I was getting impatient. I had been in the library for two hours grading papers, but as the hour approached I could no longer concentrate. Distractedly, I browsed the new book shelves, waiting for my cell phone to ring, and then suddenly I heard a young, feminine voice say "Hi." And there she was, smiling coyly, even bashfully, blushing. She had on a stylish trenchcoat that completely covered her dress - or was she even wearing a dress under that? The coat came to mid thigh, and her legs were bare. Ballet flats, some makeup, and a "Hello Kitty" necklace completed the outfit. If a girl could be suggestive and innocent at once, Emily had captured it. I kissed her on the cheek and welcomed her to town.
I had met her only a week or so earlier, when she had contacted me on FetLife. Why me? I was the right age, and I was local. She was a 23-year-old recent college graduate looking for a Daddy, and had found my profile on there. I was twenty-one years her senior. We began to chat shortly afterwards. She was shy and sparing with words, but she was also game to play, and oh so very obedient. Was it our first day chatting that I told her to pull her thong up so that it sat tightly against her clit, rubbing it all through the work day? I think it was, and she did it for as long as she could until the distraction just didn't let her work. The pushback only came when I found out that she had been camming for other men, all of them older than she, none of them local, and I told her I wanted her to cam for me. No, she said, saying she hadn't known me long enough. So I told her that when she got home, she was to read my stories on Litererotica and masturbate to them, making sure to report what she did to herself, and send pictures along with the report. I logged on that night not expecting to find her, and found an email saying she had read my stories, that she needed to cum, and that she wanted to do it for me on cam. I knew then she was becoming my plaything.
Two days later, she was there in the library, having driven an hour to meet me. And she knew why she was there. I was going to take her to my office and fuck her. We made our way to her car, to make sure it was parked in an OK spot. When I slipped the money for the parking in her trenchcoat pocket, I could feel the heat rising from her pussy, and knew she was ready for me, and eager. We made our way to the office, along with crowds headed for the football game. I noticed some glances from people who wondered what we were up to.
A drunk even asked me directly, "Is that your woman?"
I made up an answer, when what I really wanted to say is "No, she's my little girl. We've only just met in person for the first time, but I'm going to fuck her brains out."
Once in the building, I had her wait while I headed into the office ahead of her. I wanted to make sure there was no one around, and I wanted to be sitting at my desk when she came in. I heard her footsteps down the hall, and my heart pounded. She was only moments away from becoming my fucktoy. In she walked, indistinguishable from one of my students coming in to get a form signed or to ask for help with a paper. There I sat, at my desk, just as I would if it were office hours. I hold her to come in and close the door, and to take her trenchoat off. My plan had been to have her strip for me right away, but I just couldn't. She looked too pretty. She had told me she thought of herself as stylish, and took care in picking her clothes, and now I could see how true this was. The dress she wore was perfect. A one piece cotton affair with a high waist and a very open neckline. The top was a shade of . . . and the bottom was a floral print. So girly. So pretty. Her straight blonde hair came to her shoulders, and her bangs hung just above her pretty blue eyes. I knew I would have to wait to take that pretty dress off.
I got up, took her in my arms, and kissed her, as I let my hands travel to her ass. She had not been shy about sending me pictures, gorgeous, revealing pictures that had kept my desire at the boiling point for days. I wanted to kiss her mouth, caress her shapely ass, taste that amazing pink pussy. In time, though. In time. I let my hands wander down and I could feel that there was nothing but the skimpiest thong under that dress, and I imagined it was very wet. I pulled away, looked her up and down, and instructed her to sit in my reading chair. She did so, with a smile. Such a good little girl . . .
