Is This Your Girl?

"I just hope we don't have to do another group project. The last one was a disaster.

"Ugh, don't remind me. You know, I still think Sarah was lying. There was g on her Facebook or Twitter, and she didn't seem all that sad."

"Well, I wasn't going to call her out on a dead grandma."

Connor walked along with Kayla and Stacy, idly listening to their conversation. The trio had just finished lunch, and now the two girls were heading to class.

For me, it'll be the usual Tuesday afternoon routine of nap and then gym.

"Want to come with me to the library after class?" Stacy asked Kayla. "I need to look up some stuff for my thesis, and I'd like some company to keep from burning the place down."

"Sure. I should probably start doing that too. Looking up stuff, not burning the library down."

"Eh, you'd be doing everyone a favor. Then they could build something that doesn't look like a prison."

"True. I'd be a hero."

"You're done with class for the day, right?" Stacy asked Connor then.

Kayla answered before him.

"He'll probably take a nap and then go to the gym. That's his usual Tuesday afternoon schedule." He grinned at her, and then glanced over to Stacy.

"What she said."

The academic building the girls' class was in waited further down the path.

Kayla stopped just before the front door to give him a kiss.

"See you two at dinner?" he asked the duo.

"You got it," Kayla said.

"Enjoy your nap," Stacy added.

"You two enjoy your class."

They grimaced, and then turned to enter the building.

It took some restraint for Connor to keep his eyes from focusing on Kayla's ass, round and shapely as it was, especially in the leggings she was wearing.

Once she was out of sight, he continued to his dorm, the combination of lack of sleep and a hearty lunch making his eyelids feel heavy.

Sleep arrived almost as soon as he laid down.

The nap was restful, and he was tempted to forgo the gym today in exchange for a few more hours.

But his responsible side won out, so he heaved himself from his bed, and changed into an old t-shirt and gym shorts. The day had been chilly, but the fitness center was a short walk away.

I should check my email before I go. Just in case Professor Cabrera got back to me.

There was nothing from his academic advisor, but at the top of his inbox was an email from Isaiah.

The subject title was [Is this your girl?]. In the body was a link: [click here -- not a joke].

Raising an eyebrow, he typed a quick reply.

[Is this spam or something?]

After a few minutes, which he spent checking Twitter, he returned to his email, to find Isaiah's reply.

[Not a joke, dude. Click the link, watch the video, and tell me what you think.]

He frowned.

Isaiah had been his friend since grade school, and although he had strayed from religion at college, he was still loyal and dependable.

Connor clicked the link.

A new tab opened, so he clicked on it.

The name of the website was unfamiliar.

But a video began to load. Its title was 'Daddy Makes His Bitch Feel Better'.

What the fuck?

He immediately closed the tab and picked up his phone.

His anger got the better of him when Isaiah answered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Did you watch it?"

"No! Why would I watch it?! And what the fuck does 'is this my girl' mean? What are you trying to say, asshole?"

"Dude, just watch it."

"No! I can tell you right now that's not my girl. Seriously, not funny."

"Just watch the video. Please. Trust me, man."

Connor hesitated.

It struck him then that his usually irreverent friend had not sounded so serious in a long time.

Not since his grandma's funeral.

"Dude. Trust me on this. I'm not joking, I wouldn't do that to you. I want to know if I'm wrong. I hope I am. Watch the video and call me back."

With that, Isaiah hung up.

Connor thought for a little while.

If he is joking, he is very committed.

The link stared back at him.

This isn't her. It's some girl who looks like her.

He clicked on the link.

Again, a new tab opened, so he clicked on it.

'Daddy Makes His Bitch Feel Better' started to load, and then began to play.

His heart dropped.

A girl who looked exactly like Kayla was sitting on a nondescript bed, wearing a pink and white striped t-shirt, and black jean shorts.

Kayla has a pink and white striped t-shirt. And black jean shorts.

The camera was focused on Not-Kayla. A slight pout gave her a forlorn expression.

"What's wrong?" a deep voice asked from behind the camera.

She sighed dramatically.

When she spoke, Connor felt his heart drop lower.

"I've had a long day," she complained, her voice a perfect match for his girlfriend's.

"Do you want Daddy to make you feel better?" the deep voice asked.

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded excitedly.

