"That's it, you little cocksucker," I said to my kneeling, 15-year old stepdaughter. She began to bob her head up and down on my shaft all the faster. She knew it would only be a few more minutes, and then she would be free of her duty, at least for now. "Oh yessss, that's a good girl!"

Back before I changed the rules on her, she would probably have been finished by now. In those days, I had allowed her to use her hands to stroke my dick while she sucked on the end. However, I soon discovered that she was getting lazy, just keeping the head in her mouth, doing all the work manually. "Cheater dick" would not do for my little girl, I determined, so nowadays her wrists are bound behind her back from start to finish.

As a result, I now enjoy pure tongue-and-mouth ministrations, which not only feel better, but also allow me to prolong the pleasure, usually for as long as I please, until culminating in a shattering release. Often, it pleases me to prolong the session very much indeed. She was working at it pretty hard at this moment, however, and we both knew it wouldn't be long now.

I had never dreamed I'd be enjoying such bliss when I married Kimmie's mother five years ago. At the time, Kimmie was a little ten-year-old slip of a girl, and my only interest was in her thirty-year old mother Denise. My, how times have changed! Oh, I still enjoy Denise's hot little body, kept that way by the aerobics classes I have arranged for her to take each afternoon, in addition to her gourmet cooking classes, her flower arranging classes, and her volunteer work. Yes, for as long as the private school I send Kimmie to lets its students out at 2:30 in the afternoon, I assure you that my wife will be kept busy with afternoon self-improvement projects.

I still enjoy giving her mother the bone. In fact, one of my favorite things to do is to take Denise's pussy after my morning shower, and then to allow the evidence of her pleasure to dry and crust on my sated prick all day while I work as a securities trader. You see, I live in Colorado, so the New York market I trade in closes every day at 2:00 pm in my time zone. Just in time for me to get home, pour a scotch, and wait for Kimmie to get home to lick and suck her mother's caked-on pussy drool from my dick. I enjoy this for two reasons. First, the whole mother-daughter effect is intoxicating, and second, Kimmie hates that aspect at least twice as much as she hates having to suck my cock in the first place. She has been hating both aspects for almost a year now.

Wow, I mused to myself, if five years ago even I never imagined this scene unfolding, how blissfully ignorant must the then ten-year-old Kimmie have been in those long past, innocent days. I had met her mother while doing a little volunteer work. In my occupation, I make an ungodly amount of money, but for some reason my employer feels that volunteering one's time is better than just giving money to a good cause. So, there I was, along with several of my colleagues and some of their spouses, helping to repaint a low-income apartment building. Denise was a single mother, down on her luck, and one of the few residents who actually pitched in with our efforts. Since she was quite attractive and had a killer body, I asked her out, and within a couple of weeks I was regularly pounding the hell out of her long-unused pussy.

We dated a while, and I realized I had found a smoking-hot, compliant, moldable piece of ass, so I married her. She brought her little girl, Kimmie, along, and both of their lives were changed dramatically. They moved into my luxuriant home in the very best neighborhood, and began to enjoy all the better things in life. Denise was very happy to begin the self-improvement programs I had mapped out for her, since she initially felt a little out of place among my friends and their Ivy League wives. I must say, she has really come a long way. Little Kimmie was enrolled in a private girl's school a few blocks away, and just when she was getting to that age when girls start to worry about wearing the right clothes and having the right things, she had the very best. At her last school, a dysfunctional public K-8 on the other side of town, the other girls had just starting teasing her as a "welfare girl" (not exactly true) and "trailer trash" (exactly not true). Suddenly, because of her new circumstances, she was able keep up with the snobbiest of her classmates. If you don't believe that is important, you don't know any ten-year old girls.

Kimmie had to wear a uniform Monday through Thursday at St. Brendan Academic, but on Fridays the students were allowed to wear "regular clothes", and on weekends she had all the best mall-stalking outfits to keep up with the "Little Miss Sally St. John-Smitherington-Smythe" types down the street. Because I had made this fantasy possible, she adored me from the very beginning, and although Denise and I first instructed her to call me by my first name, Alex, she soon took to calling me "Daddy". This pleased me, in an avuncular way at the time, so we allowed it. Now it pleases me in an altogether less innocent way, and I insist upon it.

"That's it, honey, suck Daddy's cock, he's about to give his little schoolgirl exactly what she's craving", I muttered. Kimmie was really going to town now, her long brunette hair cascading around her face and my lap, alternately obstructing and framing my view of her big brown eyes, her pert little nose, and her full-lipped, but small, mouth stretched around the slickened girth of my happy cock. I glanced up from observing her bobbing head. I was taking my daily pleasure today in one of our more common settings. I sat in a leather easy chair in my "drawing room", my half-finished scotch temporarily forgotten on the side table, as the little teen executed her obligation. Behind her was the glass front of a trophy case, in the reflection of which I could enjopy the vision one of my favorite little get-ups. At my insistence, today she had shed her blouse, her little A-cup bra, and her pleated skirt, and was kneeling in only her white cotton panties, her white knee socks, and her white and blue saddle shoes. I had an excellent reflective view of her tightly-clad, sweet little fifteen-year-old bottom, as well as the back of her bobbing head and long brown hair. I insisted she keep her hair long enough to reach down her (now naked) back, but short enough to not quite reach her cute little schoolgirl ass. Over her ass, her wrists crossed, bound in leather restraints that, ironically, her mother had presented to me a few months ago to use on her.

This day was a Thursday, which meant that the morrow, a Friday, she'd probably wear a "regular outfit" to school, so I could look forward to a little mini-skirt, bare-midriff, pony-tail session then. More importantly, it also meant that Denise would be out with her activities until nine tonight. This created an excellent tension of interests between little Kimmie and me, which I was relishing at this moment. You see, with Denise out so late, I could afford to drag out our session for as long as I chose. I could let the pressure and semen build to the point that the poor little cocksucker's jaws would be very tired by the time she finally got to choke down my copious load. On the other hand, Kimmie had all the more reason to try to bring me off as quickly as possible on Thursdays. As part of our "arrangement", as soon as she finished the duties she owed me, she would be allowed to go see her little seventeen-year old boyfriend, and to perform the same sort of service for him, if she chose. Her mother would never allow her to go out on a school night and, of course, Denise was completely ignorant of any of Kimmie's newfound talents, so Thursdays were an opportunity for us both.

Ah yes, the "arrangement" – I thought back upon its genisis with pleasure. It had been about ten months ago, and I was at home around two-thirty, as usual. The doorbell rang, and to my surprise a police officer stood at door with a shamefaced Kimmy in tow. Looking out to the street I could see some little punk was secured in the back of the officer's patrol car.

"What is it?" I worriedly asked.

"May I come in?" he responded. I showed him to my drawing room, the very room in which today little Kimmie was so hard at work. On that occasion, Kimmie had no choice but to join the two of us, and I told her to sit down while the officer said his piece.