Chapter 2
As Kim walked around the campus late that afternoon, she thought about what her new room-mate had said. It was beginning to make more and more sense to the blonde, freshman girl-especially as she looked at all the handsome, young studs who were strolling around the campus.
What was it that Jenny had called them? Oh, yes, yummies. Well, it was still warm and most of the guys were wearing shorts and T-shirts and Kim had to admit that they certainly did look yummy.
The blonde sat down on a bench in front of the student union building and watched all the guys passing by. Of course, girls passed by too, but Kim didn't pay much attention to them.
A cute, little, dark-haired guy came walking by with a bunch of books under his arm. Obviously an industrious student, Kim thought. Classes had not even started yet and he had already been to the library. And he was wearing cut-offs that showed off his tanned, muscular legs too. How did a scholar get such strong legs, Kim wondered. Maybe by running back and forth to the library three or four times a day.
A blonde, tanned guy in a tank-top and a pair of tight, faded jeans strolled by too. He was talking to a girl who was walking along with him, and Kim picked up just a bit of their conversation.
"Anything you want to know about classes or professors," the guy said, "you just ask me. I'm a junior already. There's not much about this college I don't know."
"Yeah, I think I'm really going to need some help," the girl said, flirting with him just as he was flirting with her.
Kim smiled at that mutual pick-up technique-one that was probably very common on a college campus. Then she suddenly noticed that someone was staring at her. She looked across the street and saw the man standing there.
He was a tall, thin man and he wore his hair long. There were streaks of gray in that hair that made him look slightly distinguished. But he was wearing a pair of jeans and a work shirt. Those clothes made him look approachable, Kim thought.
But he was the one who approached her. He came sauntering across the street and stood right in front of her and looked down on the little, sexy blonde.
"Are you a writer?" he asked.
"No," she said, "I'm a freshman."
The man sat down next to Kim on the bench. "New on the campus then?" he asked.
"Brand new. This is my first day."
"My name is Brad," the man said. "I teach writing here."
"A professor?" the girl asked.
"No. Just an instructor. I've been an instructor for a long, long time."
"Oh," Kim said. She was not sure what the difference was between a professor and an instructor, but she sensed a wee bit of anger in the man's tone as he talked about his job at the college.
"I wondered if you were a writer," Brad said, "because you were obviously eaves-dropping on that couple."
"I'm sorry," Kim muttered.
"Nothing to be sorry about," Brad said. "Writers eaves-drop all the time. Restaurants are good for that. Better than bars. In bars, they usually have music playing and you can't hear conversations. But, in restaurants, you can listen as people re-live their whole lives over a salad. Outside is nice too. But people are on the move and you just catch bits of their conversations. Then you have to add the rest of the story with your own imagination."
The man seemed to know what he was talking about, Kim thought, and she kept looking at those streaks of gray in his long hair. The little blonde found herself yearning to reach out and touch one of those gray slashes, as if she wanted to test the gray with her fingers and see if it was real.
"Maybe I should be a writer," Kim said. "I like listening to other people's conversations."
Brad turned and studied the little blonde, looked at the fine curve of her breasts under her T-shirt and at her tanned legs too.
"That is why I teach," he said. "It is a wonderful thing to find a young girl and see her change, develop into a real writer. That is one of the major joys of teaching. Molding and developing young talent. Then, of course, they leave you and wander off on their own. But most of them remember you and send you copies of their stories or poems when they are published."
"Your students have been published?" the girl chirped.
"I've been teaching for quite a while," the man explained.
Then the thin man looked out over the campus and spoke softly, as if he were talking more to himself than to Kim.
"I never married. I never had any children. The students who learn to write are like my children. But I guess that means I am a bad father."
"Why?" Kim asked.
The man turned to the blonde and grinned.
"Because, if the girls who learn to write in my classes are like my daughters, that means I've been incestuous with a few of them."
Kim could not help herself. Something in the way that Brad said the words made it funny-not shocking at all. She giggled and Brad chuckled and looked at her body again.
The blonde was still giggling when Brad said, "Would you like to come back to my apartment?"
