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That made me smile. “You deserve whatever I can do for you.”
Grabbing my waist in his hands, Peter squeezed me tight and pushed his cock deep again, so close to all the way. I let out another squeal. He drew back and thrust in.
I watched his face, eyes half-open, lost in bliss for what seemed like a wonderful eternity. Each time he pulled back, he left a void inside that ached for his return, and when he did, moments after, shove back in, a flood of energy followed him inside me. Finally, there was no pain left; only aching, longing, wonderful pleasure.
Peter started to say something, but then his breath caught in his chest and he had to get control of himself again. He stopped moving entirely and let his pulse decrease a little before swallowing hard and ramming his cock deep again. Once it was all the way in, my whole body filled with my daddy’s dick, he stayed motionless.
“Baby girl, I’m sorry, but I,” he breathed again, pulled back and slammed in again, “I’m not gonna last much longer, you just feel so good.”
“You’re not,” I gasped, “you’re not the only one.”
Letting my legs drop off his shoulders and putting them around his waist I tried to lock my ankles together, but couldn’t quite do it. Still, he seemed to get the idea.
One hard, brutally deep fuck-stroke after another drove inside my sweetly sore asshole, and Peter’s head rolled back and forth on his shoulders. He squeezed my waist so hard, so desperately, that I already felt the bruises.
His mouth hung open, and he stared directly at my eyes as he pumped his hips back and forth like a machine. I tried again to lock my ankles behind his back, but it was no good, and besides, by that time, I was so raw and so close to climax that if I squeezed anything, I was afraid I would explode.
He took a deep breath and held it. I saw the cords stand up in his neck, he clenched his jaw. He shoved in once more and held his cock deep inside me. I felt his balls pull up against his shaft and he hunched forward, holding himself up with fists on either side of my head.
I watched him as I sucked in a breath that hissed over my teeth. His eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttered. And then, just as his cock swelled up inside me, once again stretching my asshole around him, and I felt the very first trickle of warmth from his cock, I involuntarily cupped my hand around my mound, shoved three fingers deep, grinded my palm against my clit, and started to moan sounds I had never heard before.
My pussy gripped my fingers and my pucker started milking my Peter’s twitching rod. I felt it jump inside me, twitch once or twice, and then he groaned as a hot, sticky eruption filled me up.
Every muscle in my body seemed to seize up and once, and squeeze. So tight, my whole body felt so tight that I couldn’t move, even if I wanted.
For a half-second that felt like a whole lifetime, the world stopped moving. My entire being clenched around my daddy’s spurting cock. The first drop of cum slid out of me and onto the sheets. He groaned again, louder than before, and rammed hard inside me, pushing a wonderfully
hot mess out of me.
The sensations in my pussy quickly became too much. I had to stop. I just had to stop. As I writhed and unsuccessfully tried to squelch my moaning screams, I reached down as far as I could, collected a finger full of cum, and shoved it up, back around his dick, and inside my cunt. I didn’t want to lose any, didn’t want to lose a drop.
He pumped again, and started to pull out of me, his cock red, twitching and exhausted. I caught a little more and slid it up inside my pussy, and just when my fingers brushed against my sex, I lost all control. The tension build up between my legs, that gripped my belly and crept up my chest, all burst at once. Torrents of white energy, heat, and raw sex flooded my mind, and my body relaxed, completely, into a convulsing release.
***
Peter emerged moments later from the bathroom with a pair of what seemed to be steaming-hot towels in one hand, and my robe in the other.
“Let me see that leg,” he said, and took my ankle in his hand, gently lifting it into the air. He slid the towel all the way down in one slow motion. Over my cleft, then back up the other side it went. He finished with a soft massage on the bottoms of both feet.
“Does that feel good, baby girl?”
All I could do was moan and chew my lip.
Tossing the one towel aside, he used the other one to cleanse my belly, chest and neck before I grabbed his hands and nuzzled my face into the soft warmth.
I crawled back up the bed and he yanked the sweat-and-sex soaked comforter off. After rooting around in the linen cubby under the bed for a minute, he reappeared and swooshed another one, goose down this time, over me like a stage magician with one of those red capes. I had to giggle at that one.
He nestled in beside me, an arm under my head, and started to whisper sweet little nothings to me, but I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I was already dozing off and before long, completely knocked out.
The one thing I remember him saying before I was totally out was something that swam through my dreams that night.
“Daddy’s little girl,” echoed through my mind.
My dreams were of soft things, that night. Not of anxious things, or nervous things.
All night I drifted from cloud to cloud – soft, pink and fluffy, it seemed like everything was. There were no people in my dream that night, just softness and an overwhelming sense of safety. Security.
Soft, safe, and comfortable.
