The AC hummed, a backdrop to the show they were watching. Or trying to watch. It was the fourth straight day of record-breaking temperatures, and members of the community were being asked to conserve energy, but it was so hot out that even with the thermostat set to a stifling 82 degrees, the air conditioning unit still ran continuously.
She had thought that nothing could curb her lust for him, for his kisses, for his body. But the heat had finally won out, and they both agreed that it was simply too hot to fool around. They had arrived at the idea of a sexual truce—they weren’t rejecting each other; it wasn’t that they didn’t want each other. They were simply mutually abstaining until temperatures cooled down a bit. Now they lounged lethargically on opposite ends of the big couch in the living room, halfheartedly watching The Office for the thousandth time. She let out a long sigh and then stood up and stretched. “I need a popsicle. Want anything from the kitchen while I’m up?” “No thanks,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen. She walked to the refrigerator, feeling a drop of sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades, and sighed in relief as she opened the freezer door, taking a moment to bask in the cold air that rushed out over her face and chest. Her nipples rose to attention, braless beneath her thin tank top, and she felt a rush of desire pool low in her belly. Maybe four days wasn’t a long time to go without sex for another person, but she had become accustomed to daily (sometimes multiple times a day) orgasms provided by her man, and her body was definitely feeling the drought. Realizing she’d stood in front of the open freezer long enough, she chose a cherry popsicle, discarded the wrapper, and went back to her place on the sofa. Maybe because of the way the cold air had refreshed her, or maybe because of her aroused state, she was very aware of the phallic nature of the popsicle in her hands, and she felt a delicious thrill at the thought that she could tease him with it a bit. If she was squirming, then he should be, too. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she traced the outline of her lips with the tip of the popsicle, running it around and around her mouth, her tongue flicking out to catch the first melty drips. Then she ran her tongue over the length of it, up and down, bottom to top. He wasn’t even looking at her. She sighed loudly and then put her back against the armrest, stretching her legs across the couch so that her feet rested against his thigh and redoubled her efforts. After wiggling her toes against his leg and giving a particularly loud slurp, he finally glanced at her, one eyebrow quirked in question. She took full advantage of his momentary attention by looking right into his eyes as she pushed the popsicle all the way down her throat, holding the little wooden stick at the very tip, before pulling it back out with satisfied sounding “mmmmm.” His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened as he realized just what she was up to. She smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence, and then flicked her tongue back and forth over the tip of the popsicle in a way that was unnecessarily obscene. He adjusted himself in his pants, and she inwardly celebrated. Victory! “Didn’t we decide it was too hot to play?” he asked, his voice huskier than usual. “We did,” she nodded. “That’s why I needed a popsicle. It’s just so hot out.” “Uh huh,” he said skeptically. “And you aren’t deliberately teasing me with that by deep throating it?” “Of course not, Daddy. I would never.” The twinkle in her eye and the lilt of her voice gave her away completely. “Hmm…” his eyes flickered back and forth between her lips, wrapped around her frozen treat, and her nipples, jutting against the fabric of her top. “It really is hot,” he conceded. “So hot, in fact, that perhaps we’re overdressed. Let’s get a bit more comfortable, shall we?” He stood and removed his t-shirt before settling back onto the couch in just his shorts and smiled at the way her eyes followed his every move. He could tease her right back. She narrowed her eyes. If it was war he wanted, he would get it. “You’re right—it is too hot for clothes. Hold this,” she said, handing him her half-eaten popsicle, and she stood as well, slowly bringing her tank top up over her abdomen and then just beneath her breasts, holding them up a bit so that when they dropped, now bare, they bounced prettily before she pulled the top over her head and then shook out her hair. He tried valiantly to maintain his composure at this, but his traitorous cock chose that moment to stand at full attention; there was no way she hadn’t noticed it tenting his shorts in response to her display. To distract her, he licked up the melting cherry drips as they ran down his fingers, making sure she saw the dexterity of his tongue, and he was rewarded by her sharp intake of breath. “Here you go,” he said, trying to keep his tone even, as he handed the popsicle back to her, and she sat back down, out of his arms’ reach. She decided it was time to amp up the game. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders to make sure her breasts were well displayed and then brought the popsicle down to her chest. His eyes were glued to her every movement. Surely she wasn’t going to do what he thought she was going to do…. But then she did it: with downcast, hooded eyes, she brought the tip of the popsicle to the tip of her breast and gasped at the cold against her hot skin. He couldn’t contain the growl that erupted from him as she circled first her right, then her left nipple, leaving them red-stained and wet, absolutely mouthwatering. “Baby,” he was near panting now. “You’re getting all sticky.” “I guess I am,” she answered, breathing heavily, herself. Yet she continued running the melting sweetness over her breasts, coating them in sticky iciness, looking up at him all the while. Suddenly he could no longer see the point of resisting her. If this had started out as a game to see who could hold out longer before breaking, he would happily concede if it meant that he got to taste her cherry red nipples. He lunged at her and grabbed the popsicle, now nearly gone, from her hand. He put the last of it into his mouth, pulled out the stick, tossed it aside, and, with his mouth full of cherry ice, sucked her breast into his mouth alongside it. Before she could celebrate her victory, she was moaning loudly at the feeling of his hot tongue alongside the icy cold against her skin. It was overwhelming in the best way. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he swirled his tongue and the bits of ice around and over her nipple. He swallowed hungrily and then switched to her other breast, his mouth still cold as he moved it over her breast. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her, hoping he’d never stop. His hands were busy undoing her shorts and pulling them roughly down her legs, along with her panties. She raised her hips to help him and to encourage his fingers to find her wetness. “Oh yes, Daddy,” she whimpered as his fingers found and circled her clit. “I need you so much. Please.” Her begging triggered something within him, and he came back to his senses enough to remember what they had agreed to and why. “What do you need, Baby?” he asked, moving up to kiss her lips. “I need your cock inside me,” she whispered into his mouth, her hips moving in time with him. His fingers slowed their movements and then stopped altogether, and she whined in dismay. “But honey, we both agreed that we should wait…” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was he seriously turning her down while she was wet and naked and begging for him?? She pulled herself away from him roughly, her pride hurt more than her feelings. “Fine,” she said curtly. “You’re right. It’s too hot for sex.” He wasn’t counting on that response from her and was now unsure how to proceed. He had fully intended to fuck her. He just wanted to make her work for it a bit, wanted to be able to gloat about the fact that he was irresistible to her. But now it looked like all of that was off the table. “Come on, Baby, don’t be like that…” he began. A wicked smile crossed her face, and he gulped nervously. What on earth was she up to now? She then took up her former position on the couch, lying with her head cushioned against the arm, and then bent both knees and spread her legs, feet flat. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was getting into position to… Sure enough, she began to run her hands down her neck, and then over her breasts, sighing softly. “Baby,” he said softly, but she either didn’t hear or was ignoring him. She circled her nipples, then gave them a light pinch, biting her lip at the sensation before running her fingers softly over her stomach and then over her hips and down her thighs. “Baby,” he said again, not sure what he would say next, transfixed by the sight of her. Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them to look at him as she trailed her hands back up her thighs and then cupped her dripping sex, her lips parting as she did so. She slid two fingers from her clit down to her slit and pushed them inside, gasping, before pulling them out, now coated with her wetness, and bringing them to her lips. He swore under his breath as she sucked her fingers into her mouth, moaning in pleasure at the taste, her other hand moving seemingly of its own accord up to her breasts to play with her nipples at the same time. She sucked her fingers loudly before popping them from her lips and bringing them back down to slowly circle her clit, her other hand still strumming at the tips of her breasts, her eyes on his. He was torn between being angry at her for teasing him this way and cumming in his shorts. “We agreed it was too hot to have sex,” she reminded him, her fingers moving faster. “We never said anything about doing this.” Leave it to his bratty baby girl to find a way to best him. She must think that this would tempt him into going back on their agreement, that he would be so turned on at the sight of her wet and whimpering and writhing that he wouldn’t be able to resist. But he was willing to try to beat her at her own game. He stood from the couch, and she smiled deviously, thinking he had given in, but he simply pushed his shorts down his hips and stepped out of them before sitting back down on the couch, his cock gloriously hard and twitching proudly. His eyes never leaving hers, he wrapped a hand around his shaft and began to stroke slowly, twisting his wrist each time he passed over the swollen head. She wanted to be mad at him, but he was just too sexy, so instead she watched the way his hand moved and moved her own fingers in time with his. After several more strokes, he removed his hand and spit into it, unwilling to get up and miss the show she was putting on for him to fish the lube out of his bedside table drawer. But she had one last idea that just might break him. “Here, let me help you, Daddy,” she said, and moved her fingers from her clit down to her slit, where needing lube was a non-issue, and gathered up some of her wetness with her fingers and then sat up and smeared it across the head of his cock. He watched her open mouthed before squeezing his eyes shut and reciting the state capitals in alphabetical order to keep from erupting in response to what she had just done. By the time he opened his eyes, his cock now painfully hard and leaking precum, she was once again reclined on the couch rubbing her pussy and eyeing him through her lashes. He looked down at his cockhead, glistening with her deliciousness, and ran a fingertip over it before placing it into his mouth and groaning at her taste. She tasted better than anything in the world, and somehow she tasted even better when their fluids were mixed together, his and hers, salty and sweet and hot. He took his time stroking himself, now slick with her juices, as he watched her delicate fingers move nimbly over her swollen clit. She was putting on quite a show for him, legs parted, one hand tugging at her breast, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Then he realized it wasn’t exactly a show because she wasn’t acting. The way she was writhing her hips, the pace of her breathing, and the look in her eyes as she watched his every move showed that she was just as excited as he was. This was no longer a game to see who could hold out longer. They had both given in. They had both lost and won. He stroked himself faster at this revelation, giving in and enjoying the pleasure of his own hand and of watching her. He knew her well enough to know from the sound of her breathing that she was close to cumming, and he knew he would be right behind her. “Oh god, Daddy,” she moaned, and he had a sudden moment of inspiration. He moved up and knelt between her legs and gently pushed her circling fingers away. “Nooo—” she began, but then he took his cock, still in his hand, and began to trace circles around her clit with the head of it. Realizing what he was doing, she began to move her hips in tempo with him, and before long, his head sliding over her, slick and slippery, they were both nearly there once more. “Cum baby,” he growled, and she felt the first hot ropes of cum spurt from him, right against her clit, which triggered her own orgasm. He could feel her little clit, hot and hard against his cock head, as it twitched and pulsed, and it was the sexiest thing in the world. While they hadn’t technically had sex, they were both sweaty and panting as though they had. Maybe their mutual masturbation session hadn’t technically violated their agreement, but it had certainly defeated their purpose of staying cool. He looked down at her pussy covered in his cum, her chest red and sticky with dried popsicle, and smiled. “Want to take a shower, Baby?” he asked, and she nodded, taking the hand he offered to help her up from the couch. He pulled her to her feet and then leaned down to speak quietly in her ear. “Don’t ever make me wait that long for your pretty pussy again, little girl. I loved what we did today. I loved helping you touch yourself. But no more abstinence because of heat, okay? We’ll just set the thermostat lower before I fuck you.” His authoritative tone made her erupt in goosebumps, and she gasped, “Thank Jesus!” He burst into laughter before scooping her into his arms and walking toward the bathroom.
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I couldn’t wait for his kisses, had been dreaming of them all day. So when he came through the door after work, I practically launched myself at him, ready for all the Daddy love.
