Independence Day 2005

Whether it was because my boss had spent so many months gushing about his daughter's fifth-place gymnastics prizes and church piano recitals; or whether it was his habit of pinning her mediocre watercolors to the office-fridge door, I had only ever imagined his daughter, Kira, to be a dull, puritanical nerd.

Kevin, my boss, is a terrifying individual. He hired me way beyond my age and experience. He saw something in me that even I didn't. Two years on, we are each yet to discover if it's there.

Somehow I managed to score an invite to his elite, annual beach party - a small, prestigious affair, with only 30 or so guests, mostly Kevin's family and close friends, but a few colleagues from the office. It was quite the honor for me. I was shunned the two previous years but had spent six months sucking up to him. I would ask on a break at the office, or in the elevator, "How is the lovely Kira today sir?" as if I cared deeply about his daughter's precious soul.

"Thank you for asking, Sam. She just won an honorable mention in a riding competition," he might say, beaming with pride. His enthusiasm for her achievements generally greater than the achievements themselves.

"I bet she just loves hanging with her cool Dad," I might say - or something equally ingratiating (I know, it's puke-worthy). But I needed that job, and my abilities were not enough to keep it.

Kevin is a man quite fond of promoting his own achievements, to anyone who will listen. And yes, he is a brilliant lawyer. But the only thing he speaks about that really seems to matter, besides money and cars, is his beloved daughter, Kira. She is the best thing about him, he is fond of saying. And it turns out that yes, by far, she is.

I was aware it had been Kira's 19th birthday sometime in the previous year - Kevin mentioned it about a dozen times. But she was still just a faceless rich kid of

who-cares

age, and not someone whose physical existence meant that much to me.

So imagine my surprise when she emerged onto the deck of her father's opulent beach house, in a robe that she promptly discarded - to reveal a tiny, one-piece, stars-and-stripes swimsuit that clung to her hot, petite figure - and proceeded to strike a series of cute poses in front of all the guests.

I looked around to see if her display was as provocative to everybody else as it appeared to me. But they were all just clapping and laughing, as if it were an entirely wholesome, innocent spectacle.

I should mention it was the fact that she was clad in US flag-swimwear that ostensibly drew all the applause and attention, for this party was to commemorate the Fourth of July. We were effectively clapping America for walking barefoot onto the deck. But I can't have been the only one to notice what a smoking hot body America had on her, or the fact she was revealing a hell of a lot of nubile flesh.

I didn't quite know where to rest my eyes as Kira twirled for the blessedly endless photos (I wondered if I should shoot a video on my phone, but decided against it). Her curvaceous bare hips were exposed by the high ridges of her swimsuit. Her large round breasts, thinly veiled in two thin fabric compartments - one starred, one striped, and with a wide open cleavage that reached lower than either - and her tight, perfectly formed ass cheeks on near-full display. There wasn't a single blemish on her skin and the slight overuse of fake tan made her the unlikely color of iced coffee.

Kira finished her wholesome striptease and took a bow. She gave Daddy a kiss on the cheek and casually fetched herself a can of beer from the bar table (which Kevin didn't seem to mind). I noticed she seemed a little bored and deflated, now that her performance was over; perhaps because the spotlight had left her.

I stood close by as she was quizzed by an older man - I think he was her Uncle - about every banal subject a teenager can be asked - college, sports, church, the ocean...

blah

. Her answers were about as banal as the questions, and I wondered if she knew how bored she sounded, or simply didn't care.

It made perfect sense Kevin would have raised a spoiled child. But it made less sense he would have created such a hot one. It probably had more to do with his Swedish wife, who also had a cracking body on her, but was dressed more conservatively, in a tasteful, figure-hugging pantsuit.

Kira took a seat by the food table and ate a piece of fried chicken, sucking the dripping fat from her fingers. I was acutely aware that I was staring and tried to look at something else - the ocean, clouds, a seagull standing on the rail - but

nope,

there I was again, staring at the luscious Kira.

It's tempting to say she was bursting out of her swimsuit, but she was actually quite well covered; it was just that her breasts were so large, they seemed indecent by virtue of their existence.