Kim thought about the proposition, and, naturally, she thought about Harry, her boyfriend, too. For some reason, the girl thought she would not really be unfaithful to Harry if she went home with this older man. It was not as if she had fucked another college student. Another college student would be something like Harry himself, but this older man, this instructor, was entirely different. And he did look sexy.
And she thought that an experience with Brad might just be part of her real education.
"Okay," Kim said.
"I live in an apartment complex about a two blocks from here. I've lived there for years."
The next thing Kim knew she was walking across the campus with Brad, knowing what she was going to do when she got to his apartment and looking forward to that fine kind of education he could give her.
Brad's apartment was small and filled with books. They were stacked everywhere, even around the bed. Kim sat down on the edge of his bed and picked up one book. It was a volume of poetry. She opened it up and saw the inscription: "To Brad, who taught me so much about life and writing too." It was signed by the author, a young woman. Her picture was on the back of the book. She was smiling and she was wearing a tight, black sweater. She had big tits.
Brad sat down next to the blonde and looked at the volume of poetry too.
"Just one of my success stories," he said. "A few years ago, she was a freshman here just like you are today. Now she is one of the leading, young poets in the nation, and she's won a few awards. This is her third collection."
Kim looked at the title of the volume, "Daddy's Love Reigns."
She pointed at the title and said, "About her father?"
"About her father and about me and about a couple of other older men in her life," Brad said. "She has a thing for older men."
Older men. Kim considered the concept. She had never thought about fooling around with older men before. But here she was in Brad's apartment and he was an older man. In a way, the blonde could already understand what this female poet saw in men who were older. They were more mature, more sophisticated. They could have a conversation with you and they could probably fuck you with skill too. Older men had to pick up a little skill in all their years of screwing, the girl thought.
Kim opened the book of poetry and read a few lines out loud.
"The touch of the hand against my body, the touch of the fingers against my soul. You understand, Daddy, what it means to be bounced in the air and how it feels to be caught-giggling, breathless, on fire."
Perhaps it was the poetry. Perhaps it was Brad leaning close to her. Perhaps it was the thrill of the new experience. Perhaps it was a combination of all these things.
All Kim knew was that she sighed and fell back on the bed and lay there, soft and yearning for something to happen to her.
The blonde did not have to wait for long.
The man with the gray streaks in his hair moved in close to Kim and put his hand on one of her tits. As he squeezed that breast, he kissed her. She sighed and opened her mouth to the invasion of his tongue.
The kiss was long and thrilling, so thrilling that Kim did not even notice when Brad slipped his hand under her soft T-shirt and pushed it up so that he could feel her breasts without any garment at all getting in the way.
When the kiss was over, his hand was on her bare tit and he whispered to her.
"You can call me Daddy while we do it," he said. "The woman who published the book of poetry called me Daddy all the time. It thrilled her and it thrilled me too."
Then Brad gently pulled Kim up from the bed and slipped the T-shirt off her body and over her head. He undressed her as a daddy would undress a little girl.
Daddy. The sexy blonde found herself thinking of her own father-a business executive with a big gut who drank too much and worked too hard. She would never think of going to bed with her own father, of course, but there was something vaguely thrilling in the idea of screwing this man and moaning out, "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy." Kim thought that such experiences could be the stuff that poetry is made of.
The blonde lay back down on the bed and sighed as Brad opened her cut-offs and pulled them down her legs. He removed her little, tennis shoes and then he pulled the cut-offs off her body.
By that time, he was kneeling beside the bed and she was lying there in just a pair of white panties. Brad ran his fingers over her body as she lay there and slipped those fingers down to her panties. That touch made her whimper with delight.
"Oh, Daddy, your touch feels so good against my skin. Oh, Daddy, your fingers turn me on."
Yes, the girl decided, older men knew more about sex. She had to admit that, with Harry, it had always been very quick and almost brutal. But she knew that older men like Brad could never be brutal. They understood their little girls too well to be quick and rough.
Brad moved his face in close to her panties and kissed the white material. He stuck out his tongue and he licked her soft panties. Kim sighed. Harry had never done that for her.
