“Daddy,” I pout popping my thong covered ass down on his lap as he read the morning paper, “I promise I won’t do it again.” I had just wrecked my car and daddy says that I have to pay for the damages this time.
“That is what you said the last time, Jane, and the time before that.”
“Please daddy, please, please, please.” I beg as I rub my little tushie against his leg giving him my innocent doe eyes.
“No…,” My daddy starts to perspire as I work my butt over his growing erection, “…sweetheart…”
“Yes daddy?” I ask innocently, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking into his eyes with mock curiosity.
“Baby doll you shouldn’t…” My daddy grunts as I rotate my hips faster and grind my ass harder against his manhood.
“Daddy, are you feeling okay? You look a little clammy.” I ask pushing my breasts against my daddy’s chest, first kissing him on the forehead then the side of his lips running my tongue along them.
My daddy lets out a blood curdling scream, shredding the paper he is holding in half, as I feel his cock jerk several times. I continue to look both innocent and surprised holding up the charade.
“Geez daddy, are you okay?” I ask slowly rocking to a stop.
Daddy looks at me a little dazed and slightly satisfied, “Yeah, daddy is fine… listen sweetheart, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll pay for half of the damages but YOU HAVE TO LEARN RESPONSIBILITY so you will pay for the other half… now let daddy up, he has to… go use the restroom.”
“Okay daddy!” I say bouncing off of his lap and skipping into the living room to watch some TV.
Daddy comes into the living room a few minutes later wearing a new suit. “Okay baby girl, daddy has to go to work now. Why don’t you do something productive while I’m gone, like clean up the house or try finding a job.”
“Okay daddy, I will!” I lie to him.
“Bye sweetheart, daddy loves you.” He says kissing me on the forehead.
“Bye daddy, I love you too!” I say, blowing him a kiss.
He said I have to get a job and earn the money. Get a job? Is he out of his mind? I don’t know the first thing about working. The last time I ever did anything to earn my own money was when I was 13 and I was working a lemonade stand. I was so cute back then with my little braces and my dimpled cheeks, freckled nose and shining personality. Oh wait, I’m still that cutie. Sure I’m 18 now and I’ve grown some C-cup breast and I’ve developed some dangerous curves and I’m about ten inches taller but hey, I still have my braces and I only weigh about 15 pounds more and I’m still a natural blonde. I remember earning quite a few bucks back then.
I bet I could easily make the money if I wasn’t too old to be selling lemonade in the front lawn. Well… hold on a sec, who says I’m too old? There isn’t some legal age limit where a person is no longer allowed to sell lemonade, is there? They always say do what you know… don’t they?
Then that is it, I have decided! I’m going to earn my money by selling lemonade. Summer was here and everyone who takes a jog, walks their pet or mows their lawn will just love having a cup of my mouth watering lemonade.
All that week I made preparations for my lemonade stand. I made posters, which I posted all over town. I scrounged up enough cash to buy lemons, big plastic 20 oz. cups and popsicles. Last I set up shop, which consisted of my old wooden lemonade stand, a few chairs, a container of sugar, a lemon squeezer, a pitcher filled with fresh lemonade (which I squeezed myself), a large cooler full of ice holding my extra lemons and assorted flavor popsicles, a scooper for the ice, napkins for all those people that drip, and a safety box for holding the money.
In my mind, there are 3 rules any good entrepreneur needs to know for selling a product:
Affordability
Quality
Customer Appeal
It was only early morning but it was already a scorcher. Always dress for the occasion they say… don’t they?
I pulled on a pink matte belted mini-micro skirt which was only 5 ½ inches top to bottom showing off lots of ass flesh. Then I strung up a turquoise triangular patched bikini top that was two sizes too small for me. I had to continuously stretch the fabric to properly hide my nipples. After great consideration I slipped on a g-string thong… I didn’t want people thinking I was a whore.
I parade outside again and notice several customer opportunities already.
Mr. Johnson, my next door neighbor, is just getting finished cutting his lawn wearing his greasy gray sweatpants and sweat stained wife beater and an Indians baseball cap. Mr. Johnson is a short, obese, disgusting pervert. I once caught him spying on me as I stuffed my pussy with a big fat dildo. As far as I know, he is single and has always been.
Miss Perkins is jogging along the sidewalk as her healthy B-cup breasts giggle freely under her white-t and her jogging trunks ride tightly up the crack of her taut ass. Miss Perkins is a freshman year high school teacher and stays in an apartment complex a few blocks away. I talked to her every now and then and she seems like a nice person. She has light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail which reaches down to her chin.
Mr. Flynn, the rich attorney, is pulling his Jaguar into his drive. I’ve never really talked to him, he seems sort of an asshole and conceited. Right now though, Mr. Flynn might be a great money contributor. Mr. Flynn has a sexy young trophy wife who may be more silicon then flesh but damn… I’d fuck her.