He laughed at my exuberance, but when I pressed my mouth against his, he gave me only a small, perfunctory peck and then set me down, untangling my arms from around his neck and walked into the kitchen. My heart sank. Maybe he’d had a hard day or didn’t feel well. Then I had an even more troubling thought: maybe he was upset with me. I followed him into the kitchen and watched as he got a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some wine from the half-full bottle in the fridge. “Would you like some?” he offered, and I shook my head. I rarely drank, and I was feeling nervous already from his rejection. I wanted to keep a clear head in case there was a difficult conversation coming. He put the cork back in the bottle and put it back in the fridge before taking a sip of his wine. I watched him with wary eyes, waiting. “How was your day?” he finally asked, and I was confused by his mundane question. “Is something wrong?” He smiled at me. “No, sweetheart. Everything is fine.” “It doesn’t feel fine,” I muttered, eyes downcast. He had the audacity to laugh then, and I looked up at him, clearly hurt. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, and I nearly rolled my eyes. “You don’t want my kisses. You don’t want my hugs. Do even you want me anymore?” “Why do you think I don’t want your hugs and kisses?” he asked, eyes alight with mischief. I realized he was up to something. Relief washed through me. Maybe he wasn’t upset with me. Maybe this was a game. If only I knew the rules…. “You didn’t kiss me back when I kissed you,” I said, trying to remember exactly what had happened when he first walked through the door. “But, honey, I did kiss you,” he protested. “Like this,” he said, dropping a quick peck on my lips, and I could feel my mouth forming into a pout as soon as he pulled away. “I mean a real kiss,” I said, and he laughed again. “Was that not a real kiss? Was it a figment of your imagination?” I laughed with him in spite of myself. “You know what I mean,” I said, and I could tell by his approving smile that I was on the right track to figuring this game out. “Do I?” he asked. “How can I know what you mean, what you want, unless you tell me?” I pondered that for a moment, my cheeks already aflame at the idea of having to verbalize all of the things I wanted him to do to me. He leaned in close to me, his voice quiet in my ear. “Do you like the way I talk to you, Baby? Do you like the dirty things I say to you?” Goosebumps erupted over my body at his breath on my neck. I nodded. “Did you ever think I might like that, too?” My eyes had drifted closed in anticipation of his touch, but they flew open as I sensed him move away from me rather than closer. “Did you ever think that maybe Daddy wants to hear his little girl tell him all of the lovely, naughty thoughts in her mind?” I put one hand on my burning cheek. “Oh my….” “Tonight, you will only get exactly what you ask for. If you want ‘real’ kisses, then you’re going to have to describe them, so I know just what it is you need.” Heat flooded my belly even through my embarrassment. Daddy’s grin at my discomfort was positively evil. “Do you understand the rules, Baby?” “Yes, Daddy.” “Good girl. Now, are we having dinner soon?” It seems he was going to be true to his word and give me only what I explicitly asked for. I took a deep, steadying breath. “There’s something else I want first,” I said, my voice shaking. Why was this so difficult for me? “Oh yeah?” he asked, his face bland, expressionless. “What’s that?” At this point I would ordinarily have launched myself into his arms and expected that he would give me just what I wordlessly wanted, but I knew that wouldn’t happen tonight. “I want you, Daddy.” He smiled sweetly. “You have me, Baby. I’m right here.” I huffed in frustration. “I want you to kiss me,” I began, but remembering that asking for a kiss would result in a passionless peck, I amended my statement. “I want you to kiss me like you’ve been away on a long trip and are just seeing me for the first time. I want you to hold me close against your chest and show me how you feel with your kiss. I want your mouth to make love to mine.” The more I talked, the easier it got, and I saw that his nostrils were flared and his jaw was clenched by the end of my speech. “That sounds like quite a kiss,” he said, voice husky, and this time when I moved toward him, he met me halfway, his mouth fusing against mine. I melted into him, my mouth softening against his, but he made no move to deepen the kiss. I licked the seam of his lips, asking for entrance, but still he didn’t open his mouth to me. “Daddy,” I whimpered against his mouth. “What is it, darling? Tell Daddy what you need.” “I want your tongue. Oh Daddy, please.” He growled in pleasure before kissing me again, fiercely, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. Finally. I kissed him back, hungrily, my hands roaming up his back, one sinking into his hair and pulling him even closer. His arms were around me, holding me just as I’d asked him to, but his hands were motionless on my back, despite how I writhed against him. “Touch me,” I breathed, moving my lips to the corner of his mouth and then down his neck. “I am touching you, Baby,” he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I was tempted to take one of his hands in mine and place it where I wanted it, but I reminded myself that tonight was about my words. “I want your hands….on my ass” I whispered, hiding my face in his neck. Why was I so embarrassed at saying the words when I so desperately wanted the action? But I was saved from thinking about it further because, true to his word, his hands moved immediately where I wanted them. But instead of squeezing me, pulling me against him, his hands were still. “Pull me against you,” I said, having an easier time finding my words now that I wasn’t looking at him. “Let me feel how much you want me.” He made an appreciative sound low in his throat and squeezed my ass firmly before tugging me against him so that my hips met his, his hardness pressing into me deliciously. I was emboldened by his body’s response to me, to my words. I did love the way he said naughty things to me. I could handle a bit of embarrassment to return the favor for my man. “You like the way I sound? I can feel that you do. I love how big and hard you are for me, Daddy,” I heard his breath catch at my words. “Oh yes, Baby, I do love your voice. Even when you’re just chatting you have a sexy voice. But when you’re telling me what you want me to do or how I make you feel, it’s even sexier.” I pulled back and looked up into his face. “Will you please carry me to bed, Daddy?” I hadn’t even finished speaking before he’d scooped be up and started down the hallway to our bedroom. He may be waiting for me to verbalize my desires, but clearly he wanted this as much as I did, and that gave me the courage to keep going. Once we were in the bedroom I began to think of exactly what I needed to say to get him to do what I wanted. He was being so literal; I was going to have to be specific. “Set me down.” He went to put me on the bed, but I protested. “No, not on the bed. I want to undress you first. And I want you to undress me.” He set me on my feet in front of him, and I began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He stood in silence, watching me work with hungry eyes. After I slid the shirt from his shoulders, I pulled his undershirt up over his head and took a moment to admire his muscular arms and tanned skin before sinking to my knees to undo his belt. Noticing that it was always easier for me to speak when I wasn’t looking at him directly, I took this opportunity, with my eyes on the sizeable bulge in front of me, to say, “Put your hands in my hair, please.” “So polite,” he murmured, and just as I’d asked, he put both hands in my hair, holding me steady. I reveled in the feel of his big hands on me as I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Nothing made me feel more feminine, more beautiful, more his than his hands. After I’d tugged his pants down his legs and asked him to step out of them, I straightened to face him again. “Will you undress me?” He smiled wickedly. “I thought you’d never ask.” He pulled my top over my head and then reached around to unhook my bra before kneeling in front of me, much as I had just done, to undo and remove my pants. But despite the fact that I was now naked before him, he had not kissed or caressed any part of me as he undressed me. In fact, he hadn’t touched me at all. This was beginning to get frustrating. I laid down on the bed and beckoned him with one finger, but he raised his eyebrows and shook his head in response. Fine, I would do things his way. “Kiss me, Daddy, please. Kiss my breasts.” His pupils darkened and his hard cock twitched at my words, but he said nothing, just moved to lie next to me on the bed and placed soft, sweet kisses at the tops of my breasts, the sensitive underside, and in-between. His mouth never touched my nipples, which were unashamedly straining for his touch. “I need your tongue on my nipples, Daddy. I love the way you lick me, tease me with little flicks of your tongue. The way you—oh!” My breath was stolen by his warm mouth, his tongue sliding against my nipple. “Oh yes, just like that,” I panted, never wanting him to stop. His eager mouth was driving me crazy, and before long, my hips were twitching beneath him, longing for more. Whether he was showing me mercy, or he was just as desperate for me as I was for him, he decided to give just a little. “Do you want more, Baby?” he asked, and I nodded, and then realized I would have to speak. “Oh yes, I want more. I want so much. I want everything.” I could feel him shake with silent laughter and then his whole body was covering mine once more, his mouth against my ear. “Do you want me to use my mouth on your body, sweetheart? Down low, where you’re wet for me? Want me to kiss your hips, bite your inner thighs, and lick your sweet little pussy?” I moaned aloud at his words, my body jerking against his involuntarily. “If you want those things, you’re going to have to ask for them.” I moaned again, equally frustrated and excited at the prospect. “Please,” I whimpered against his neck. “Please, Daddy, I want your mouth on me.” He lifted himself onto his elbows and looked into my eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll lick you all you like as long as you talk the entire time. If you stop talking, I stop licking. Okay?” I wasn’t at all sure I would be able to talk enough to uphold my end of the bargain, but I nodded, and then remembering this was supposed to be about talking, said, “Yes, I understand.” “Okay,” he smiled, and then kissed me long and deep on my lips before kissing down my body. “I love your lips,” I said he kissed down my stomach. “I love how soft they are, the way they feel on my skin.” He slid his mouth across my hips and down one thigh. “I love how warm they are,” I kept speaking though I was panting now. I didn’t want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop. “I love the way you—oh!” I was interrupted by a gasp as he sank his teeth gently into my inner thigh and then traced his tongue over the marks he left. I closed my eyes, rendered momentarily speechless. And then just like that his mouth was gone from me. “Daddy,” I whimpered, “Please,” I felt his hot breath on my thigh, and it was all the incentive I needed to keep talking. “Your tongue feels so good on me there. The anticipation of what you’ll do, not knowing where I’ll feel your kisses next, gives me goosebumps.” As promised, he dutifully slid his mouth nearer and nearer to where I wanted him as I talked. “I’m so wet for you,” I breathed, hardly embarrassed any more, too consumed with longing to care much if I sounded silly. He trailed his nose between my upper thigh and my pussy, inhaling deeply and said, “Yes you are” before placing a soft kiss right above my clit. “Oh god,” I whispered. “You always know just how to touch me, how to kiss me. You always know just what I need, even before I do.” His tongue slid between my folds, up and down, and then darted inside, tasting my wetness as I spoke. My hips began to writhe against his mouth. “You feel so good,” I said, although I was no longer sure I was speaking coherently. I may have been speaking in tongues. He was certainly doing something religious to me with his tongue… “You make me feel amazing. The way you kiss me makes me feel beautiful, makes me feel like I’m yours.” “You are mine,” he growled against my flesh, and I moaned in response. “Yes, I am yours. I love being yours. And you’re mine.” His tongue moved faster, the tip fluttering against my clit. I struggled to breathe, let alone talk. “You’re so tall and handsome,” I panted. I was basically incoherently babbling at this point, but I needed him to keep going. “I love the way you smell and the way you taste and the way you make love to me. I love you so, so much oh Daddy, please, I’m so close, please Daddy please,” “Cum, Baby,” he said before attaching his mouth to my clit. “Daddy!” I exclaimed, taken by surprise by the force of my orgasm as I pulsed again and again beneath his mouth. He slowed his mouth in time with my hips as I came back down to earth, and then kissed his way back up to my mouth when my body finally stilled. I felt him laughing into my neck as he kissed me, and I blushed anew. “Oh gosh. Was I ridiculous?” I asked, snuggling against him. “No, honey. You were perfect. Only you would take my dirty talk challenge and instead of saying anything dirty tell me you think I’m handsome and that you love me.” I was now officially mortified. “I am ridiculous!” I wailed, reaching around his broad shoulders in an attempt to cover my face with my hands. He burst into laughter. “You are not ridiculous,” he said, sitting up and prying my hands from my face. “You are sweet and loving and beautiful, and I love you.” He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on the tip of my nose. “I didn’t disappoint you?” I asked. “I mean, you were hoping I’d say something really dirty, right? You wanted to hear how much I wanted you to fuck me, and instead I said mushy stuff…” “You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried,” he said, his words punctuated by soft kisses to my lips and cheeks. “I love you just as you are: silly and shy and sweet and incapable of saying the word ‘fuck’ louder than a whisper.” We both laughed at that. “Had the inclination struck you to say something dirty, I would have loved that. But I don’t need that from you. I don’t need anything from you that you aren’t happy to give. I like to push you, to let you know that you are safe to explore your boundaries with me, but I never want to change who you are. And if the thoughts in your mind just before you cum are that you think I’m handsome and that you love me, then I am the luckiest guy on earth.” I was moved nearly to tears by his words and bit my lip to stop it from trembling. “I love you, so, so much, Daddy.” He smiled and kissed me in response and then looked at me in surprise as I gave him a shove so he’d roll over and then straddled his lap. “May I be done with the talking challenge for today?” I asked. “Of course, Baby,” he replied. “Good,” I said, kissing his lips and then working my way down his neck and chest. “Because it would be rude of my to talk with my mouth full…” “You look beautiful, Baby,” he said, his eyes lingering on the curve of my hips and the swell of my breasts in my little black dress.
