Remember that adorably bratty 20-year old Scottish girl? The morning after our first time, I fucked her in the kitchen while she made me breakfast, had her suck me off beneath the table while I chatted with her dad, and pounded her ass in the shower afterwards while I choked her. Part 2! [MF]

First part of the story is here, if you want to catch up: https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wnn1dz/the_other_week_i_fucked_and_dominated_the/

My sincerest thanks to everyone who read the first installment of this story, and for your patience—I’ve had Covid the last two weeks, and my symptoms are lingering, so I haven’t felt like doing much of anything, let alone detail my kinky exploits. Likewise, I’ve had some ambivalence over continuing to recount this experience. At the risk of being too vague, the reasons why will become apparent by the end of the story. Regardless, though, I think it’s an enjoyable story, so I’ll be continuing as best I’m able.

Now, onto the good stuff.

That first morning, I awoke with a headache, somehow not entirely convinced that the previous night had been real. The scent of sex hanging over my room, and the bill Maisie had left on my nightstand, revealing that I’d spent a remarkable amount of money on whisky over the last eighteen hours, helped support the case that it had actually happened, though.

At some point the day before, I’d filled out a little sheet Maisie had given me, with my preferences for breakfast. Naturally, I had opted to have it as late as possible—9:30am—and elected to challenge myself with a full Scottish breakfast, complete with haggis. The clock on my dresser informed me that it was 9:21, and I said I silent pray of thanks to the gods of international air travel that I’d more or less slept a normal night, in spite of the time difference, probably thanks to the intoxicating effects of the booze and Maisie’s eager holes.

When I went down for breakfast, I found the pub transformed into a dining room, filled with the other guests at the inn—a French family, and a few older German couples. The record player in the pub took us through a selection of ABBA’s greatest hits, and based on the jovially bouncing heads of the European guests, this was a house favorite.

Just as I took my seat, I spied Maisie stepping into the kitchen from behind the bar. She did a double-take, locking eyes with me, giving me a little smile, before darting off. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she wore glasses and a short dress, that barely came down over her ass. It wasn’t exactly a garment designed to inspire lust, though—with a vaguely nautical theme, it hung straight and flat on her body, and proudly displayed oil splatters from the morning’s breakfast.

Once I determined that the Europeans were paying approximately zero attention to my presence, I strode behind the bar with all the confidence of a white man in complete assurance of his necessity at a given place and time. In the tiny, sweltering kitchen, I found Maisie, bouncing along at the range to the poorly aged strains of “I Kissed the Teacher.” She was slicked with sweat and jumped when I slid my hands around her waist.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she scolded me. “Go sit yourself back down.”

“I can’t help but notice that I am here, in spite of the prohibition.” I pressed my lips to her sweaty neck and she leaned to the side, obliging my caresses.

“I’m sweaty,” she murmured, leaning, nonetheless, back into me. “I haven’t showered yet. I must smell awful.”

“You smell like eggs and potatoes and pussy.”

“Oh, you’re quite bad—hey!”

She gasped when I slide up the back of her dress, and found her ass bare. Her two pale cheeks, though small, were perfectly plump and round. I spread her ass, finding the golden-red hair covering her holes damp with sweat.

“Look, it’s all nasty back there, I’ve barely cleaned up since last night,” she murmured as I slid my fingers along her slit.

“You’re wet.”

“Well, I can’t help that.” She sighed. “If you’re going to do it, get it over with, daddy. I’ve got to make your breakfast.”

I unzipped my fly and slid my cock out. I was inordinately pleased by how wet she was, how she got wetter with each passing second. I had to drop into a sort of quarter-squat to fit my cock inside of her while she stood, and she heaved out a gasp when I penetrated her, setting aside her spatula and leaning hard over the range.

“Fuck. I’m so sore after last night.”

“Do you want me to give you a break?” I whispered as I ran a hand up along her throat, passing a finger over her lips. She nipped playfully at my palm.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered. “Just fuck me fast—those Germans get agitated if they don’t see me working every few minutes.”

I pumped my hips into her. She seemed tighter than the previous night—perhaps it was the position, but from my glimpses of her pussy, she seemed swollen—apparently, she wasn’t lying about being sore.

