I'm sun baking by the pool in my skimpiest bikini, hoping to draw my stepdad's attention when Mr Harris pops his head over the neighbouring fence.

"Sara, my dear. It's so good to see you," his says gaze locked on my boobs, rather than my face.

I haven't seen our neighbour since last weekend when he saw daddy throw me over his shoulder and carry me inside after we had made each other come for the first time on this exact sun lounger.

"Hi, Mr Harris," I replied without making eye contact, hoping he won't linger too long and head back into his house. When he rests his arms over the fence, settling in, it was clear that would not be the case.

"I see you're out here all alone today. That's no fun!" His eyes roam over my body from head to toe. "Though I suppose there is a lot less fun happening now that your mother is back from her work trip," he says with a laugh. "Such a shame, as I rather enjoyed the show," he says.

I freeze, not knowing how to respond. I don't know how much he saw last weekend, but I know he saw enough.

"I wonder though... does your mother know just how well your daddy looked after you last weekend?"

"I-I don't know what you mean," I stammer.

"Come now, Sara dear. We both know I saw you two. You certainly have a talented mouth on you, don't you."

"Please don't tell my mom," I beg, close to crying. "I'll do anything, just please don't saying anything!"

"Anything? Is that so?" He pauses a moment as if considering. Dread fills me, as his eyes once again roam my body and I watch them darken with desire. "Come to my place in an hour and let's see if we can't work something out," he says. With that, he turns around and walks back into his house, throwing over his shoulder, "Leave the bikini on."

I flee the backyard and head straight to my bedroom in a panic. My stomach fills with dread, as I try to imagine what Mr Harris is going to make me do for him. Nothing good I'm sure. What I am sure of is that this is exactly what Mr Harris wanted all along. He wanted me to promise him anything and I have no choice but to do whatever he wants. Mom can never find out about me and daddy.

...... ...... ...... ......

An hour later I'm standing on Mr Harris' front porch. I ignore the knot in my stomach and knock on the door, not having to wait long for it to open to a smiling Mr Harris.

"Come in, Sara dear," he says warmly, like I'm just here to borrow some milk. He turns and walks back into the house and I have no choice but to follow. He leads me into his living room and takes a seat on the couch, picking up a glass of scotch that he must have set down when he answered the door. I stand awkwardly in the entrance to the room, unsure of what I should do next, and he lets me hover there without saying anything - almost like he is enjoying my discomfort.

I take a moment to look over Mr Harris. I am unsure of his exact age, but would place him somewhere in his mid-50's. His salt and pepper hair continues down through a trimmed beard that is always kept neat. He's quite fit for his age, his black shirt stretching nicely against his chest, and I remember that he often goes on runs around the block in the mornings before he leaves for work.

Finally breaking the silence, he beckons me into the room. "Come here, Sara. No need to be shy now, is there?" He smirks as he watches me make my way into the room and stand in front of him on the couch.

"Like I said before, I really did enjoy the show you and your daddy put on for me last weekend, but I now I want a closer look," he says, his eyes all over me. "I do like this little sundress you are wearing, so very pretty, but I much prefer you in that slutty little bikini you have on underneath." He pauses and takes a sip of his scotch. "Take it off," he says firmly.

"Wh-what?" I stammer.

His eyes snap to mine and he responds with a cold tone, "Let's discuss my conditions for staying quiet, shall we?" He stands from the couch and moves in front of me, towering over me. He grabs my chin firmly and tilts my head up so I am looking directly into his eyes.

"Firstly, you will not question me. If I ask you to do something, you will respond only with 'Yes, Sir'. Is that understood?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"Yes, what?" his grip on my chin tightens.

"Yes, Sir," I say immediately.

"Secondly, when you are in this house, you are mine. Mine to look at, mine to touch, mine to play with however I see fit. Follow these rules and I won't have to tell your mother what a naughty little girl you have been. Is that clear?"

I lower my eyes, defeated. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl." He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip and I give an involuntary gasp.

He smirks and lets go of my chin, returning to his spot on the couch, "Now that's settled, let's try again," he says. "Take it off."

This time I reply with a whispered "Yes, Sir", reaching for the hem of my sundress and pulling it over my head. I drop it next to me on the floor and stand there in nothing but my tiny string bikini.

"Turn around for me, I want to see that sweet ass I only got a glimpse of last weekend," he demands. "Nice and slow, so I can properly enjoy my view." I do as he asks, knowing I have no choice and hear him groan as he sees that my g-string bikini covers literally nothing.