It was date night with Daddy, our first in quite a while. We had been too busy lately to make time for it, too tired from work by the end of the day, and while I loved our casual dinners, sitting on the couch in comfortable clothes and feeding each other bites of food while we watched Netflix, I did miss this: getting dressed up for him, seeing the gleam of appreciation in his eyes as he took in my carefully curled hair and glossed lips. “Thank you, Daddy,” I smiled, glowing under his praise. He said he was taking me to an Italian restaurant tonight, one of our favorites, and I was looking forward to seeing his eyes sparkle in the candlelight as we ate and talked and laughed. But I could tell once we were seated at our table that he had more on his mind than pasta and conversation. He turned hungry eyes on me the moment the hostess walked away. “I have a task for you,” he said quietly, and I looked at him in surprise. I was used to him giving me tasks at home, where we had our play time. “Go into the bathroom, take off your panties, and put them in your purse.” My jaw dropped. What was he planning? He knew I was more inexperienced than he was, and very shy. I could already feel my pulse fluttering in my throat. His eyes softened at my worried expression. “Do you trust Daddy?” he asked, and I nodded without even having to stop and consider his question. Of course I trusted him. “Daddy would never ask you to do anything that would be dangerous for you. Now be a good girl and do as I asked you.” “Yes, Daddy,” I said quietly, and, picking up my purse, I began to walk on wobbly legs toward the women’s restroom. Once inside the stall, I removed my lacy panties, careful not to get them caught up in the heels of my shoes, and then stuffed them in my purse before exiting the stall and washing my hands. It didn’t escape my notice as I removed them that my panties were already a bit damp. Daddy knew best, even better than I did, apparently, because I was already turned on. I walked back to the table, head held high, somehow feeling sexier and more confident knowing that underneath my dress I was bare and ready for him. As I took my seat at our table, Daddy leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear: “Give me your panties.” I could feel my cheeks reddening as I took my panties from my purse with downcast eyes and put them in his open hand beneath the table. He closed his hand around them, taking in a deep breath, presumably because he could feel the slight wetness on the crotch. “Very good, Baby,” he said, dropping a lingering kiss on my cheek and then, after putting the panties in his pocket, he leaned back and picked up his menu and began to peruse it. I was confused….was this it? All he wanted was for me to be without underwear? I was a little disappointed, if I was being honest with myself, but I was relieved, too. I could handle this. We made chit chat as we perused our menus, and then the waiter came to take our drink orders. He was young and handsome, with curly brown hair and a musical Italian accent. He smiled brightly at us, and my eyes lingered perhaps a bit too long on his dimpled cheeks. I felt Daddy’s hand on my knee. Startled, I looked at him from the corner of my eye. Was I in trouble? His voice was in my ear as soon as the waiter had turned to walk away: “I saw the way he looked at you. And I saw the way you looked at him. You find him attractive, don’t you?” I felt shame well up in me. I hadn’t flirted with him, hadn’t done anything to encourage him to flirt with me, but now Daddy was upset with me. But as he spoke, Daddy’s hand moved from my knee to stroke up and down my thigh. Confused, I looked up into his face and saw no anger or even disappointment. I saw only love and a hint of mischief in his sparkling eyes. “Daddy asked you a question, Baby,” he reminded me, and I took a moment to remember what exactly he had asked, and another to find my voice. “I….yes, the waiter is very handsome,” I admitted quietly, blushing, and he smiled. His hand inched higher, now at the hem of my skirt. “Are you….I mean…..is that okay? Are you mad?” He smiled, shaking his head. “No, love, I’m not mad. You haven’t done a thing wrong. You’re a beautiful young woman who noticed an attractive man. That’s perfectly natural. And I know you’re mine. I’m not jealous.” I was relieved but also more confused. As the waiter came back with our drinks, Daddy’s hand moved even higher, now beneath my skirt, and I had a hard time keeping my face impassive under his wandering fingers. “For the lady,” the waiter said with a wink as he set down my drink, and just as I felt butterflies take flight in my stomach at his attention, I felt Daddy’s pinky brush against my pussy lips, and I harshly drew in my breath, eyes widened in surprised pleasure. The waiter set down Daddy’s drink as well and then asked if we were ready to place our orders. Surely now Daddy would remove his hand from between my legs. The waiter was so near to us, after all, and might at any moment suspect what we were up to beneath the table. But instead, he moved his pinky up and down my dampening pussy as he inquired about the evening specials and the soup of the day. I tried valiantly to keep my composure, but feeling Daddy’s finger on me where I was growing wet and needy made that difficult, especially because my eyes were fixed on the waiter’s handsome face, his full lips and stubble-covered jaw as he spoke. I was unbelievably aroused even though I was just a bit afraid. Somehow the fear played into my arousal and heightened rather than took away from it. When the waiter (Marco, he’d said as he introduced himself) turned expectantly toward me, I realized I was going to have to actually speak to give my order. Before I could even open my mouth, Daddy’s hand slid higher still so that his palm firmly pressed against my pussy, and I yelped, then coughed, hoping to cover the sound. “Um,” I began, and my voice wavered. “Are you alright, Miss?” Marco asked, his brows furrowing in concern, and before I could answer, Daddy said, “Maybe a drink would help,” and as I picked up my glass to take a swallow of wine, he slid his index finger along my slit, just teasing my opening, and I nearly choked. “I’m fine,” I sputtered, trying to keep my face impassive and my voice steady. I just needed to get my order in as quickly as possible, that’s all. “I’ll, um….I’ll have the special,” I said, even though I hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to what the special was as Marco had recited it off for us. “Perfect, the special for the lady. Would you like to add any soup to your meal?” Daddy’s index finger slid inside me as he spoke, and I was sure my bright red cheeks would give us away. “No” I said, louder than was necessary, and then I added “no, thank you,” more softly. Marco shot me a puzzled look but then gave a little shrug and gathered our menus and walked away, humming along with the music that was being piped in through the restaurant’s speakers. My eyes flew immediately to Daddy’s face, and I could see him trying to hide a smile. “What, Baby?” he asked innocently, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you doing?” I hissed, even as I opened my legs a bit wider. His index finger had stopped it’s slow thrusting inside me, and his now wet fingertip moved higher to make circles around my clit. I swallowed a gasp. “I’m just enjoying this evening with you, sweetheart,” he said with a smirk, and I let out a shuddering breath as his circling finger gained speed. “But if you keep doing…that…you’re going to make me...” “That’s right, Baby. Daddy is going to make you cum right before the innocent eyes of our handsome waiter.” I felt a fresh wave of lust at his words and had to swallow a moan. Within a few moments, Marco arrived back at our table once more with a basket of warm bread, and I did my best to meet his gaze and smile even as I could feel my pussy leaking onto the seat beneath me. Once he’d left us alone at the table, Daddy redoubled his efforts, alternating between dipping two fingers into me and then bringing the fresh wetness up to swirl around my clit. “Baby, would you mind getting me a piece of bread?” he asked, his face the picture of innocence. “I would do it myself, but my hands are otherwise occupied, you see.” I flushed at his words even as I fought to keep my hips still and my breathing even. With shaking hands, I took a piece of bread from the basket and asked, “Would you like butter, Daddy?” my voice husky and breathless. “Yes, please,” he said, his eyes locked on mine. I tore my eyes from his gaze and picked up the butter knife, dipping it into the little pot and spreading some on the bread before setting it onto the plate in front of him. He smiled at me, his free hand lifting the bread to his mouth to take a bite, all the while his other hand was strumming my clit even faster. I could feel that the explosion was imminent and that it was going to be big. Daddy leaned in, his fingers never stilling, and spoke quietly in my ear. “When Marco comes to bring our dinner, you are going to cum before he leaves the table, do you understand, Baby?” I was beyond words at this point, so I nodded. “And when you do it, you have to be quiet, okay? You don’t want everyone in this restaurant to know what a naughty little girl you are, do you? You don’t want them to know that I’ve been playing with your pretty pussy the entire time we’ve been here.” I shook my head, mortified at the thought, but too close to orgasm to want him to stop. My body was winning the war with my mind. It didn’t care where we were or who was watching. It wanted release. Just as I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to hold out until Marco arrived, I saw him coming around the corner with our plates, and in a nearly Pavlovian response, my body began to spiral. I did my best to hide my squirming hips and quiet my harsh breathing as I could feel my orgasm building low in my belly. “Here we are,” Marco said in his musical voice, “The veal parmesan for the gentleman.” He set a steaming plate in front of Daddy. Ohgodohgodohgod here it comes…. “And tonight’s special for a special lady,” he said, and setting down my plate in front of me. And just like that, my eyes on Marco’s, I came all over Daddy’s fingers, clamping my thighs together to still his fingers. I was unable to remain entirely quiet. “Oh my” I moaned, and then quickly took in a deep breath through my nose. “That food smells amazing,” I added, trying to play off my moan as a food-gasm. I hoped that he would ignore my flushed cheeks and unsteady voice. But he was all business, smiling and asking if we’d like fresh parmesan cheese grated onto our meals. Either he didn’t know what we’d just done or he had an amazing poker face and simply didn’t care. I shook my head, still catching my breath. Daddy declined as well, and Marco made his way to check on his other tables. Finally Daddy withdrew his fingers from me and brought them, glistening, to his lips and licked them clean. I felt a renewed stab of lust as I watched his tongue trace his fingers, hoping that he’d let me repay the favor when we got home that night. “Now that I’ve had my appetizer, shall we have our dinner?” he asked. I turned my eyes to my plate and frowned. “Is this…..squid?!” I asked incredulously. I wasn’t a big fan of seafood in general, but squid in particular grossed me out. And this wasn’t even crispy calamari. It was squid salad, with big, squishy looking rings of tentacles upon a bed of lettuce. My stomach churned at the sight. Daddy’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Well, that was the special of the day, Baby. That’s what you ordered.” I pushed the plate away shuddering, and Daddy laughed out loud. “I’ll share mine with you,” he offered, picking up his fork and feeding me a bite. “Mmm, yummy,” I said, licking sauce from the corner of my mouth, and his eyes darkened as he watched my tongue move. “You know, if we’re splitting this meal, we’ll have more room for dessert,” he said, taking my hand under the table and placing it on the impressive bulge in his pants. “I would love to eat your cannoli, Daddy, but only after we get home, okay? That was quite enough excitement for one evening.” He laughed again. “Sure, Baby,” he said kissing my cheek and feeding me another bite. It was dark when he came home. Usually she left the hall light on for him when she knew he would be home late, but tonight she must have forgotten.
He dropped his keys in the bowl on the hall table and set his briefcase down on the floor before groping for the light switch. When the light clicked on, he drew in a harsh breath at what he saw. She was standing in the arched doorway to the living room. He had figured she wasn’t home, so her presence there startled him, but he was also taken aback by what she was wearing: a lacy black teddy, thigh high, lace- topped stockings, a garter belt, black panties, and black high heels. Her hair, normally free flowing in soft curls down her back, was stick straight, slicked back in a severe ponytail. She had on dark makeup around her eyes, and her lips were painted red. “Oh Baby,” he said, his voice husky, and he took a step toward her. “Stop!” Her voice was clear and rang out in the silence. He looked at her quizzically. This was unlike his soft, sweet little kitten, and he was confused, but he was also very much turned on and intrigued, so he followed her command. “Baby, what are you—” “Quiet,” she said, interrupting him, and even as he narrowed his eyes at her impudence, his cock stiffened within his pants. What on earth was she up to? She began walking to him, head up, her heels clicking on the tile floor. “You know how much I love being yours,” she began, and he smiled at her words. She began to walk around him in slow circles, eyeing him up and down in an almost predatory way. “But as much as I love being yours….tonight, you’re mine.” His eyebrows went up in surprise at her words, and his heart was beating faster in his chest, but he could tell from her demeanor and her previous commands that she didn’t want him to talk, so remained quiet. She stopped her feline prowling and stood directly in front of him, still quite a bit shorter than he was despite her high heels. Finally she spoke: “Follow me,” she said, and turned and began to climb the stairs, leading him to their bedroom. He walked behind her, enjoying the view of her bottom that was just in front of his face. He resisted the urge to reach out and give it a quick smack. That might get him into trouble, with the way she was acting, so he refrained. Once they reached their bedroom and she flicked on the lamp, he saw an array of toys spread out on the bed. Whatever this was, she had been planning it for some time. He stood by the side of the bed waiting for her to give him some direction. She walked over to the corner of the room, and pulled out the chair that sat there, moving it so that it faced the bed. “Sit,” she said, and it was a command, not a request. Wordlessly he made his way to the chair and sat down. She walked to her bedside table and grabbed a remote control. With the click of a button, music began pulsing through the room’s speakers, sexy music with a rhythm just right for dancing. Or for….other things. She set the remote back on the bedside table and walked over to where he sat, her hips swaying in time to the music. She closed her eyes and began to really dance, seeming lost in the music, her hands moving up and over her lace clad breasts, her sexy ass swaying temptingly just inches from him. Without thinking he reached out to caress her soft skin, left exposed in her thong panties, and her eyes flew open as she swatted his hand away. “No touching” she said harshly and began to dance again. He was disappointed, but the way she was moving was mesmerizing, and he didn’t want to cut short the show, so he decided to keep his hands to himself. For now. She turned away from him and lowered her ass until it hovered over his cock, throbbing in his pants. She began to grind her hips, her luscious bottom just brushing against him with each gyration, and he bit his lip to hold his growl inside. He gripped the sides of the chair tightly to ensure that his hands didn’t stray to her hair, her back, her thighs… She straightened and then turned to face him, spreading her legs wide so that she was straddling him. But this time, instead of hovering over him, teasing him with slight brushes against his hardness, she lowered herself fully onto his lap, and this time his growl couldn’t be stifled: he could feel her wetness through layers of fabric, could smell how turned on she was. He gripped the chair tighter, willing her to move. She smiled sweetly at him, and in that moment she was his Baby Girl again, his sweet, shy, kitten. But then she rocked her hips against him, and she was back in her role, lost in the music and in her control over him. She rocked her hips back and forth, moving with the beat, her hands sliding over her body. They moved up and down her sides, squeezed her breasts, and then pinched her nipples, visibly hard beneath the lace. She moaned softly, and he gritted his teeth. If she kept this up she was going to make him cum in his pants… She moved one hand to her face, the other still caressing her breast, and stuck her index finger in her mouth and gave it a long suck, her cheeks hollowed, lips plump, and he felt himself growing impossibly harder at the sight, knowing just what that mouth felt like when it was wrapped around his cock. He was desperately envious of her finger in that moment. She looked directly into his eyes as she pulled her finger slowly from her mouth and then added a second and pushed them back in, moving them in and out, fucking her mouth with them, all the while continuing to rock her hips into him. His eyes darkened as he watched her, nostrils flared. Forgetting himself, he moved his hands to her bottom to grind her more firmly into his cock, and she