“DADDY” IS MY SECRET P**N DIRECTOR! 2

Chapter 2

Lovie’s POV

“Daddy… what the fuck…”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, barely more than a cracked whisper, but it was enough. 

His head snapped toward the doorway, eyes locking on mine. That small noise I made, half gasp half choke, hit him like a live wire. 

For a second everything froze—me standing there naked and dripping, the thick dildo still clutched in my right hand, him with his massive cock gripped tight in his fist, the head swollen and leaking.

He’d been calling me Lovie since I was twelve, right after my real dad died. 

He was Dad’s best friend back then, stepped right in as the father figure my mom needed. 

They weren’t even married, but he’d been “Daddy” at home for years. 

And now here he was, stroking that huge, veiny dick and moaning my real name like it was the only thing keeping him going.

My knees buckled. I had to grab the doorframe to keep from hitting the floor. 

My eyes wouldn’t leave his cock. It was thicker than anything I’d taken on set, heavy, angry-looking, the kind of size that made my stomach tighten even as my pussy clenched hard around nothing. 

The thought flashed through my head so fast it scared me—just walk over there, sink down on it, let him stretch me until I can’t think anymore.

What the fuck did I just think about right now? 

But reality slammed back in. This was the masked director and my father figure, he had watched me get fucked for six months. 

He’d seen every inch of my pussy, heard every moan I made for the camera. 

Mom…mom.. she could never—

Before I could back up or close the door, he crossed the room in two strides, grabbed my arm, and yanked me inside. 

The door clicked shut behind me. His free hand went straight to my tits, squeezing hard, palming one then the other as he pinned me against the wall with his body. 

My eyes widened. 

The rough fabric of his suit trousers pressed right against my soaked pussy.

I moaned loud, the sound ripping out of me before I could think. 

My back arched, pushing my chest harder into his grip. “Dadd—”

His hand shot down between my legs, fingers sliding through my slick folds and pushing two thick digits straight inside me without warning. 

My body jerked violently, legs shaking as I shouted, “Oh shit, Daddy!”

He leaned in close, voice low and rough, nothing like the modulated one from the set. 

“You want me to tell your mum what you’ve been doing? Spreading your legs for strangers on camera like a little slut?”

I shook my head fast, panic cutting through the heat. 

“No. No, please—”

“Then keep quiet,” he growled, cutting me off. “Don’t ask any  questions. Not even one.”

“Daddy…”

He kissed me right after, deep and filthy, his tongue pushing into my mouth like he owned it completely and had been waiting years to claim every inch. 

Oh shit this seems really exciting because it makes my stomach rumble really loud. I know I have been a slut but I have never been excited by someone touching me like this.  Or was it because he’s older? 

I could taste the raw hunger in him as his lips crushed against mine, wet and demanding, his breath hot against my face while his hand stayed locked between my thighs. 

My pussy was still dripping from the set and from touching myself, and his two thick fingers kept working me open, sliding in and out with these steady, dirty strokes that made wet sounds every time he pushed deeper. 

I had taken so much cock these past six months on camera, mouths and hands and hard thrusts from strangers wearing masks, but none of it came close to this feeling of being completely exposed and caught by him, the man who had been calling me Lovie at the dinner table since I was twelve.

This is wrong, this is so fucking wrong, but my body does not want to stop.

My back pressed hard into the wall as he held me there, his suit trousers rubbing right against my bare skin while his fingers curled inside me and hit that spot that made my thighs tremble. 

I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled and desperate, my hips rocking forward on their own to take his fingers even deeper. 

He pulled back from the kiss just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and intense, breathing heavy like he was fighting to stay in control.

“I’ve been watching you on that couch for months,” he muttered, voice low and rough, no modulator hiding it now. 

“Seeing this tight little pussy take dick after dick, creaming all over the set. You have no idea how hard it made me every single time, Lovie. I had to jerk off in here just thinking about you.”

His words hit me like a slap, sending another rush of heat straight to my core. 

I should have been ashamed, should have pushed him away, but instead my pussy clenched hard around his fingers, soaking them even more. 

He noticed, a small smirk pulling at his mouth as he pumped them faster, twisting them on the way out so I felt every knuckle dragging against my walls.

“Oh god,” I gasped, my head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. 

My legs were shaking badly now, my knees buckling as the pleasure built fast and dirty. 

He used his other hand to grab my left tit, squeezing the soft flesh before leaning down to lick across it, slow and wet, his tongue dragging over my nipple until it was stiff and aching. 

Then he sucked it into his mouth hard, teeth grazing just enough to mix a sharp sting with the overwhelming throb between my legs. 

“Fuckkkk daddyyyyy” I cried out, loud and broken, my hand flying up to grip his hair without thinking.

He switched to the other nipple, pinching the first one tight between his fingers while he sucked and licked, making these low, hungry growling sounds in his throat that vibrated against my skin. 

Every moan I let out seemed to make him more aggressive. 

My juices were running down his wrist now, dripping onto the floor of his private office, and I could not stop rocking my hips, fucking myself on his hand like I had lost all control.

He is my daddy, the one who helped raise me after Dad died, the one Mom trusts. And I am so fucking wet for him I cannot think straight.

“Please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for. 

My free hand reached down between us and wrapped around his massive cock, still hard and leaking from when I first walked in on him. 

It was so thick my fingers barely met around it, hot and heavy, pulsing in my grip as I stroked him clumsily, spreading the pre-cum over the head with my thumb.

He groaned against my breast, the sound deep and raw. 

“That’s it, stroke Daddy’s cock while I finger this sloppy pussy. You love it, don’t you? Do you want to be my dirty little secret?”

I nodded fast, biting my lip hard as another wave of pleasure rolled through me. 

My walls fluttered around his fingers, gripping them tight every time he pushed back in. 

He added a third finger suddenly, stretching me wider, and my mouth fell open in a silent cry, eyes rolling back for a second. 

The burn felt so good, so full, making my clit throb without even being touched.

He kept sucking my tits, alternating between them, leaving them wet and marked with his mouth while his fingers fucked me harder. 

My body surrendered completely. 

My legs turned weak and useless, sliding apart wider as I sagged against the wall, barely holding myself up. 

All I could do was moan and rock against his hand, chasing that edge, forgetting for those long seconds that he was supposed to be my father figure, the steady man in our house. 

Right now he was just the one making my pussy cream and drip like never before. The knock came suddenly, loud and sharp against the office door.

“Director? Are you there? We need you back on set in five minutes”

He hissed out loud, teeth clenched tight, fingers still buried deep inside me.

“Daddy, please don’t stop...” I begged shamelessly before I knew it.