I went over to the food table to re-serve myself from the elegant buffet - not because I wanted anything, but because Kira was momentarily alone, and I wanted to be closer to her. I pretended to survey the table, selecting something I could face eating again, all the time hoping she might strike up a conversation. She didn't. So when I put a corn cob on my plate, just as I was turning away, I smiled and said, "Pretty good party, huh?"

She looked at me doubtfully.

"Is it?"

she asked. I think she was trolling me, rather than being impolite, because she was smiling as she said it.

"Not really," I confessed in a whisper. She liked this and laughed out loud. God she was beautiful.

Her father called out: "Kira, can you help your mother get some more bottles from the pantry?"

She rolled her eyes in my direction but got up instantly to obey - just like me whenever he asked me to do anything at work. For the first time I found myself wondering what it must be like to have Kevin as a father, especially when you look like Kira. It must suck. Maybe she wasn't a nerd at all. Maybe the piano recitals and gym classes were all foisted upon her. Maybe she was wilder than I could possibly imagine, and loved to drink beer and eat fried chicken, and... and

what else?

The mind boggled.

I tried not to watch her mesmerizing little ass as she walked it away. I was painfully aware that Kevin was standing a few feet from me.

"Well, what do you think, Sam?" he asked, his hand arriving firmly on my shoulder.

What did I think?

Of his daughter's perfectly formed ass, tiny waist and massive tits? Would it be appropriate to say I wanted to stick my face in them and feast until I died?

"Of our little beach house", he added helpfully.

Ah!

Of course.

The little beach house! Wait...

Little?

"Fabulous", I replied. It was the correct answer because he slapped me on the back.

"You are clearly a man with excellent taste", he said. "Let me fetch you another beer".

"Thank you sir," I said.

"They're over at the bar." And he pointed at the designated table, before moving off to circulate among the crew of wealthy and enslaved guests he had assembled.

***

Time passed and it was almost dusk. I hadn't seen the lovely Kira for almost two hours and I missed her. She had disappeared somewhere inside the house, so I decided to search for her, under the ruse of needing to take a piss.

The restroom designated for guests was occupied, so I decided to meander down the hallway farther than I had previously dared. It was a tastelessly big house and the circular corridor seemed to lead to endless generic rooms with their doors closed.

I approached one that I thought might be a bathroom. Suddenly the door opened and Kira startled as she saw me. An unmistakable waft of pot smoke escaped the room, despite the fact she quickly closed the door upon seeing me. She had looked terrified. I imagined her in crisis now behind the door, worrying that I might tell her father.

Far from wanting to tell on her, I was impressed that she was a lot less boring even than I realized. I figured I should probably go back to the party, when the door opened again and she peered out. Her face looked nervous, but she held up a joint. Not a whole one, or even a half; but about a half-inch of one, blackened at the end. It was a peace-offering.

She probably figured she'd been caught anyway and by offering a chance for me to co-conspire, she had a better chance I wouldn't tell anyone. Or maybe she just wanted to share a reefer with me. I wasn't enjoying the party much without her, and there was still another half hour til the fireworks on the beach, so I thought

fuck it

, and slipped through the door she held ajar, entering a huge pink dressing room and bathroom, almost as big as my own apartment. She hurriedly closed the door and handed me the joint.

I held the tiny roach between my fingertips and let her light it, along with, briefly, my fingers themselves. I inhaled a nasty plume of acrid pot smoke. It made me cough straight away.

"Shhh", she giggled, taking the roach and having a long toke on it herself. She handed it back, except it was almost farcical now, what she handed me - a foul smelling filter that although I tried to inhale another hit from it, delivered mostly air and ash. The taste of burnt pot and yellow air whistled into my lungs. But I felt quite a big buzz from the first two hits, which helped cancel out my nausea from this one.

We looked at each other and sniggered. A warm feeling spread across me, and I broke into a laugh. Before long we were both in hysterics, about nothing at all, pained to keep our voices low, which only added to the forbidden hilarity. This was the first good moment of the day. Kira was the only fun person at this entire party.

Who would have thought it.

It was a big house but I had ventured such a circuitous route within it to find her, that we were quite close to the deck again, where everybody was gathered - probably about 20ft away, through the wall. But whether it was the pot or the feeling of temporary relaxation, I didn't care. I let my guard down for the first time since I had driven up the path to their sumptuous home that afternoon.