immediately pulled her fingers from her mouth and stood, taking a step back from him. “I said no touching,” she reminded him, her tone severe. She walked to the bed and retrieved a pair of handcuffs. His eyes widened. “If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, then you’re going to have to be….restrained.” He had a flutter of genuine anxiety as she walked behind him and cuffed his hands together behind the chair. He had used his ties to bind her hands and feet to the bedframe before, and she had seemed to love it. He had a new appreciation for the love and trust she must have in him to submit so fully. He loved and trusted her, as well, so he sat and allowed her to click the handcuffs into place. He knew she would take good care of him. She came back to stand in front of him and took a moment to look him up and down thoughtfully, as though wondering what to do with him next. He waited silently and patiently. Finally reaching a decision, she walked to the bed and selected a bullet vibrator from the stash of toys there. He wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers. Rather than returning to him, she climbed up on top of the bed and laid down on his side, the side that wasn’t strewn with toys. She clicked on the vibrator and began to run it up and down her neck and collar bone, sighing in enjoyment. Slowly she moved the toy down between her breasts, making smaller and smaller circles over her lace-covered flesh until the toy finally reached her hard nipples. She gasped at the contact, and he shifted in his chair, uncomfortably hard now. She seemed to enjoy the vibration on her sensitive breasts; she kept the toy there for quite some time, moaning every so often and clenching her thighs together. But finally, she began to inch the toy down her abdomen, down, down to her silky, stocking-clad thighs. If she had been intending to torture him, she was doing a fine job of it. Sweat stood out on his brow, and his eyes never left the toy in her hand. He was desperate to touch her, to taste her, to make her cum, but he was currently helpless to do anything about it other than throb in longing at her every gasp and sigh. But she was completely ignoring him. He could have been not in the room for all the attention she paid to him. She seemed lost in creating her own pleasure, now moving the toy over her still-clad pussy. She pressed it against her clit and moaned loudly before deciding the panties had become a hinderance, so she pulled them down her body and then tossed the tiny, soaked scrap of fabric his direction. Her panties landed on his right shoulder, and he moaned at how close they were, yet also so far away. They smelled amazing. She spread her legs, giving him a perfect view of her body, and began to move the toy along her slit. He could see her skin glistening with her wetness, and she pushed the tip of the toy inside, getting it wet before moving it back up to her clit, her hips beginning to move as she made small circles with the vibrator. He was breathing hard, transfixed by this show she was putting on for him. Was she going to cum? And if she did, what was she going to do with him after she did? He could tell from the sounds she was making that she was close, but then suddenly she stopped, pulling the toy away from her body and lying panting for a moment before getting up from the bed and walking over to him, the toy still buzzing in her hand. She stood in front of him and brought the toy to his lips. “Open,” she instructed, and he dutifully opened his mouth. She put the end of the toy in his mouth, and he eagerly moved his tongue against the smooth silicone, lapping up every bit of her he could get. His cock throbbed angrily in his pants. “Good boy,” she said, pulling the toy from his lips, and he very nearly snarled at her, torn between feeling talked down to but at the same time being incredibly turned on at her uncharacteristic assertiveness. She turned the toy off and then tossed it to the bed, moving to take off her lacy teddy, sliding the straps down her arms and then pushing the fabric down past her breasts and over her hips until it pooled on the floor at her feet. The sight of her naked breasts never failed to excite him, and this was no exception. His mouth watered to taste her gorgeous nipples, and he very nearly uttered the word “please” but then remembered he wasn’t supposed to speak, so he bit his tongue and contented himself with feasting his eyes upon her curves. She cupped her breasts in her own hands as if offering them up to him. “I know how much you love my tits,” she crooned. “Would you like to taste them?” He hesitated. He very much would like that, but she had instructed him to be silent… “You may answer,” she said, smiling. “Oh god, yes!” he breathed, and she laughed and leaned forward, teasing his lips with a nipple. He groaned before opening his mouth and sucking greedily at her flesh, loving the way she tasted, the way she sounded as his tongue moved over her. She pulled away from him and then offered him her other breast, and he lapped at her body like a starving man. He couldn’t get enough. But then she pulled away from him, and he groaned loudly, his hips bucking up from his seat uncontrollably. Was it possible to die from being teased like this? He was reasonably certain it was. She stood before him, in just the garter belt, stockings, and high heels, and pondered once again the toys on the before choosing a larger vibrator this time, one that made a louder sound when she clicked it on. But instead of using the toy on herself like she had with the last one, she made her way back to him in the chair. His eyes widened. What on earth was she going to do now? She stood behind him and ran the toy along the nape of his neck and across his shoulders. It felt surprisingly good, and he hummed in pleasure at the pulsing against his tense body. After a moment, she walked back around to stand in front of him and began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, while the toy buzzed away in the other. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, she brought the toy up to his chest, moving it slowly over his pectoral muscles, and he hissed as it brushed against his nipples. He wouldn’t have thought of himself as a vibrator guy, but damn if that didn’t feel really good. She smiled at his obvious enjoyment and then kneeled down in front of him and set the toy on the floor before bringing her hands up to his belt. His hips bucked again, and she giggled at his eagerness, undoing his bet and the clasp on his pants, and then unzipping them. “I’m going to take off your pants now,” she said, and he lifted his hips as much as he could so she could slide his pants and boxers down his legs. With his pants around his ankles, he sat his bare ass on the chair, his erection huge and proud. She took a moment to look at him admiringly. “You look good enough to eat,” she remarked, “and I think this lipstick would look lovely on your cock.” He moaned at her words, a small drop of precum leaking from him as he twitched and throbbed. She leaned down and lapped it up with her tongue before opening her lips and enveloping him in her hot mouth. He was speechless, mouth open soundlessly at the feeling of her finally FINALLY touching him. He’d never had a woman love him with her mouth the way she did, and she took him all the way down her throat, so that her nose was pressed against his belly. He very nearly came right then, but gritted his teeth against the waves of pleasure that threatened to overtake him. After a moment she pulled back, satisfied at the smears of crimson on the base of his cock. “See,” she said, “red is your color,” and winked at him. Then she picked the toy back up, and he groaned again. When would she put him out of his misery? She began to stroke the toy up and down his thighs as she kneeled in front of him, his hardness bobbing in her face as though begging for her mouth again. But she ignored his silent plea and instead moved her mouth further down, and began to lick his balls, lapping at them with her tongue, sliding her wet lips against them, and sucking them gently into her mouth, one at a time. He had to force himself to stay still in his seat as her wicked mouth worked its magic, but it was almost impossible to stay still once she began to run the toy along the length of his cock while sucking his balls. The buzzing vibrations against his engorged flesh combined with her relentless lips and tongue had him about to burst within seconds. “I can’t,” he ground out, knowing he would never last like this, and she immediately took her mouth and the toy from him. He cried out at the loss of contact, and she pressed one finger against his lips. “I told you to be quiet,” she reminded him. “If I have to ask you again, you’ll be gagged.” His eyes flew to the bed, and sure enough there was one of the gags he sometimes used on her. He closed his mouth and nodded his understanding. While he was enjoying their play, he did not want his mouth full of anything other than her flesh just now. But she seemed to sense that he was just about at the limits of his control, because she straddled him once more, this time lowering herself onto his lap slowly until he was completely enveloped in her sweet, hot pussy. He wanted to weep in relief, throbbing within her as her tight walls squeezed him rhythmically. “Don’t cum until I tell you,” she instructed, and he nodded. Then she began to ride him. Her breasts bounced temptingly in his face as she began to move, sliding herself all the way up his cock and then slamming all the way down, and he wished his hands were free to grab and squeeze them, to pinch her nipples while she fucked him. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back, as she used his body to find her pleasure, and he did his best not to explode until he had her permission. She knew him well enough to tell when he could take no more, knew by his breathing how close he was, and he knew she was just about to lose control as well. Finally, she looked right into his eyes, into his very soul. “Cum with me,” she panted, and that was all the permission he needed. He let out a feral growl as he stiffened within her, and she moaned and bucked against him, squeezing him almost painfully as she came with him. She lay in his lap for several moments, his cock still buried within her, as they both caught their breath. Then, she got up and retrieved the handcuff keys to undo his restraints. “Baby. Honey. Jesus. What was that?” he asked her, still dazed by the force of his orgasm. She giggled. “I was feeling a bit frisky today,” she said, shrugging, and he barked out a laugh. “I can tell!” he said. Now that they were both satiated, she was back to her usual self, “Did you enjoy it?” she asked, she blushed prettily and looking at the floor. “What do you think?” he asked, rubbing his wrists and stretching his arms as he stood from the chair. “Can’t you tell how much I liked it from the amount of cum leaking down your thighs?” Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, and he chuckled. “I love the things you do to me. I love the way you take me. And so I though you might love it, too,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head so that she’d look up at him. “It was quite an experience,” he said, and then leaned down to kiss her sweet lips. “I very much enjoyed seeing my pretty kitten become a wild cat.” She smiled and reached up to kiss him again, but he placed a finger on her lips to stop her. “You laid out all these toys that you didn’t even use,” he said gesturing to the bed. “I see nipple clamps, a blindfold, a flogger.” He smiled wickedly, his voice deepening, and her eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. “If you think I’m done with you, you have another thing coming, little girl. Because I did enjoy being yours. Very much. But tonight, you’re mine.” He heard her bare feet padding down the hallway before he heard the sound of her voice.
“Daddy?” He turned prepared to smile at her, to ask her if she was having trouble sleeping, but his smile froze in place and the words stuck in his throat when he looked at her. His wife had always been beautiful to him, but now that she was pregnant with their first child, she was glowing. It was cliché, he knew, but he found her changing body sexier than he ever had. Now she stood before him clad in a t-shirt that stretched across her growing belly and breasts. Her breasts had been luscious before, but now they were glorious, full and round and heavy. She would have been the picture of innocence, with her bare toes painted pink and her sleep tousled hair, if it weren’t for her nipples, which were completely erect and straining against her shirt, and her eyes, which were full of undisguised hunger. “I can’t sleep, Daddy,” she said softly, and his eyes darted between her nipples and her full lips as she spoke. He felt himself growing hard within his pants as she crossed the room toward him. He was at his desk, having decided to stay up late and work while she went to bed early, since she’d been so tired lately. Apparently her desire even outranked her early-pregnancy exhaustion. “Poor baby,” he said, his voice husky. He rolled his chair away from his desk and patted his lap, indicating that she should have a seat. She smiled and eagerly climbed up and onto his lap. As she did, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing any panties; in addition to the lovely visual of her bare flesh as her shirt had risen up, he had been able to smell her arousal. Baby girl was wet, he could tell, and his nostrils flared as he felt her wet heat press against his thigh through his pants. He was officially hard as steel now, but she was still playing innocent, nuzzling her face sweetly into his neck, so he decided to play along and ignore the throbbing in his pants—for now. “Why can’t you sleep, sweetheart?” he asked, holding her against his chest with one arm and stroking her hair. “I’m…I’m not sure,” she mumbled into his neck, and even as she said the words, her hips bucked, seemingly involuntarily, against his thigh, and she let out a small gasp at the feeling of the fabric of his pants rubbing against her clit. He could feel the heat coming from her face against his neck, and he knew that she was embarrassed to be so full of wanting when he had made love to her only a few hours earlier. While she had always been his frisky little kitten, pregnancy hormones and turned her into a wild cat, writhing and wanton and wanting for him. She sometimes woke him from his sleep, whimpering and wet, eagerly guiding his fingers between her legs. Even so, he knew that she was still his shy girl, that she had trouble verbalizing the extent of her need and exactly what it was that she wanted from him, but that was one of the many things he loved about her, and he was more than willing to fulfill her desires without being asked. He put a hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. Just as he suspected, he saw her cheeks flushed with embarrassment even as her eyes were dark with desire. “Do you need me to help you sleep, baby?” he asked, and she bit her lip and nodded, her hips moving again ever so slightly against him. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk before clicking off his lamp and standing up with her still in his arms. He now had much more important work to do than crunching numbers on his computer. He carried her to their bed, taking his time, kissing her cheek and breathing in the sweet smell of her as they walked. Pleasing his baby girl was a marathon, not a sprint, and he considered himself lucky to be with such a beautiful woman who needed to cum and cum and cum and who wanted him to help her do it. When they got to the bedroom, he set her down gently on the foot of the bed and bent down to take off his socks and shoes. As he unbuckled his belt, he felt her eyes on him. He hadn’t meant to put on a show for her; he’d only intended to disrobe enough to be comfortable for what he had planned and to make her comfortable too. No one wanted a belt buckle digging into their back or a shirt button pressing into their thigh while they were trying to get sexy. But the way she licked her lips, eyes fixed on him, let him know that she was enjoying watching him, nonetheless. He smirked and deliberately slowed down, inching the belt through the loops, his eyes on hers the whole time. Just when he was sure her eyes couldn’t get any bigger, he finally pulled the belt free, grabbed each end, and snapping the ends together, made a loud cracking sound and growled playfully at her. She squealed and clapped her hands, laughing at his unique brand of silly sexiness that was fun and charming and completely him. Draping the belt over the foot of the bed, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them. He could feel the way he was straining against his briefs, and her slight intake of breath when she saw him made him feel strong and virile and hungry for her. But he silently reminded his little friend that he was going to have to wait—right now, he was focused on pleasing baby girl. His pleasure would come in due time, but only after she had cum several times. Marathon, not a sprint. He began to unbutton his shirt and started to move his hips, dancing just a bit for her as he disrobed, and she shimmied along to the beat he set, moving to music neither could hear but both could feel. He watched the sway and bounce of her breasts as she moved and groaned slightly before finally sliding off his button up-shirt and pulling his undershirt over his head. Now that he was clad in only his underwear, he moved to the head of the bed and sat right in the middle, his legs parted. He motioned that she should join him, and she crawled across the bed to him, and sat between his legs. “Turn around and lie back against me,” he said into her ear, giving the lobe a small lick, and she shivered before obeying him. He loved the trust she had in