"Please, Daddy. No one can make me feel good like you can."

What the fuck?

"Alright, then. Take off your clothes."

Not-Kayla crossed her arms, a blush coloring her cheeks now.

"I'm shy," she whined.

"I don't care, baby girl. I want the people to see your body."

Connor watched, expecting that she might show some defiance, that she might gather some willpower and storm off.

This is probably some stupid joke. Maybe it was Isaiah's idea. Find some girl who looks like Kayla and have her do this video.

And then she took her shirt off and threw it offscreen.

He felt his heart drop even lower, by now in the pit of his stomach.

A tattoo peeked out from her right bra strap: three little black bird silhouettes in flight.

Just like Kayla's tattoo.

"Now the bra."

Connor gulped nervously as she obeyed the voice.

In the two-plus years he and Kayla had been dating for, he had yet to see her even half-naked. The closest he had gotten was last year, during a drunken make-out session in her room after a party they had gone to, when the alcohol-induced lack of judgement had led him to take her shirt off, revealing round breasts encased in a pink bra. That sight had somehow stirred his dormant restraint, and he had stopped the proceedings immediately. Despite her cajoling, that restraint had won out, and he had gone back to his room with an aching cock, but otherwise relieved that he had kept his virginity in the face of such temptation.

It did not escape his notice that the bra Not-Kayla was wearing in the video was also pink.

Lots of girls have pink bras, though. Right?

He watched as she undid that bra. A theatrical shyness again showed itself as she cupped it close to her chest.

"Let's see those tits," the voice said.

Connor squirmed at the crassness of those words. There was an authority there as well, one that Not-Kayla respected.

The bra fell forward.

Her breasts were round and perky, their youthful flesh looking so soft and succulent, crowned with light pink areolas, which were in turn crowned by darker pink nipples, the twin buds stiff. Connor felt his cock twitch as the camera moved closer, letting those breasts dominate the screen.

After a moment, the camera moved back, and then a dark-skinned hand came into view.

Not-Kayla moaned as it caressed at her breast, the brown skin contrasting with her paleness.

"Look at these tits. Fucking perfect."

The hand went to the other breast, but instead of caressing, it slapped at the pert mound.

She squealed in surprise. Three more slaps followed, setting the flesh to a hypnotic jiggle.

Connor felt his cock twitch again. A heat was creeping up his neck.

The camera drew back then.

"Now the shorts."

Biting her lip, Not-Kayla stood, and turned to show off her ass, imprisoned by the shorts.

Another familiar sight caught his eye.

A tattoo ran down the back of her left leg, a red rose with a green, thorny stem.

This is a messed-up joke...

His attention was drawn back to her ass as she undid the shorts and slowly slid them down her tanned legs. Lush cheeks were quickly revealed, a pink thong separating them.

The shorts were soon puddled around her feet, and she kicked them aside.

The camera moved closer again and the dark-skinned hand came back into view.

"An ass like this shouldn't be covered up."

It landed a hard slap on one of the cheeks, making her squeal, the flesh rippling from the impact. Five more slaps, and the cheek was reddened, Not-Kayla whimpering as she stood there, at the mercy of that hand. The other cheek was then treated to the same six slaps.

"Fucking look at it..."

"You like it?" she asked, shamelessly wiggling her ass.

"I love it," he told her, squeezing at one of the cheeks.

Connor squirmed. That heat was past his neck by now and spreading through the rest of his body. Arousal accompanied its spread.

"Now the thong."

Not-Kayla slid it off and kicked it aside to join her shorts.

"Turn around. Let's see that pussy."

The crassness made Connor squirm again.

Not-Kayla turned, sat on the bed, and let her legs fall open.

His cock jumped at the sight of her sex, the pink folds glistening with wetness.

This can't be Kayla. She would never do this. This is some girl who looks like her.

That hand came back into view, and two fingers teased up the slit. She bit her lip, moaning softly.

The fingers gathered some of that liquid arousal, and then the hand went back behind the camera.

"How do I taste?" Not-Kayla asked hopefully.

"Mm, delicious."

She giggled giddily.

The hand reappeared, and this time the two fingers pushed their way inside the slit, drawing a mewl from her. The camera captured both the penetration and the look on her face.