As I cupped my hand over her mouth, stifling the soft moans and yelps, I covered her pussy with my other palm, pressing into her clit, letting the force of my thrusts grind her slit into my hand. I bit her neck hard as I fucked her, digging my teeth into the soft, salty flesh and making her shake and thrash in my hands.

Soon, I felt my cock tightening. I ploughed deep into her once more and let my load go, my cock spasming inside of her, filling her. I only held her tighter as I finished, and focused on stroking her clit, my fingers sliding fast, almost chaotically over her wet slit. Finally, even as my cock was softening inside of her, I felt her squirm in my arms. After a few moments, she batted my hand away from her pussy and shook the hand off her mouth.

“Nope. We’re done. Too sensitive. I can’t keep quiet,” she panted. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss me and swatted my butt. “Wash your hands and go sit down.”

I obliged, after putting my sloppy cock away. As I ducked out of the kitchen, I saw Maisie smirking to herself—and when she saw me still spying on her, she flipped me off and shooed me out.

The entire time I’d been fucking her, Maisie had more or less kept cooking, flipping eggs, slicing off a chunk of black pudding, and so on. Ten minutes after I’d returned to the dining room—during which the Europeans finished their breakfasts and drifted back to their rooms, apparently unaware of what had just happened in the kitchen—Maisie came bustling out with a sagging platter of food: thick, dripping sausages; pink strips of juicy back bacon; crispy black pudding and potato cakes; gloopy baked beans, still simmering; oozing, sunny-side-up eggs; and, of course, the dank, sour-smelling mass of sheep innards and oats known as haggis.

“I’m supposed to eat all of that?”

Maisie gave me a triumphant grin.

“How else will you have the energy to go out and run the British Empire?” She sat down across from me and speared a sausage for herself. “Here, I’ll help.”

I found myself suddenly and quite ravenously hungry, the perfect situation in which to encounter such a meal. I dug into the fry-up as Maisie picked at the edges of the plate. Mostly, though, she watched me eat, sipping from a tea cup. Smirking, the entire time.

“What?” I said, finally. She giggled.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, tell me. Am I eating it wrong?”

“Quite the contrary. My mum always said how she liked to watch dad eat something she’d made. I always thought that was rather silly, but now, at the risk of scaring you back across the Atlantic, I’m feeling quite—wifely.” She punctuated that revelation by slipping her foot out of her sandal, under the table, raising it, and letting it rest on my crotch, gently teasing my cock through my pants.

“Why would that scare me off?”

“I’m just saying, it’s quite a nice feeling, and quite unexpected, watching your man eat a big breakfast after you’ve just been fucked.”

“Oh? I’m your man now?” I asked, feeling myself grow hard beneath the caresses of her surprisingly dexterous toes.

“If you fuck me in my kitchen while I make your breakfast, then you sure as fuck are,” she declared, suddenly pushing hard against my balls. “Just while you’re here. I’m not mental. Unless I can convince you to stay forever.” She snickered. “But it does things to me. What you do to me. I’ve been squeezing my thighs together to hold your cum inside, and I don’t know why I don’t go to the loo and let it out like normal, but I kind of want to hold it in as long as I can.”

“That’s a good girl,” I cooed after wiping the haggis from my lips. “You were made to take my cum.”

Maisie bit her lip and wrinkled her nose, bouncing her glasses. “That’s right. Talking to me like that—oh, you’re hard again. Whatever shall we do about that?”

“I suspect it involves you, on your knees, under the table.”

“Does it now? Lucky for you that yours is the last breakfast this morning.” With that, she downed the last of her tea, looked around the pub—more for my benefit than anything else—and slid beneath the tablecloth. I felt her hands reaching for my crotch, unzipping my pants, and taking my cock in her hands.

“That’s a good girl,” I said, peeking at her under the table as she gave my cock a tentative lick. “Taste yourself on my cock.”

“Tastes like sweat and pussy,” she murmured, drawing her eager pink tongue along my hardening shaft. Somehow, she looked even more adorable with her glasses, accentuating those bright green eyes. Her face was flushed, and she was grinning as she slid my cock into her mouth. “Sausage always was my favorite part of breakfast.”

She ran her teeth along my cock—normally, any other girl who’s done this does it clumsily, either too hard and so soft you can barely feel it, but Maisie hit the sweet spot, dragging her teeth up the plump head of my cock, applying gentle pressure, nibbling, and then taking me in her mouth again, letting my cock sit between her molars as she actually chewed it. Gently, of course, even using her teeth to grip my cock and jack it slowly.

