"Well, what do you think?" Pat said uneasily. She stood before her daughter, Trish, wearing the skimpy little black costume required for her new job at the Tango Club.
Trish, a petite blonde of eighteen, eyed her mother, then smiled. "You look terrific, Mom," she said. "You're gonna have the customers falling right out of their chairs."
"You don't think this costume is too revealing, then?" Pat said.
"Oh, Mom, don't worry about that," Trish laughed. "We're not living in the Victorian era any more."
But her smile faded as she watched her mother nervously parading around the room in the little black costume. Pat was gorgeous, that was for sure, but how long would she look that way? She worked so hard. She'd worked hard for five years to keep Trish dressed and fed. And this new job would involve working half the night.
"Mom," Trish said, "it isn't fair for you to be the only one in the family earning money. My summer vacation's just starting. Don't you think I should get a job, too?"
"No, Trish, I definitely don't," Pat said. "I want you to spend the summer on your studies, getting ready for college. I can handle the money problems."
Trish didn't agree, but she knew it was no use to argue. Once Pat had made up her mind, that was it. But secretly Trish had no intention of obeying her mother. She'd just go out and get a job and not tell Pat. She could earn enough money to buy her school clothes in the fall, maybe even save some for college. She felt it just wasn't right for Pat to work so hard.
"Well, I've got to get to work," Pat said, putting a coat on over her costume. "I'm sorry I'll have to be leaving you alone at nights, honey."
"Hey, don't worry about it, Mom," Trish said, forcing a smile. "I'm a big girl now. I just hope your first night on the job goes great."
Pat smiled and hurried out the door. No sooner had she driven away than Trish started walking downtown. Their large mid-Western town would have to have some job waiting for her, she was sure. And if she could work at nights, just like Pat did, her mother would never know she'd been out of the house.
In half an hour of brisk walking Trish came to the business district, and the first place she noticed was the Tango Club. There was a sign in the window, "Help Wanted." At first Trish was going to pass right by, thinking she couldn't possibly work at the same place as her mother. Then on impulse she decided to check it out. She might get a job in the kitchen, where Pat would never come.
Trish went in the back door of the place and encountered the chef, an enormous man in a white hat and apron.
"I'm looking for a job," she said. "Do you need any kitchen help?"
"Yeah, we still need a couple bus girls," the fat man said. "You just go right down this hall to the boss' office. Name's Mr. Spalding. He'll check you out."
"Thanks," Trish said.
She felt a little spark of excitement as she approached Brock Spalding's office. Her mother had mentioned that the boss was quite attractive and not all that old. She was curious to see the man her mother worked for. She knocked on the door, and Spalding called for her to come in.
Pat had been right – Brock Spalding was sexy as hell. Trish flushed a little as she spoke. "Mr. Spalding, my name is Trish Adams and I'm looking for a job. I'm told you need bus girls."
Brock was eyeing her intently, taking in her five-feet-thee curvy little figure. Trish was wearing tight jeans and a clinging pink jersey, and the outfit showed off her pert little ass, tiny firm waist, and adorable apple-size breasts. She was a very pretty girl with long blonde hair, big blue eyes and a snub nose.
"Adams?" Brock said. "You aren't any relation to Pat Adams, are you?"
"Well, yes, she's my mother," Trish said, "but please don't tell her I applied here. She thinks I'm too young to work. But I'd really like to have that job, Mr. Spalding. We sure could use the money."
Spalding grinned and leaned back in his desk chair. "Okay, I won't tell," he said. "I think you'll do for the job, Trish, if you look okay in the costume."
"Costume?" Trish said. "But I only want to be a bus girl."
"All the girls at the club wear costumes," Brock said, "even the kitchen help. You'll be clearing off tables in the restaurant, people will see you. So I want all my girls to be knockouts. Here, try this on."
He took a small box from his desk and handed it to Trish. She opened it and removed a tiny pink costume, like a skimpy bathing suit. She didn't feel embarrassed like Pat had done. She was excited about wearing such a cute outfit. She looked eagerly at Spalding.
"Where can I try it on?" she said.
"Just put it on here," Brock replied. "We're all one big family at the club. We don't stand on formalities."
Trish didn't think another thing about it. She was a modern girl and didn't have any of her mother's old-fashioned modesty and hang-ups. Certainly she wasn't ashamed to show her young healthy body. She wasn't thinking of Spalding's reactions anyhow. She was wondering how she'd look in that pretty little pink costume.
"Okay, Mr. Spalding," she chirped.
