Chapter 49: Dahlia

I’m still naked and at the main entrance when Dahlia walks up behind me. She wraps her arm around me and grabs hold of my dick, saying, “I hope you left some for me.”

“Don’t worry. I have a big date planned and will have time to recharge before we do that.”

I turn my head and give her a light kiss, then tell her, “Go put on a sundress. I have the perfect date planned for you.”

We part to get ready. I wait patiently for Dahlia in the living room. An hour later, she comes out wearing a light sundress. Her nipples are sticking out. I ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to put on a bra.”

She has a wicked smile as she says, “No, not this time.”

“We are going to be out in public and people you know will likely see you.”

“I don’t care.”

I start to think maybe I have planned the wrong date. Dahlia has always acted like the perfect princess and made me believe that she wants the same type of princess date a typical Mormon girl wants. It is only in private that she has been randy, until now. I just shake my head and decide to go with my original plan. We can modify it later if we need to.

In the driveway sits the same convoy as last night. We get into the limo. As soon as the car starts moving, she takes my hand and places it under her dress onto her bare pussy. She is as wet as a river. I pull my hand back and put it under my nose for a whiff. Then I suck her juices off my finger. This causes her to groan.

The limo takes us to Fort Rodd Hill. This time, I take her up to the Belmont battery. There is a secluded spot few people know about, just down the hill, away from the guns. She isn’t shy about rubbing her groin against me or playing with her chest as we walk through the park, in plain view of everybody. One woman scowls and takes her boy away as he tries to watch Dahlia, trying to figure out what she is doing.

Before I get the blanket spread out, I can smell how hot she is.

“I guess you want something a little different than I planned.”

“I don’t know what has come over me. I was hot last night, knowing you were with Carol. This morning when we all had to listen to you and Kim, I couldn’t keep my hands off myself. It was all I could do not to jump Kevin or his dad. I was ready for one of the guards. Then, walking through the park, every person that saw me just made me that much hotter. The mother that took her boy away made me cream myself.”

“I suppose you don’t want the chicken sandwich I brought you.”

“The only thing I want is your salami.”

“I’m not superman. I don’t have a superdick. Give me time to recharge.”

“Oh, but I need you now.”

“I tell you what. Take the dress off, and I will eat you out. We’ll relax and have lunch then have a romantic walk along the gorge. We’ll finish off the night at the hotel and wake up early enough for you to go to church.”

“Will Mom and Sam let us stay out all night?”

“They insisted on it.”

Without another word, she stands up so that the guards can clearly see her, then drops her dress to the ground. Her brain becomes mush, and she can’t think enough to sit down, out of sight. I stand up and kiss her, then guide her onto the blanket. She has never been loud when we fooled around before. This time, it is different. She is almost as loud as Kim.

I don’t waste time, heading straight for her honeypot. Walking through the park was more than enough foreplay for her. In minutes, she is screaming at the top of her lunges. Her legs clamping onto my head are the only things protecting my hearing. When she finally let go, I look up to see a devilish grin across her face. At least she is sated, for now. I crawl up her body and kiss her as she tastes her juices for the first time.

We lay there for the next hour, in each other’s arms, slowly feeding one another. Dahlia doesn’t bother putting her dress back on, so I gently and slowly explore her body. When we are finished, she stands up, once again in full view of our guards and then puts her dress back on. I am packing up the blanket, and she says, “There seems to be somebody waiting to speak with us.”

I finish putting away our picnic and blanket, then stand up to see a park official. I hand the basket to a guard then walk over to the gentleman. He says, “This is a family park. I appreciate you being discrete enough to pick a place where nobody would see or bump into you, but we can’t have the screaming. If that is what you are going to do here, I have to ask you not to come back.”

“I understand, thank you.”

This time, Dahlia behaves herself, walking through the park. In the car, it is a different story. She is on me in a flash. I keep it to necking and petting, but she wants more. We get to the gorge and exit the car. As soon as the limo leaves, I realize what a mistake it is to take her for a walk. Every chance she gets, she flashes me. At first, it is just a tit, when nobody can see. Then it is both tits. It takes little time before she is comfortable enough that she doesn’t care if somebody else sees.

Before long, she is panting heavily and not able to keep up. She stops and says, “Just look at how wet I am.” She lifts the hem of her dress, showing the world her sloppy cunt, as she has a mini orgasm.

I need to do something about this, but I don’t know what. I face Dahlia and pull her dress back down, then smack her ass, harder than when I am playing around.