“Fuck,” I remember whispering heavily, to giggles below. I slid a hand through her sweaty copper hair and eased her face onto my crotch. She nuzzled my hand before giving in, gagging softly as my cock pressed against the back of her throat.

“Enjoying your breakfast?” came Rod’s cheerful voice as he popped into the dining room. A brief thrill of panic ran over me—I saw Maisie’s eyes widen as she sat frozen, my cock still in her mouth. Rod took her seat, across from me, and I felt Maisie shifting around, shying away from her father’s feet.

“It’s great. Maisie’s outdone herself.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” He glanced down at the plate with a half-eaten sausage and the crispy edges of an otherwise devoured egg, sitting next to the empty teacup. “Did one of your lads get in all ready?”

“Not yet.” To my delight, and horror, I felt Maisie’s mouth moving on my cock again. I was sure I was impossibly hard, harder than I’d ever remembered being, as she suckled my shaft mere inches from her father. “Maisie had a cup of tea and a quick bite before she rushed off somewhere.”

“Oh? Did she say where she was off to? I’m looking for her.”

“Something about checking out the French family. Or the Germans. Can’t tell them apart.”

“Ah,” Rod said, raising a single finger. “There’s a trick. The French always ask for things you don’t have. The Germans ask for the things you’ve just run out of.”

“Ahhhh,” I said, turning my sigh of pleasure at Maisie’s wet lips inching down my cock into a knowing utterance of comprehension. “Yes, that makes sense.”

Did it, really? I wasn’t about to interrogate it. Maisie’s fingers found my balls, cupping them and teasing them, and then, I felt one hand digging into my pants, into my underwear, sliding along the tender flesh just below my balls, to tease my asshole. As soon as I felt her playful fingertips dancing over the rim of my ass, that pushed me over the edge. The grimace of pleasure forming over my face Rod seemed to interpret as delight at the haggis-covered tattie scone I was piloting to my mouth.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your breakfast. If you see Maisie, send her my way—we’ve got to get ready for your stag party.”

With that, Rod leaned across the table to pat me on the shoulder—had he looked down, he would have seen Maisie’s face sliding back beneath the table-cloth, cum-covered lips clamped shut. Fortunately, I leaned forward at the last second, awkwardly pressed one of my forearms over my lap and onto Maisie’s face, and then Rod was gone.

We waited in silence for what felt like several minutes before I felt Maisie squirming beneath the table.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped as she came up. She grabbed my napkin and wiped her mouth. “That’s something I never thought I’d do.”

“I don’t think he suspected a thing.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Really.”

“Good.” Maisie rubbed her temples quite performatively, and then crossed to the bar, washed her hands, poured us two drams, and brought them back to the table. I didn’t doubt that I’d be paying for both of them. “It’s not that my dad would lose it if he knew we were fucking or anything. He’s not a barbarian. It’s just—I don’t want him thinking any less of me.”

“I think it’s completely reasonable not to want your father to know about any blowjob you give, regardless of how close it is.”

Maisie giggled.

“Fine, you’re right.”

“I take it he doesn’t know about the OnlyFans?”

“Oh, absolutely not. He’s so fucking innocent, my dad. Here’s what a fucking legend of a daughter I am: we opened this place right before the Pandemic, right before lockdown. It was his dream, and my mum’s. Well, pretty awful fucking time to open a bed and breakfast, wasn’t it?”

“Not the most auspicious time.”

“And then, to make it worse—” Here she drew a breath and downed her dram. “You know, my mum, she got Covid right away, and bad. She was at a funeral in London, of all things, back in March of 2020. So—she didn’t make it. And then, my dad is left with this money pit. And me. It was their dream, but not mine, you know? But it’s lockdown, my uni classes are all online, and I’m trapped here. Just—fucking haunting this empty place.”

I admit, I didn’t have anything witty to offer here. I almost assured Maisie that her mother would be proud of her—a completely sincere sentiment—but considering the trace amounts of my semen still glistening on her chin (I had determined I would let her know of its presence when he father came back, or when we parted after breakfast; whichever came first—until then, I’d enjoy the sight) I thought it might come off wrong. Fortunately, Maisie was quick to continue her story.

