The First Timers Read online

  “Daddy… I’m pregnant,” I blurt out without even meaning to do it.

  Daddy stares at me a while, stunned. Daddy has other kids, but the doctors have told me that it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll ever get pregnant. Well, fuck them, because this is happening!

  Daddy starts to take me right here in the back of the limousine. The limo starts to slow down as it pulls up to the valet.

  “Go around the block!” Daddy roars at the driver, then he goes back to fucking me hard against the black cushions in the back of the limo, while I grip the hell out of the handlebar and cum like a fountain all over his big dick.

  Epilogue Pt. 2

  Years Later…

  “You kept your promise when you said you would never lose me…” I smile at Daddy from the rocking chair in our baby’s bedroom, our son in my lap.

  He rubs my shoulder sensually and kisses me lightly on my forehead. Then his steady, firm hand touches down on my breasts.

  “Not in front of the baby, Daddy!” I tell him.

  “Put him in his crib and then lie down under it,” he commands me.

  I put our baby gently down into his crib and pass him his favorite toy that always puts him to sleep. And then, I get to my feet, crawl under the crib, and wait for Daddy.

  He slides down on top of me, bites my lip, unhooks my bra, slips down my panties.

  “We’re a family now, but my love for you is not going down. It’s actually getting bigger, baby girl. So big…”

  I kiss him back and just smile, speechless.

  “Open up, baby girl,” he tells me.

  I prop my boobs up and push them in his face. He takes my nipples in his mouth, voraciously. I can feel the cum already dripping out of my pussy almost immediately.

  There will never be a love like this. I’m his little princess, and he’s my king, and with him, in my world, I have every reason to love the hell out of my life.

  He stole me all those years ago. He took what he wanted. He trained me to be the woman of both of his dreams and of mine.

  And I’m so glad he did it.

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  BOOK 2: Lacrosse Coach Daddy

  Day Dream

  He pulls the string and down fall my pajama bottoms—hitting the white carpet floor ever so gently.

  He stands over me, tall and domineering, towering over me like a huge, imposing structure. His gaze is so piercing that I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. Without even the slightest touch, he overpowers me, makes my knees buckle, my entire body feels weak until he finally takes me in his huge arms.

  He kisses me hard on my forehead, his beard brushing my face so soft and warm that I feel safe even in the danger that is unavoidable in such a man.

  And, as he slides his head down the nape of my neck, slides his big, strong tongue slowly down my breast, leaving a trail of saliva in its path, I crave nothing, but the feeling of my cherry about to pop. I almost don’t don’t know if I will be able to handle his entrance—will it be too much? Will I be able to stand feeling this good? Will I, like glass, just shatter into…

  I wake up frowning, feeling angry that I had this same dream yet again. It’s the ninth time I’ve had it and every time I’m about to get to the best part, the greatest feeling, it’s all gone to me.

  The worst thing of it, though, is that just having the dream in the first place is pure torture. It’s so far from any reality that I have ever known or could ever know because of who he is that it feels more like a cruel joke than a sensual fantasy.

  I’m eighteen years old, but still a senior in high school and that’s the turn off for him…at least, I think it is…fuck, what are you saying you stupid bitch of course it is!

  I have pictures of him, hundreds of them, in my second phone that I bought for myself with my babysitting money, because if my parents ever found out, then they would not only make me finish my senior year at home, they would probably have him killed just so I wouldn’t be tempted.

  I pull out my phone from in between the bed frame and the mattress, and begin my morning routine of thumbing through one of the albums I’ve made of him. I hate myself a little more every time I open this particular album, because it’s not just pictures of his handsome face—many of them are actually of his huge cock. A couple of us girls on the lacrosse team and on the soccer team have gotten some of the boys to sneak secret nudes of all the hot coaches, while they use the boys state-of-the-art showers and saunas for their own personal pleasure. I managed to get mine from a boy without even having to do anything for him in return. I simply blackmailed him after getting the pictures by suggesting that I might let everyone know he took photos of another man’s penis.

  His cock is so…glorious that it makes me drool all over the phone every single time it shows up on my screen. It’s enormous, and not just long but really, really thick. I can stare at it for hours, and, even though I’ve never had sex before, I feel like I can imagine exactly what it would feel like entering my untouched pussy.

  I start touching myself, moving my fingers in circles along my clit, just like I imagine he would if he were to ever do it. I used to have a dildo that seemed in exact proportion to his dick, based on the pictures, but it just wasn’t the same. I don’t just need the penis, I need the incredible man that comes with it. I need to feel his breath on my neck, and his chest on my breasts. I need to be able to hold onto his wide, muscular back and dig my nails into it as he’s fucking me. I need him.

  But that can never be…

  Phone Call With Tommy

  “Hey you…” Tommy, a boy on the baseball team says.