"Now turn back around," he demands and I once again do as he says, my eyes meeting his, which are now black with his desire. "Pull down those cups and show me those tits you're always flaunting around the block in those tiny fucking t-shirts you seem to love." He hums as I follow his instructions.

"Go take a seat over there," he nods to the chair opposite where he is sitting. "Spread those legs for me and pull those bottoms to the side and let me see what's mine."

"Interesting..." he smirks when I carry out his latest demand. "Is this turning you on, my dear?" he asks.

"No!" I exclaim quickly.

My Harris' eyes snap up to mine, flashing with anger. "Do not lie to me, Sara," he growls. "I can see your pretty pussy glistening from here. Go on, touch yourself and see just how turned on you are," he demands.

I slowly run a single finger between my folds and instantly feel how wet I am. The shameful truth is I am turned on by him instructing me to do as he pleases. I just don't know why.

"Now I'll ask you again, are you turned on Sara?"

"Yes, Sir," I respond quietly, shame coursing through me.

"Good girl." His gaze lands back between my legs, where my finger is still lightly stroking through my wet centre. "Play with that pretty pussy, my dear. I want to see it drip for me."

No longer able to deny how much this turns me on, I moan at his words. I run a second finger through my centre, coating them both with my arousal and bring them up to my clit. I rub firm circles around my clit, arching into the touch as it shoots sparks of pleasure through my body, already craving more.

Mr Harris sits calmly across from me, drinking his scotch, seemingly unaffected by the site in front of him. But when I glance down at his lap, it's clear he is not as unaffected as he makes out. The outline of his erection is straining against the zipper of his jeans, evidence he is enjoying the view. The thought of his hard cock makes my mouth water and I am suddenly desperate to please him as much as possible, his blackmail no longer my main motivation.

Without any instruction, I sink two fingers knuckle deep into my pussy and pump them in and out at a steady rhythm. My breathing starts to increase, as I feel my pussy clench around my fingers. Knowing I'm not far off climaxing, I bring my other hand to my breasts and pinch my nipple hard. I gasp as the delicious pain sends a bolt of pleasure straight to my core.

"Uh uh, that's enough!" Mr Harris says sternly, shaking his head. "I don't recall telling you to make yourself come, did I?" he asks. "Only good girls get to come and you haven't earned that yet, have you?"

"No, Sir," I respond, removing my fingers from my pussy "Sorry, Sir."

"In fact," he smirks, "I haven't forgotten about your lie earlier," he says sternly. "You've been a naughty girl, my dear. Lying to me. Lying to your poor mother. Lying your pretty little body underneath your daddy."

Apprehension, mixed with a heady dose of excitement, licks at body at his words.

He takes a long pull of scotch and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "Naughty girls need to be punished and you, my dear, have certainly earned a good spanking," he says darkly. "Come here now. Over my lap," he demands.

Unable to deny his demands, and no longer wanting to, I rise from the chair on shaky legs. When I reach his side, Mr Harris grabs me by the wrist and with a firm tug pulls me over his lap. He locks one arm around my waist and I gasp when I feel his erection twitch against my stomach. He grunts when I wiggle in his grasp and tightens his hold around my waist keeping me locked firmly in place.

My breathing picks up speed as he runs his hand over my ass, squeezing first one cheek and then the other. Anticipation builds as I wait for the first hit. Without warning his hand comes down on my left cheek with a loud crack and I hiss in shock at the sharp sting. Fuck, it stung more than I thought it would! The second smack comes down on my right cheek quickly, managing to take me by surprise again. This time though, I welcome the sting and my breath comes out as more of a moan. I can feel my pussy leaking arousal onto his thighs.

"Hmmm it seems like you're enjoying your punishment just a little too much, my dear," Mr Harris growls. "We can't have that, now can we?" With that, he rains down quick slaps, alternating each cheek, the intensity increasing as he goes until my ass feels like it's on fire. We are both breathing hard when his hand finally stills.

"Fuck me, your ass looks good covered in my hand prints," he groans. I feel his erection throb underneath me and I moan at the thought of taking him into my mouth, tasting his arousal. My moan quickly turns into a gasp when he plunges two fingers straight into my pussy without warning.

"Your cunt is soaking wet," he says as he pumps his fingers a couple of times, my pussy coating his hand. "Such a little slut for her punishment, aren't you?"

