I met this girl off a website called Angie's List. I didn't have much expectations because, hey, it was a website, right? A meat market. I was just glad the website was for real and not a fake subscription place.
And don't get me wrong, the girl looked sweet but acted nasty. If we had the juice, doing her would be no problem at all. I just had a head shot to go by, but her cheeks were almost gaunt so I knew she wasn't fat. Her skin was pale and her hair unnaturally black, like she wanted to go for a Goth look. And oh, yeah, she was about twenty, and I'm twenty plus twenty. I was tired of bitchy women my own age, so I thought it would be fun to do something where my dominance would go unquestioned.
I'll spare you the details of the strained chit-chat -- not strained because we had nothing going, but strained because we both wanted to get past that phase. There were a couple of details worth mentioning, though, because they set the stage for later.
We managed to get a little booth in the bar area of the restaurant, one of those little ones that are cozy and not well lit, but well enough. It was a back corner to boot, which was good. I showed up first, but she was only a couple of minutes later.
She looked just like her photo -- Thank God! -- and a nice pair of twins practically leaping out of her blouse, which was too tight by about two sizes, just the way I like it. It was all black, as was all of her makeup except the bright red fuck-me lipstick. I looked at those lips and instantly saw them ringing 'round my cock. Somehow I think she got the idea, because she was grinning when I looked back into her eyes.
"Like what you see, Daddy?" she said, smiling, almost giggling.
"Oh yeah," I grinned back at her. That one word -- Daddy -- told me where she wanted to take this, and I was up for it. Literally.
"So you're Angie."
"Yeah." She giggled some more; I laughed. The big joke was that on Angie's List, ALL the girls were named Angie. It kept things simple, and cute. And mysterious.
We had a couple of glasses of wine and chatted while we flirted. She was rubbing my thigh underneath the table, which no one could see. I was squirming, and soon my hand was sliding up under her skirt. It didn't take long to discover she had no panties on, and even less time after that to slide my middle finger up inside her sopping wet cunt. She just giggled and grinned at me, but no one who was looking could see what was going on.
But it was too much for me; we weren't going to get anywhere that way.
"Let's get outta here, " I said. "Daddy's little girl is being very naughty. She may need to be disciplined."
"I'm sorry for being a bad girl, Daddy," she said, poking out her lower lip and batting her heavily made up eyelashes. "I can't help it. Maybe you can help me learn to be a good girl."
"We can try," I said, smiling slightly. She smiled back slyly.
At home, the chit chat over wine continued, but got more intriguing fast. But every time I reached in, she danced back, just enough to get away, but not enough to make it seem like she was getting away. Since I knew I would be fucking her hard and fast soon, I went along with the game. Her playfulness was a refreshing change from the mothers-I-barely-care-if-I-fuck that I had been dating lately.
The play turned serious with the next glass of wine. She filled the glasses and "accidentally" stumbled, spilling the red wine all over my clothes.
"Fuck!" I yelled, knowing they would be ruined if I didn't soak out the wine immediately. "What did you do that for?"
She just giggled and poured the other glass on herself.
"Oops," she said, giggling some more. Apparently the wine hit her a lot harder than it hit me. "I better go scrub this out of my clothes," she said, and headed for the back bathroom. I went to my bedroom and changed into a robe, then scrubbed the wine out of the clothes under a faucet in the bathroom.
I guess I was a bit faster than she was, because when I emerged in my robe, she was still in back. I decided to switch our drinks to Jack Daniels, which is sweet enough for women and strong enough for men.
When she emerged from back she was stark naked.
"I've been a bad girl," she said. She held her hands behind her back, which caused her beautiful breasts to jut out for me to see. Between her legs I saw hair, enough to tell me she did not shave it. Young as she was, I liked it better that way; it reminded me that this girl was indeed a woman. A TF -- Totally Fuckable -- woman.
"You've been a very bad girl," I agreed. "I can't let this go."
"I understand, Daddy," she said, using that lower lip again.
I sat on my wing chair, which was slightly taller and firmer than my sofa, which made it better for my needs.
"Come over here."
She put her finger in her mouth like a little girl, looked at me, and slowly walked over to me.
"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said. "Please don't hurt me."
"Daddy never wants to hurt his little girl," I answered, "but sometime my little Angie needs to be reminded of good behavior. And bad behavior."
I bent her over my knees so that her rear end stuck out nicely. She kept her knees together, tightening her butt and presenting to me.
The first spank, with my open hand, was tentative but firm. I felt her body move with it a little, as if she was settling into it.
"Oh Daddy," she said simply.
The next blow was firmer, harder, more resolute.
"Oh! Daddy!"
More.
"Oh! Daddy!"
With each blow, increasing in strength and tempo, she squeaked out an exclamation.
