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“I need to get out of these wet jeans. They stink.”
Her hand darts out, fisting my shirt just below my sternum as she looks down. I know that if her eyes connect with my crotch, the throbbing beast of a hard-on I’ve been sporting all fucking day is not something I can hide.
“I was trying to say…” She licks her lips and I feel like my balls are filled with a metric ton of cum, waiting for her to open her womb and accept delivery. “You’re right. I never have had a Daddy. But, I’d like to. Do you know anyone that might be interested in that position?”
“You had to ask that?” The words feel like sandpaper in my throat. “Because, my little Prima, I won’t lie to you. Not about this.”
“So, what does that mean? You know someone then?” Her eyes twinkle as she teases me, turning on her tiptoes, wiggling her ass as she spins. She’s elegance and grace and youth. I’m none of those things, but right now, none of that seems to matter.
Life brought her to me, now it’s time for me to take what I know I deserve. What I know we both need.
“I am someone.” I stomp in her direction. She’s spun her way over toward the sofa, the light from the door out to the pool making a halo of light around her silhouette. “I am Daddy.”
I hear her gasp as I grip her wrists, backing her against the glass, holding them above her head.
“Now, like I said, I need to get out of these wet jeans.” I let go of her hands. “Get to work, baby. Show Daddy what a good girl you’re going to be for him.”
Her mouth opens but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she makes this little chirping sound and I see her body shudder.
“You pretending you don’t want what I want? I can feel it Layla, it’s like someone turns up the heat a hundred degrees whenever we’re within sight of each other. Am I right?”
She shakes her head but squeaks out a little, “Yes.”
I can taste her sweet breath, my mouth just inches above hers. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this? How it would feel to have your little virgin walls wrapped around my thick cock? How it would feel to fuck into you until you are rotten with me?”
That little chirping sound comes from her throat again and it’s sexy as hell knowing she’s hot but a little off balance by it all.
“How many times?” she manages, her little voice tickling my ears.
“I’ve kept a notebook, little one. I’ve written down every time I’ve come thinking of you. Written down what I was thinking, how in my fantasy I was fucking you, kissing you, eating you, binding you, spanking you…” Her eyes snap wide. “You’re going to find out, having a Daddy isn’t all stuffies and snuggles. It’s fire and fucking and filth. It’s stinging ass cheeks and serving me in ways that you may not understand. It’s so much more, too, but right now…” I step back, letting go of her wrists and ripping her t-shirt off over her head, leaving her in that wisp of a bikini top and shorts. “Get your hands busy and take off my jeans. Then, you’re going to really meet your Daddy.”
“But, what about—”
“I’ll worry about whatever needs worrying about. Your job right now is to do as you’re told. To please me. Nothing else matters for you but that.”
I see the tension in her face soften as her fluttery little hands run down my belly, gliding down the stripe of hair that points right at the button of my jeans. I let her work in silence, memorizing every sensation of her hands. First, she pops open the button, then there’s the rasp of the zipper and her sharp intake of breath.
Her eyes are on her hands, then rake up to mine, then back down.
“Take them off. The boxers too.”
Her fingernails scrape down my hips as she peels the damp fabric over my ass. “I think it’s stuck.”
She tugs and I feel my cock angled to the left, hooked in the elastic of my boxers. I reach down and pop the head free, making Layla squeal in what I hope is delight but it sounds more like abject terror.
“Holy heck,” she mutters, her eyes practically drilling holes in my dick, she’s staring at it so hard. “That’s…like a contender for Guinness Book of World Records.”
“It’s going to be all yours, baby.”
“Really? What do you mean, all mine?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” She peels the wet fabric down my legs and I step out, happy to be free from the uncomfortable sticking-wet jeans. “Yours to worship, adore, taste, hold, please…”
Her lashes flutter as her breathing stalls. “This is surreal.”