him, loved the way she always did as he asked without question or hesitation. He hoped he would always be deserving of her adoration. Once she was lying back against his chest, he began to rub her shoulders. She had continued working, planned to right up until she had the baby, and he knew that the hours she spent hunched over her computer often led her to have knots of tension between her shoulder blades. She moaned softly in pleasure at the feeling of his hands, so warm even through the fabric of her t-shirt. He was rubbing his thumbs in rhythmic circles pressing ever so slightly against the knots he felt there, and she sagged against him even more as he worked out the tension. After a few minutes of rubbing her shoulders and upper back, he moved his hands to stroke up and down her arms, while he began placing soft kisses on the back and sides of her neck. The feeling of his soft lips and hot breath gave her goosebumps, and she bucked her hips again, though there was nothing there to move against, to touch her where she so desperately needed to be touched. He continued stroking up and down her arms, moving further in until his hands brushed the outside of her breasts on each pass. He could feel her shallow breathing, knew just where and how she needed to be touched. This quiet teasing was all part of the buildup his baby girl needed to cum so good for him. He looked down over her shoulder to see her nipples, hard and pressing against her shirt as his hands now brushed lightly against the underside of her breasts. He cupped them in his big hands and loved their full heaviness, the way they filled his palms. Finally, he brushed his thumbs lightly over her nipples and was rewarded by a whimper and another hip buck. So many women complained of sore breasts during pregnancy, but his baby girl was seemingly extraordinary in every way, and rather than complaining that her breasts hurt, she was fascinated by their newfound sensitivity, their new size and shape, the hyper-reactivity of her nipples. In quiet moments at home, he had often noticed her cupping and caressing them herself, loving the feel of being touched so much that she couldn’t quite resist. Once, although he would never tell her so, lest he embarrass her, he had heard her in the kitchen and stopped just in the doorway, transfixed by what he was witnessing: she had taken an ice cube from the freezer, pulled down her top, exposing her breasts, and ran the ice around her nipples, eyes closed in pleasure as she did so. He had snuck back down the hallway with a raging hard on, letting her have her moment of privacy, and had pretended to act surprised when moments later she joined him in the bedroom, fully aroused, pushed him back on the bed, and rode him until they were both spent. He loved watching her explore her body and her pleasure, and he loved that he got to help her do so. Now, as she lay back against him, he ran his fingers lightly up and down her nipples, using the her shirt for added friction, pinching the fabric between his fingers and moving it over the tips of her breasts. Her hands, which had been resting on his thighs, now gripped them firmly, and her hips rocked back into him, against his hardness, and then forward, searching for contact, for relief, as his fingers worked their magic on her breasts. He knew that she could cum this way, just from the feel of his fingers on her nipples, had made her do so in the past, but he had other plans for her just now. Leaning slightly to the right, he took one hand from her (she let out a sad moan at the loss of contact) and opened her bedside drawer, fishing around inside it for a moment before pulling out a small, pink toy, her favorite, he knew, although she was still bashful about using them with him. Her eyes widened when she saw the toy in his hands. It hummed softly when he turned it on, and the sound alone seemed to trigger something within her as her eyes darkened. “Lie back,” he said, and it was clearly a command and not a request. She swallowed, tore her eyes from the toy, and then closed her eyes and lie back against him once more. He moved the toy along the nape of her neck and then across her collarbone. Her head lolled back, lips parted, as the toy relaxed her muscles further. Moving the toy in circles around her breasts, he finally placed the tip of it directly on her left nipple just as he pressed a hot kiss against the side of her neck. “Oh yessssss,” she hissed, face contorted in pleasure as he held the toy vibrated against her just *there* where she needed it so much. He moved back and forth between her breasts with the toy, circling her nipples, pressing the toy into them, strumming it up and down over them, and generally driving her crazy. “Can we take this shirt off, honey?” he asked in her ear, and she nodded, breathless, lifting up her arms so he could pull the garment from her. Finally he could see them, the beautiful, pale, pink-tipped breasts that occupied so many of his thoughts, and he made a small sound of appreciation before pulling her back against his chest. They were skin to skin now, and the intimacy of that, the warmth between their bodies, made everything that much more pleasurable. Now, when he pressed the toy against her nipple, there was no fabric in his way, and he could see for himself the way her body reacted, the way the areola puckered as if reaching for even more contact. He tugged on her right arm, indicating that she should give him her hand, and she obeyed, bringing up her hand to his. He pressed the still buzzing toy into her hand and when she turned her head to look at him in question, he explained what he wanted: “Take your toy and press it against your clit while I tease your nipples, baby,” he told her, loving the way she blushed sweetly while at the same time gasped in pleasure at the thought. “Daddy is going to make you feel so good.” She nodded, ever obedient, and turned back around to lie back against him, feel flat on the bed, knees bent. She began trailing the toy over her breasts, as he had done, but quicky moved it lower, to move against her stomach, so his fingers could continue their ministrations. He placed his hands back on her breasts, circling the nipples with his thumbs, strumming against the tips with his forefingers, and doing anything else he thought she might enjoy. She parted her legs slowly, shyly, as she began to move the toy lower and lower, stroking it down her inner thighs before finally circling her clit with the tip of it. She was moaning almost continuously now, feeling the heat and hardness of him against her back, the caress of his fingers on her breasts, and the buzzing of the toy on her clit. She had been so turned on, so ready to cum that she felt nearly embarrassed at how quickly she was teetering on the edge. “Cum,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest so she could feel it as well as hear it, and just like that she erupted, trembling and keening in his arms. When it was too much to bear, she tossed the toy away, and his hands on her body slowed, moving from her now too sensitive nipples back to the outsides of her breasts. While she had been a good girl and cum hard for him, just as he’d instructed, he knew that one wouldn’t be enough unless he wanted to be awoken later on in the night, and while truthfully, he didn’t mind her midnight desperation (he found it exceedingly sexy, as a matter of fact), he wanted to please her now so she could get some rest. He knew she was tired despite her body’s neediness. She was still catching her breath when he moved himself out from beneath her, settling her back on the pillows and moving down the bed, gently parting her legs so he could lie between them. She smiled down at him, and somehow even that simple gesture made his heart skip in his chest. He couldn’t help but smile back. He moved up her body to kiss her, his elbows on either side of her stomach, careful not to put any of his weight on her. She buried her hands in his hair, pulling him even closer as her tongue moved with his. They kissed for what could have been hours but what was probably minutes before, panting, he pulled his mouth from hers and moved it down her neck and then down to her breasts. She had always loved having her breasts kissed and sucked on, which was lucky for him because the taste of her nipples was one of his very favorite things in the world. He swiped his tongue against her left nipple, which he knew was just a bit more sensitive than the right, and smiled at the sound she made. He loved that he knew her body so well, knew what would make her gasp and moan and shiver. He brought up his right hand to stroke her other breast while he kissed, licked and sucked at her left one, pulling the nipple far into his mouth and sucking deeply. This time when she bucked her hips, her clit brushed up against his stomach, and she groaned at the contact, feeling him simultaneously everywhere at once. She continued to move her hips into him, and he loved the feel of her wetness rubbing against him, marking him with her scent. As he sucked even harder on her nipple, he felt a small drop of liquid fall from the tip, and he swallowed down her sweetness greedily before pulling back and looking up at her in astonishment. Sure enough, he saw a bead of liquid, like a little pearl, clinging to her other nipple. He very nearly came in his shorts at the sight of it. “Oh my fuck, baby, that is the hottest thing I have ever seen,” he said, his voice gravelly with how turned on he was. She looked down, just as surprised as he was. They had been dutifully reading the parenting books, so they both knew that pregnant women sometimes leaked small amounts of fluid before giving birth. But somehow, reading that clinical information in cold, black and white print, had not prepared him for the way he would feel when he saw milk drip from his lover’s nipples, had not prepared him for the way she would taste. Her cheeks were flushed, and if he knew his baby girl at all, he knew she was going to be embarrassed about this. She was going to wonder if, somehow, he was disgusted by the sight or taste of what was happening. Before she could start to spiral in that direction, he took her face firmly in his hands and looked into her eyes, leaving her no escape from him. “Don’t you dare,” he said, the kindness of his voice softening the harshness of his words. “You are the sexiest fucking woman I have ever seen. Ever. And the fact that your body can do this, can make life, out of our love, is…” Now it was his turn to be embarrassed as emotion suddenly overtook him. She heard the catch in his voice and leaned forward to kiss him. This was beyond sex, and they were beyond words. She was his and he was hers and this was everything. Desperate for another taste of her sweetness, he moved back down and squeezed her breast softly, tongue already out to catch whatever her body would offer him. Another small drop of liquid beaded at the tip, and he lapped it up, moving quickly to the other side. The tingling feeling of her breasts releasing combined with the warmth and wetness of his tongue moving against her had her on the edge again in moments. “Daddy, I think I’m going to….” She gasped, almost not believing it even as it was happening to her. “Yes, baby, do it. Cum again for your Daddy. Cum all over me,” he growled, mouth still on her breasts, as she ground her hips into him, her clit against his abdomen. Her moans were louder and longer this time, and he smiled with satisfaction. Baby girl had cum even better this second time. He licked the last of the milk from her nipples and looked up at her sweet face. She could cum at least once more, he decided, despite how tired she looked. He had plans for this one…. He reached over to the side of the bed where the abandoned toy had been tossed and picked it up again. “Oh god,” she whispered in excited disbelief when she saw what was in his hand, wondering what on earth he had in store for her next. “Lie back against the pillows and hold on tight to me, little girl,” he said. “I’m going to make you see Jesus.” Her eyes bugged out of her head before she covered her face with her hands and dutifully settled herself back against the pillows and opened her legs to him once more. He set the toy down for the moment and began stroking up and down her thighs in long sweeps, his big, warm hands smoothing down the goosebumps that had erupted during her last orgasm. As he stroked her, he dropped soft, sweet kisses all along her inner thighs. He nuzzled his stubbled chin against her, smiling at the way that made her groan. She loved his stubble; she always told him how handsome it made him look, but he also knew that she loved the way it prickled against her soft skin when he rubbed it against her. Good Daddies know these things about their baby girls. The strokes of his hands got closer and closer to her sweet pussy, and his mouth got more and more intimate with her, licking and softly biting the tender flesh of her thighs, until he was kissing along her outer lips and then…. The first swipe of his tongue against her clit had her lifting her hips off the mattress and making the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. He kissed her softly there, used his tongue to make circles around her sweet spot, and then flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth over it until she was incoherent, hands gripping his hair so hard it was almost painful, but he loved the way it hurt. Now it was time for the toy. He grabbed it, turned it on, and began to trace up and down her slit with the tip of it even while his tongue was still stroking her clit. “Daaaaaaddddddyyyyyyyyyyy” she moaned, and somehow it was a protest, a plea, and a question all at once. “Shhhhh,” he mumbled against her wet flesh. “Daddy loves you. Daddy’s taking care of you.” He inserted the small toy into her opening and then slid both his hands beneath her ass to lift her more fully into his mouth as he feasted on her. He could see that her hands were at her breasts, squeezing them, and he knew that she was close. Between the pulsing of the toy within her, the movement of his mouth against her, and her own hands pulling at her nipples, there was no way she could last for long. Suddenly she was spasming, jerking against him so much that he was struggling to keep his mouth on her to draw out her orgasm. “Oh FUCK!” she exclaimed, her pussy contracting so much that the toy slid from her body, and suddenly, to both her surprise and his, a small stream of clear fluid shot out of her pussy and over his face. Her thighs shook and even as she covered her face in shock and embarrassment, more small streams of fluid were flowing from her rhythmically along with the convulsions of her body. This was new to them both. Sure, they had heard about squirting, and he had experienced that with other women in the past, but his baby girl had never cum for him like this, and while he had thought drinking the milk from her breasts had been the sexiest thing to ever happen to him, this, knowing that he had made this happen to her, that he had made her feel this way, surpassed even that, and he quickly opened his mouth back up to drink in as much of her sweetness as he could get. Between seeing her pulsing pussy squirt all over him and the sweet taste and smell of her, he was could feel what was about to happen only a moment before it did, and he was powerless to stop it: he came in his underpants like a 12 year old. “Oh god, baby,” he groaned, as he pushed his hips into the mattress and felt his hot cum spurt into the fabric of his briefs. She still had her hands over her face, and hearing what was unmistakably an orgasm, she peeked at him from between her fingers. “Did you just….?” she asked. He laughed in spite of his embarrassment. “Yeah, I did. I just fucking came in my shorts like a teenage boy. But Jesus, baby, can you blame me? You are absolute fire. Every time I think you can’t get hotter, somehow you do. I nearly creamed myself when I tasted your milk, but you squirting on me was more than I could bear. You’re just too sexy,” he finished, shrugging, and she giggled. He was glad he could use this moment to build her up, to keep her from being embarrassed or ashamed of anything that had happened between them tonight, because he knew the way her mind worked, knew that was her first instinct. “Wow,” she said, the flush on her cheeks from pride rather than embarrassment. “I made Daddy cum without even touching you there. That must be like, a new record, or something. I feel sorta powerful now,” she said, her eyes alight with mischief. He swooped up and grabbed her in his arms, nibbling her neck and growling and making her squeal and laugh. “Don’t get too excited, princess,” he warned, tickling her. “I’ll get my revenge. Tomorrow I start on project ‘Make Babygirl Cum Without Touching Her.’ You know I’ll do it, too,” he added with a wink, and she knew he was right. “What do you say, Baby,” he asked finally. “Want to take a shower with me, clean off all these assorted bodily fluids, and then call it a night? Think you’ll be able to sleep now?” He asked with a smirk. “Yes, a shower sounds wonderful, but no, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” He looked at her in disbelief. “What?” he asked, not sure he heard her correctly. “Did you say you STILL won’t be able to sleep? Woman, you are INSATIABLE!” She erupted into giggles then. “No, Daddy, *that’s* not why I won’t be able to sleep. That part of me is very happy indeed.” She blushed. “But now I’m hungry,” she added, and as if on cue her little belly grumbled, and they both laughed. “Okay, new plan,” he announced. “Shower, snack, and then bed. Deal?” “Deal,” she said, smiling. The early morning light slants through the blinds, and I attempt to stretch, but there is a very large, very male human draped half over me rendering movement almost impossible. I smile at the memories of last night, of our almost but not quite first time.
