I absolutely love those Sundays when daddy has his friends over to watch the game. The house fills with the smell of beer and wings, and all those deep, manly voices rumbling about touchdowns and fumbles. I don't give a damn about football, but I pretend to be so interested, asking questions about plays and teams just so I have an excuse to bounce around the living room.
My favorite outfit is this tiny little skirt that barely covers my ass and a tight tank top that's always threatening to let my tits spill out. Every time there's a "big play," I jump up and down, making sure my breasts jiggle just right. I can feel all their eyes on me, even when they're trying to pretend they're watching the game.
The best part is watching them try to hide their erections from my daddy. They'll suddenly need to adjust their position on the couch, or grab a pillow to cover their laps. Sometimes one of them will "accidentally" drop something so they have to bend over, trying to discreetly rearrange themselves. Daddy's so clueless, just focused on the game while his friends are all getting hard for his little girl.
Last week, I "accidentally" spilled some soda on my shirt and had to change right there in the living room. I made sure to take my time, slowly pulling the wet fabric over my head so they all got a good look at my bare breasts. I thought Mr. Henderson from next door was going to choke to death right there on our couch.
Daddy just laughed and said, "Kids, right?" while all his friends shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide how turned on they were. It's such a power trip knowing I can make all those grown men so flustered with just a little bit of teasing.
Last Sunday was different. Mr. Henderson, the one who looked like he was going to choke on his beer when I changed my shirt, followed me into the kitchen when I went to get more chips. The moment I stepped through the doorway, he was right behind me, pressing the door closed. The noise from the living room suddenly seemed very far away.
"You've been a very bad girl, haven't you?" he growled, his voice low and rough. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, smell the beer on his breath. He trapped me against the counter, his hands on either side of me, caging me in. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mix of fear and excitement.
"I don't know what you mean," I whispered, but I could feel myself getting wet already.
He just chuckled, a dark, predatory sound. "Bouncing around in that little skirt, making those tits of yours bounce for everyone. Teasing all of us while your daddy sits right there. You know exactly what you're doing."
His hand came up to my throat, not squeezing, just holding me there, making it a little harder to breathe. "Bad girls need to be punished," he said, his other hand sliding up my thigh, pushing my skirt up. His fingers brushed against my panties, and I couldn't help but gasp.
"Please," I whimpered, not sure if I was begging him to stop or to continue.
"Please what?" he asked, his fingers tracing the edge of my panties. "Please stop? Or please punish you like the little cock tease you are?"
I didn't have to answer. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, letting them fall to my ankles. Then he turned me around, bending me over the kitchen counter. I could hear him undoing his belt, the metallic clink making me shiver.
"Since you like bouncing so much," he grunted, positioning himself behind me, "let's see how much you bounce when I'm fucking you."
He entered me in one hard thrust, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. He was bigger than I expected, stretching me open as he started pounding into me. Each thrust pushed me against the counter, the edge digging into my hips. It was rough and painful and so incredibly good.
"Is this what you wanted?" he panted, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. "You wanted all of us to fuck you? To use you like the little tease you are?"
I could only moan in response, pushing back against him, taking him deeper. The sounds from the living roomācheers, groans, the announcer's voiceācreated a strange soundtrack to our forbidden encounter. The risk of getting caught, of daddy walking in at any moment, made it even more thrilling.
He reached around to rub my clit, and I came instantly, my body shaking with the force of it. He wasn't far behind, thrusting hard one last time before filling me with his cum. We stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he pulled out and quickly tucked himself back in.
I pulled up my panties, feeling his cum already starting to leak out of me. He straightened my skirt and gave my ass a hard slap.
"Now go back out there," he said with a smirk. "Next time, be a good girl or I'll have to punish you again."
I walked back into the living room on shaky legs, my face flushed. Daddy didn't even notice, too focused on the game. But Mr. Henderson watched me the rest of the afternoon, a knowing smile on his face.
This morning it's Sunday again, I'm laying out my shortest skirt with my knee high white socks and a thin white tee cut off so short you can see the bottom of my tits. I hope Mr. Henderson likes it.
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