“Awe, what did you do that for?”

“I have to do something to get you under control.”

“Well, you didn’t need to do that. Besides, it didn’t work.”

She pops her tits out to prove her point.

“Craig, Come with us.”

I pull her behind some bushes, then direct Craig, one of our guards, “Cuff her hands in front of her then place your jacket over her cuffed hands.”

“If I take my jacket off, my shoulder holster will be on display.”

“Would you rather your charge, who happens to be a minor, be arrested for indecent exposure?”

“I suppose you have a point.”

He quickly cuffs her, then takes his jacket off, placing it over her hands.

Dahlia speaks up, “OK, OK, you made your point.”

“I doubt I have. Until you can learn to control yourself, this is the last time I take you anywhere when you are randy.”

So much for a romantic walk. We briskly head to the rendezvous with the limo. I don’t trust Dahlia to behave herself, so, once we are in the limo, I leave the cuffs on.

I talk with the guards and let them know the change of plans. At the north end of Victoria proper, there is a motel where the windows of some of the rooms face other hotel rooms and are not exposed to the general public. It is our new destination. One of the guards rides ahead to rent a room.

Sitting in the car, she plays with herself through her dress. When she notices me looking at her with a bit of anger, she explains, “Having me walk around in public with handcuffs on turned me on even more. You have made me so hot I can’t control myself.”

“If you feel like you need to expose yourself, I can arrange for you to do it safely. If I catch you doing it when you don’t have your bodyguard or me there to protect you, I will be seriously pissed. This was not the time or place to behave like that. You have one last chance. If you do anything before we are in our room, we will turn around, and you will have to wait two weeks before I will try again. If you behave, I will treat you like the whore you want to be. It is your choice. Frankly, I wanted something better for your first time.”

My little rant causes her to have another mini orgasm. This girl is out of control and is beginning to remind me of my sister. Not only is thinking of a sister in a time like this off-putting to a guy, but I hate my sister, so it is even worse.

When the car stops, we get out, and I adjust the jacket, so it looks like she is carrying it and not that it is there to hide her restraints. I then wrap an arm around her shoulders, trying to make things look natural. This time she behaves herself. She does rub her thighs together, but she says and does nothing inappropriate.

Craig brings me the key and tells me the room number. I guide Dahlia up to the room and open the curtains. Craig takes her cuffs off and leaves the room. I look at her and say, “Strip.”

She doesn’t hesitate. She drops her dress faster than I thought possible.

“Stand in the window while I get undressed.”

She does just that as I slowly remove and fold my clothes neatly. I place them on the dresser and tell her, “Pick up your dress, fold it and put it with my clothes. Then take your shoes off and mount me.”

As she folds her dress, I get on the bed and lay on my back, in full view of the window. Only people in the rooms across from ours can see in, but it is enough it should excite her.

What pisses me off next is she starts calling me, sir. I was an enlisted man in the Navy. Calling me sir is an insult. Officers were required to have a degree, no matter what the degree was. The exception was engineering officers needed engineering degrees. It could be a chemical or bio-chem degree as long as it was engineering. It meant the officers would be educated, but they knew shit about their jobs. To make matters worse, they were only given a short stint on ships. Take an engineering officer, for example. In 20 years, they only spend three short stints onboard a ship. The longest of which was typically 18 months. Better than half of that, the vessel was tied up alongside. An enlisted marine engineer was posted to a ship for all except three stints. The longest of which is 18 months. You got a guy with a maximum experience of 3.5 years in charge of a guy with a maximum experience of 36 years.

Since the officer typically wanted to make a name for himself, he would try to improve things, changing the way things were done on the ship. The problem was, he knew shit about the things he was changing and often only ever made the lives of the enlisted men a living hell. To make matters worse, my generation everybody had degrees, and not all educated people were signing up to be officers. You could get a combat officer, with a degree in basket weaving, in charge of an enlisted man with a degree in computer systems analysis. The difference between the enlisted man and officer was, the officer was lucky enough to be recruited from an office that didn’t meet its quota for officers. Since people with reasonable degrees could find work easily, many recruiting offices could only come up with recruits that had shit degrees. For the longest time, there were ten shit officers for every good one. Calling me sir, pisses me off in the extreme.

I am already pissed at Dahlia, and her reply to my telling her to pick up her clothes is to say, “Yes, sir.” I’m ready to call it quits and go home.

