Tiffany was on all fours on her bed licking Vinny’s balls when she heard the familiar car horn in the driveway.  “Omigod, it’s Daddy!”

       Vincenzo, who was reclining naked on his back, reached down to collar his girlfriend by the back of the neck.  “So what?” he challenged, preventing her from extracting herself from between his muscular thighs.

       “Let go,” she squealed.  “Are you crazy?  My Dad will come up here and kill us both!”

       “The door’s locked, isn’t it?”

       “No, Daddy won’t let me lock my bedroom door.  Please, Vinny!”

       Vinny released her, but when she tried to sit up, he clamped his hand on her wrist.  “You can’t get off the bed till you finish me off.”

       Tiffany looked at him in total disbelief. 

       “I’m serious, Tiffany.”  Vinny reached behind his head, under her lace-covered pillow for the handcuffs they sometimes played with.  Employing minimal effort, he cinched one of the bracelets on her wrist and the other on his own.  “There, maybe now you’ll believe me.”

       She lifted her chained hand, irrevocably tied to his.  “You’re insane!  Get up and get the key now!”

       “Not till I come.”

       Tiffany heard the front door.  “You already did, in the den!”

       It was true, the evidence was inside her, dripping out even now, along with her own juices.  Vinny had laid her on the carpet on her Daddy’s floor and screwed the daylights out of her.  Though she hadn’t peaked herself, she’d gotten as close with the boy as she had with any of the others.  What she needed now was a vibrator.  And about fifteen extra minutes of time to get Vinny out of here, clean the sweat and cum off her body and put on something daughterly and virginal.

       Vinny put his free hand behind his head like he had all the time in the world.  “You’re being selfish, Tiff.  You need to learn that sex centers on the penis, for both partners.”

       Tiffany could hear her father rummaging around downstairs.  Skipper was distracting him for the moment, but he’d be on the prowl again soon.  Shit, where was mom when she needed her?  Talk about selfish!  Taking a deep breath, Tiffany moved her lips into position for a blowjob.

       “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned.  “Takes too long.”

       “Fuck!” she cried.  “Then what am I supposed to do?”

       “Ride me.”

       “This is crazy,” she muttered, lifting herself over his leg, mounting her totally hot, hard-bodied new man at the totally wrong time.  “Way crazy.”

       “Tiff?  Mel?” she heard her father call.  “Where in blazes are you girls?  Don’t you know what time it is?”

       Tiffany wailed in frustration.  “We’re not gonna make it!”

       “Try going faster.”

       Planting her bare feet, she hankered down like a piston.  It was a tight squeeze.  Vinny was a big boy and she was a small girl.  Five-foot-three, one ten, dripping wet.  An inch shorter than her mother, and eight pounds less, thank you very much.

       Up went Tiff, and down again, like a jack in the box.  “Daddy’s gonna kill me!” she grunted, accelerating into a furious pace.

       He was on the stairs.  She could hear him.  If he came in here before checking the master bedroom for Mom, Tiff was a goner.

       Vinny grabbed her hips, urging her on.  The friction was incredible.  Sweat beaded on her forehead, her full young tits flopped with the furious motion, but she didn’t care.  She had to satisfy her man and if she didn’t, he wouldn’t let her go and her father would find her out.  Vinny was in control and all she could do was give in, providing him the pleasure he demanded.

       “Come on, Tiff, that’s it, baby.  Move your body.”

       He put his hand over her mouth just as she started to scream.  Tiff couldn’t help it now; coming was the only thing in her universe.  That and Vinny’s erupting dick.  Over the top they went, both of them together, over the falls in that wild barrel called mutual orgasm.

       It was the boy who came to his senses first.  “Get up, Tiff,” he shook her, trying to rouse her collapsed body off of his.  “He’ll be here any second.”

       Dreamily, Tiffany took back her newly freed wrist.  The silk robe was on the floor.  She was at the door, cinching the belt just as her father’s hand was turning the knob.