Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Fucking hell, Holly,” he says.
“Clean me, Daddy,” I tell him, clenching around his fist.
He turns his fist slowly, gently.
“Faster, Daddy. I love it when you go fast.”
He looks doubtful but picks up the pace a little.
“More, Daddy. I promise you won’t hurt me.”
With my hands gripping the tub either side of me, I fuck his fist, and that’s enough to spur him on.
“Yes, Daddy! Yes!”
He powers his outstretched hand in and out of me like a demon, and it creates enough pressure that I have to piss myself, letting the stream squirt around his wrist and flow down the plughole with no restraint.
“Jesus,” he says as my pussy squelches with every thrust.
“Don’t stop, Daddy…”
“Don’t you fucking worry about that, princess.”
He makes me come from the inside. Hard. Deep. Screaming for fucking real as he power slams my cunt like a dirty daddy on a fucking mission.
I’m still coming when he loses his own shit, and tells me it’s time for my ass. But this one will be dirtier. This one needs a particular kind of digging, he says, and stands up to unbutton his trousers, the flannel still hanging limp from my pussy.
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but watching him strip naked, his cock a vicious beast as he climbs into the bathtub to join me, has my happy heart racing.
“On all fours,” he says and turns the shower back on. “Spread those gorgeous ass cheeks, sweetheart. Show Daddy that dirty hole.”
Ah, ok. I get it now.
My cheek is on the bottom of the tub as I spread myself for him. He slowly pulls the flannel from my cunt and I moan at how good it feels.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
I glance behind as he drops to his knees, my pussy fluttering when I see the flannel wrapped round his cock.
Daddy’s going to flannel plough me with his horny cock. It’s a delight that sends me delirious.
“Spread those cheeks for me, sweetheart,” he says.
I grip my cheeks and spread them, making sure to wink at Daddy.
“Fuck,” he says, and with one hand on my lower back, he stretches my asshole and shoves inside in one long thrust.
I grunt and I groan as my knees slip and slide against the wet tub of the bath as he uses his weight against me. We’re a sliding, pumping duo caught up in filthy games as he thrusts in right to the balls over and over again. The slapping of flesh is heightened by the shower. Water sprays down from above, in such contrast that it makes it all the more intense.
“I’m making you clean,” he says. “Fucking hell, Holly, this flannel is so fucking dirty. You’ve got such a tight, filthy ass, sweetheart. So fucking tight.”
“Keep going, Daddy! Clean me up!”
My words spur him on. My actions coax him faster. I beg in silence, a spluttering wreck having my ass pounded by my horny daddy. I have to spit and gurgle, shower water splashing around my face when Daddy reaches the crest and comes inside me, still sheathed by that soaking wet flannel. It’s bliss when he pulls out, and holds it up for me to see.
I may have done a decent anal douche before I set off today, but he wasn’t messing about with the cleaning. He’s pounded mighty fucking deep, and flannels don’t lie. But who cares?
Not me.
I have no barriers or embarrassment.
I spin onto my back, grinning up at him as he soaps his cock clean and turns off the shower.
“All done now, sweetheart. I’m so very proud of you.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I say, feeling so damn proud.
He towels me dry as his priority, despite the fact he’s still dripping himself. I try to return the favour, but he won’t have any of it, tapping me on the nose as he tells me I’m the one who needs looking after. I’m wrapped up warm when we brush our teeth in tandem, and there’s a light energy between us. Playful.
Yeah, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him.
He uses a hairdryer on my hair downstairs in the kitchen while I sip on warm milk, and yet again my mind wanders. Who is this man? Will I ever know?
Would I really even want to?
Reality could cut the fantasy into shreds.
I squeeze his hand when we’re done, and he leads me upstairs. It’s the same route as usual, across the landing to the guest room. It’s changed in here, though. The furniture is different. A whole new suite of white. The new bed has a white metal frame, with crystals on the bedposts, and white linen sheets with a swirling pattern of pink over the duvet cover.
Very cute.
It’s the very opposite of the wacko gothic boudoir setup I have at home.
Daddy takes a girly pink nightdress from a chest of drawers, and nods in approval when he helps me into it.