My Pizza Slut

Blonde

We live in a small Midwestern town on the shores of Lake Michigan. Making a very comfortable living from the small business we own, my wife and I have one child, a stunningly beautiful and extremely intelligent girl named Amanda. This story involves her although in an indirect way. My step-daughter Amanda works part-time at the local Pizza Parlor; a job my wife and I got her because the owners are our clients. We asked them about a summer job when Amanda was sixteen and they told us to send her in. After a formal interview she was hired as a Trainee and went to work the following weekend. Even the part-time help had a few benefits; he first was that employees and their families could buy as much food as they wanted and only paid half price. My little girl making her own money, she could pay for the gas that went in the car we bought her, as well as her shopping trips. She even put every other paycheck in her savings account, so I was happy. But what would prove one day to be the greatest benefit was when Amanda and the young girl who trained her at work and became such good friends. This girl and Amanda soon began hanging out on the weekends when they didn’t work, often finding themselves at our house because I was fairly relaxed with the rules. Sometimes I think back to when Amanda first brought her new friend over to the house; I was working in the garage, putting a pair of new pipes on one of the Harley’s. The bike stood sideways and since I was between it and the back wall, I went unnoticed. I remember glancing through the bike and seeing the blue hood of Amanda’s car, I kept right on working. But when I heard a second door slam shut, I took another look to see who was with her. Standing beside the passenger door was a young girl; wearing dark denim Capri’s that fit her like a second skin, but what made my throat go dry was, quite frankly…her ass. Believe me, I have been an admirer of that particular part of the female anatomy since I can remember and I know a first class ass when I see one. She wore a tight green tank-top that clung to her rounded, perky chest as tightly as a newborn monkey clings to its mother. There was also a white blouse that was completely unbuttoned, covering her shoulders and gently waving in the cool breeze that blew through our yard. I’m talking a teen cover girl type here people; the kind of girl who can pull off twenty-one or twenty-three maybe, but in fact is just over the legal driving age. Whereas Amanda stands well above the roof of her car at 5’8″…Whitney is much shorter, closer to 5 foot 3 inches and 100 pounds. I think it was about then that I broke the silent, almost magical moment by dropping the wrench I’d been holding. The loud noise it made when it hit the concrete floor brought the attention of these two teen beauties directly towards me, as Amanda called out, “Hi Dad! This is Whitney, from work; we’re going to hang out for a while.” I should at this point interject some valuable information on my step-daughter. For one thing, she’s an outstanding student, straight A’s and that’s with all Advanced Placement classes her senior year, too. Another thing is that she’s drop dead gorgeous; 5 foot 8 inches, 120 pounds, hazel eyes, wavy hair down to her perky 34-B chest, and an ass that gets me going in a heartbeat. She’s also a virgin, much unlike most of her friends. I’m proud she’s managed to hold on to her virtue…so far. Whitney however is as far from a virgin as one can get, if all the things my little girl tells me are true. Poking my head out from behind the rear of the bike and watched as Amanda turned and headed towards the house. At the same time, her friend Whitney gave me a small, gentle wave…delicate fingers dancing on the wind, white teeth flashing a bashful smile and then turning to follow my girl inside. Her long, straight black hair swirling about her head as my gaze dropped to watch her cute butt sway back and forth as it slowly disappeared from view. The entire thing may have lasted less than a minute; felt like more than five and left me sweating, shivering and suddenly aching behind my zipper. My God, I thought as I shook my head in disbelief…they didn’t make ‘em like that when I was young! Not long after, my thirst got the better of me and I went inside to see if I could find something to quench it. After downing a cold drink, I wandered down the hallway towards my bedroom, as I’d forgotten the keys to the bike. I stood in the hallway and peered through the 2-inch gap that the girls had left when they swung my daughter’s bedroom door (not quite) closed. I heard soft rock music playing, the chit-chatter of their exchanged words and an occasional giggle. For a moment I was lost in the comfort that Amanda had made a good friend and how valuable that sort of thing is, especially to a teenaged girl who lived out on the outskirts of town. I was suddenly brought back from my daydream to reality when I heard Whitney’s voice say, “Oh, I want to try this top on! Can, I?” To which my daughter must’ve nodded or responded too quietly for me to hear. I took a step forward and then just as suddenly back again, afraid the door would open and they’d catch me standing there with a dopey look on my face, not to