“Such a good girl,” he praises as he rubs my tender skin. “I’m going to spank you harder now, Little love. Let it feel good. Don’t fight it.”
His words make no sense to me. And yet, they do. It does feel good. It’s oddly cathartic. I find myself relaxing deeply against his thighs as I focus on the rhythmic slap of his palm against my skin.
The next several swats are harder, like he said they would be, causing my bottom to burn. The sensation is oddly satisfying. It hurts, but I think I like it.
Daddy’s hand moves around with every slap, sometimes hitting the backs of my thighs, alternating between cheeks. The vibrations resonate throughout my body, and as I relax into the strange sensations, I find my pussy clenching.
I want to draw my legs together and put pressure on my clit, but he instructed me not to. Now I know why. I’m aroused. Almost as aroused as I was when he ate my pussy earlier.
Daddy swats me harder and harder, focusing on my bottom. Every time he hits the spot where my butt cheeks meet my thighs, I feel it in my pussy. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was actually swatting my labia or my clit.
I’m panting, unable to control my lust. Eventually, I lift my head and moan. “Daddy…” My legs are shaking; my vision is swimming. My pussy is so needy I might come.
Suddenly he stops. For a moment, he squeezes both my cheeks, and then his hand is gone, and a second later, he thrusts a finger into my channel.
I cry out at the sudden, unexpected intrusion.
My pussy grips his finger so hard.
And then I come.
“Daddy!” I scream as my orgasm consumes me.
He continues to hold me down with the hand at the small of my back, not releasing my wrists. With his other hand, hepumps his finger in and out of my pussy, causing my orgasm to continue. It doesn’t stop. Or maybe one orgasm turns into two.
I have so little experience with sex that I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be like this. I think people come and then that’s it. Maybe they can come again later, but this is more like a series of progressively more intense orgasms on top of each other.
Daddy rubs my clit, driving me out of my mind. And his hand is so large that he’s able to slide his thumb back to my forbidden hole and press against the puckered skin. I’m so wet that his thumb is soaked with my juices.
I squirm, fighting against him. “Daddy…” I whine.
“Don’t fight me, Little love. Let it feel good. Daddy will touch every part of you, including your bottom.” He emphasizes his words by pushing his thumb into my tight rectum.
I’m overwhelmed with sensations. It feels like I’m spinning, floating out of my body and swirling around like I’m stuck in a cyclone. If he weren’t holding me down, I would fly away.
“Come again, Brea. I want to feel your bottom contract on my thumb at the same time as your pussy.”
At his demand, I peak again, another wave of release consuming me. It’s too much sensation. I’m overwhelmed. My bottom grips his thumb rhythmically with my pussy, the pulses sending waves of pleasure through my entire body.
Finally Daddy eases his hand out from between my legs.
I lie limp over his thighs, panting, unable to move even when he releases my wrists. I simply let my hands fall to my sides by my hips and continue trying to catch my breath.
Daddy leans to one side. I think he’s reaching for something. I turn my head when I hear the slight pop of a container opening. He pulls out a wipe and cleans his fingers.
Something has changed between us. He may have claimed me with his teeth when he bit me yesterday, but today he hasclaimed me with his fingers and hands. Earlier he claimed me with his mouth on my pussy.
I’m melting into him. I never want to move off his lap. I could stay here forever and be perfectly content.
I whimper when he eventually lifts me by the hips. He turns me in his arms and settles me sideways on his lap. His lips come to my temple. “Such a good girl.” He rocks me gently, holding me tightly against his bare chest. The man hasn’t worn a shirt since I met him. I wonder if he evenownsshirts.
My mind is wandering to odd thoughts like that. Self-preservation, I think. I’m unable to fully process the weird bond between us, so my brain is occupying it with random thoughts like his lack of shirt, the way he smells like outdoors and his soap, the feel of his palm on my hip, and the fact that every inhale draws more of him into me as if we’re not even two beings anymore.
We’re one.
It’s scary. I don’t know how to deal with any of this, but I don’t have to. Not now. All I have to do is sit here and let him hold me while I slowly float back down to Earth.
Chapter Ten