The girl reached down and touched Brad's head, let her fingers trace some of the gray streaks in that hair. And she sighed to him as he licked and kissed at her panties-putting pressure on her pussy as he did that.
"Oh, Daddy, you make a little girl want to come."
Brad reached up as he licked on those panties and touched Kim's tits with his hands. He squeezed those bare breasts again and made the girl squirm with sexual fever.
"Oh, Daddy," she said. "That feels so good. That feels like my whole body is on fire. Oh, Daddy, you thrill me so much."
Then Brad moved on to another thrill. The girl gasped a little as he moved his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs and off her feet. She lay on the bed naked and Brad slipped his fingers through the cunt hair that was the color of rich, sweet honey.
Then he pressed his face against that hair and licked it slowly with his tongue. The girl felt something like soft, sexual eruptions rush through her body.
"Oh, Daddy," she moaned, "are you going to lick out my pussy? My little, sweet snatch?"
Daddy did not answer with words. He just put his fingers on the soft lips of Kim's pussy and spread them. He pressed his face against her sweet snatch and ran his tongue deep into her.
The blonde felt a fiery lust growing inside her as she reached down between her legs and touched the man's soft, graying hair again. She moaned to him in a voice that was as soft as good, sweet, slow sex.
"Oh, Daddy, I love it. I love the feel of your tongue in my little-girl pussy."
Brad loved the sound of her voice too, and he loved the things she was saying. Kim had caught on to the sexy game of daddy-and-little-girl quickly, and she seemed to be enjoying that game just as much as he did. She was certainly enjoying the tongue-lashing he was giving her pussy. The juices that rolled out of her sweet hole, the throbbing that he felt deep in her cunt told him that she enjoyed that sex immensely.
Brad had no trouble at all finding her sweet, little clit. He started to suck on that clitoris as he moved his hands under her naked body again. The girl sighed and slipped her legs around his shoulders and rubbed the bare heels of her feet against his back.
"Oh, Daddy," she whimpered. "You are going to make me come. Really come."
Brad just kept sucking on her sweet clitoris, and soon the blonde was coming. Coming in gasps and coming in moans. Coming with passion for her sweet, sexy daddy.
The writing instructor sucked her through her orgasm and then slowly moved his face away from her snatch and kissed and licked the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
Then he looked up from between her legs and smiled at her. She raised up on her arms and grinned down at him.
"Daddy, that felt so good," the girl said. "I want to be a good, little girl and do something for you now too."
"What do you want to do for your daddy?" Brad asked the blonde.
Kim put her finger to her lips and acted as if she were a little girl who was trying to think of something sweet to please her daddy-love.
Then she grinned and said, "I would like to suck your cock, Daddy."
Brad chuckled as he stood up and opened his shirt and pulled it off. The hair on his chest was streaked with gray too, Kim discovered. Then the writing instructor opened his pants and pushed them down. He had a long, thick prick and Kim's mouth started to water with need just as soon as she caught her first glimpse of that sexy daddy-tool.
"Oh, yes, Daddy," the girl said, "I really want to suck that thing of yours, I want to make you happy-as happy as you just made me when you sucked my pussy and made me come."
Naked, Brad dropped onto the bed next to the girl and smiled at her. He put his hand on his hardening meat and lifted it up for her.
"Daddy's cock is all yours, little girl," he said.
And Kim moved down the bed and grasped that tool in her fingers as she drew her sweet face closer to the rod.
"I bet my daddy's cock is the bestest, sweetest cock in the world," she said in a playful and childish tone. "I bet my daddy's cock is better than any other cock on any of my friends' daddies."
"You shouldn't make that judgment until you try out a few of your little friends' daddies too," the man said.
Kim smiled and thought about that possibility. All the other daddy-cocks out there just yearning to be sucked. And the blonde suddenly knew just how she would go about getting a real education here at college.
She would not worry about the male students who were near her age. That would not be fair to Harry, her boyfriend. No, she would satisfy her needs with older men and she would learn all she could about daddies while she was still young and fresh enough to thrill the older men too.