mention the thick bulge growing between my legs. Then, just as I was about to return to my garage work, Whitney stepped into my line of view. Her dark hair hung down to the bottom of her shoulder blades as she reached back and pulled the shirt up and over her head, tossing it onto the bed she stood before. With her back to me I could see the thin strap of a white bra just before her long black hair covered it, and then I fixed my pupils lower…on that tight, round little ass of hers. I took a good long look at it, confirming that it was indeed sculpted in perfection, my cock thickening, twitching and rising at a few of the thoughts that filled my middle aged brain. As she turned while pulling one of my step-daughter’s top over her head, I got a side view of her breasts incased in a tight white bra. They were much fuller and larger than Amanda’s, although at her age still had the firmness of youth on their side. I bit my tongue to keep myself from groaning at the sight, and the erotic thoughts that flooded my mind. When I heard what sounded like footsteps approaching from within, I made tracks back out to the garage as quickly and quietly as I could. The image of Whitney’s semi-nude upper body was stuck in my head for good, not that I’d ever willingly forget the image. From Kurtköy Escort that day on I took every opportunity to check out Whitney; whether it be going to pick up pizzas for dinner or when she’d come over to hang out with Amanda. Every single chance I could see her, hear her laughter and talk to her was one I took. Of course I tried not to let my infatuation with the young nymph show because I knew it would cause nothing but problems for me. Besides, I was more than twice her age and knew she’d never look at me in any way other than an old figure and a friend’s father. Besides being any man’s walking wet dream, Whitney always seemed to act a little shy around others. There were times when she and I were alone for just moments and I always thought she flirted and acted more friendly when Amanda was out of earshot, but I could never be sure. Combine that with her hour glass figure, the fact that the top of her head just reached my shoulders and you can image all the possible fantasies I had when she was around. As time went on I often got lost in her bright blue eyes, which were a stark contrast to her pale white skin and jet black hair. They stood out on her face like twin beacons that draw your eyes to them, melting your defenses as well…coincidentally the same way her perky 36-C chest grabbed your attention and beg to be caressed, tweaked and suckled endlessly. On her small frame they looked massive, and I often jerked off while fantasizing about them and her pointy nipples! Weeks went by and turned into months; and throughout that time I tried to never let my interest be too obvious, yet I felt myself drawn to know everything about her I could. Fortunately for me, my step-daughter and I are very close and she shares a lot of things with me, and I with her. We share secrets and I think she likes it that she can talk to me about things her mom wouldn’t approve or have knowledge of. But that’s a different tale, now isn’t it? One of the things I did learn was that Whitney had been dating the same guy for the last year and half, but that every so often they’d have a big argument and break up. During that period she’d go out with other guys until they cooled off; then they’d get back together again. During these cooling off times, my daughter often told me how Whitney acted like a slut, even telling me that Whitney had often told her how much she enjoyed sex! One time she blurted out, ‘She once said she spent an entire afternoon sucking her boyfriend’s dick!’ These types of revelations usually ended up with the two of us in a discussion about sex between boys and girls, something she dared not bring up with my wife. Even though at first I thought it was strange that she’d come to me for advice on sex, I soon realized it was because I told her things the way they were; no bullshit just because she was a virgin and she trusted me because of that. She also told me how Whitney had confided that when she was out with a guy she didn’t want to have sex with, she’d be sure to give him a hand-job or give him a blowjob so the guy wouldn’t go away mad. She told me that Whitney had told her she was always worried about being labeled as a ‘tease.’ Like an overprotective father I quickly told her that Whitney sounded like a slut to me, to which I was informed, ‘oh she doesn’t do anything until after the second date…that’s her rule.’ Kind of a contradiction in terms, I thought but even a promiscuous girl like Whitney did have some rules about when she slept with a guy or so it seemed. Amanda further explained how Whitney told her no one ‘got any’ until the third date…period. Later that day when I’d have a chance to go over our conversation in my head, I realized just how far fetched my fantasies were about her friend. While she was very easy on the eyes…it obviously wasn’t as easy to get into her pants. On a strange note, even though I still regarded her as a tramp, I kind of developed a little respect that she at least waited a little while before she slept with a guy. Another thing I learned was that Whitney loved to party, and by party I mean drink. She wasn’t into wine or beer either, this tiny waif of a woman liked hard liquor and plenty of it. Amanda would describe how her friend would go to drinking parties on the weekends, especially during the times when she broke up with her steady boyfriend. Funny thing is, she sounded more and more like the female version of me when I was in high school and I was amused by the similarities between her and me. Of course I had to downplay this around ‘sweet and innocent’ Amanda because I was walking a tight-rope concerning my attraction towards a girl like Whitney and keeping my own step-child from turning into the very same thing! One time I’ll never forget happened a couple months later that first summer after she came into our lives. I knew that Amanda was planning on going shopping with one of her friend’s that day, but hadn’t thought much of it. I had been out mowing the yard all morning and was putting away the tractor when Whitney pulled into the driveway. We smiled at each other as she hopped out of her car and said our usual ‘hellos’ before it happened. You see, sometimes I have this way of blurting out what’s on my mind before I have a chance to use my head and think ‘should I really say that?’It happens fairly frequently and I usually can cover it up with some humor if it’s taken the wrong way. On this particular day when Whitney had come around the front of her car on the way towards our back door, I noticed her attire or rather lack thereof. All she had on was a pair of sandals, a pair of tight short and a thin white tank top that did everything it could do to accentuate the ripe melons beneath it. She had noticed my sweaty condition and said, “You look like you could use a long, hot shower Mr. Z,” which was a nickname she had begun to call me due to the first initial of my family name. Looking back I can’t say for sure if I’d heard it because of the way my over-sexed brain was wired or if she had actually meant for the words to relay a secret double meaning, as though she’d put more emphasis on the words ‘long hot shower’…but the next thing I knew I was listening to myself say, “It’d be hotter if you joined me.” In a mere ten seconds all of the following details took place and seemed to transpire at a much slower pace than they probably did: I forgot to inhale as I thought about what I’d just said and suddenly hoped that she hadn’t heard me. Too Kurtköy Escort Bayan late; she stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turned around and stood staring back towards me within the shaded garage. I began to see a pictorial; images of my wife looking angry, followed by my daughter looking hurt and then of all my neighbors whispering about me behind my back. Instead of any of those things happening, what I did see and hear had nearly the same shocking effect on me. Whitney’s mouth opened slightly; I noticed the edges of her white teeth, the hint of tongue tip traveling along her lips, playful blue eyes and her hair glistening in the mid-day sunshine as she spoke directly to me and said, “Too bad, I’ve already had my shower today.” Then she spun around and continued on inside the house, all the way shaking her tight little ass in an exaggerated stride that erased all doubts that she was putting on a show for my benefit. I stood still for at least a full minute as I felt the thickness of my sex organ begin to deflate just a tad, not realizing it had swollen that much throughout t he previous minute or two. In the tight cut-offs I wore I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed although I’d seen no evidence thereof. My brain must’ve told my body to breathe again, as I felt the trickle of sweat run from my neck down my back, causing me to shiver as if I were chilled. Or was it the delicious image of the way she strutted for me, knowing my eyes were glued to her shapely backside? I turned and walked to the workbench, leaning my back against it as I replayed the scene over and over. Had she said what I think she said? She must have, I finally concluded, because I surely hadn’t imagined it! But alas, as the hanging wall clock ticked by on its endless circular voyage…I realized that even though the words had come from her, she was certainly only teasing the older father of one of her best friends. I shrugged it off as teenaged folly and went inside the house for that suggested shower. As I walked inside I became aware of just how warm it was outside because I could feel that the air conditioning had come on. The girl’s were in Amanda’s room and I could hear them talking, the music, the laughter and I suddenly began praying Whitney wasn’t in there saying something like, ‘You’ll never guess what your dad just said to me’. But I concluded after a few minutes that she must’ve kept it to herself as I slipped into one of the bathrooms and stripped naked. The hot water felt great on my glistening hot skin as I washed the work of the morning off, and when I emerged from the room I found the house had grown silent; my little girl and her sexy friend must have left for their shopping trip. A couple of months later I was sitting at the kitchen table writing out bills one evening when Whitney had