  Tommy is “really hot,” I guess. He’s definitely the guy people would expect me to want. He’s also a senior, six-foot-two, tan, muscular as fuck, definitely the most popular or second most popular guy in the entire high school. Every girl I know throws themselves at him or wishes that they could be in front of him long enough to throw themselves at him. But, for some reason, try as I might, and I definitely try, I just can’t feel anything at all for him. Maybe, these photos I have of him are ruining me. I know too well what an actual man looks like to appreciate the shape of a boy any longer.

  “Hey there…” I say back, fake flirtatiously.

  “I missed you at Homecoming…” he says.

  “Oh yeah, I was feeling really sick. Hate that I missed it being that it’s the last one.”

  “Yeah, it sucks.”

  “Did you have fun, though?”

  “Not without you, babe! You know that!” Tommy says.

  “Aw, you’re so sweet!” I tell him.

  “Listen, babes, I want to make this thing official. I want us to be a thing,” he says.

  I say nothing, and the moment hangs so painfully awkward between us for an entire, excruciating minute.

  “What do you think?” He asks, finally.

  “Um, sure! Why not…” I say.

  “Ok…” he says. “Well, I gotta’ go. I’ll see you at school. Love you.”

  “Bye,” I say and then hang up the phone.

  I know that was kind of wrong to say yes even though I didn’t want to, but Tommy caught me off guard. The reality is that I only want him. He’s all I can think about. And, I know that Tommy is probably feeling really sure that us being official now means that he will finally get to pop my cherry, but I just don’t want to give it up for him. It’s not right. My virginity means everything to me and it has to be right. I guess I’ll probably just have to wait until college, and survive with only my endless fantasies of him.

  Gym Class

  Later at school, I’m walking to Gym class which, since the weather is nice today, is outside and I see him standing there talking with Tommy and another boy. I can’t help but stare with one hundred percent of my focus—totally fucking obvious. He’s wearing baggy, rugged light blue jeans and a light grey sweatshirt that hugs his mas
sive torso just right. I have no idea what he’s saying, but his body gestures, his mannerisms, the very way he carries himself is just so fucking sexy to me. He’s so elevated, confident, self assured. I just want to run over and talk to him—about anything at all. But, I can’t think of a single excuse to justify it, and so I content myself just to look at him.

  “Oh my god, look! She’s staring!” Summer says, pointing at me.

  The other girls start laughing like the bitches they are, and I begin to feel nervous because I don’t want them to know I have actual feelings for our lacrosse coach. I know how easily people jump to conclusions and I just don’t want to do anything that might get him into trouble.

  “Aw, she can’t stop staring at her love…Tommy!” Lexi says.

  I take a deep breath, relieved.

  “Fuck you guys, you’re just jealous you don’t have anyone who loves you as much as Tommy loves me!” I grin, sticking out my tongue at them.

  “All right, ladies, I’m going to be honest. I was out drinking all night and I really have no idea what’s going on right now!” Coach Tracy says.

  While all the girls snicker, I sneak just one more peak over at him, but he’s no longer there…just Tommy and the other boy. I turn my head back, feeling really empty.

  “So, yeah, stick with the same teams you were in last time and let’s just through this dumbass game that the school board decided was better for you to play than soccer. I…I guess this is supposed to make you feel “empowered” or some bullshit. So…go out and “feel empowered!” Coach Tracy tells us.

  A few minutes later, after I’ve slipped on my little, blue jersey and taken my position in the front of my team, I look out across the field at the other girls and size them all up. My parents taught me to quickly learn everyone’s weakness and exploit them, but I do this so easily at this point that it all just feel so childish and boring.

  I get ready for Coach Tracey to throw the ball into the center of the field, and just before she releases it, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see him staring down at me.

  “Hey little girl!” He says with a soft smile.

  “Hi!” I say, too energetic—WAY too excited.

  “Your boyfriend was telling me that you were really sick last weekend and that’s why you missed Homecoming?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m fine now, though!” I say.

  “That’s too bad. Did you know that they had picked me to chaperone it this time? I was asking around about you when I didn’t see you there. I was really concerned something was wrong…”

  “You did?” I ask, really surprised, flattered, and blushing.

  “Of course…”

  “Hey, pal, we’re kind of about to start a game!” Coach Tracy screams, interrupting him.

  I could honestly slit her neck and choke her with whatever came out of it, right now…

  “What the hell did you just say?” He roars back, his voice booming like thunder up and down the entire field.

  Coach Tracy takes several steps back, looking genuinely frightened of him.

  He looks so confident and domineering right now that it’s kind of scary, and the other girls also take several steps back from him, but I don’t. Instead, I take a step closer to him. I feel safe in his presence—safer, in fact, than I do anywhere else because who would dare try to hurt me with him watching over me?

  “Listen,” he says, effortlessly becoming calm again. “In case you aren’t really feeling better—come to my office after classes finish. I have a medicine that I administer to my athletes only in special cases. You’re my star. I can’t ever afford to lose you…”

  “Um, ok,” I say, beaming inside.

  As he walks off, I can literally feel every muscle in my body vibrating all at once. It could happen. It could actually fucking happen!