“So, around that time, I started my OnlyFans, started bringing in a bit of money, and I started finding some of that money in our accounts. I always told dad it was a refund for something or other. I don’t know if he ever pieced it together, that it was my money. Even if he did, I’m sure he doesn’t know how I came into it.”

“Christ, you are a fucking legend of a daughter.”

“Thank you. At least someone knows.”

I reached out and caught her by the collar of her dress, pulled her into a kiss. I could taste whisky and cum on her lips, and she pressed into me, tongue darting into my mouth aggressively, her hands finding the back of my head. A proper snog, as she’d say.

“You’re bitter today. Just so you know.”

“What?”

“Your cum. It tasted better yesterday. I’m guessing it’s all the whisky.” She put on a faux-thoughtful look. “When I go to the store today, I’ll pick up a mango and make you a little fruit salad for breakfast tomorrow.”

“You’ve got mangos this far north?”

She looked at me as if I were an idiot which, well, to be fair…

“Of course, we’ve got mangos. I mean, we don’t grow them, but they come from, I don’t know, Portugal or some shit.” She kissed me again. “You smell. You ought to go shower.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

She raised her auburn eyebrows, freckles dancing as she grinned.

“Fine. Wait for me. My dad was looking for me, so I’ll see what he wants and then I’ll be by.”

The plan made, she tidied up the remains of my fry-up, what all I couldn’t finish without bursting at the seams, and I wandered back up to my room to chug a few glasses of water and down a handful of Ibuprofen.

I waited close to an hour, and I was just about to give up and shower when a knock came at my door. There was Maisie, brushing past me into my room.

“Sorry about that—had to talk to dad, and then get the continentals checked out and talk them through driving down to Edinburgh—why can’t they just use Google maps like normal people?”

“Feels good to have freed yourselves from the oppressive yoke of the Union, doesn’t it?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “The European Union isn’t the Union I want out of.”

“Do you think independence will happen?”

“In my lifetime, sure. Everyone I know, everyone under thirty, everyone Scottish, we want back into the EU. We’re fine being a small country in the EU—we haven’t had imperial ambitions ourselves since, oh, the eighteenth century. But my dad’s generation—you know, he’s ambivalent. He was in the Royal Navy. He wears a poppy for Remembrance Day. He voted Remain but he’s not torn up about it either, the result.” She shrugged. “I think it’ll happen, eventually.”

“I recommend dumping shipments of tea into a harbor. That worked for us.”

“Right, of course, you lot love declaring independence from the English.”

“My grandparents came from Ireland, too. I’m sympathetic on all sides. How about a Celtic Union with the Republic of Ireland, the Kingdom of Scotland, the Principality of Wales—”

“Right, that’s a load of nonsense. Forget the politics, I want to show you something.” And then, she turned around, bent over, and pulled up her dress. The familiar sight of her pale, slightly freckled ass greeted me but with one significant addition.

“A butt plug,” I pronounced, spreading her cheeks and flicking the pink jewel glittering in a nest of orange fur. “I love it.”

“I thought you would,” he said with a triumphant giggle. “You seemed rather interested in my bum last night.”

“I’d say I’m extremely interested in your bum.” I twisted the butt plug inside her, rotating it and eliciting a gasp from her. “Have you taken it in the ass before?”

“Ah, about that. Yes. Once. With my ex. It didn’t go well.”

“What didn’t go well?”

“Oh, well… Everything.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes. A lot. And it was messy. And I think I mentioned, he really didn’t like all the hair and he kept making remarks about it and it made me quite self-conscious, and it’s hard to, you know, feel sexy in that situation…”

“Well, he sounds like an idiot.”

“That’s what I said—ah!” she squealed as I slide the plug out, her asshole spreading lewdly around the sliver bulb, before easing it back in. I did that again, and again, fucking her tight hole with the toy.

“How does that feel?”

“Great, actually.”

With my other hand, I slid my fingers along her wet slit and she murmured in appreciation.

“And that’s even better.”

“If you like this, I bet you’d like my cock.”

“Yeah… I sort of thought that’s where this was going.”

“You don’t want it?” I lowered my face, getting down on my knees, to taste her pussy. Her lips really were swollen from being fucked, and she gasped as soon as my tongue found them. She spread her thighs wider and held herself open, the fragrant musk of her pink hole washing over me as I lapped at her clit.

