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The question is, does she want that too? Something tells me she does, that not only does she want it but she needs it just like I do. She’s so damn young, just eighteen, but I know her hormones are in full overdrive…but nothing compared to mine.

You would think a former Russian mafia hitman would be able to calm his mind and his body in times of heightened stress. It’s why hitmen make the money they do in the first place, their ability to stay calm despite circumstances and take down their targets. But Alexa is different, so different. I’m not here to take her down, I’m here to take her out…of the population of single women in this country and make her mine before she even leaves high school. To commit to her in front of the world and make her my princess, and then make her my queen.

I exhale hard. Focus, Alexander. Focus. “If you’re ready we can begin,” I say.

She nods, but her body language gives her away. Her hands tug at the end of her white jersey dress, pulling it down past her knees as her top teeth bite the corner of her bottom lip, causing me to nearly lose it right here and now.

The oversight committee woman goes over some rules, during which I have to take a drink of water at least three times and loosen my collar twice. I feel like I’ve been chewing on cotton, my mouth dry as a bone.

“Please recite the Cyrillic alphabet for me…Alexa,” I say, damn near slipping and calling her angel.

She begins and I just stare at her mouth as the tiny oval moves in rhythm as I imagine those bee-stung lips wrapped around my cock.

“Mr. Smith,” Ms. Johnson, the oversight committee woman whose name or presence only annoys me, says. “Next question?”

I turn and look at this Johnson lady whose palms are skyward and then look back at Alexa who’s no longer speaking.

“Correct,” I say, not having heard a single word of what Alexa said. “Moving on. Please, in Russian, tell me the brief history of Moscow as per Chapter fifteen in the textbook you studied this semester. Please remember to highlight the underlined portions of the textbook in your summary.”

Before she can begin, Alexa’s arms bend at the wrist and her tiny little hands grab the top of her jacket, unzipping it before pushing her chest forward as she slides one arm and then the other out of her windbreaker and hangs it on the back of her desk.

It’s clear now that the windbreaker had some sort of padding, or air trapped underneath it that caused it to bulge, and now that she’s removed it only her white dress remains, and despite the horrible lighting in this room I can clearly see that the top is damn near transparent, Alexa’s pert nipples trying to cut through the fabric of her well-worn dress.

Those little bee-stings she has for breasts are so damn perfect, so small and girlish, just like her.

Ms. Johnson fidgets in her seat and sighs at the sight of Alexa, and I feel the oversight committee woman’s arm brush against mine, trying to get my attention. “One second please,” she says, holding up a finger to Alexa before whispering in my ear. “I don’t think that’s appropriate under the dress code of the school.”

In this case I have to agree. I want to grab that jacket and cover my little girl up so no one can ever see her so revealed like this again, not even another woman. That body is mine and only my eyes should ever see what I’m seeing now. But this isn’t the time to teach her obedience. That will come later.

“She needs to dress like a proper young woman…like me,” Ms. Johnson says, her breasts pressing against the side of my arm and it’s only then that I realize what she’s doing as she’s damn near crawling up into my lap like a cat. Is this woman crazy? Can she not see the reaction I’m having to Alexa, and not her? I have no interest in any woman other than Alexa, and I’ve never shown any interest in anyone this entire time. “Speaking of clothes,” she says, “this blouse is a bit tight.” She unbuttons another button, likely exposing more of her cleavage but I wouldn’t know. I don’t even consider looking. Zero interest in anyone other than the young girl sitting in front of me.

“You mentioned you need to leave on time, Ms. Johnson. Let’s continue so you can get out of here as scheduled.”

“I just said that in case you wanted to get a drink after. I know a—“

“No,” I growl, turning back to Alexa. “You were saying?”

“Yes, teacher,” she begins causing my cock to jerk and then she slides right into reciting what amounts to a Wikipedia page of information about Moscow, in nearly flawless Russian, and to me it sounds like an angel singing while playing the harp.

And an angel is what I need right now because these thoughts I’m having are going to send me straight to hell. The debaucherous ways I want to taint this sacrificial virgin perfection, and I can definitely see no way that she’s not a virgin.

The thought that I’ll be the only man to ever touch her causes my nostrils to flare and I bare my teeth.

“You pass,” I blurt out.

Ms. Johnson gasps. “You’re really ready to get out of here tiger, aren’t you?” she purrs.

“Take. Your. Hand. Off. Of. Me.” I order, and Ms. Johnson reluctantly does.

“Fine,” she hisses, before grabbing her things and storming out of the examination room.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Alexa adds quickly, filling the silence in the room with her melodious voice. “I studied very hard and passing this means a lot to me.”

“You, I mean this, means a lot to me too,” I confess.

She swallows hard. “There were some other parts of the oral exam that I prepared for that I was hoping to get a chance to show-off.”

My eyes dart up to the clock, realizing we only have a few more minutes of time in this room before the janitor comes in to clean and get it prepared for more testing this evening.


Tags: Lena Little Yes, Daddy Erotic