called and asked to speak to our daughter. I’d told her that Amanda was working late and would be a couple hours late. I thought it strange that she was unaware of a schedule change because the two of them were constantly texting or calling each other whenever they weren’t at school or the pizza shop, but I soon forgot about it. Not ten minutes later I heard the sound of a car in the drive and went to see who it was, knowing that my wife wasn’t due back until later that night. I felt a twinge of confusion as I held the screen door open for none other than Whitney and she explained, “I had nothing to do so I thought I’d hang out here until Amanda got home.” At this point, it could be taken a couple different ways; I knew that her home life sucked and maybe Whitney didn’t want to be there for some reason. Perhaps this now seventeen year old young lady, for whatever reason simply liked the idea of hanging out at our house. And maybe, just maybe this elf-sized girl with a centerfold’s body and a mind for erotic escapades (or so I’d been told) wanted to jump my bones and make me a very satisfied fan of hers for life. The idea of being on the receiving end of one of those blow-jobs I’d heard so much about was making me throb even then. But something way in the back of my mind told me that Whitney would never be more than a fantasy because of the way she could turn it off and on for weeks at a time. She sat at the end of the kitchen table and we chatted about things while I finished up with the household paperwork. Each time she looked away I found myself admiring her chest, which was slightly exposed from the semi-buttoned blouse that stretched over them. I knew that she’d caught me sneaking a peek more than once, but since she didn’t seem to mind…I didn’t stop looking. When I offered to get her a soft drink, she quickly hopped up and went to the fridge herself; I watched as she bent over, peering within as if not being able to decide, and I took the opportunity to familiarize myself with every square inch of her perfectly shaped rear end. I must’ve been daydreaming because she looked back over her shoulder and remarked, “Like the view, Mr. Z?” My face turned slightly red, but I boldly answered the question with one of my own by declaring, “What’s not to like?” She straightened up, walked back to the table with a Coke in one hand, and instead of sitting down, she stood right next to where I sat. So close that I had to tilt my head back to look her in her eyes, although when I turned my head to do so, I was nearly eye level with her twin globes and couldn’t help but notice her now protruding nipples. I wondered if it was the cool air from the refrigerator, the sexual tension that had begun as we openly began to flirt or a combination of the two. I warned myself that she was most likely just teasing me; seeing how far she could push me before I backed off, because after all I had far more to lose than she. But I wasn’t about to back down, well…at least not without having some fun myself. “Would you like to pop my top,” she asked. I knew she was talking about the soda can, so I grabbed it without letting my eyes leave her own and said, “I’d enjoy that very much,” as I opened it for her. She took a big gulp and licked her red lips, leaving them looking wet. “Sure would like something stronger,” she quietly said. I considered the fact that Amanda was supposed to drive tonight and that this girl was only seventeen, but I stood up and went to our liquor cabinet. I withdrew a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, pouring a healthy amount into her can and as I returned the bottle I said, “Now I could get busted for giving you that, so Escort Kurtköy I hope I can trust you not to tell.” When I turned to face her, she had stepped forward so that I literally ran right into her, feeling her chest collide with mine for just a moment as she slowly said, “Oh don’t worry, I’m very good at keeping secrets.” Then she took another long drink while she looked up into my eyes, finishing with a sinful smile. Not to back down first, I returned her challenging gaze while telling her, “That’s good to know, Whitney.” We passed the next half hour as if we were playing tennis, but instead of balls we used words and exchanged playful banter back and forth. Then suddenly she suggested I show her my Harley which was parked outside in the garage and we soon found ourselves out there; she admiring the chrome, while I admired her curves. With the main garage door down it was far more secluded than one might think and our conversation continued in the same suggestive way as when we were in the house. At one point she asked me where something was on the bike and I told her it was near the bottom of the frame on the opposite side from where we stood. Instead of going around, I watched as Whitney slowly bent over to see the object in question, laying her flat tummy across the seat and allowing her legs to spread slightly. My cock jumped and pushed against my jeans, causing my mind to conjure up a most devious image indeed as I stared openly at the way her ass was pushed upward in my direction. My desire to touch her then was becoming overwhelming, so I strolled around the bike and stood just in front of her