I groan as his fingers continue to play with my pussy, but give no attention to my clit which is now throbbing with need. I try to wiggle on his lap and create some friction, but his firm grip around my waist hasn't loosened and it's no use. I grunt in frustration and Mr Harris chuckles darkly above me.

He leans down and I feel his warm breath across my cheek. "So desperate to come, my dear," he murmurs into my ear. "But you haven't earned it yet," he growls. "You've been punished, but I have yet to be rewarded for keeping your dirty little secret."

He clutches my hair in a firm grip and yanks my head up to look at him. "I deserves to be rewarded, don't I?" he says.

My response is immediate, "Yes, Sir."

"On your knees," he demands, eyes blazing.

I grin and slide off his lap, settling on my knees between his legs. Needing no further instruction, I reach up and unbutton his jeans, the zipper hissing as I pull it down. I yank down his jeans and briefs, freeing his hard cock. He unbuttons his shirt, displaying his solid chest covered in a smattering of salt and pepper hair. I wrap my hand around the base of his thick cock, my fingers barely touching.

"I'm a lot thicker than your daddy, my dear," he smirks down at me. "Let's see if you can still get me to the back of that pretty throat."

I stretch my lips around his cock, his thickness definitely hindering how deep I can take him. I pull back and lick long strokes up the length of his cock, getting it nice and slick. I let my saliva pool in my mouth and then spit on him, watching as it runs down the length of his cock to his balls. With his cock now nice and wet, I suck him back into my mouth, taking him in as far as I can. I take long, languid pulls on his cock, sucking my way over every hard inch and swirling my tongue around the tip before plunging back down. He hits the back of my mouth and I open my throat feeling him slip in. I swallow around the head of cock and I hear his guttural groan. His hands fist my hair and he begins to fuck my mouth, driving his cock in and out of my mouth with punishing thrusts, making my eyes water.

"You forgot who's in control here, little girl," he growls, his relentless pounding seemingly a punishment for exactly that.

I submit to his control as his grasp holds my head in place and he chases his pleasure. He pushes himself back down my throat, my nose buried against his pelvis, and he holds me there. I choke around his cock, trying to breathe deep through my nose and fight my gag reflex. Finally he pulls me off his cock and I suck in a deep breath, a string of my salvia dripping from my lips.

"Your mouth is fucking heaven," he groans, capturing the saliva on his fingers and pushing it back into my mouth making me choke again.

He replaces his fingers with his cock and pushes back in. I suck hard, hollowing out my cheeks and he groans deep. I feel his cock thicken against my tongue and I know he is close to his release. I focus on the tip of his cock, running my tongue on the sensitive underside and he throws his head back against the back of the couch with a deep groan.

"Fuuuuuck, I'm coming!" he roars and his salty cum floods my mouth. "Do not swallow a drop," he grits out, eyes stills closed, as he comes down from his release.

I sit back on my heels, keeping his release on my tongue. He sits up, tucking his cock back into his pants. "Show me," he demands. I open my mouth and show him it's still full of him cum. "Good girl. Now swallow every drop." I make a show of swallowing slowly and open empty mouth, sticking out my tongue.

"Such a good little cum slut," he says with a smirk. "I think you've earned that orgasm now, if you still want it?"

I am desperate for release, my submission to Mr Harris turning me on more than anything ever has before. "Yes, Sir!" I exclaim.

He leans back on the couch and picks up his glass of scotch, taking a slow, deliberate sip. I squirm on my knees as I wait for him to give his next direction, not willing to move in case he decides to rescind his agreement to let me come. Finally, he looks back down at me, his gaze landing between my legs, where my swim bottoms are still pushed to the side, my weeping pussy on full display for him.

He pats his thigh, "Come here," he says. I scramble to my feet and straddle his thigh, my soaked pussy immediately staining his jeans. "Rub yourself on me, my dear. Make yourself come."

Not needing to be told twice, I rock my hips back and forth. The friction of the denim on my sensitive clit making me moan in relief. Mr Harris continues to leisurely drink his scotch as though nothing is happening, while I grind myself on his leg. I pick up speed, chasing my release. Fire licks at my core, as my orgasm builds like a tsunami ready to break. My breathing stutters, my whole body tightens and I explode. I scream as an intense orgasm tears through me, my body convulsing on top of him.

As I come down from my orgasm, I slide off Mr Harris' leg and fall limp onto the couch beside him, trying to catch my breath.

"Well, my dear," he says, looking down at me. "I think this arrangement is going to work out just fine, don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir," I grin.