After making love to each other in every way possible that wasn’t technically sex, we had gone back to the kitchen for reheated spaghetti and Lady and the Tramp style smooches before going for a long walk in the moonlight. Unexpectedly tired after an evening of orgasms, carbs, and cardio, I ended up falling asleep cuddled next to you as you read to me, our technical virginity still intact. But now, after a restful sleep next to the man I loved, my body is once again thrumming with desire. Your even breathing and sleep-softened face make me almost reluctant to wake you. Almost. But the desire to feel your kisses and your touch make me lean up to brush my mouth against yours. I can feel the moment when you start to wake, when your lips engage with mine, when the rhythm of your breathing changes ever so slightly. I open my eyes to see you smiling sleepily at me. “Mornin’, Baby,” you say, and the gravelly timber of your just-woke-up voice gives me butterflies. “Good morning,” I say softly, and then attempt wriggle out from underneath you. Your arms tighten around me. “Where do you think you’re going, lil girl?” you ask, a hint of devilment in your voice, and I hide my face, embarrassed. “I….have to go potty,” I say from behind my hands, and you laugh and immediately release your hold on me. “Okay, little one, scoot then!” you say, and I scramble off the bed to head to the bathroom. You swat my bottom playfully and say, “But hurry back, okay?” “I will, Daddy,” I say, and once I’m done using the bathroom I make sure to brush my teeth carefully and rinse with mouthwash. I don’t want a hint of morning breath when I get to really kiss you this morning. I begin to attempt to fix my hair but then realize it is a lost cause, and that you’ll likely just mess it up anyway. I walk back to the bedroom to find you lying on your back, covers cast away, naked and glorious, and I stop in my tracks for a moment to admire you before perching at the foot of the bed. It seems that no matter how many times you assure me that I am wanted, that I am loved, there is always that shyness that creeps back in. “Come here, Baby,” you say, and I am grateful that you allow me to be shy, that you allow me to be timid. That you allow me to be myself. I come fully onto the bed, and you open your arms to me. I gratefully lie next to you, breathing in your scent and warmth. “Are you happy?” you ask, and I can only nod. I am so blissfully, contentedly happy, happy in a way I have never known before, and it transcends words for me at this moment. I can feel you smile against my forehead before you place a soft kiss there. “I want to make love to you this morning. I mean, really make love.” I look up into your handsome face and I know you can see in my eyes how much I want you. Then your mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply, hungrily, and I can no longer think, just feel. Your mouth trails down my neck to worship my breasts, and I am panting within moments, teetering on the brink at just the touch of your tongue on my nipples. But before I fall off the edge, you move lower, nipping at my stomach, lower, skipping the part where I so desperately need you, moving down to my thighs. I cry out when you sink your teeth into the soft flesh of my right thigh before licking away the sting of the bite with your hot tongue. I am awash in sensations, and nothing exists for me in this moment except for you. I feel your breath against me there, there where I am wet and hot and throbbing, and my hips buck up involuntarily, but you move your head back. I am whimpering and writhing as you touch me with nothing except for your breath as you blow on me softly, repeatedly. Am I so desperate for you that I can come from a breath of air? It would seem that way… Except finally, finally, your lips brush against my clit and then you take it into your mouth, and the sounds I made are not quite human as you kiss me lick me suck me. “Daddy,” I whimper. I am sweating and trembling and seconds away from exploding into your mouth. “Please. I need you inside of me. I want to cum with you inside me. Please.” Your kisses stop and you look up at me from between my legs and smirk. The expression on your face stops my heart. “You will, Baby. You will,” you say, and it’s both a threat and a promise, and you lower your head back down to my heaven and I cum and cum and cum. I am still shaking when your kisses slow, and trail back up my body. I feel your mouth, wet with my love for you, lick up my stomach and trail sticky kisses against my breasts before meeting mine once more. I am lost in your kiss, lost in the magic of tasting myself on your lips, lost in my love for you. You never break our kiss, your eyes on mine, as I feel the head of your cock brush against my opening, and I know that in this moment we are sharing something that we can never take back, something that will change us. “Yes,” I say in response to your hesitation, because whatever question you have in mind, the only answer is yes. Yes, I want this. Yes, I am yours. Yes, I love you. You begin to press into me, slowly, and despite the fact that I am dripping from your earlier attention, you are rather large, and it is a snug fit. “Let me in, sweetheart,” you say, and your voice in my ear makes me throb anew. You grit your teeth and push just a bit more, and I will my body to relax and accept you. Inch by inch you move until you are buried within me, I am complete, and you are home. We stare at each other for a moment in silence, moved by the way our bodies have joined just as our hearts have. Your mouth moves with mine in tandem to the rhythm set by your hips as you begin to thrust. The slight discomfort I felt at the invasion of my body soon evaporates and is replaced by warmth and pleasure. Your pelvis grinds deliciously against my clit with every movement, and the head of your cock hits a spot inside me with each thrust that makes me gasp. My hips are rising to meet yours, my arms wrapped around you as though you could get any closer, every moan and growl that falls from your lips a reward that I treasure. I have had sex before. I have made love before. I have never done this before. I am spiraling higher than I knew was possible, building toward something that I know will be powerful, so intense that I am almost frightened of it. “James,” I gasp against your neck, burying my face there, readying myself for the orgasm that continues to build within me. “Yes, baby, yes,” you chant in my ear, moving somehow even deeper inside me. The rhythm of your body, the feel of your breath on my skin, your voice in my ear, all push me hurtling over the edge. I am beyond words, sobbing against you as my body convulses. I can feel you grow impossibly bigger and harder inside of me, and I know that you will soon tumble over with me. You groan loudly and squeeze me to you so tightly it almost hurts, and I can feel you pulse and throb so deep inside. We are both sweating and shaking, and in the quiet moments that follow our bliss, I am embarrassed to feel tears prickling at my eyes and a lump growing in my throat. Except that when you lift yourself up slightly, I see that your eyes are wet, too, and I know that I am not along in feeling this, this overwhelming love we share. So with we kiss with teary eyes and trembly lips, with your cock still buried deep inside me, knowing that whatever the future brings to us, we will face it together. “Hey, baby girl, how about I make you dinner tonight?”
We’d been on several dates at this point, but always out somewhere. A restaurant. The movies. Your voice on the phone was casual, but I knew that this was an important step for us. We would be at your house. Alone. I cleared my throat before answering. “Sure. That sounds great.” “Great. Is 7:00 okay?” I could hear the smile in your voice. “That’s perfect.” “See you then,” you said, and I bit my lip as I looked at my watch and hung up the phone. If being alone with you at your house meant what I thought it meant, I had some major work to do in the next few hours. After several emergency appointments, including a blowout, a Brazilian wax, a facial, and a mani/pedi, seven o’clock found me standing on your doorstep in a newly purchased outfit. If you were going to be seeing me naked, I wanted the outfit I wore to look good on your bedroom floor. I took a deep breath before ringing the bell. This was it. The big night. Our first time. “Hey there,” you said as you opened the door and motioned for me to come in. “Hi,” I said, looking down and suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. “Never show up to a guest’s house empty handed” my mother had always said, and yet here I was with nothing to give you. I’d have felt stupid with flowers, and I never knew what kind of wine to get…. “What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” you asked, ever the mind reader. “I didn’t bring anything….I mean, a guest is supposed to bring something…you know, for the host, and I—” You held a single finger up to my lips to quiet my rambling, and my body gave a little shiver of excitement at your touch despite the overworking of my anxious brain. “Hang on a minute. I have a problem with something you said.” My brow wrinkled in confusion and, seeing that I was about to start in on another tirade, you pushed your finger more firmly into my lips. “You are not my guest. You are my baby girl. My love. I don’t need you to bring me anything. Tonight, you are my gift. Do you understand?” My knees were wobbly by the end of your speech. I looked into your eyes, dark with desire, and snuck my tongue out from between my parted lips to lap at your finger before saying, “Yes, Daddy.” Your nostrils flared as your eyes moved between my eyes and my lips, now pressed against your finger in a kiss. “Jesus, girl,” you growled, “I really did cook for us tonight, but if you keep that up I’m going to be eating you for dinner instead.” I felt a rush of desire move through me at your words, but I didn’t want to rush this evening. We had all night. “Sorry, Daddy,” I said, and you pulled your finger from my lips and wrapped your arms around me. “Behave yourself, little girl,” you whispered in my ear and then gave my neck a soft bite before pulling me into the kitchen. I took a deep breath to quiet the growing desire deep in my belly and followed you to the kitchen. “Mmmm, spaghetti!” I said, looking at the pot on the stove. “Homemade sauce, too. None of that jar stuff.” “Yum. Anything I can do to help get ready?” “Want to help make the salad?” “Yes. Teach me your ways, Chef.” You smiled and then led me to the cutting board on the counter. “Here, take this,” you said, handing me a large knife. “Be careful, it’s sharp. Can you chop up this head of Romaine?” “Sure,” I answered smiling. I made quick work of the lettuce and deposited my handiwork into a beautiful wooden bowl you handed me. “What’s next?” “What all do you like in your salad?” you asked, opening your fridge and surveying the contents. “I’m a kitchen sink kind of girl,” I answered. You laughed. “Okay, then,” you said and started taking things out of your fridge. “Here, wash this off first,” you said, handing me a cucumber. You had a gleam in your eyes that I didn’t understand until I was at the sink running my hands around the cucumber under the running water. The shape and size…I could feel my cheeks turning red, and I chanced a glance at you to see you watching me. “Make sure it’s really clean,” you said, and chuckled at my embarrassment. After drying and chopping the cucumber, I rummaged through the fridge to see what else we might include. Finally, after adding some grape tomatoes, sliced radishes, grated carrot, green onions, and crumbled bacon, my masterpiece was complete. “Finished,” I announced just as you took a pan with hot garlic bread out of the oven. “Me, too,” you replied. “Perfect timing. Shall we eat?” My stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, and we both laughed. “I guess that’s a yes,” you said smiling, and led me to the dining room where the table was beautifully set for two. You pulled out my chair for me and placed my napkin on my lap, taking care to smooth it over my thighs, bare in my short skirt, and I got goosebumps at your touch. “Be right back,” you whispered in my ear, “Don’t go anywhere,” I nodded, breathless, as you went back to the kitchen to bring in the food. Once you had brought in the spaghetti, salad, and bread, you served us both. “You even remembered that I like my iced tea unsweetened!” I exclaimed after taking a sip of my drink. “I pay attention to what’s important,” you said, your eyes on mine. “You’re important to me.” I blushed and looked down, pleasantly flustered by your attention. I took a quick bite of salad to cover my inability to speak. “Yum!” I exclaimed. “We make a great team. This salad turned out awesome!” You took a bite as well. “Was there ever any doubt?” you asked after you had swallowed. “We are salad makers extraordinaire!” I giggled and then took a bite of spaghetti, trying to be careful not to get any on my clothes. Or my face. Or the tablecloth. Spaghetti is messy. “Oh wow. I can tell this is not a jar of pasta sauce. It is soooo good!” I said. “It’s a family recipe,” you said, smiling. “It’s pretty simple. Just tomatoes, garlic, basil, olive oil, the tears of my enemies…” I sputtered out a laugh, nearly choking on my bite of garlic bread. “You’re sweet, so you probably don’t have many enemies,” you went on, straight faced, “but I find that that ingredient adds the perfect amount of salt.” “You goofball,” I said, swatting your shoulder affectionately. “Hey!” I exclaimed, as an idea jumped into my mind. “Do you know what we should do?!” “A Lady and the Tramp style spaghetti slurp?” you replied immediately. I gaped at you in astonishment. “I…..how did you know I was going to say that?!” I asked, bewildered. “Baby,” you said, chuckling, “Why do you think I made spaghetti in the first place?” I covered my face in embarrassment at being so easy to read. “Fair enough,” I said, putting down my fork. “Can we?” You smiled at me. “Absolutely.” You fished out a good sized strand of pasta from my plate and put one end in your mouth before bringing the other to my lips. I opened my mouth and you placed the noodle on my tongue. I closed my lips around your finger and gave a small suck, watching your eyes narrow and your pupils dilate before pulling your finger away. I pulled the pasta into my mouth in small increments and watched as you did the same, your lips and tongue moving slowly and getting closer and closer to mine. There was just an inch or so between us now, and I could feel your breath on my cheeks, feel the warmth radiating from your body. What had started out as a silly, lighthearted kiss somehow had me so worked up I was squirming in my seat. You put your hands on my face and then leaned in and bit the pasta off right where it entered my mouth, your lips brushing against mine. I swallowed my bite as you did yours, and instantly your lips were on me, moving with mine, your tongue inside my mouth, tasting of tomatoes and sex. I pressed myself against you, loving the feel of your hard chest against my breasts, and whimpered into your mouth. Suddenly breaking our kiss, you stood and roughly gathered me into your arms, making me squeal. “I know you’re hungry,” you said, “and I promise to feed you. But I’m hungry, too. Hungry for you. Please, baby,” I could do nothing but nod, but that was all you seemed to need from me. You carried me down the hallway into your bedroom. As a curious person, I normally would have been looking around and trying to learn more about you by looking at things like what kind of art you had hanging up or whether you were neat or messy. But I was transfixed by your gaze, and as I felt myself being placed onto a soft bed, all I could see was you. Your large body immediately covered mine, and then you were kissing me again. Our kisses were endless as your fingers wove into my hair and your tongue moved with mine. My body writhed under yours, craving more. After an indeterminate amount of time that felt both like an eternity and like a heartbeat, you wrenched your lips from mine and we both panted, trying to catch our breath. You pulled me to a sitting position and pulled my top from the waistband of my skirt and then up and over my head. I had new underthings on, white and lacy. “Oh sweetheart,” you said, tracing your hands over my lace-clad breasts, my nipples visible through the lace, pink and hard, and I was so pleased that you enjoyed what you saw. Your lips once again pressed against my flesh, this time just behind my ear. You placed soft, gentle kisses and licks down my jaw, down my neck, down, down, into my cleavage, and I tangled my fingers in your hair and closed my eyes, loving the feeling of your mouth on my skin. I inhaled sharply as I felt the quick, sharp sting of your teeth as you bit my left nipple through the fabric of my bra before soothing away the sting with a soft lick. The feeling of the lace and your hot, wet tongue against my nipple made me moan out loud, and I felt your mouth curve into a smile against my skin. One of your hands moved up to lightly pinch my right nipple as your tongue swirled circles around my left, and my hips bucked of their own volition and I moaned again. “Somehow I knew that my little girl would have sensitive nipples,” you said, your breath hot against me. Then you sat up, and I whimpered at the loss of contact, reaching my arms out for you. “Stand up,” you said, and I obeyed. “As pretty as it looks on you, I want you to take off your bra for me.” I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra and then slid the straps down my shoulders, looking into your eyes the whole time. I pulled the straps from my arms and tossed it to the floor beside the bed, standing straight and proud before your predatory gaze, my nipples becoming impossibly harder. “So beautiful,” you said, still not touching me with anything except your eyes, your voice. “I knew you would be. I could tell without ever seeing them unclothed that your breasts were tempting. Round. Full. Soft. Those pretty pink nipples are a pleasant surprise. I should have guessed.” You trailed a single finger around the curve of my left breast, and my breath caught in my throat. “You’re so fair, after all,” you went on, now tracing my right breast. “And most fair skinned women have the loveliest shade of pink at the tips of their breasts. You are no exception to that.” You sat on the bed, still fully clothed, and beckoned me to sit between your