as she lifted her angelic face towards mine, but stopped short when her eyes connected with my covered, but obvious excitement. She slowly stood then, nipples still acutely in need of attention and smiled seductively up in my direction and said, “I sure would like you to take me for a ride sometime,” but the tone was darker than the words portrayed. With one hand twirling a lock of long dark hair in her fingers, she smiled sweetly but didn’t wait for an answer when I didn’t respond fast enough. Whitney asked me bluntly, “Mr. Z, would you like to take me someday?” Those two little words she’d emphasized so strongly I knew she was daring me to react, but fortunately for me I had heard the sounds of a vehicle approaching in our driveway. Most likely it was my daughter due to the time of the evening and she’d be drawn to the garage because of the lights that were on within. I think she thought she’d won; that I wasn’t responding because she’d finally stumped me, but I was simply calculating my comeback so she wouldn’t have time to answer before the approaching footsteps reached us. At the last possible moment I whispered, “I’ve wanted to since I first saw you,” I said. Her eyes widened and her jaw slightly dropped open, but before she could utter a single word Amanda’s face appeared in the open service doorway, “Hi Daddy! Oh, there you are, Whitney. I hope you didn’t wait too long for me.” Whitney turned and went to join her friend saying, “I didn’t mind at all.” Like I said, the next time I had a chance to see Whitney it would be completely the opposite; sometimes she wouldn’t say hello or even look my way. She was very hard to read and moody most of the time it seemed. Three, four visits would go buy and I began to think that the night out in the garage had been as close as I’d ever come to Whitney; although in truth we’d never really touched or made any plans. I went back to my role of a good husband and daddy, living as I always had and keeping my fantasies where they belonged…in my head. After a while I began thanking the Lord that it hadn’t gone any further, even then aware how if it had it may have been the stupidest thing I’d ever done even though undoubtedly one of the most exciting. Fast forward a few months; the Holiday season had arrived and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Oh sure, folks still complain about the cost of everything and grumble through their daily grind, and yet they’re still in a somewhat better mood during that time of the year. I remember my daughter asking if she could have Whitney over on Christmas Eve, even though it’s always been a very strict rule in our house, that on that particular night we only did things as a family. She pleaded with her mom and me, explaining how terrible things were at her friend’s house now, and eventually she wore us down…we relented. After all, soon our little girl (who wasn’t so little any more) would graduate from high school, turn 18 and be off to college, so we figured we had to start loosening the reins sooner or later. When we gave her permission, Amanda looked surprised and we explained our thoughts; I think she realized then that even though we seemed over protective of her, we knew someday soon we’d have to give her up. Whitney arrived and I purposely tried to avert my eyes from her direction whenever possible, simply because if I looked at her too long I was afraid I’d start getting a hard-on. She was then and still is a beautiful young woman, who by every indication wanted to do nothing more than forget about the flirtatious relationship we’d shared up until now. We made sure to have gifts under the tree for Whitney so she was a part of the festivities when that time came due, and even then I had a tough time imagining her not here, because in some ways she’d become so close to our family over the past couple of years. I wondered where that relationship would go when Amanda was off in college and Whitney stayed around here, working and getting on with her life. We knew our daughter was destined for a great life because of her grades, determination and drive for success. It was during that holiday evening; after the drinks, the meal and the presents were opened that I realized she hadn’t just asked for permission for Whitney to join us for the evening but in fact was asking if she could stay the night. Not wanting to be the scrooge and send her home, I went along with it as if it didn’t really matter. And basically it didn’t, except for the fact that the feelings I still harbored for her began to churn within me; my thought returning to the times when she and I would flirt innocently between us, and that one night where there was nothing innocent at all about the innuendo we shared. I couldn’t help but entertain the fantasy about walking in on her while she was taking a shower, being invited to join her and the two of us making passionate love under the steamy spray until we jointly climaxed and…wait, where were my wife and kid during all this? That’s the problem with most fantasies…they never work out in real life. Around midnight I finally convinced my sleepy wife to go to bed, promising that I’d clean up a bit before I joined her.

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