“Didn’t say that,” she moaned. “I’m allowed to be a bit scared. You’re quite thick, you know. You’re going to rip me apart.”

I sped up the plug’s pistoning in and out of her asshole.

“Maybe you’d like to be ripped apart.”

“Fuck, daddy, you make me want to do such nasty things for you.”

“Then say it.” I could tell she was close, that all the attention I was paying to her swollen clit was having its effect. She hung her head, leaning on the dresser for support as she panted.

“Fuck. Fine. Daddy, rip my arse apart. I want you to use my arsehole. Like… Like it’s another cunt. It’s all for you, daddy.” She looked over her shoulder. “Like that? That’s what you want to hear?”

“Keep going. Till you cum.”

“This is embarrassing as fuck but… Oh, god, fuck, daddy, I want you to tear my little arsehole apart. I don’t care if it hurts. After I went to bed last night, I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking what if you had just forced me to take it in my bum… My hairy little arsehole is all for you. I want to be a good girl for you, daddy.” Then, her stream of dirty talk dissolved into moans and squeals as she came, a soft dribble of fluid oozing out of her wet slit and into my mouth.

“You squirted,” I informed her once she had regained her breath.

“Oh, fuck, really? I almost never do that. It must have been something about having the plug in…” She pressed her palms to her face. “Fuck, I’m so turned on. Making me talk like that—that’s a good move.”

“Then,” I said, standing. “Let’s relocate to the shower and you’ll do more of that.” I pulled her in for a kiss, and was delighted at how aggressively she clung to me, kissing me hard, pulling her butt up onto the dresser with my help so that she sat half a head higher than me.

“Daddy, I—” she started and then giggled. “I feel like I’m drunk. I was about to say something quite foolish.”

In spite of the seriousness of the sentiment, the idea sent a thrill through me.

“I don’t mind if you’re a bit foolish.”

“You say that now…” she murmured. By way of changing the subject, she darted her hand into the breast pocket of her house dress, and produced a small tube of personal lubricant. “By the way, you’re not actually using my arsehole like a second pussy. I’m going to need about half this bottle to squeeze your cock in.”

“If you’re good, I’ll let you have a quarter of it.”

“Daddy,” she scowled. “A third. At least a third.”

“Only if you’re a good girl.”

She fluttered her eyes. “I’m always a good girl.” She pushed off the dresser and made her way to the shower, discarding her dress along the way. The sight of her slim, slightly muscled body, pale and pink and covered in scattered freckles and birthmarks, her ass offering a quivering bounce with each step, stiffened my cock even further.

I watched her fiddle with the shower. Secretly, I was quite glad things had worked out like this—one of my least favorite parts of traveling is learning a new shower. As one ages, one comes to fixate on the little things more.

Once I’d undressed, I joined Maisie in the shower, and she reached her arms up to drape her hands around the back of my neck, letting my cock jab her in her flat belly, the head poking her belly-button—a rather cute innie, with a trail of red hair running down to the forest primeval covering her crotch. As we let the water rush over us, I admired the soft hair under her armpits, the way she giggled as I fingered her there, and the way her auburn hair plastered itself against her back and shoulders and chest.

I took the shower head and turned her around, bending her over and letting her brace herself against the wall of the shower.

“Daddy, what are you—”

“Getting you a bit clean. And we’re going to stretch you, a bit. Get you relaxed.” I directed the water onto her ass as I slid the plug out, rinsing it clean, and then directing the stream into her butt. She squealed and did a little dance.

“Oh, that’s warm!”

“Does it feel good?”

“It does, yeah, it’s just surprisingly. Oh—oh wow—” My fingers found their way into her ass, two at first, which I had dribbled with lube. Her hole was already somewhat relaxed from the plug, and the warm water—and cumming—helped to ease my digits inside, and before long, I had two fingers buried up to the knuckle inside of her.

“I could get used to this,” she grunted.

“Good. Here, take this—you know what to do with it.”

I gave her the showerhead and she nodded, understanding immediately. She pressed it against her pussy, directing the hot spray onto her clit, and within moments, she was moaning, a long, low drone.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum again like this.”

“Go ahead. Cum as much as you can.”

“I think I can manage that—daddy, this is fucking great, your fingers, and the water—oh, goddamn…” I felt her shaking, starting to cum even as I stuffed a third finger inside her.

