The Dirty Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee



But the redhead’s shook her head somberly, biting her lip.

“No Daddy, she did it all in three years. She was sleeping with these guys simultaneously, just waiting for one to bite. It wasn’t even a question of ‘if,’ it was a question of ‘when.’”

And in that instant, I realized I’d been a fucking dunce. A dunce who’d been ruled by my dick. Because Lorena had been fucking multiple men simultaneously with the strategy of getting a rich man’s ring on her finger and it had worked. There’d been a ton of targets and I was the sucker who’d pulled the trigger, who’d made her legit, and now look what had happened. I had a disgusting, lazy ass wife whose daughter I was trying to boff. What a fucking cliché.

“But how do you know she’s tried for kids?” I asked carefully. Shit, what did these other guys know that I didn’t?

“Because Mr. Jennings over in the North Shore said the only way he’d marry her was if she got pregnant. So Lorena was taking all these pre-natal vitamins, going to the doctor all the time to get her cycle checked, but nothing worked. I still remember when Mr. Jennings threw us out,” said Cleo quietly. “It was so humiliating, we had to live in our car for a while.”

And I could only imagine. I knew Len Jennings from some business dealings and the asshole was the type who bragged about his conquests, his billion dollar fortune, when everyone knew he’d filed for bankruptcy twice in the last ten years. Cleo had dodged a bullet as far as I was concerned.

“So is that what this is all about?” I asked. “You and your mom have gone through some hard times and because I’m the rich guy who’s finally made life easy, you feel like you owe me?”

And the redhead shook her head.

“No of course not Daddy, it’s not that I feel like I owe you, it’s that …”

“It’s that what?” I prompted gently.

“Okay, maybe it is,” she confessed. “I want to pay you back for the kindness you’ve shown. I know it’s not the best of circumstances, but I want to love you, show you how much I appreciate what you’ve done. I want you too,” she breathed, her eyes skimming up and down my masculine form, taking in the erection that was starting up again. “I want to feel you inside me, I want you to be my first.”

I was so tempted right then to blow-off my newfound ethics, to say fuck it and take that little girl hard, dirty, right on the ottoman where she was sitting. But instead, I did the right thing.

“Baby, you’re too young,” I said gently. “You don’t know how the world works. You’re still a baby, little girl, you don’t know what you want.”

Cleo’s cheeks colored.

“I know I want you,” she said teasingly, coming to stand beside me, putting her arms around my shoulders. Oh god, her tits were in my face again, her waist so small that my big hands immediately circled them, almost touching each other around that small span. “Please Daddy,” she breathed again, her voice soft and slippery in my ear. “Pretty please.”

And it took the restraint of Hercules, but I did it. I resisted. I pushed her back so that we were no longer touching, and took a deep breath.

“Honey, you think you’ve seen a lot but you haven’t,” I said gently. “You’re what … seventeen?”

“Eighteen,” she corrected immediately. And I smiled internally. Of course I knew Cleo was eighteen, I’d been counting the days until she was ready, ripe, and legal. But I pretended otherwise.

“Of course, you’re eighteen now,” I said smoothly, “but you don’t know yourself. How could you possibly know that I’m the man for you?”

“I know,” she said stubbornly, again pulling that skirt down her creamy thighs. It was futile, the fabric bounced right back up whenever she yanked it down. “I know because I’m Lorena’s daughter and I’ve been following her all these years, seeing my mom engage in all sorts of backhand deals. So I know a lot more than you think.”

And that was true, to an extent.

“But honey, have you dealt with men before?” I said gently. “Not your mom, you.”

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