She started pulling off her jersey, and Brock Spalding leaned back in his chair with a lusty grin, his dark eyes glued to the young girl's figure. Trish didn't know it, but he was powerfully turned on by the idea of conquering both mother and daughter. In his opinion Trish didn't have her mother's startling beauty, but she was a sexy looking little chick, plenty sexy.
Trish removed her jersey, and Brock eyed her perky apple-size tits which strained in the tight confinement of her little bikini-style bra. The girl didn't even blush as she unzipped her jeans and drew them off revealing matching white bikini panties. Her petite body was silky-skinned and perfect.
Humming to herself, Trish unhooked her bra and casually drew it off. Her adorable little tits were perfectly firm and pointed, capped with tiny pink nipples. Brock licked his lips and tried to keep a horny leer off his face. But that was hard to do when she began to slip down her panties.
Brock felt mounting excitement when he saw the cute little globes of her ass and then her tiny golden-blonde bush, just a sweet little puff of curls that hardly concealed the fresh pink flesh of her pussy. Then the girl bent over to step into the costume, and Brock nearly came right out of his chair.
She had her back to him, and as she bent he could see the delicate moist pink of her gash. He saw the tiny red dot of her clit, her plump little pussylips, and the little shadowed mouth of her cunt. Even her brownie was cute, just a little pink pucker. Brock suppressed a horny sigh.
Trish stepped into the little pink costume and pulled on the fragile shoulder straps. The outfit fit her like a glove, showing every delectable curve of her teenage body. Brock could see the tiny stiff nubs of her nipples and even the little pout of her bush under the skin-tight cloth.
Trish paraded before him without a trace of self-consciousness. "Well, how does it look?" she said.
"Great," Brock sighed, "just great. I'm sure you'll work out just fine, honey. We just have to check one more thing."
Trish suddenly hung her head and blushed. "Mr. Spalding," she said, "I don't have any experience. I might as well tell you that now. But I learn fast, and I'll do a good job, I promise."
"Honey, that wasn't what I meant," he said with a grin. "And please call me Brock. I'm not worried about your lack of experience, Trish. What concerns me is your attitude. I mean, I like my people to feel like one big family."
"Gee, that's fine with me, Mr. – I mean, Brock," Trish said, giving him a big smile. "I'm sure I'll tit me."
"Probably," Brock said, "but I have to make sure."
He got up from behind his desk and came to stand very close to Trish. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. Trish felt a sudden burning excitement. Brock Spalding was about the sexiest guy she'd ever seen. It aroused her powerfully to have him touching her. His hands felt firm and hot on her bare shoulder.
"Trish," he said gently, "I don't quite know how to explain this, but it isn't enough for you just to do a good job. You have to please me in every way. Like this, for instance."
He leaned down and kissed her, drawing her warm curvy little body tight against him. Trish was surprised but not frightened. She'd just begun to date and had kissed only a few boys, and she found that Brock did it much better than the kids she'd been out with. She got off on the way he slid his tongue deep into her mouth and probed around.
"Ummmmm," Trish murmured.
She melted against him, letting him explore her mouth with his tongue and run his hands up and down her firm little body. It felt very nice and very exciting to the inexperienced teenage girl. She saw nothing wrong in it, either. It seemed perfectly natural that he should want to kiss her and touch her.
"Let's sit down, Trish," Brock said huskily.
He took her hand and led her over to the leather couch. It was the same couch where, unknown to her, he'd balled her mother just a few hours earlier. Brock himself was very much aware of that fact, and it gave him a sense of wicked excitement. He sat down beside Trish, so close that their thighs touched.
"I'm really turned on to you, baby," he said hoarsely. "I mean if you worked here, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you."
Trish felt flattered that the handsome older man should be so powerfully attracted to her. She didn't resist when Brock kissed her again. This time he eased her down on her back and lay half on top of her. Trish had never gone farther than kissing before, and she felt hotly excited to have his hard male body pressing against her.
"You can start work tonight, Trish," he said, nuzzling her neck, "but I want you to stay with me here for awhile and have a little fun."
"Okay, Brock," she said innocently. She didn't know what he meant by having fun, but so far it had been really exciting to be with him.
Brock went on kissing her, pinning her down with his body, and now he slipped down the slender straps of her costume. Trish sensed that it wasn't quite right when he uncovered her pert little boobs, but it was so exciting that she couldn't bear to refuse him. He cupped her sweet little jugs and began massaging and fondling the satiny warm flesh.