The fingers worked steadily. She leaned back, another mewl spilling out, and spread her legs wider.

"Is Daddy making you feel good?"

"Mm-hmm, so good, Daddy, so good..."

She sat there, alternating between looking above the camera and down at those fingers, her cheeks flushed pink, her breasts heaving to the rhythm of her shallow breaths, her tongue sneaking from her mouth to run over her lips.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

A chuckle came from behind the camera.

The fingers carried on the stimulation, curling and caressing. Her hips bucked occasionally, presumably at a strong burst of pleasure, those quick, sudden movements making her breasts jiggle, drawing Connor's eyes to them each time.

His cock ached in his boxers.

This isn't her. It can't be.

A slick sound reached his ears from the video, and he suddenly realized that it was caused by those fingers squishing through the juices flowing from that slit. The duo of digits inside it pushed deeper now, lodging themselves to the palm. Not-Kayla moaned weakly, still conflicted between watching those fingers work and staring past the camera, an expression of desperate need on her face.

Another chuckle came from behind the camera, and then those fingers sped up.

"I'm going to cum, Daddy," she mewled soon. "I'm going to cream all over your fingers."

"Go ahead, baby girl."

She mewled again.

A few seconds passed, and then she squealed, her hips up bucking against the fingers. Her needy look was replaced by one of delirious ecstasy. A shudder ran down her figure, setting her breasts to more gentle jiggling.

The fingers slipped out as that shuddering continued. The camera moved closer to her, showing off the drenched folds.

And then it pulled back.

The fingers came into view again and went to her mouth. She opened it obediently, letting them push inside. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked eagerly, tasting herself. A shiver ran down Connor's spine at that shameless display.

"How do you taste?"

"So good," she answered breathlessly, licking the fingers now, giving the camera a saucy smirk as she let her tongue roam around the digits, thorough in her search for her own juices.

Once she finished, the hand disappeared behind the camera.

For a few seconds, the only thing on screen was a naked Not-Kayla, sitting back on the bed with a satisfied look plastered across her face. Connor could not help but notice certain details, the pink blush on her cheeks, the lewd way she licked her lips, the slight trembling of her fingers as they let go of the bedsheets.

"Did Daddy make you feel better?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, Daddy, you made me feel so good, thank you..."

"My pleasure, baby girl."

She smiled, her pretty features rendered more so by the pure delight there.

"Now, it's your turn. Make me feel good."

The happy smile became a mischievous smirk, and then the video cut to a slightly different point of view.

Connor's eyes widened.

Jesus Christ, that thing is huge!

The camera was now pointed down at Not-Kayla. Jutting up from the bottom of the frame, aimed right at her face, was a long, thick cock.

As he marveled at its size, he found himself struck again by the contrast of skin tones, Not-Kayla mostly tanned but still far lighter than that dark brown beast.

With a soft coo, Not-Kayla leaned forward, and ran her tongue along the underside of the meaty shaft.

More soft coos came as she licked from tip to base several times.

At the end of one such lick, she went further down past the base.

A wet sound followed.

Oh my god...

Connor shifted uncomfortably in his chair, watching a girl who looked like Kayla suck on this stranger's balls. Her eyes stared right at him, that hazel gaze so familiar.

I shouldn't be watching this. It's disgusting.

His finger moved to the 'x' icon in the corner of the screen, but then hesitated.

Isaiah did ask me to watch it. I should at least watch until I'm absolutely sure it's not her.

"That's it, baby girl, suck those balls."

The eager slurping was loud and obscene. Her hand snuck between her thighs.

Connor shifted in his chair, his cock hard and straining in his boxers.

After almost a minute, Not-Kayla moved off those testicles, and quickly closed her saliva-slicked lips around the broad head, her hand wrapping around the base at the same time. That hand slid up the shaft as those lips sucked, stimulating that ebony member at two different spots.

Her eyes were still fixed on the camera, that heated gaze making Connor shudder.

This stranger was not shy about voicing his pleasure, offering husky growls, low groans, and plenty of praise.

"That's it, suck that dick, such a good girl..."

"Yeah, you know how I like it, just like that..."

"That's a good girl, yeah, make Daddy feel good..."

Not-Kayla slid her lips an inch or so further down. Her hand stroked lazily, while the other worked steadily between her thighs.