“Last chance. Call me sir again, and we are going home. If you have to call me something, try Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

When she is done, she jumps on the bed and straddles my waist. To her disappointment, I am the softest I have ever been. To her, it is no big deal. She scoots down and starts sucking. She has always known how to give good head and has learnt a lot about how to arouse me over the last few months. Even still, it takes her a good ten minutes to make me hard. When she does, she impales herself hard and fast. I am almost all the way bottomed out on her first lunge. It makes her scream in pain. Ordinarily, I would feel sorry for her, but not today, not the way this date has gone.

She holds still for a while. Then she leans forward and lays on top of me, kissing me with more passion than she ever has before. In contrast, I kiss back with the least enthusiasm I have ever shown her.

Once she is comfortable, she sits back up and starts riding me. Typically, her beauty alone would do it for me, but she has me angry, and I have a temper. It is difficult for me to let go of things. I figure I will use my anger to give her what she wants.

“That is enough. Get off me. Stand two feet away from the window, then lean forward and brace yourself against it. I want your back arched and your ass sticking out.”

“Yes, si ... I mean, Master.”

She jumps off me with all haste and gets into position.

“How am I supposed to fuck you like that? Spread your legs apart.”

Her legs part and I can see the blood that drips out of her cunt.

“Press your tits up against the window.”

“Yes, Master.”

As she does, she arches her back more, giving her ass a rounder and much more delicious look. I step up to her and ram my cock inside her. She loves it and moans in approval. In the past, I only ever fantasized about hate-fucking girls I hated. I hate-fuck her for all I am worth. It feels strange hate-fucking a girl I love, especially since I am taking her virginity. I don’t care. I just keep ramming into her backside. My balls keep swinging up and hitting her in the clit.

She is so consumed, she doesn’t notice my hostility. She just keeps saying things like, “Thank you, Master. Oh, harder, please, Master. Mmmmm, just like that. Oh, yes.”

Her sensitive nipples rub all over the window. Before I am ready, she is cumming non-stop. She has orgasm after orgasm as I pound her into the window for over a half-hour. By the time we finish, we have a small audience.

After I finally cum, I pull out and tell her, “Use your mouth and clean me up.”

“Yes, Master”

She is quick to her knees and doesn’t hesitate to stick my cock in her mouth, despite it being covered in our combined juices and her blood.

“I said clean it, not suck it.”

It takes considerable concentration not to call her things like bitch and slut.

“Sorry, Master.”

Since she has thoroughly cleaned the shaft, she starts licking my bag clean and then the rest of the area. Once again, I feel like she has done this before. She is methodical in her efforts. When I figure she has done a good enough job, I back away from her and throw her the dress.

“Put it on. We are going home.”

“But why?”

“Cause I said.”

I then start getting dressed. The ride home is done in silence.

When we get home, she starts to ball her eyes out, and she runs to her room. Sam and Zlata are in the living room, cuddled up and watching a movie. Zlata runs after her daughter. Sam stands up and asks me, “What happened? I thought you were supposed to be gone until morning.”

“The perfect date wasn’t so perfect. It was a lot less about us and a lot more about her refusing to show restraint and being a whore.”

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy kinky?”

“I’m saying I would prefer it if she isn’t thrown in jail, and our lives aren’t ruined ... I better go see if I can’t fix this.”

I lightly knock on Dahlia’s door, and she snarls, “Go away.”

I enter anyway. Zlata is on Dahlia’s bed, holding her. I ask, “Zlata, would you mind giving us a minute. It appears we need to talk.”

“I think you have done enough. Please leave.”

I may only be a 15-year-old kid, but I am ripped. I can also make my presence felt when needed and can easily intimidate. I do so now.

“I SAID, GET OUT.”

Both girls flinch. Zlata clings to Dahlia even tighter.

I calm down and clarify, “I’m not going to hurt Dahlia. We need to sort some things out, and the longer we wait, the harder it will be. Now please get out so we can talk.”

Dahlia nods her head, and her Mom lets her go, asking, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

As soon as her Mom leaves, Dahlia starts crying uncontrollably again, asking, “Why do you hate me?”

“Because I love you.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You brought out a side of me that I hate. You wouldn’t listen and kept getting worse and worse. I didn’t know what to do, and I lost it. I hit you. I used violence to get you to do what I wanted. You continued anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“I didn’t think’ is not an excuse. You should have thought. I should have ended the date there. You had me seeing red, but I still wanted the day to be special for you, so I ignored it. When you called me, sir, I wasn’t in a place where I could register that you didn’t mean it as an insult. You had no way of knowing that the only worse insult would have been if you called me ma’am.”