"Ummmmm," Trish murmured in surprise, "that feels nice."
"Nobody ever did that to you before?" Brock said.
"Uh-uh," Trish said. "I've only been out with a few boys."
Brock grinned lustily. It was a helluva turn-on making love to this delicious teenage girl, especially with the secret knowledge that he'd fucked her gorgeous mother on that very same couch. But most exciting of all was the likelihood that the girl was a virgin.
Brock bent down over her adorable little boobs and stuck out his gleaming red tongue. He trailed it wetly over the creamy-pale flesh of her boobs, digging the satiny texture of her flawless skin. He used the slick tip of his tongue to tickle her tiny pink nipples, quickly arousing the soft buds into stiffness.
"Oooooo," Trish squealed.
It was the first time a man had really made love to her, and she was overwhelmed to find out how nice it felt. She was getting rapidly excited, so excited that she forgot all caution and all common sense. Something in the back of her mind told her that Pat wouldn't approve of this scene, but Trish was too aroused to care.
Brock seized one of her hard little nipples between his lips and sucked it deep into the heat and wetness of his mouth. He started sucking hard and fast on her tender little nipple, and Trish felt burning excitement. There was a strange glowing and melting sensation down in her virgin silt, a hot arousal she'd never experienced before.
Some of the older girls at school had talked about being "horny", and Trish guessed that this was what they meant. Her hot little pussy was getting very wet and steamy, moistening the crotch of her costume. She felt like she wanted Brock to go on holding and petting and sucking her forever. His sucking mouth felt fantastically good on her tender little tit.
"Ohhhhh, that's nice," she sighed. "I really like that, Brock."
Brock let her wet stiff nipple pop from his lips and said, "I know something you'd like even better, honey."
Without waiting for her to reply, he began slipping down her costume. She was already naked to the waist, and quickly he uncovered the pert little globes, of her ass and the delicate blonde puff of her bush. Now Trish was sure her mother wouldn't approve; but she was too wildly excited to protest. Brock pulled her skimpy pink suit all the way off and dropped it on the floor.
His eyes gleamed lustily as he eyed Trish's adorable curvy firm body. She didn't have her mother's spectacular big-breasted figure, but she was damned delicious to look at. He placed a hand on the soft warm curls of her muff and began to rub gently. Trish's big blue eyes widened.
"Oh, gosh, Brock," she sighed, "I don't think we oughta be doing this. I mean, Mom would have a fit."
"She doesn't have to know anything about it," Brock said, still petting the girl's adorable little golden bush. "She works in the bar section, never comes near here. She won't even know you work here."
His voice was hypnotically soothing, and so was the gentle but steady pressure of his hand on her muff. Trish sighed and lay back limp and flushed. She really knew she should stop him, but it felt so nice and so exciting. Then Brock parted the furry lips of her muff and exposed the tiny red button of her clit.
"Did anybody ever touch you here?" he said.
"No," Trish said. "What is it?"
Brock chuckled and said, "That's your clit, honey, your joy button. And this is how it feels."
He pressed a fingertip against the moist red bud and started to rub. Instantly Trish felt the most stunning pleasure of her young life. A hot melting sensation flashed through her pussy, and her snug little box started to leak steamy sticky juice. No way in the world could she resist pleasure like that, even if it was wrong for him to touch her there.
"Oooooo," she squealed, "that feels terrific."
Brock grinned wickedly. He felt he had an excellent chance of scoring with this innocent little chick. But he wanted to be absolutely sure, to get her really hot for him, so he went on stroking the moist slick button of her clit, making Trish squeal and moan and cream hot cunt-juice all over his fingers.
"Oh, wow," she whimpered, "out of sight."
Brock kept massaging the sensitive lump of her clit, and with another finger he gently probed the super-tight mouth of her oozing little twat. Now he was sure the girl was a virgin. He was hardly able to get the tip of his finger inside her exquisitely snug cunt-mouth. Not wanting to hurt her, he withdrew the finger and just rimmed her twat-mouth.
"Ummmmm, yes," Trish sighed. "That feels great, too, Brock."
She was so absorbed in the delicious feelings radiating from her pussy that she didn't notice anything else for quite awhile. She just lay there with her shapely coltish legs slightly parted, letting him frig her clit and cunt. Then Brock snugged even closer to her, lying half on top of her, and Trish felt something rock-hard against her thigh. She reached down and touched a big stiff lump in his pants.
"Oh, my gosh," the girl exclaimed, "what's that?"