parted legs, my back against your chest, my ass nestled firmly against your crotch. I could feel how big and hard you were as I leaned back against you, unsure of what you were going to do next. “Put your arms by your sides and close your eyes,” you instructed, and I did as you asked. I was incredibly aroused, my panties uncomfortably damp from the wetness that was dripping from me. After a pause just long enough that I nearly opened my eyes to see what you were doing, I felt your fingertips brush lightly against my nipples, and I gasped at the sensation. “Shhh,” you whispered into my ear. “It’s okay, little one. Just lie back and enjoy my touch.” Your fingers were lightly circling my nipples, just barely brushing against them, rubbing softly at the puckered areolas, and the feeling was so intense, much more so than when I touched them myself, alone, in the dark privacy of my bedroom. I writhed my hips, wanting so much to touch myself, to find some kind of relief from the tension that was building within me. “Don’t touch yourself,” you commanded, reading my mind yet again. “Daddy’s going to make you cum just from touching your nipples.” I frowned, my eyes still closed. Was that even possible? “Yes, women can cum just from nipple stimulation,” you said, a hint of a smile in your voice. Inwardly I rolled my eyes. Why did I even bother speaking out loud at all anymore when clearly you could hear my every thought? All the while, your fingers were still circling my aching nipples, and I could feel a building excitement low in my stomach that made me think, despite my skepticism, that maybe you were right. “Let me take care of you,” you whispered, and I relaxed back against you, enjoying the rhythmic stroking of your hands. After a moment, you began to roll my nipples between your thumbs and forefingers, and this new sensation amped up my desire. I moaned oud loud and bucked my hips. Your fingers were constantly moving over my breasts, my nipples never having a moment of relief from your touch, and somehow, like magic, it was as though I could feel your touch on my clit, too, throbbing inside my now soaked panties. Then you began strumming your fingers lightly over the very tips of my nipples, and I could feel something tightening deep inside me. “Let it happen, Baby,” you said softly into my ear. “Let go for me. You’re safe in my arms. Daddy has you. Daddy loves you. Cum, sweetheart. Cum for your Daddy,” Somehow the combination of your fingers against my nipples and your voice in my ear made me come undone, and I was bucking and writhing and moaning and having one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had in my life. “Yes, baby, that’s it. That’s my girl. That’s my good girl. I love you so much, baby.” You whispered continuously into my ear as I came and then as I lay against you, panting and spent, your hands still stroking my breasts, but this time the outer edges, staying away from my hyper-sensitive nipples. After a moment, once I had caught my breath, I turned to look at you, still shocked at what had just taken place. “How did you….how did you do that to me?” I asked the question almost accusingly, but really I was just genuinely curious. You smiled at me. “Not every woman can do it,” you said in explanation. “Only those who are more in touch with their bodies, their sexuality. I know you’re a shy little thing, and a bit inexperienced, but you have such a sensuality about you. I was nearly positive you could do it. And you proved me right,” you added, winking at me, and despite everything that had transpired between us, despite the fact that I had just had an earth-shattering orgasm with you, I blushed, and you threw your head back and laughed. “Only you would blush even after letting me bring you to orgasm just with my hands on your breasts.” Of course that made me blush harder, and I covered my burning face in my hands, laughing along with you. Then I felt your hand rub my bare shoulder, and I peered at you through parted fingertips. I saw your cock, huge and hard through your pants, and was dismayed at my selfishness. Here I was half naked and post-orgasmic and you were still raring to go! I went to reach for your belt buckle to remedy that situation, but you brushed my hand away. “Don’t mind him,” you said, gesturing to your cock, who twitched like an excited puppy beneath my gaze. We both giggled. “He can wait a bit. I’m not done with you yet.” “Oh god, you’re not?” I asked. Somehow I was both wary and excited, and you laughed again. “Not even close.” Quick as lightning, you scooped me up and tossed me against the pillows at the head of your bed and covered me once again with your body, kissing me hungrily. I could feel your hardness rubbing against me, and I gasped at the sensation. Despite having cum just a few minutes before, my body responded to your touch immediately. After breaking our kiss, your lips moved down my neck and to my breasts, licking in between them and then kissing the soft underside. “I find that the underside of women’s breasts are often underappreciated,” you said, between licks and kisses. “So soft, so sensitive. More men should pay attention to this area. Don’t you think?” you asked, but I was beyond words. I clutched at your shoulders, trying to pull you closer. Your tongue trailed across my right breast, just barely flicking the tip of my nipple as it passed, and I shuddered at the contact. “Does that feel good, baby?” you asked. “I bet it does.” You flicked your tongue against my nipple harder before giving it a long lick and then sucking it into your warm, wet mouth. “Oh Jesus,” I whimpered, eyes rolled back in my head. “Jesus isn’t here, love,” you said, chuckling, “But Daddy is, and Daddy is going to make you feel so good.” You continued sucking at my nipple, nibbling it with your lips, grazing it with your teeth, and flicking it with your tongue. I whimpered when you raised your head, never wanting you to stop. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy won’t stop. But Daddy knows that your left breast is more sensitive than your right. Isn’t that right, baby girl? So Daddy is going to give that pretty little nipple some love, too.” In a haze of desire, I briefly wondered how you could possibly know that my left breast was the more sensitive of the two when your head moved to the left and then all thought was made impossible by the delicious wickedness of your tongue against my skin. The heat and wetness of your tongue, flicking, licking with firm strokes, kissing, sucking, felt so good I was almost sure I was going to cum again, but then, just as I started to spiral, you moved your mouth down to my stomach, scattering soft kisses all across my abdomen, licking around my belly button and darting your tongue in, looking up at me. My fingers still tangled in your hair, I watched you, transfixed. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of my skirt and pulled it down. I lifted my hips to help you remove it, and you tossed it to the floor, to join the rest of my garments. Now I was nearly naked before you, clad only in minuscule white lace panties. “Oh, sweetheart,” you breathed, hands gently tracing down my hips, down my outer thighs, and then parting my knees. “Daddy has been waiting for this moment.” I instinctively tried to close my knees as you moved in, very much aware of how wet I was and vaguely worried I might smell bad. “Baby,” you said, stroking my thighs, “Please don’t be shy with me. All Daddy wants is to make you feel good. Isn’t that what you want, too?” I nodded, and let my legs fall open so you could lie on your stomach between my legs, your mouth just inches away from where I was a pulsing, throbbing mess. You inhaled deeply, eyes closed, and then, still stroking my thighs, your tongue darted out to lick up my soaked lace panties. I gasped at the feeling of your tongue, even through the fabric. “I love that you’re bare,” you said, running a fingertip up and down my lace-covered slit. “Did you do that for me?” I nodded, and you took another long lick and then nuzzled your face into my pussy. “Good girl,” you said. After placing several more soft kisses through my panties, you almost reluctantly began to slide them down my hips to remove them. “Are you very partial to these?” you asked, holding them up with one finger after you had taken them off. I shook my head, unsure of what you were going to do. It was too late for you to rip them off of me, after all… “Good,” you said, folding them carefully and setting them on the bedside table. “Because they’re soaked with your cum and smell like heaven and I’m keeping them forever.” I would have been mortified if I weren’t also so turned on, but before I could say anything, you returned to your place between my parted legs, but now there was no barrier of fabric between us. You ran soft kisses up and down my inner thighs and around my pussy, teasing, soft brushes of your lips that were both infuriating and intoxicating. I began to move my hips, trying to maneuver myself so that your mouth would finally hit right where I needed you, but the only thing that touched me was your breath, when you’d give a deliberate exhale as you passed between my thighs. One of your hands ceased its stroking of my legs and gentle fingers started stroking the soft skin in between my thigh and my pussy, just above it, and then finally brushing a fingertip against my clit. Your touch was like an electric current, and my hips bucked clear off the bed as I moaned loudly. “Shhhh, little one. It’s okay,” you said, your breath against my hot skin. Then, finally, your tongue darted out, lightly tracing around my clit as your finger tip moved down to press against my dripping slit. My body was trying to move with you, but you had one arm pinning down my hips as you lapped at my clit and slid a finger inside me. I was so worked up from all your teasing that I was on the brink in moments, moaning continuously, loudly. “That’s right baby,” you growled, and I could feel the vibration of your voice in your lips, wrapped around my clit. “Get loud for Daddy. Let everyone hear you,” You pulled my swollen clit into your mouth and sucked gently, and I shouted “Oh, Daddy!” before spiraling out, bucking my hips and clutching your hair. Your mouth continued your ministrations, but slowly and lightly, easing me down from my climax, and as I began to float back down to earth, I could feel your tongue move down to dart into my still pulsing hole, licking up the juices that were flowing out of me. Before I could get too self-conscious and wonder if I tasted bad, you moved up my body and kissed me on the lips, sliding your tongue into my mouth, letting me taste myself. It was hot and sweet, like desire, and I moved my tongue eagerly against yours, loving the way we tasted together. “See how good you taste, baby?” you said, breaking our kiss. “See how delicious you are?” I kissed your neck, and then said, “Daddy?” “Yes, Baby?” “Why do you still have all your clothes on?” You laughed and then said, “Fair enough,” and began to unbutton your shirt, but I stopped you. “Please, Daddy, may I undress you?” You looked surprised but pleased. “Of course, sweetheart,” you said. I fumbled a bit with the buttons of your shirt but finally got them undone and then pulled your shirt off, eager to explore all this newly exposed skin. I leaned in and pressed soft kisses to your neck, to your chest, right above your beating heart before hesitantly flicking my tongue across your nipple. Did men like that, too? I wasn’t sure. Judging from your closed eyes and clenched jaw, I thought maybe you did. I licked at your nipple again and then sucked it between my lips. I felt the fingers of one hand come up to weave themselves in my hair, and I smiled inwardly. Victory. I moved across your chest to your other nipple and bit it gently and was rewarded with a growl that I could feel as well as hear rumble in your chest. I kissed and licked down your stomach, down to the waistline of your pants, and then looked up at you as I undid your belt buckle and slid it slowly from the loops of your pants. I stroked your hardness through the fabric of your pants and leaned down to nuzzle my face against you before unbuttoning and unzipping them. “Stand up, please,” I said, and you smiled. “Of course, baby. So polite,” you said, standing at the side of the bed as requested. I came to stand next to you and pulled your pants down, and you stepped out of them, clad only in your boxers now, your cock hard and straining against the fabric. I knelt in front of you and kissed you through the fabric, just as you had done for me, and was pleased to hear your sharp intake of breath. I snaked my tongue into the front opening of your underwear and swiped it against your skin, and you growled. “Careful, little girl,” you warned through clenched teeth. Feeling emboldened by your response to me, I carefully took the waistband of your boxers between my teeth and dragged them down your legs, my eyes widening as your massive cock sprang free, hard and proud, just inches from my face. “You dirty little girl,” you said appreciatively, stepping out of the boxers now pooled at your feet. I was wide eyed, looking at the glorious and formidable sight of you naked before me. I hesitated a moment, and you smiled reassuringly at me. “You’re in charge, baby girl,” you said. “Where do you want me.” “In my mouth,” I breathed without thinking, and then blushed because I realized that was not what you meant. You laughed loudly. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” you said, still laughing. “Want me to lie on the bed?” “Yes please,” I said, hands covering my face. I took a moment to compose myself and recover my sexual mojo as you positioned yourself on the bed, on your back, your cock standing straight up, big and hard and proud. You looked mouthwatering. I climbed up onto the bed next to you and reached out to stroke the length of you with one finger. A bead of pre-cum formed right at the tip of your cock, and I reached out to lap it up with my tongue. “Oh, fuck, baby,” you breathed as I tasted you. “Mmmm,” I said, eager for more of your taste. I wrapped my lips around the head of your cock and sucked gently before beginning to slide my mouth up and down your length, taking in a little more of you with each pass. I could feel your hands in my hair, see your head thrown back, hear your low moans. All of that just served to make me more eager to bring you some of the beautiful pleasure you had just given to me. I swirled my tongue around you and moaned as you gave a small thrust of your hips, pushing you deeper into my mouth. “Oh, Baby, yes,” you growled. I slid my mouth from your cock, now slippery from being in my mouth, and began to stroke it. I moved lower lapping at your balls, sucking one gently into my mouth while my other hand moved to gather some wetness from my still leaking pussy. I pressed a now wet finger gently against your ass. I looked up at you, not sure if you wanted this. “Yes, baby,” you said, and I had never been so thankful that you were a mind reader. I continued to slide my tongue against your balls and suck them into my mouth one at a time while I stroked your cock and pushed the tip of one finger into you. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, your hands gripping my hair almost too tightly as I finally eased my finger all the way into you. I found a rhythm, sucking, stroking, and fucking, all three happening in tandem, and in moments you were growling and moaning. “Baby,” you panted, “Daddy can’t last much longer. Do you want Daddy to cum like this?” I nodded as best I could with my mouth full of your tender skin, and that was all the permission you needed. You stiffened and began to shoot pulse after pulse of hot, sticky cum all over your belly and chest. I moaned at the sexy vision you made, lying before me, eyes closed, and covered in cum, and the vibration of my mouth around your throbbing balls made you shudder once again. I slowed my movements as your spams began to cease, and then moved up to your body to lap up the sticky puddles from your stomach and chest. “Baby. Sweetheart. Darling.” You were stroking my hair, watching me lick up your love. “Yes, Daddy?” “I love you with everything that I am.” I glowed at your words. “I love you, too, Daddy.” After your skin was licked clean, you held out your arms to me, and I settled into them gratefully. “That was….I don’t have words for what that was,” I said. “I have some words,” you said, “but I’ll refrain from saying them in the presence of a lady.” I giggled. In the moment of quiet that followed, my stomach gave a mighty rumble, and we both burst out laughing. “I guess woman cannot live on cum alone,” you said, playfully swatting my backside. “We never did finish our dinner. What do you think, want some spaghetti?” “Yes, Daddy,” I said, smiling. “And I want more Lady and the Tramp spaghetti kisses!” You laughed. “Of course,” you said, dropping a kiss to the tip of my nose before you stood and retrieved your shirt from the floor and slipped it on me, doing up the buttons and smiling at your handiwork. “Looks better on you, anyway,” you said, winking, and I smiled. I reached for my panties from the bedside table, but you grabbed my wrist. “Nope,” you said. “Those are mine now, remember? You won’t need any panties for the rest of the night. Maybe for the rest of your life.” I giggled and flushed in pleasure, and you slipped on your pants, sans underwear. “Just think, sweetheart. We haven’t even had sex yet.” I opened and closed my mouth, dumbfounded, and reflected upon the events of the evening. First we had…and then we….after that was….wait a minute….I guess we really hadn’t had sex yet! You laughed loudly at my mental gymnastics and then leaned in close to whisper, “Don’t worry, Baby. The night is young.” The first hints of fall are in the air on the day of our first date. The change in season is nearly imperceptible to the unobservant, but not to me. Fall is my favorite season, so I always await the cooler temperatures and hint of color in the trees. This late September evening is beautiful. While the day was almost uncomfortably warm, the evening has cooled off considerably. I spent forever going through my closet trying to pick something just right for our date. The purple floral dress is a bit more revealing than I’m used to—the hemline just above my knees, the neckline revealing a bit of cleavage. The knee-high brown boots and denim jacket I put on along with it, however, keep it from being too revealing, and I feel pretty and confident.