  But only a few minutes later, I come down from the high of thinking of what could be possible between us and realize that there was literally nothing about what he said that suggested he was into me. As the head coach of the best girls lacrosse team in the entire city, he actually could not afford to lose me. Fuck, I hate myself. Why can’t I let this go of this stupid obsession? How am I this fucking dumb?!

  Private Coaching Session

  The final bell rings and I shoot up from my desk, then book it to my locker.

  When I get to my locker, I open it, cram everything I need into my bag, slam it shut, and then race to his office.

  I run like a track star through the halls—literally pushing to the side anyone who doesn’t get out of my way in time. I know I’m making a scene, drawing too much attention to myself, but I don’t care. I just have the feeling that this could, somehow, all become real. I’ve dreamed this happening so many times and the fact that it actually could happen is totally fucking surreal to me. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m on a higher up plane than the rest world.

  When I reach his office, which is down in the basement next to the gym that nobody uses, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and come to a complete stop. Fuck, I’m sweating through my top!

  Not wanting to waste a minute, I pull out some clothes from my bag that I carry for emergencies, which this technically counts as, and change right in the middle of the hallway. Luckily no one sees me, and, before I know it, I’m taking off again down the hall to his office.

  “Woah, slow down!” He says, grabbing me from behind and holding me in place.

  Shit, I must have ran right past him and not even realized it!

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to head home without giving you your medicine…” he says.

  “Oh, good…” I say, trying to catch my breath.

  I follow him into his office, and when we walk in, he gestures for me to sit down, and then, once I’m seated, he sits down on the edge of his desk—our knees rubbing up against one another.

  “You do look a little pale…” he says.

  “I do?!”

  “Yep. You really sure you don’t feel ill?”

  “Well, a little. I guess…” I lie.

  “Here…” he says.

  Then, he gets off the desk and grabs a prescription of bottle from a nearby drawer, thend hands it to me.

  I feel like my heart is crumbling into absolute nothingness. It feels like my body is being pulled down through the floor and like I cannot breathe. How could I have thought this wasn’t about actual medicine?! I feel like crying, but don’t because I just couldn’t take him seeing me this weak.

  “You seem surprised…” he says. “Were you expecting something else?”

  “Um…”

  “C’mon you don’t have to be shy about it. I won’t judge. I promise you.”

  “Well, I guess. Well, it’s stupid, but I thought maybe that you were going to take care of me a different way…like the way, I guess, a guy would take care of a girl, I guess, you know, that he liked…” I say, so fucking red and embarrassed.

  “I see,” he says. “Is that what you wanted me to have meant?”

  He watches me, completely measured and controlled. I can’t tell at all what he’s thinking. He’s simply stone faced—like an incredibly good-looking statue.

  “I guess, yeah. Shit, I’m really embarrassed. I’m so sorry…” I say.

  I get to my feet and brush past him on the way out the door, every step feeling more painful than the one before it.

  And then, just before I reach the door frame, I feel his big arm curl around me, pulling me back into the office.

  He spins me around, parts my lips with his, and takes my tongue in his mouth.

  Then, he picks me up by my ass and plants me down hard on the edge of the desk, violently knocks the stacks of papers on his desk clear off to the floor. Then, he pushes me all the way down onto my back.

  I look up as he looms enormous over me and I watch him take his sweatshirt off. And then, he takes off his t-shirt off and I see his perfectly-ripped torso, glistening like an Adonis even under these ugly florescent lights
above us. I stare in awe at his body, taking every inch of it in piece by piece. He’s just so big all over—way bigger than Tommy’s body or any boy’s body I’ve seen, for that matter. It’s not even fair to compare them—he’s on another level. I look down at the super defined vee leading down his jeans to his dick, and I just can’t wait any longer for his jeans to come off. Every second they’re still on him is complete fucking agony.

  “You like this?” He asks.

  He grabs my little hands in his and pulls them onto his chest, his abs. I feel all along it—strong as steel and warm as fucking fire.

  “Yes…” I say, almost breathless.

  “Take them down,” he tells me, his voice so strong and powerful.

  I lean up and slowly unbuckle his belt, slide it off, unbutton the jeans, and unzip them. Then, I pull them down gently, savoring this moment for all it’s worth.

  The image that I drooled over so many fucking times finally comes to life. I see his huge, throbbing penis—literally inches away from my lips. It’s even bigger than it looked in the pictures, and it’s just so damn thick—like it’s almost the circumference of a fucking can of Coca-Cola!

  “Rub it,” he tells me, his voice deep like a drum.

  I slowly put my little hand around it, barely even able to grip all of it at once. Then, I slowly move my hand all the way down to the base, feeling the hot skin against my each of my fingers. Once I reach the base, I quickly bring my hand back up, wanting it to stiffen even harder in my hand, wanting to to know what it feels like.

  “Lick your hand,” he tells me.

  I lick my hand long and sensually, teasing him with what I could do to his cock if he wants me to. Then I put my hand back on it and stroke it down to the bottom.