Only a few seconds passed before she took more into her mouth. For a short time, her attention was on the task before her, sparing Connor from that heated gaze.

"Good girl, that's it..."

That hand came back into view, caressing at her cheek with a few fingers. She glanced back up at the affectionate touch, the half-lidded sultriness of her gaze incredibly erotic, making Connor shudder more even thought it was not intentionally directed at him.

Another downward effort, and half of that shaft was past her lips.

How much more is she going to take? There's no way she can do all of it.

His cock jumped at the thought of that possibility.

A few seconds passed, with Not-Kayla content to suck at the amount currently in her mouth.

And then she drove down again, passing the halfway point.

His eyes widened again at the sight of this girl who so closely resembled his girlfriend stretching her lips around this massive shaft.

There's no way she can take every inch...right?

She took in another inch. Down between her thighs, her hand was moving steadily, while the other had stopped stroking and was closed around the base of the shaft.

"Good girl," the voice murmured.

The next downward effort was more arduous; she barely managed to advance at all. A choked moan came from her packed mouth.

She shut her eyes tight, as if gathering herself, before opening them again, a bright fervor in those hazel orbs.

"Good girl, you can do it..."

Her hand left the base of the shaft now and braced against this stranger's thigh.

She tried to take in more but failed to win more than a quarter inch or so.

The fervor in her eyes blazed hotter, but when the next attempt a few seconds later also proved unsuccessful, it died down, replaced by a troubled sadness. Her eyes glanced up at the camera, seeming to offer some wordless excuse or apology.

"Take your time, baby girl."

After a few more seconds, she tried again.

The attempt was to no avail. A weak gurgle came from down in her throat.

She brought her mouth back up. Inch after inch of that beast slid into view, its ebony meat gleaming with her saliva. The head popped out with a lewd sound, connected to her lips via several viscous strands of drool.

The strands broke as she sucked down air, coughing a few times, her bleary gaze aimed behind the camera.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whined between coughs, "I'm sorry, please let me try again..."

"Of course I'll let you try again! Did you really think I'd tell you to stop? Shit, we've trained your throat. I know you can do it. You probably just got nervous about swallowing my dick in front of all these people."

A watery-eyed smile replaced her desolate expression.

"Why don't you catch your breath?"

She nodded, and then cooed as the hand that had been at her cheek went to her breasts. Her back arched, pushing them forward to let it roam as it pleased. The stranger took his time in appreciating the youthful pertness there, rubbing at those stiff nipples, stroking at the pale flesh around those pink nubs, capturing an entire breast in his grip and kneading at it. Everything he did was met with delight from Not-Kayla.

"You like my tits?"

Connor felt a slick wetness in his boxers, his cock now leaking pre-cum. The heat ruling his body was not diminishing in the slightest.

"Oh yeah. I could play with these all day long."

Not-Kayla giggled.

The dark-skinned hand retreated a few seconds later.

"Alright now. Just focus on taking every inch. You can do it, baby girl, I know you can."

Her smile widened at his encouragement.

And then she sidled up to that cock and took a deep breath.

Over the next minute or so, her mouth slid down the shaft, slowly but surely returning to its previous limit. Connor watched as inch after inch returned to her throat.

He said they trained her throat. So, she's had to have done this before. Maybe multiple times...

When Not-Kayla reached what had been her previous limit, she aimed a steely, determined gaze at the camera.

There's no way she can take the rest of it.

That gaze seemed to zero in on him, as if she could somehow read his thoughts through space and time. Her lips twitched, and then dropped lower, almost a half-inch. One hand was back down between her legs, working subtly, while the other was still braced on one of the stranger's muscular thighs.

"That's it, baby girl, that's it," the voice murmured, that familiar hand coming back into view to caress at her hair.

Another half-inch was quickly conquered, and then another, and then another.

Connor was transfixed.

The camera pushed closer, ensuing that Not-Kayla's face dominated the screen, the remaining inch or so of cock at the bottom of the frame. A muffled moan came from her, followed by an obscene gurgling. The strain she was under was evident, from the wateriness of her eyes, the sweat dappling her brow, the obscene gurgling that became a wet retching as she swallowed that final bit.

The determination in her eyes was replaced by a victorious glee, even as she continued to choke around that formidable length of flesh.