I’m ready to go when the doorbell rings. I open the door, and you greet me with a big smile, looking handsome in jeans and a button up shirt. We laugh and talk in the car, both a little bit nervous, but in the best way. Sometimes in a moment of quiet you sing along with the radio, and I am mesmerized by your sexy voice. Where we were going was not a surprise, but I still feel a wave of excitement rush through me when I catch my first glimpse of lights in the evening sky. The County Fair might not be every girl’s idea of a romantic date, but in my eyes it’s perfect: not too fancy or stuffy, but fun and lighthearted. We park, get our tickets, and make our way inside. The Friday night crowd is just beginning to form, but that’s all part of the charm of the attraction. You take my hand in yours, and I smile up at you, butterflies in my stomach, as you ask me where I’d like to go first. I say I want to see the animals, so you lead me through the livestock pens just as the animals are being put to bed for the night. The sweet, sleepy faces of the lambs and calves are adorable. Then we go to the petting zoo, and I squeal in delight when I see a zebra. A real, live zebra! “I’ve never touched a zebra, before!” I exclaim, and you laugh at my exuberance. We ask a woman standing nearby to take our picture with the zebra, my arms thrown around its neck. When the woman hands me back my phone, I check to make sure the picture came out okay. There I am in the picture, with a larger than life smile that shows all my teeth. Bless its heart, the zebra looks only mildly perturbed by my affection. But my eyes linger on your face. You weren’t looking at the camera or at the zebra: you were looking at me. The softness in your gaze makes me catch my breath, but as I put my phone in my pocket and glance your way, your face is neutral, unreadable. Perhaps I’d just imagined the tender way you looked at me in the picture…. I decide not to stress about it (it’s only our first date, after all), and suddenly I spot a wallaby hopping in a corner of the petting zoo. “A wallaby!” I shriek in a voice that can only be heard by dogs, and you laugh as I dart toward him, hoping to feel his soft fur. The poor little guy is a pro at dodging people, it seems, and he is always one step ahead of me. “I can’t get him!” I exclaim, poking out my lower lip in a pout. “Do you really want to pet him that bad, Baby?” you ask, and my stomach gives a little flutter when you use your pet name for me. I nod, still pouting, and you look at me a moment before affectionately rolling your eyes and saying, “Oh, all right.” Faster than I’ve ever seen you move before, you sprint to the corner where the wallaby is crouching, and you nearly have him, but he is quick, so you just miss him. Not discouraged, you take off after him, running in a crouch, your arms outstretched, and I let out a peal of laughter. A few heads turn your way and within seconds the exotic animals in the petting zoo are no longer the main attraction. Instead, the epic battle between you and the Wallaby has taken center stage. People move to the perimeter of the pen to make room for the two of you as you leap at him and he evades you. You’re so tall, and he’s so small, and I am laughing uncontrollably at your antics. Finally, you anticipate his feint to the left and manage to snatch him. “Look, Baby, I got him for you!” you say proudly, “My hero!” I exclaim and hurry over to stroke his back. He is squirming in your grasp, and I take pity on the poor guy. “Thank you, sweetheart” I say, leaning in to kiss your cheek, and I pause just a moment to breathe in your smell before I pull back and put my hand on your arm to indicate that you should let him go. He leaps out of your arms and bounds away, glaring at us from across the pen, and I chuckle at the angry expression on his sweet little face. I spot a sign that says for $3 we can get a paper cup of food to give the animals, and I turn to you. “Can we?” I ask and you nod and walk over to pay. When you come back with a cup full of pellets, I look around trying to decide which animals I want to feed first. I toss a few pellets to a small chicken that struts past and laugh as he pecks at them on the ground. I give a palmful to a sheep and then a pig and a goat. In the very back of the pen, fenced off in his own area, looking just as forlorn as Eeyore, I spy a donkey. A handwritten note hanging from a post of the pen says, “DO NOT FEED THE DONKEY!” “Look at him,” I say, nudging you and pointing at the donkey. “Why can’t we feed him?” “Hmm…,” you say, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know. He’s kinda chunky…” “He is not!” I exclaim, playfully swatting your shoulder. “He’s just big boned.” You laugh and we walk over to the donkey. “It doesn’t say we can’t pet him,” I say, patting his back, and he looks dolefully at the cup of pellets in my hand. “Sorry, buddy,” I say, leaning my head against his shoulder and sighing. “Maybe no one will notice,” I mutter, and try to covertly sneak him a palmful of pellets. You wink at me and turn your back to provide cover so I can give our new friend a snack. The donkey’s eyes bulge as he sees my hand make its way to him, and he eagerly slurps the food from it. I giggle at the feel of his bristly lips and slimy tongue against my skin. “Hey!” shouts a voice to the left of us, “You are not supposed to feed the donkey!” The man selling cups of food is scowling in our direction and pointing to the sign on the gate. I can feel my cheeks turning red as I stutter, “Of course. I’m…umm…I’m sorry, we’ll just…” I toss the rest of the food on the ground and throw the cup in the trash before scurrying to the exit. I can hear the squeals and squawks behind us as the animals descend upon the feed in an every-critter-for-himself free for all. Once we’re safely out of the petting zoo, I turn to see you behind me shaking with silent laughter, and I cross my arms across my chest and glare at you. “Are you laughing at me?” I demand, one hip jutted out, my cheeks still burning. “Yep,” you say, laughing harder. I turn my back on you, and you come up behind me. I can feel the warmth of your body against my back and the heat of your breath against my neck when you speak. “Oh, come on Baby,” you say softly in my ear. “You can’t be a rule breaker if you’re that afraid of getting in trouble.” I can feel my anger slipping away at the feel of your nearness. “You do the crime, you gotta be prepared to do the time. You knew you weren’t supposed to feed that donkey. So, what do you think your punishment should be?” My breathing quickens and I seem to liquefy, sagging against your chest. “Uhhh….” I mumble incoherently. “I think,” you say, so close now that I can feel your lips against the shell of my ear as you speak, “that you need to be spanked, little girl.” My heart stutters in my chest, and I am speechless with desire. Suddenly you step around me, grab my hand, and say, “Let’s go get some food!” shattering the little bubble of intimacy just as quickly as you had woven it around us. You wink at me and tug me forward, so I laugh and go along with you, caught up in the magic of you. The smell of fried goodness is everywhere, and you ask what I want to eat. “Cotton candy!” I say, and you laugh. “I kind of thought we’d eat something for dinner first,” you say. “Oh, right,” I say blushing, and you laugh. “Corn dog?” I ask, and you nod and we walk over to get in line. You order us two corn dogs and get a few napkins before pulling me over to a picnic table where we sit and wait for our order to be called. “Okay. I have a big question for you,” you say looking deeply into my eyes, and I can’t imagine what you’re about to ask me. “Ketchup or mustard?” you ask, stone-faced, and I laugh incredulously. “Both” I answer, and you raise one eyebrow at me. “Both?” I nod in response. “Gross!” you say sticking our your tongue, and I laugh again. “Variety is the spice of life,” I say smugly, and you scoff. “What would your answer be?” I ask, and you say, “I’m a mustard man, personally.” “To each his own.” I say, nodding. We hear our order called and you walk over to pick up our dinner and bring back a little paper cup filled with mustard for yourself and two cups, one filled with ketchup and one filled with mustard, for me. You hand me my plate and sit down across from me, dunking your corn dog in mustard and eying me to see what my plan of attack will be with the two condiments. I dip my dog in the mustard first and then in the ketchup. “Both at the same time?!” you ask sounding horrified. “Yep,” I say opening my mouth wide and taking a huge bite of my concoction. I notice your eyes darken as I put the corn dog in my mouth and realize the incredibly phallic nature of what we’re eating. I blush and avert my eyes as I chew, surprised by the rush of desire that shoots through me at the thought of other things in my mouth… Ever a gentleman, you say nothing of our rather intimate moment and quickly change the subject. “What would you like to do after we eat?” you ask, and I think for a moment before I finally decide on games. We talk easily and laugh a lot as we finish our food and then make our way to the area where the games are. “What’s your best game?” you ask, and I walk over to the dime toss. “Really?” you ask, laughing and I nod. “I won my mother a great many ash trays from this game back when I was a kid,” I reply and you stand back, arms spread wide. “Let’s see whatcha got!” you say. “What do you want?” I ask, and you point to an upside down wine glass on the corner of the display table. I close one eye, stick the tip of my tongue between my teeth, and flick the dime onto the table, just missing the intended target. I fish another dime from my purse and move a bit to the left before trying again. This time the dime lands neatly in the center of the bottom of the glass. “Woohoo!” I exclaim, arms raised in victory as the carney brushes the dime off and hands me the glass. “I’m impressed!” you say, clapping as I proudly present you with your prize. “I have good aim,” I say shrugging. “Well since you won me a prize, it’s only fair that I win one for you, right?” you ask. I nod excitedly. “Don’t tell me,” you say, “let me guess….you want…..that one,” you say, pointing to a massive stuffed, bright pink pig atop the darts stand. “Oooooo, he’s adorable!” I say, all heart eyes. “Then let’s see if we can get him for you,” you say, and we walk over to the stand. “Five darts for three bucks, you get one in the middle of the target, you win yourself a great big prize!” the carney chants in a bored voice. He’s been giving the same spiel all evening long, so I can’t blame him for his lack of enthusiasm. You pay for some darts and manage to get close to the center of the target but not quite a bull’s eye. “You can pick any prize from this row,” the carney says pointing to the second largest prizes. I’m mentally deciding between the frog and the monkey when you shake your head and slap some more money down on the table. “Again,” you say. But alas, once the darts are all thrown, we are once again just shy of the big prize. “It’s okay,” I say smiling. “Look at that cute monkey up there! Let’s get him.” “No way, Baby,” you say, and I can tell from the set of your jaw that you are utterly determined. “Okay,” I say, hands up in surrender, as I move back to give you space to throw your next round of darts. It takes 5 rounds all together, but finally, you land a dart in the little red bull’s eye and roar in victory, startling the carney from his bored stupor and prompting him to reach up to the top tier of prizes for the coveted pink pig. Before he can hand it to you, though, you rush to me and snatch me up, literally sweeping me off my feet. I squeal, partly in surprise and partly in laughter, as you twirl me around. Finally, you place me gently back on my feet and take the pig from the carney who is now rolling his eyes at our outrageous display. “Thank you, good sir,” you say to him, with a mock tip of your hat, before proudly thrusting the gigantic pig in my arms. “Have I pleased you, milady?” “You have my never-ending gratitude,” I giggle. “What will you name your new friend?” you ask, and I ponder that for a moment. “Hmm……he looks like a Harold to me.” “Indeed he does,” you agree. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Harold” you say, taking ahold of his corkscrew tail and giving it a shake. I take the arm you offer so we can make our way to the next attraction: rides. “I don’t like scary rides,” I confess as we decide which rides we’d like to brave. “No kidding?” you say, and I can tell you’re making fun of me. “Laugh if you must, but I find the world plenty scary without adding in traveling upside down at terrifying speeds.” “Okay, no speeding upside down. Got it.” I laugh and say, “How about the bumper cars?” “Nah,” you say, “I have a better idea. Let’s go on the ferris wheel.” I eye the gigantic wheel warily. “It’s sooooo big. Think how high up we’ll be when we’re at the top….” Seeing that I need a little bit of coaxing, you put your arms around me and say softly in my ear, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Baby. And besides, think how much closer we’ll be to the stars.” “Well…..” I say, still hesitant. “Okay,” I finally relent, “but only if Harold can come with us.” You laugh and kiss the top of my head before breaking our embrace to take my hand as we make our way over to the line for the ferris wheel. Soon it’s our turn to get on the ride, and the little cart we get into feels rickety. My eyes widen as it trembles when we take our seats, but you smile reassuringly at me. I make sure Harold is buckled in securely right in the middle and try not to feel too nervous. We’re the last couple to get onto the ride before it jerks to a start, and I gasp and squeeze your hand tightly. “It’s okay, Baby,” you say again, and the timbre of your voice and the touch of your hand calm me, as they always do. We watch in silence as the fair attractions grow smaller beneath us while the cart ascends. The lights sparkle beneath us, the moon glows above us, a breeze ruffles my hair, and I can’t imagine anything more perfect than this moment. I tear my eyes away from the beautiful scene to look over at you only to find that you are looking at me. Had I thought that the lights of the fair in the night sky were beautiful? They paled in comparison to the twinkle in your eyes. “James,” I murmer. You give a small shake of your head. “Sweetheart?” I try again, and you give a small smile. “Closer,” you say. My eyes flicker between the intensity of your gaze and your lips. “Daddy” I whimper, and you say “Good girl” before you lower your head to capture my lips with your own. It is our very first kiss, but it also feels like it is the very first kiss of all time. Surely no one before us has known this feeling of closeness and connection. Surely no one before us felt this warmth and desire. We are, we must be, the first and only people to have experienced this beautiful, magical love. I wrap my arms around your neck, and you scoot in closer to me as our kiss deepens. “Oink” We break apart, startled, and look down at Harold, smooshed in between us. “Oink” he says again. “I didn’t know he oinks when you squeeze him!” I exclaim, and then we both laugh. I push Harold’s belly and he oinks obediently. “Thanks a lot for ruining the moment, Harold,” you scold him playfully, and I laugh again. “It’s not ruined,” I say, smiling. “It was perfect.” “Yeah?” you ask, looking at me intently. I nod, blushing under your gaze and you smile and kiss my cheek. “Baby?” you ask? “Yes?” I answer, my eyes back out on the skyline as we have made our way to the top of the wheel once again. “Would you like to eat my corn dog after this?” “Daddy!” I exclaim, swatting your shoulder, and your laughter rings out across the night sky. It is the best date ever. |
An ongoing DDLG saga |