her dress riding up. It wasn’t long enough to cover her ass if she was bent over like this.
“Maybe he needs a little help keeping his girl in line.”
“Yes Sir, he needs more than just a little help.” Mr. Martin grinned at this, and looked down into Dalia’s eyes. He reached down and gently but firmly held the palm of one hand to the side of her head, pinning her down to the table while his other hand reached up and yanked her dress all the way up to her waist.
“Maybe you need a new Daddy.” Mr. Martin’s istanbul escort hands were surprisingly gentle. He slid his fingertips across her ass and down the crack, putting some pressure on her asshole before his fingers worked their way between her thighs and pushed her legs apart.
“I need a new Daddy… I need it right now.” Dalia was almost moaning. She couldn’t believe how horny she was, she felt like she was probably dripping down her thighs. She reached up with one hand and gripped Mr. Martin’s wrist with her slim fingers. Holding tight as she braced for what she knew was coming next.
Crack! He didn’t hold anything back on his first spank. She jerked forward, screaming, as the table slid an inch closer to the wall.
“You want more?”
“Yes Daddy please!”
Crack! His hand came down on the other side. This time Dalia saw stars. She let out and gasping sob and breathed deep as waves of pain radiated through her body.
“Daddy… more”
Crack! Crack! Again and again he brought his hand down hard, giving her a spanking that she had only imagined. Her ass felt like it was on fire and tears filled her eyes. Soon she was moaning, muttering “please, please” as his hand finally stilled, coming to a rest on her lower back.
“Are you ready to be a good girl now?”
“Yes Daddy.” Dalia shivered. She knew she couldn’t handle any more punishment, but she was deathly afraid of letting him down. She hoped that it had been enough.
“Good, on your knees.”
Dalia could have jumped for joy. She sank to her knees and rubbed his cock through his jeans. Looking up at him and thanking him with her eyes. Suddenly and without warning, he spit on her face.
Dalia flinched and held still, waiting to see what would come next. She could feel his drool drip down her cheek. Her hand was still on his cock and she could feel it, hot and throbbing under the stiff fabric of his jeans.
“Put one hand between your legs.” He drawled, tilting her chin up so that she was looking up at him.
She did as he said, letting out a soft moan and shifting a little as she touched her wet pussy, soaking now. She pressed her fingers against it. Mr. Martin drew back and unzipped his jeans, he reached inside and tugged out the fattest cock she had ever seen. It looked like it was eight, or maybe even nine inches long, and It was so thick, thicker even than her biggest toy. She could smell it too, he reeked of sex, she wondered if he had just jerked off.
Dalia moaned. She dripped on her fingers between her legs. “Please Daddy, can I suck this cock?”
Mr. Martin grinned, “go ahead princess, that’s a good girl.”
He picked his drink up and sipped from it as he watched her wrap her hand around his meaty shaft, her fingers barely meeting on the other side. She jerked him off and guided his purple throbbing head to her lips, opening wide to suck him. Her plump pink glossy lips closed around his dick and she slurped, sucking the precum out of him.
Dalia had very little experience sucking cock, but she had watched enough movies and practiced a lot on her toys. Still, she wasn’t prepared for his girth, and when he suddenly gripped a handful of her curly hair and pushed his hips forward she gurgled and choked, pulling away and coughing, drool dripping down her chin.
“What’s wrong princess, is this cock too big for you to handle?” Mr. Martin grabbed his dick and slapped it hard against her face a few times while she caught her breath, smearing the spit into her cheek.
“No Daddy, I can do better.” Dalia opened her mouth wide and took him again, this time relaxing her throat so he could push his cock down it deep.
As kadıköy escort she rubbed her soaking pussy harder and harder Mr. Martin took control. He gripped her head firmly with one hand and started to force feed her his fat cock. Deeper with every thrust. She could feel that he had done this before, and she was determined to impress him. She took him so deep, deeper than she thought she could. Breathing snorting breaths through her nose and gurgling, drool pouring out the corners of her mouth.
He laughed, getting into a rhythm fucking her face, then he turned his drink over and poured it on her. She closed her eyes, the scent of alcohol filling her nose, feeling it soak the front of her dress, the wet cold fabric clinging to her perky nipples.
When she opened her eyes again he had his phone out and was opening the camera app, “Say cheese, princess,” he pointed the camera down at her face.
With her eyes locked out he camera Dalia opened her mouth wide and forced herself down his cock, trying to flick his balls with her tongue, then slowly pulling back up to the tip so that the whole obscene sloppy wet shaft was visible. Mr. Martin groaned and put his hand on her head again, putting the phone down on the table.
“Fuck, princess, are you ready for your reward?”
Dalia nodded eagerly and moaned, her fingers were soaking wet and she felt like she might cum too. She milked his cock with her throat, desperate to pull the cum out of his heavy balls.
Suddenly he groaned and leaned his head back, emptying himself into her throat. Long, hard bursts of sticky hot cum that made her eyes water, made her cough, she struggled to swallow as much as she could, the rest dripping down her chin.
He yanked his cock out of her throat and finished on her face, the last few drops squirting on her cheeks. She giggled and grinned up at him, leaning forward to lick the tip of his cock.
“Thank you Daddy.”
“mm that’s a good pet.”
He stroked the side of her face, looking down at her thoughtfully for a moment.
“Go home now.”
“But… Daddy…”
“Get!”
“Yes Sir.”
Dalia stood up and turned, walking to the door, wobbling on her knees a bit and grateful that it was night time and unlikely anyone would see her as she walked back to her place. Just as she got to the front door he talked to her again.
“Listen slut, you see that lamp right there?” Mr. Martin pointed to an old lamp with a red covering by the window facing her house. “That there is my whore signal, when you see that lamp on, you come to my place, understand? If that lamp’s off, you leave me the fuck alone.”
“Yes Sir.” Dalia smiled, she wanted him to leave that lamp on all night, but she could tell that he needed her to leave and she didn’t want to upset him. “Until then.”
He grunted and she left, walking across the yard back to her place.
In her room she looked at herself in the mirror. She was an absolute sloppy mess, her makeup and lipstick were smeared all over her face, mascara running in long streaks down each chin, the front of her dress soaked. She bit her lip, smiling. She liked her new look.
She went to her stash and took out her two biggest toys. Pity, none of them were as magnificent as Mr. Martin’s cock. She went back to the mirror and started to play, watching herself, talking to herself, “you like that don’t you, you little whore? You lie being a dirty little cock slut don’t you? Oh fuck…”
Her moans filled the house for hours. She hoped that Mr. Martin could hear them. It was a long time until she was too tired to keep going and decided to get in bed. And even before she did she checked one last time to see if the whore lamp was lit, but it wasn’t.
As she drifted off to sleep all she could think about was that incredible cock. And what might happen the next time they met. And that photo… she wondered what he’d do with that. Oh well, she didn’t really care, she’d let him do whatever he wanted, of that she was sure.
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