I stretch my tight cheerleader slut body across the couch. While letting my short skirt ride high enough to flash the lacy edge of my thong. My cropped top barely contains my tits, nipples already stiff against the thin fabric.
Across the room, Mr. Henderson watches from his armchair, eyes locked on my thighs. As I slowly uncross and recross my legs, giving him a deliberate peek at my bare, glistening pussy. I catch his gaze and smirk.
He shifts, adjusting the growing bulge in his pants, pretending to focus on the TV. But I know better. I’ve been teasing him like this every babysitting shift since I turned eighteen—pushing just far enough to make him sweat. Finally I decide to get up and tootle my way to him.
When I reach him I swing one leg over and straddle his lap, pressing my soaked thong against the hard ridge of his cock. He groans low, hands instinctively gripping my waist even as he mutters that we shouldn’t. I grind down harder, feeling him throb through his pants.
“You want this tight little cunt, don’t you, Mr. H?” I purr, rocking my hips in slow, filthy circles. His resistance crumbles. Fingers dig into my ass as I unzip him and free his thick shaft. It springs up, heavy and leaking. I slide to my knees, wrap my lips around the head, and suck him deep, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing while I moan around his length.
He fists my hair and thrusts shallowly, praising how good I am, how perfect my mouth feels.
A Good Cheerleader Slut Knows How to Tease… and Please
After a few wet, sloppy minutes I stand, slide off my skirt, and bend over the arm of the chair. With my ass up, and my pussy dripping and exposed.
“Fuck me, daddy,” I beg. “Use your little babysitter slut.” He doesn’t hesitate.
First, he lines up and slams in, stretching me wide in one brutal thrust. I cry out, my cuny clenching as he pounds me relentlessly. Our skin slapping, his hand cracking across my ass. Meanwhile I rub my clit furiously, chasing the edge while he grunts filthy promises—calling me his dirty whore, his cum-hungry toy.
Then he finishes first, burying deep and flooding my pussy with hot spurts. The sensation tips me over; I come hard, spasming around his cock, milking every drop.
When he pulls out, cum leaks down my thighs. I drop to my knees again. Then, “Clean me up,” I order him. He obeys, tongue lapping at my swollen folds, sucking his own load from me until I shudder through another orgasm.
Later, I dress slowly, flashing my tits one last time before I leave. I know he’ll be hard again the second the door closes behind me—and I’ll be back next week, ready to push him even further.
