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CHAPTER23
Briana
He had thrown me on the bed in a single motion, and as I watched his next movements they, too, all seemed part of one connected gesture, a sort of graceful, utterly masculine dance. He had his t-shirt over his head and he dropped it onto the chair while at the same time, it seemed to me, he had already started to unbuckle his belt and drop his fatigues and his black briefs to the floor.
I realized that the amazing things Papa Georg had done to me—my body and even, it felt like, my whole consciousness—over his knee had affected my perception of the scene. Because he had to have taken off his boots at some point, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to take off his pants and his underwear, would he?
I hadn’t noticed that part, but I saw every detail of what my papa revealed to me now as he stood naked before me for the first time. I saw my papa’s enormous cock, pointing straight at me, jutting majestically, arrogantly out of its nest of golden hair. The rest of him, furred with the same gold, did nothing to take away from the impression that my papa had something truly godlike about him.
Godlike for me, anyway,I thought as I felt my brow furrow and I bit my lip. I couldn’t keep the little whimper of awe and wanton need from escaping my mouth though, as I looked up into Papa Georg’s eyes. His face had taken on an air of great seriousness when he started to undress, as if he wanted to make sure I would see and take to heart every passing moment of this first time… the first time my real papa would possess me as his own… his own bad girl, his own…
I whimpered again as I thought the word, the one I would never have imagined I could think about any man.
His own property.
A shudder went through my whole body, then, because my papa had reached out and taken hold of me, his dance continuing and now involving me and my achingly needy body fully. His right hand had reached down, and grasped my left knee, raising it toward my chest. Now his left hand did the same to my right leg, so that at the same time he could pull me toward him, to the edge of the bed, and bend me nearly in two.
I cried out at the sensation in my well-paddled ass, the tightening of the muscles my papa had punished so justly and thoroughly. Papa Georg’s dance of dominance continued unabated despite my noise of mingled distress and lust; he spread me swiftly open, so that my cry became a moan and then a whimper at the feeling of openness and exposure.
His eyes went downward, and that made me moan again, because I could see him admire and appreciate the parts of me he had declared to belong to him from this day on. My own gaze went down, too, and my face went red as I realized that the way my papa had arranged my body let me see the naughty pout of my own desperately needy pussy. Past the red bunch of my silky nightgown’s skirt, the pink lips of my bare slit had opened like a flower as if to welcome my papa.
I saw his huge manhood, too, so close to the place it needed to go, the aching hole it needed to fill.
“Hold yourself open,” Papa Georg said, his voice deep with the special tone that made my body comply willy-nilly. I couldn’t tell if he had used the voice of authority intentionally, or whether perhaps he had simply reflexively adopted it because my papa’s first instinct was to command my obedience. I didn’t want to know, because my pussy had clenched when I had merely thought of that idea, and at that moment I wanted to live in the mystery: how strict… how firm-handed… how hard a daddy was my papa?
In the meantime, as those thoughts had unrolled in my mind, my hands had obeyed him. I had taken the backs of my knees in my hands, and the memory of being made to assume the same posture in Garonov’s bunker rushed back into my imagination. I realized that Papa Georg had done that intentionally, and I looked back up into his face to find that he had returned his own attention to my eyes.
A little smile had curved his lips upward, too, and his eyes had narrowed a bit, as if he were experiencing a deep satisfaction to have me laid out that way before him, ready for fucking just as he pleased, in the same position they had made me adopt for my gangbanging, when my real papa hadn’t gotten really to participate at all.
I felt my face twist into a pout of arousal so strong that I thought for a moment I might cry with need for my papa’s hardness inside me. His smile got a little bigger, and he said softly, “It’s my turn, sweetheart. Just one cock, now… but I’ll make sure it fills you up.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Yes, Papa. Yes, please.”
The smile on his gorgeous face turned into a grin—almost a boyish one, though that aspect vanished almost instantly as his attention turned once again to his cock. He took its rigid length in his right hand. His left reached out and slipped under my nightgown, to caress my breasts a little roughly. His touch there felt like another claiming, as if he wanted to ensure he had as much of my body in his possession at once as he could. The thought made my hips buck, thrusting my pussy up as much as I could, desperate to have his hardness where it belonged.
My papa chuckled at the wanton movement. He raised his cock up a little as if to tease me, enough that I let out a frustrated whimper. Papa Georg took pity on me, though: he swiftly lowered his hard penis and ran it down along my private lips all the way to the sheath made for it, for him, and he put his manhood inside.
Again he seemed to begin a dance; as my body bucked again, trying to get him deeper, he moved his right hand up my body to join his left. Both hands took hold of me, gripping firmly but without force around my ribs, demonstrating effortlessly just how big a papa I had. With the same movement of his body, as it seemed to me, he thrust his hips forward, using his hands to keep me still on the bed, so that I would receive the brutal surging of his enormous cock exactly as he wanted to give it to me.
I cried out, suddenly feeling like my papa had taken my virginity anew, so dominantly did he open me. My back arched and my body cried out for the climax I should have had then, the moment I felt his lap come up against my punished bottom and the whole length of his cock fill my pussy, just as he had promised.
I thought he would start fucking me immediately. My eyes had closed, squeezed shut with the delicious discomfort of his huge manhood. When he held himself there, deep inside, I opened them again to find Papa Georg looking down into my eyes. He bent down, suspended on the hands that encircled my body just below my breasts, and he kissed me.
The moan that escaped me as he opened my mouth with his own, as my body quivered beneath his, seemed to come from my very soul. My need for release threatened to make me lose consciousness.
Papa Georg broke the kiss for a moment.
“Come, now,” he said. None of my daddies had ever used the voice of authority so softly, or with such great effect. When my papa returned his lips to mine, and he started to thrust inside me, so hard that from the beginning I thought the metal bed might bend or even break, I started to come as I had never come before.
I cried out, upward, into my papa’s mouth. My body shuddered under his, utterly dominated and utterly pleasured. I closed my eyes and took wing, it felt like, into the upper atmosphere, waves of pleasure jolting through me again and again. His strong hips kept thrusting, his hardness surging into me relentlessly, mastering me more fully with every stroke of his huge manhood.
Somewhere in the middle of the terrible ecstasy that took hold of me, the release that seemed to unwind my entire soul, Papa Georg rose up, and stood at the side of the bed, pulling me toward him. He moved his hands from my ribs to the backs of my thighs, their broad palms seeming to envelop me there and to secure me in my bent, opened position.
I opened my eyes and saw him there, looking down at me, fucking me all the while, and a new climax took hold of me to see how majestic my papa looked, and to feel how very thoroughly he could take care of me. He could show his love tenderly, in that kiss and that permission to come, and he could show it firmly—brutally even—in the mighty movements of his hard cock.
I need it both ways, my mind sighed, as my body responded under his, squirming so that I felt how completely he held me in place so that he could use me for his pleasure. I need it every way.
As if he could read my mind, Papa Georg pulled his cock from my pussy. I gave a little cry of disappointment, but the stern expression on my papa’s face told me he would decide about where his hardness went in my body, and that sent a new spasm of pleasure echoing out from my clit. My eyes went wide at the next move of his dance: he turned me around on the bed, spinning me atop the blanket so that my view of my papa became filled with his huge cock and his gold-furred balls, with his face looming above, the stern look giving way to an expression of hunger.