“Keep count of how many times you cum,” I whispered in her ear. “I want you to push yourself. Cum as many times as you can.”

“They’re not fucking press ups,” she shot back. “But—I’ll try. For you, daddy.”

I dribbled more lube onto her tight, pink hole, bending her over at the waist, and then added a few healthy dollops to my cock. I pressed the tip against her ass, and watched in delight as her tight ring of muscle all but suckled me inside.

“Oh, fuck, that’s you, isn’t it,” she gasped.

“Just breathe. Does it hurt?”

“Not yet—not really—” I pressed into her, deeper. “Oooh, that’s a bit—yeah, oh, god, you’re stretching me. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Tremors ran through her body, and I felt her muscles seizing up as I began to move inside of her, slowly. “Oh my god, you’re going to rip me.”

“You’re doing great. Breathe. Keep the water on your pussy.”

“Yes, daddy. Oh, fuck. I think I like this. I’m so scared, though. I can’t decide if I want you to break me or go gentle. It’s all the way in now, isn’t it?”

It was only about half in, with a good three and a half inches to go.

“You’re almost there, Maisie. You’re such a good girl for me,” I whispered in her ear, leaning over her as I pushed in. She let out a long, low cry as I embedded my cock all the way in her ass, and then took slow, ragged breaths as we stood there, the warm spray of the shower tickling my balls as her ass struggled to relax around me.

“How’s it feel?” I asked after a few moments.

“It’s good. It’s so fucking good. I feel so full. The hurt. It’s good, I think.” She moaned. “I’m getting close again. That’s… That’ll be two.”

“Good. Cum for me, and then I’m going to fuck you.”

That got a good gasp from her and I felt the muscles in her ass shudder and clench around me as she orgasmed, trembling in my arms. With that, I began to thrust, slowly at first, only moving an inch or so at a time, before going faster and faster, and finally, pulling all the way out of her, letting her asshole gape, the pink insides dripping with shower water and lube. I took that opportunity to empty another dollop of lube into her fleshy hole before sinking myself back inside of her.

“I love this,” she sobbed. “It hurts so good. You’re fucking skewering me.”

“Your tight ass was made for this, baby girl,” I cooed in her ear. I reached out to take her throat, and she gasped in delight as I tightened.

“Be careful,” she whispered, bringing us back to the moment I started the story with. Her hands found my chest, nails scratching me, as she bent her arms back, holding the showerhead tight between her thighs. “Scotland’s a haunted land. Us Scottish girls turn into ghosts like that.” She found the wherewithal to snap her fingers, though the shower around us deadened the sound. “If you go too far, I will fucking haunt your arse.”

My grip must have slackened at that point because I saw that she grinned, and added: “But that don’t mean you should go easy on me either.” That earned her a kiss, as I craned her neck around, stretching to nip at the corner of her mouth.

Now, I began to fuck her in earnest, the wet slap of my hips against her ass forming a chorus with her steady grunts and moans, animalistic and primal, and the shower splattering against her. Every few minutes, her moans rose to a crescendo as she came—at first, her orgasms had been heralded by gasps and moans; now, each climax seemed almost painful, and she sobbed through them.

“That’s five,” she whimpered. “I think I can get another.”

I myself was getting close, and though I entertained a fantasy of cumming along with her, as soon as the thought entered my head, I lost control, sinking my cock a few more times into her gaping guts and, finally, unceremoniously, emptying myself inside of her, and adding a few final thrusts, forcing my load as deep into her as I could while I was still hard.

“Ooooh,” she moaned, wincing against the shower wall. “The cum in my arse. Yeah, that’s quite nice.”

And it was. I slid out of her, my cum dribbling out along with my cock. My seed had quickly turned pink, mixing with the trace amounts of blood now coloring her abused ass, but it was difficult to distinguish from the pink, blistered skin and the coppery hair matted with cum and lubricant.

“You’re not done,” I informed her as she turned around in my arms. “Cum for me once more.”

“Yes, daddy,” she murmured, numb, leaning against me. “Anything for you.”