Out of the blue, and seemingly unprovoked by anything I said, Kira came in close, brought her face to mine, and kissed me tenderly on the lips. A soft, moist kiss that lingered long enough for me to feel it through my body. She tasted as delicious as she looked. We broke off and she cracked up laughing again. But I didn't laugh this time.

I moved in and kissed her again. This time more passionately and for longer; my hands embracing her neck and shoulders. We opened mouths and exchanged tongues. It was electrifying. I don't think I had made out with such a physically beautiful woman in my life. And she was my boss's daughter. I could feel myself growing hard. It was the most foolish and irresponsible thing I had done in a long time, and I felt more alive than in years.

"Would you like me to suck you off?" she broke away to ask me. And although I can't remember answering, the next thing I knew she had maneuvered me to sit on the edge of the bath. Kneeling down, and with a complete lack of ceremony, she unbuckled my belt and yanked my pants and briefs down together. My thick cock sprang out like a jack-in-the-box in her face. She didn't flinch. She just closed her mouth around it and started gently suckling at the tip.

If this wasn't already glorious enough, she reached down and released herself from the upper confines of her swimsuit; first one arm, then the next; her voluptuous breasts escaping one by one - so vast on her tiny frame, the small pink nipples sticking into the air - until she was topless; clad now in only half the American flag, with a brutally large erection between her lips.

I reached down to massage her breasts. They were heavy and solid, and bigger than my hands. She shuffled closer to allow me better access. She also opened her lips wider and began to suck the length of my shaft, easing its entirety into her mouth until it hit a wall and she gagged; it was a miracle she didn't choke. And then, just as casually, she slid it back out again, glistening wet with choke-spit; the whole time her eyes remaining fixed on mine. She repeated this process several times while I played with her heavenly tits.

She released me from her mouth for a moment and leaned over to locate the dregs of the joint in the ashtray. She made six attempts to light it, each one failing, because it was so small there was nothing left to light.

Meanwhile, I was perched there, my heart racing in my chest, wondering what the fuck I was doing - my huge, slick erection sticking straight up into the air. Once she had succeeded in inhaling something satisfactory from the reefer butt, she came back over and inhaled my cock again - virtually the whole thing, in one eager vacuum of her mouth.

I wasn't sure if I had ever been deep throated so successfully or so nonchalantly. She seemed to be able to open the yawn of her mouth, ignore the audible gag reflex, and allow the northernmost tip of my cock to enter her throat. This would cause a minor splutter when it reached the hilt, and a small sick of transparent drool would spill from the sides of her mouth. Only then would she ease my cock back out until it fully emerged, dripping in her slaver, when she would seize the chance to take a deep breath before engulfing its length again. Where the hell had she learned this? And what would her father say if he could see her now?

Kira's exquisite deep throating had summoned up vast amounts of gloop and it lathered her chin, poured down her neck, and coated her big tits in slippery gunk. As if part of a perfectly executed plan, she moved my cock to her oily cleavage and began to use this throat juice to help me fuck her tits.

Still high from the pot, part of me didn't know where I was. it was like I had banged my head on the beach and was having a crazy sex dream in my coma. Whilst another part of me was fully aware this was real, and I was tit-fucking my boss's daughter with her own sex puke in the bathroom of his beach house, while he was only twenty feet away through a wall. And if I wasn't careful, I was about to explode a torrent of cum all over her tits.

With each upward stroke of her breasts, she was able to suck the head of my cock at the same time, so that the harder I thrust, the further I could venture into her mouth. I was just about to have an intense orgasm when we heard a sharp knock on the wall and a voice from just outside.

"Kira honey. Are you in there?" It was her mother.

I froze in terror. My hips paused mid-thrust, my ass lifted from the bathtub.

"What is it Mom?" Kira replied, controlled and calm. Astonishingly, she continued to fuck me with her tits.

"The Fireworks are starting soon", her mother said.

I couldn't hold back and let loose a fountain of cum into her open mouth, followed by another quick torrent over her face.

"Coming!"

she called out to her mother.

It was an extraordinary orgasm, despite the terrifying need to keep it silent. I almost lost my balance and fell back into the bath, my cock pumping out spurts and spurts over her face and showering down onto her tits. She closed her mouth around the tip, if only to control the carnage being inflicted to her face, and let me squirt the final streams down her throat. She drank them dutifully and without difficulty.