Brock snorted with amusement. "That's my cock, honey," he laughed. "Haven't you ever seen one before?"
"No, I haven't," Trish said eagerly. "Could I look at it, Brock? Please?"
Brock couldn't trust himself to reply, he was so amused and so turned on by the girl's incredible innocence. He just unzipped his fly and quickly tugged his pants and shorts off. Trish's blue eyes widened enormously as she looked at a cock for the very first time. Brock's thick seven-inch dick was stiff and swollen and weeping big bright bubbles of juice.
"Oh, wow," Trish gasped, "it's huge."
It was weird-looking, too, in her opinion, not at all like her own dainty curl patch and little pink slit. But she found his big stiff cock handsome, even exciting. She studied his swollen red balls, his crisp black bush, the long pale stalk of his prick, and the big swollen knob of his cock-head.
"Could I touch it, please, Brock?" she said shyly.
"Sure, honey, go ahead," Brock sighed.
Trish reached out timidly but eagerly and ran her little hand up and down the hot throbbing pole of his cock. She found it smooth and silky and pleasant to touch. She tested the feel of his coarse black bush-hairs and rosy swollen nut sacs, then trailed her fingers back up to the fat purple head of his cock. His prick-juice was hot and sticky.
She could have gone on happily exploring her first cock for a long time, but Brock was panting and flushed and far too excited to wait. He didn't want to come in her hand, not when he had a virgin cunt right there waiting for him. Gently he pushed her hand away from his achingly swollen meat and rolled on top of her, sinking between her warm silky thighs.
"Hey, Brock, what are you doing?" Trish squeaked.
"Fucking you, baby," he said hoarsely. "You'll dig this, too."
Trish was suddenly alarmed. She'd gone way too far without even noticing it, but she knew it was wrong to fuck this man. She squeaked in fright and pushed against his shoulders, trying to shove him off her, but he was too heavy for her to move. She felt the huge hard head of his cock pressing urgently against the tiny mouth of her virgin box.
"Hey, Brock, no," she yelped.
It was too late, Brock grunted, pushed, and popped the fat hard head of his dick inside her tiny virgin cunt-mouth. Trish gasped as he worked his way deeper, feeling his thick meat stuffing her tight little cunt till she could hardly breathe. It didn't hurt, but she was frightened, afraid that he'd split her in half.
"Oh, Brock, nooo," she whined. "It's too big."
"No it's not, honey," he panted, furiously aroused by the knowledge that he was popping her cherry. "You just relax and dig it, honey, and it'll feel great. I promise."
Trusting him, Trish did as he said, going limp and submissive beneath him. Brock pushed gently but steadily, till his thick seven-inch prick was touching her womb and his swollen hot balls rested against her slick little gash. Trish started to feel a strange excitement between her legs, a hot urgency that made her tight little cunt cream all around his steel-hard cock.
"Ummmmm," she moaned.
"Feeling better?" Brock panted.
"Yes," the girl sighed. "Yes, it feels really good now, Brock."
He sighed and began to fuck her, not in the hard savage way he'd balled her mother, but in deep slow delicious strokes. He felt her nails digging into his shoulders, felt her hot cunt-juice boiling around his dick, heard her shrill little cries – and knew that she was digging his fucking. The girl had inherited her mother's hot sensual nature.
"Oh, wow, YES," Trish squealed, "keep doing it to me, Brock. Wow, I really dig fucking. I didn't know it would feel so great."
Brock had a helluva time holding out. It was so tempting to come in her seething-hot super-snug box. But he wanted the pretty teenager to dig it to come back for more, so he gritted his teeth and sawed away steadily till he brought her off. Trish moaned loudly, and her curvy little body rocked beneath him.
"Oh, my gosh," she cried, "what's happening?"
"You're coming, baby," Brock gasped, "and so am I."
He couldn't hold out a second longer. He moaned and filled her tiny cunt with sizzling-hot come. Trish's blue eyes were wide with wonder and delight as she experienced her very first orgasm.
Even after Brock rolled off her, she lay sighing and writhing.
"Well, you better get to work now, kid," he said, handing her her costume. "The cook will tell you what to do."
"Okay, Brock," she sighed.
As Trish wandered dreamily off to the kitchen, she wondered how much Brock cared about her. She hoped it was a whole lot. She was young, yes, but if she played her cards right she could be married to Brock some day. She'd have the man of her dreams, and she and her mother would never have to worry about money again.
"I've got to have him," Trish sighed to herself, "I've just got to."