The fuck had weakened her, I could tell, and she leaned all her weight against me, whimpering, letting me kiss her lazily, still holding the shower between her thighs as she gripped me. Finally, she let out another gasping sob and came, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

Maisie seemed dazed after that. I washed her, soaping up a cloth and dragging it over her body to the sound of her whimpers. Once we were done, I dried her off, as though she really were a toy, and wrapped her in a towel. Then, we retreated to my bed, still dripping.

“How are you doing?” I asked, finally, after we’d been silent for several minutes.

“Good. Great, actually. I’m just—I feel like I’m vibrating.” She looked up at me, eyes red. “That was amazing. Maybe too amazing. I feel like I died somewhere along there and I’m a ghost, like I’m floating.”

“Intense sessions like that can have that effect.”

“Right. I forgot, you’re an old hand at sodomizing young girls.”

“More or less.”

She buried her face in my chest, and inhaled deeply.

“You smell nice.”

“I smell like the shampoo and the soap, same as you.”

“No, I mean—the smell of your hair and your body and your blood. Even though you showered, I can still get it, a bit.” She kissed my chest, kissed it all over, and then suckled my nipple, nibbling at it.

I was getting hard, and she must have felt it, or at least predicted it, because I felt her hands drifting down to my cock.

“You’re insatiable.”

“If you’re too sore, we don’t have to go again.”

She eased off her towel and straddled my waist, the tip of my cock rubbing against her swollen pussy lips. She arched her head back, sighing as she sank down onto my cock.

“It feels too good.”

“You’re a little addict, huh?”

“That’s right, daddy, you’ve gotten me addicted to that cock. I’m—addickted.”

I slapped her ass playfully for that. She leaned forward, riding me, fucking me for once, her hair forming a golden veil around us, our faces inches apart. Her mouth was open in a silent gasp, and every time I tried to lean up to kiss her, she pulled away, grinning.

What began as slow, grinding sex quickly became more aggressive as she pounding her hips down onto my cock, grimacing each time my cock impaled her. She leaned back, bouncing on my, her wet hole gripping and sucking my cock as she flicked her clit, her lip curling up in pleasure and pain.

“I’m getting close, Daddy. That’s… fuck, I don’t know, seven?” She leaned her head back, sinking down onto my cock and cumming, her muscles spasming around my cock. Still, she kept moving, and ask her mouth dropped open, slack with pleasure, she whimpered. “Are you close?”

“Almost. You’ve milked me dry this morning.”

“Good. I want every drop of your cum.”

Now, Maisie draped herself over me once more, kissing me hard, her hair going everywhere as she bucked against me, fucking me so hard it almost hurt, panting and crying into my mouth—actually crying, I saw the tears—and that pushed me over the edge, my newest orgasm ripping through me, my hips arching up as I pressed into her, as deep as I could. I felt my cock twitch as my sticky load flooded her and then, finally, she collapsed on top of me, panting.

She rolled off me and back into my arms, and we lay there for a good ten or fifteen minutes, enjoying the afterglow. Then, with a sigh, she heaved herself to her feet.

“Right. Your lads are getting in this afternoon. I’ve got to get their rooms ready.” She stood, and wobbled. “Wow. You really fucked me up.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“The best way, darling,” she called from the bathroom.

Lars and the others arrived that afternoon, and I didn’t see Maisie till evening, when we all came back from a pub twenty miles or so from the inn, at the base of a rather impressive mountain—Scotland is lousy with such locales. She remembered the whisky flights for the other boys, and proved herself to be a perfectly charming, relatively unsassy host with them.

“You’re being much better behaved with them,” I told her later that evening, after we were all well in our cups and she’d put the Cranberries on the record player.

“You’ve tamed me, somewhat,” she whispered, leaning into me, kissing my neck. “I want to sleep with you tonight but it’s late and my dad will start to ask questions if I’m not back. And I don’t want to keep you from the lads.”

“You can hang out with us. They like you.”

“I like them. I like seeing you with them. It’s quite cute.” She kissed me. “But I know if I don’t leave now, I’m going to stay with you all night, and you’re going to rip my arse open all over again, and I won’t be able to get up and make yous breakfast, so I’m going to be a very remarkably good girl and say goodnight now.”

After she’d left, Lars raised his eyebrows, and another glass of whisky.

“So, that kiss.”

“Man, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Pour me another and try me.”

~

That’s it for now. Look for the third part, coming… hopefully soon.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wz6jfe/remember_that_adorably_bratty_20year_old_scottish