"Have you seen Dad's friend, Sam?" her mother asked.

Jesus!

Her mother was still outside the wall!

"Which friend is that?" Kira asked, smiling at me; my sperm dripping from her mouth.

"Oh don't worry, honey. He's probably on the beach." And finally her mother seemed to leave.

Kira made a display of licking her fingers, gathering more of the spunk from her tits and sucking that from them too, as though she was still eating fried chicken on the deck. I was more or less still frozen in shock, but the sight was so erotic that my cock wouldn't go anywhere. It stood there like a monument to history; still slick with cum and spit. And remained rigid and pointing at her, like a loaded gun.

"We better get out there," I said, trying to hide the panic that suddenly took center stage in my mind. I began to frantically pull up my pants and underwear.

"What for?"

she asked.

"The fireworks! Your Mom just said..."

"Whatever," she replied, "we can watch them from here." She pointed to a skylight window above the tub, which revealed a rectangle of blue-dark, early night sky. Then she took my cock in her hand, as rigid and vertical as if it hadn't just erupted, and got down on her knees to blow me again. Seriously, who was this gorgeous woman?

Much as I could have spent the rest of my life being sucked off by her, I wanted to see more of her body while I had the chance. I had spent most of the day imagining what might be hiding beneath that swimsuit, and who knew if I would ever get another opportunity to find out.

Without giving her time to wipe the gloop from her chin, I stood up and spun her around, bending her over the edge of the bath tub. I knelt down and began to remove the remaining half of her swimsuit. The star-spangled banner peeled away from her hairless, pink pussy lips, and she was completely nude.

"I'm on my period," she said. "But you can put it in my butt if you like."

Her exquisite ass was center stage, in front of me; as solid and unwavering as her tits had been, but substantially smaller. I could already see how wet her pussy was, a clear sap dripping from her labia and glueing a tampon string to her lips. Kneeling down, I collected some of the nectar on my tongue and licked it into the brown star of her asshole.

Parting the cheeks of her ass, I slipped the tip of my tongue inside. She let out an involuntary squeal to indicate that it tickled, but soon settled into the sensation, moaning gently and moving up to her tip toes, in order to control the pressure against my mouth. She played with her clit while I face fucked her ass and quite quickly, with little preamble, began to have a huge orgasm. As she came, I moved my tongue to her pussy and caught a mouthful of syrup that poured from her crack. It was the easiest I had ever made a woman cum. Kira appeared to do everything unconsciously and effortlessly, even get herself off.

I could have feasted on her two holes for hours. But I almost had a heart attack when we heard an almighty explosion from somewhere nearby, that shocked me to my senses. I quickly realized what it was. Through the skylight, we saw the multicolored rain of exploding fireworks. The relief was palpable. Kira looked back at me.

"Come on then," she said. And when I looked down, she was spreading her asshole, exposing the tiny black well of her rectum. I gathered up some of the ooze and glop from her pussy with my cock, and tried to gently squeeze it into the hole. The tight cove of her ass contracted against the flesh of my shaft, as though it were alive and sucking me into her bowels.

More cracks and pops followed intermittently from outside, together with hoots and applause from the guests - sounds which only barely masked Kira's gasps, an unmistakable mix of bliss and discomfort. Her fingers rubbed vigorously at her clit, but the rest of her remained rigidly still, hands pressed to the basin of the tub, as if the slightest involuntary movement might cause her ass to split.

I couldn't move much inside her but I didn't need to. The idea alone would probably have been enough, even without the sight and sensation of my bloated cock half-lost in her little ass. I could barely edge it back and forth.

I think I managed about a minute of trying. Just as we reached the crescendo of the fireworks display outside, I felt my orgasm break. A symphony of varicolored illuminations filled the night sky as I shot my own violent rocket of cum deep into her bowels, filling the tight space with such force that it pushed my cock out. The next surge jettisoned into the air and rained across her back. She turned her head to watch me spritzing and erupting further streams over her little ass, soaking and flooding her two holes. It was so blissful that I had to steady myself with her legs, helplessly witnessing my spasming dick spew the last sputters of cream over her cunt.