She Want To Cross Line

Sarah crept up the stairs, her bare feet slapping the wood, her tummy twisting with nerves and a hot itch. Her pink hair swung past her shoulders, glowing in the faint light, bangs plastered to her sweaty forehead.

School had been a blur—her short plaid skirt teasing her thighs, her tight blouse squeezing her big tits. All day, her brain replayed the video, the note, the naughty dare she'd set for Daniel. She stopped at his office door, her blue eyes sparking with restless heat. "Hey, Dad," she called, her voice soft but dripping with tease.

"Hey, sweetie," Daniel answered from behind the door, his tone cool and steady. A shiver zipped down her spine, her cheeks blazing. Did he see it? Did he do it? Her heart thumped fast, and she bolted to her room, panic mixing with wicked hope. What if he's mad? What if he snitches to Mom? But he started this game.

She locked her door, tossing her backpack and blazer in a heap. Then it hit her—a thick, sexy smell, raw and musky, laced with Daniel's sharp cologne. Her breath snagged, lust exploding inside her. Her nipples poked hard against her blouse, the blue ribbon bouncing as she panted. The room screamed of him—of what he'd done with her panties, for her—and her thighs squeezed, her pussy soaking through her undies.

Oh my God, she thought, stumbling to her desk, legs shaky. She flipped on her computer, the hum filling the quiet. Headphones yanked over her ears, cord tangling in her damp hair, she dropped into her chair. The leather stuck to her thighs as her skirt hiked up, flashing smooth skin. Her socks slid down as she spread her legs wide. Fingers danced on the keyboard, pulling up the cam footage from after lunch. Her eyes glued to the screen, burning bright.

There he was—Daniel stepping into her room, his robe hanging loose over his strong body. He moved slow, fingers grazing her black thong on the dresser—her fave. He froze, staring at it, then turned away to the bathroom. She held her breath, lips parting as he came back, clutching her dirty panties from the laundry.

His face changed—shocked, then freaked, then dark and horny. He read her note, jaw clenching, neck flushing red. Her tummy flipped, heat pooling between her legs, her wet panties sticking as she wiggled.

He checked the mini cam, then plopped into her chair on-screen, robe falling open. His cock popped out, thick and stiff, and he growled low in her ears, "You're so nasty, Sarah. This what you want, baby girl?"

"Oh fuck, yesss," she hissed, the sound lost in her room. He wrapped her thong around his dick, stroking slow, muttering, "You left this for me, huh? Wanted me to taste you?"

Her hand shot under her skirt, shoving her soaked panties aside to dive into her dripping pussy. "Daddy, yes," she moaned, her wet fingers loud against the headphone buzz.

He sniffed her crusty panties deep, then licked her dried cum—her cum—tongue sliding slow. She arched, blouse pulling tight, cheeks flaming as she fucked herself harder, chasing the blaze he lit.

"Cum for me, Daddy," she begged in a whisper. His thong got wet with pre-cum, hips jerking as he pumped faster. "You want this cock, Sarah?" he rasped on-screen, rubbing her panties on his lips. "Want me pounding you?"

Her sweaty hair clung to her neck as she leaned in, teetering on the edge. He groaned her name—"Sarahh"—and cum blasted out, thick and white, splattering near the cam. She yelped, fingers slamming deep. Her pussy gripped tight, a hot squirt soaking the carpet where she pictured his cum landing. Her legs flailed, socks slipping off, chair rocking as pleasure ripped through her, blouse plastered to her sweaty tits.

"Aaagghh," she cried, shaking hard, nipples throbbing under wet fabric. Her eyes rolled back as the orgasm wrecked her, thighs trembling. "Never cum so hard," she gasped, lips quivering as she slumped back. Her hand stayed buried in her pussy, dripping with her juices, the screen showing Daniel's spent body staring back. He'd done it for her—because of her—and it wasn't enough.

Her breathing eased, sweat shining on her flushed skin, skirt bunched at her hips. She eyed the wet carpet, her cum mixing with his in her dirty mind.

Not enough. Not fingers. She needed him—his hands, his cock.

A flicker of shame hit, then vanished, swallowed by raw, pounding lust. She shut the cam with a shaky click and stood, legs wobbly but sure. Her uniform dropped—blouse, skirt, socks—then her bra, her soaked panties peeling off her thighs. Naked, her skin glowed, hair tumbling down her back, eyes fierce as she stepped to the door.

She turned the knob, cheeks hot with fear and craving. Her nipples stood stiff, body trembling as she hit the hall, cool air nipping her skin. Daniel's office waited ahead—she'd break through. She didn't know if he'd push her away or pull her in, but the ache inside drowned all doubt. Her lips curled into a sly, naughty smirk.