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“And now you’re going to feel it too.”
His big hand cocks back and before I know what’s happened his mitt comes down and lands firmly on my bottom, sending me lurching forward.
“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy!” I cry out.
“Oh, yes you will,” he says, kneading my ass like dough, but my lacy dress is too thick. He grabs the bottom, lifts it, and a gust of air tickles my backside over my panties.
He spanks me again, this time in a different place as he moans, kneading my asscheeks yet again, before growling, “I need more.”
He grabs the top of my panties and yanks them diagonally, the fabric tearing as my flesh is exposed. Immediately his hand leaves me and then comes right back down on my bare skin.
“Fuck, baby girl. No way I ever get enough of this, of you, of us. You’re mine now, you understand?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“And you will do
as Daddy says. Always.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he commends, his meaty fingers grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up off his lap, but my feet never touch the floor. Instead, I feel my back planted firmly against the wall, the My Little Pony poster behind my body tearing as I writhe in lust just before his lips come crashing down and claim mine.
My legs wrap around his big body as best as they can as I lean into his kiss, my hands gripping his face as I claim his mouth just as savagely as he claims mine, his tongue sweeping in and stealing my breath away.
His cock pressed into my stomach, probably crushed between us as our clothed bodies try to mold to each other.
His big frame keeps me pinned to the wall as his hips slowly pump against me like he’s dry humping me, something I’d expect of boys my age but not Dylan. And I won’t tolerate it either. He’s a man and that’s the experience I want, not that of a clumsy boy, not that he is in any way.
It’s just that he’s still battling himself I think, so I give him the permission he needs, the blessing to be my Daddy in all ways.
“I’m yours, Dylan, Daddy, take me. I’m drenched and ready for you. I need you inside me, taking my innocence and making me yours forever.”
“You’re ready for Daddy to pop that sweet cherry, little girl?”
“Yes,” I gap, causing his hips to thrust against me yet again.
“Tell me you’re not on the pill.”
“I’m not. Never tried it. Never even seen it.”
“Tell me you understand that I’m going to paint your womb like an original work of art from Jackson Pollock, covering it in my seed.”
“I want that.”
“Tell me you understand that you’re getting pregnant, tonight and that this is the first of many, many, many babies we’re going to have together.”
“Yes. A family. Our family.”
“Yes, little girl. Ours. Everything is ours. Together. And with you pregnant that means no one can ever take you away from me, no one can force you to live anywhere you don’t again. First and foremost because you’ll be with me. Second, if someone tries to take you there will be hell to pay. There’s no choice. Anyone that so much as upsets my little girl has to deal with Daddy. And Daddy doesn’t play nice, or fair when his little girl isn’t happy. Your happiness is everything to Daddy. Understand?”
I nod.
“Good, because it’s time to make you very, very happy right now, and make Daddy just as happy in the process.”
He tosses me back onto the bed, giving him a second to unzip his fly while I use the same time to pull my dress up and over my head.
Making quick work of the rest of his clothes while I do the same, I get my answer in regards to his body. His chest is covered in a broad swath of ink, his biceps too.
