Page 73 of Daddy's Dirty Boss


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“I… I sent you the picture…” she said. “It hurt… but I liked it… I liked doing it for you…”

My dick was throbbing in my fucking pants but I kept on walking, my pace damn fast as I turned the corner at the bottom of her estate.

“And how does that tight little slit feel now?”

She couldn’t have disguised the pant if she tried. It was obvious. Delicious.

One filthy little girl desperate to push her own limits.

“It’s sore…” she whispered.

“Good,” I said. “I want you to push those fingers in again for me.”

“Fuck,” she breathed, and my dick pulsed.

“Do it,” I told her. “I want to hear what a bad little girl you are.”

And she did.

That bad little girl knew how to be a good little girl and follow her instructions.

She pushed those fingers right back in, even though it hurt, and she struggled with her whimpers, with her moans, with her shudders.

I fucking struggled with everything. Heading back through lamplit streets, fighting the urge to pull my dick free and jerk one off in front of a row of terraced houses with the curtained windows still burning bright.

“You’re going to keep those fingers in that pussy until I get in through my front door,” I said. “And then you’re going to come for me, and I’m going to come for you.”

She moaned a yes, and I told her to put her phone down between her legs, where I could hear her fingers doing the fucking.

It was a delightful sound over the line. One that made my mouth water for a fucking taste.

Luckily, the time was coming. Just one more night until the girl would be my sweet little gift to unwrap.

“Could you hear that?” she asked when the handset was back up to her ear.

My groan said it all, and she let out one of her own, both of us aching to get hands on. Both of us brimming with frustration that we couldn’t.

But this is how it worked. Always so highly strung when the forbidden kept the magnets screaming for contact.

This was foreplay of the most teasing kind. Words but not touch. Temptation with no expression.

“Are you still working those dainty little fingers?” I said, and she gave me another whimper of yes.

I was almost back at mine by now, my cock aching and mouth fucking slavering, and she was on the edge, working that horny clit of hers into a frenzy.

I could feel it. Sense it.

Need it.

I was a charging brute up my driveway and wrenching my house keys from my pocket. I unlocked my door and shoved my way on in, throwing my coat off and kicking my shoes away, and practically tearing my trousers down from my hips.

“Now you’ll fucking come for me,” I told her. “Work those fingers and fucking come for me.”

She didn’t need telling twice.

“I can’t stop,” she groaned. “I can’t stop, I’ve been holding it back too long. I need to! I need to!”

“Good girl,” I said. “Let yourself fucking go.”

And so did I.

I let myself fucking go.

My fist was so tight around the head of my cock, working it in a frenzy as the gasps of that beautiful girl came out so loud through that handset.

We were both forces unleashed. Flow without restraint. Both of us bashing like tides across the ether, begging the unspoken for more.

I imagine that’s one of the first times it truly hit me. Just how much I needed that girl.

How much I was transfixed by that girl. How much I was consumed by the sparkle of life that girl brought into my world.

Letting her go and watching her leave for university and a whole new world was going to be one of the hardest things I’d ever attempted.

I wasn’t even sure I would manage it. Not anymore.

My words lost meaning, so I didn’t attempt them. I just kept working my cock with groans and grunts, and her frantic little whimpers crashed back at me.

We were recovering, cresting the wave and coming down, but still it was raw. So fucking raw.

Until it happened. The inevitable.

The sorry shit hole of events that were always brewing.

“Oh crap,” she whispered, and she was scared. Really fucking scared.

“What is it?” I asked, whispering myself on instinct, but I already knew. Another round of instinct for the claiming.

“There’s someone out there,” she hissed so quiet. “Someone was out there on the landing. They must have heard me! Oh shit, Miles, they must have heard me!”

My heart was racing as fast as hers must have been, feeling every bit the sinner as I pictured her parents out there, listening to me making their daughter come for me.

The little girl they’d trusted me with for a lifetime.

“I need to go to sleep,” she said. “Shit, Miles, I need to turn my lamp off and pretend this never happened.”

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