Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
I never imagined being a father, but once Winona entered this world, pride and protectiveness swelled in my chest. She wasn’t mine by blood, but she lit something in the darkness inside of me that would never be extinguished.
I have enough memories of my own shitty childhood to know what not to do as a stand-in parental figure. But I’m also smart enough to know that there’s a good portion of instinct involved in being a parent as well.
I seem to have a shit ton of instinct when it comes to her, that’s for fucking sure.
That all surely makes me more of a monster now, as I stand half-hidden, squeezing the root of my dick as my balls twitch, my erection throbbing evidence of the forbidden fantasies that will no longer be denied.
My cock is dripping like a goddamn leaky faucet, but it’s not enough. As her soft breathing whispers through the massive speakers, golden light shimmers on the walls from the brass sconces I bought on a work trip to Seattle, rescuing them from a nineteen forties art deco theater they were tearing down.
I raise my hand toward my mouth, palm up, and release a generous glob of warm spit. Then I return to pulling at my cock, hard and fast, as she plants her feet and puts both hands on the microphone, doing her best Taylor Swift impression.
God, she looks so confident up there. So fucking beautiful, it nearly stops my fucking heart.
“Are you coming?” she chirps, squinting into the darkness, and the words are enough to put me over the fucking edge.
“Yes...” I grit out, my erection so thick my fingertips barely overlap as I imagine Winona, the girl who considers me her father for all intents and purposes, straddling me, tits in my face, as I bounce her up and down.
You want to bounce like a big girl on Daddy’s dick, do you?
My balls cinch up, and I’m way beyond the point of no return in more ways than one.
The vision of her hands guiding her nipple to my mouth as her dripping pussy clenches around me doubles me over as my orgasm ties knots down my back.
I nearly crumple to my knees as I cum so fucking hard I feel it like a punch in the gut.
A thick spurt of release covers my hand, the sticky, heated cream dripping between my fingers before I tighten them together to keep it all from falling to the floor.
I’m still spurting as I pump up and down, wondering if opening the curtain and letting her see what she does to me would be the better move here.
“Well, hurry the heck up!” Winona’s voice rocks through me as the waves of pleasure ricochet around, until finally my vision returns as my brain comes back online, my left hand cupping the warmth of my ejaculate, the rest of it in drops and strings on the floor.
I make a mental note to grab the steam mop and do a clandestine clean-up later.
Blood pounds in my temples as I choke out an answer. “Just sending a couple messages, I’ll be right there.”
I glance at the stage and see her crinkle up her face in playful irritation as I try to catch my breath.
“Isn’t it the star who is supposed to keep you waiting, not the other way around?”
Fuck, if she only knew how she has kept me waiting.
I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t think these things.
She’s not my real daughter, though. That makes it better. Right?
“Daddy! Come on!”
As if she’s reading my thoughts, the words hit me like jagged blades to the heart as I stuff my cock in my jeans with one hand, my other still cupping some of my sticky release.
What am I supposed to fucking do with it?
I don’t have the brain power to figure that out right now. Clearly, I’m out of my mind as I break through the burgundy velvet and stalk down the little aisle with matching velvet theater-type seating on both sides.
There are a hundred and fifteen seats. Enough to make it feel like a real concert venue. I still remember the day I brought her to the house while it was still under construction and showed her the space that would be her own private stage.
The velvet seats were delivered but not installed, the matching curtains hanging from both sides of the stage, the wood floor raw and unfinished, the scent of sawdust in the air. She looked at me like I was fucking God. At that moment, I knew I would never be able to let her go.
My thoughts then weren’t like they are now, but she was mine. My daughter, in every way but the law.
“What are you going to sing?” I collapse into my usual seat in the front row, letting my knees spread wide to give my still-throbbing dick some space, as the evidence of my obsession stays cupped in the palm of my left hand, my fingers loosely curling around.