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หน้าหลัก / Romance / DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire / Bossy Daddies 1

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Bossy Daddies 1

ผู้เขียน: Johndoe
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-03-03 17:22:57

Amelia smoothed her pencil skirt for the third time as the elevator climbed to the 42nd floor. First days were supposed to feel nervous, but this felt different—like stepping into something already burning.

The office was all glass and dark wood, quiet except for the low hum of the city far below. HR had given her the quick tour, handed her a keycard, and disappeared. Now it was just her, the empty reception desk, and the heavy door marked PRIVATE at the end of the hall.

At 6:47 p.m. her phone
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  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Bossy Daddies 5

    The city swallowed them back up like it had never let them go. Monday morning Amelia walked into the office same as always—hair pinned neat, blouse tucked, smile polite for the receptionist. No one asked where she’d been over the weekend. No one noticed the faint purple bloom of a hickey peeking just above her collar if she turned her head wrong. She sat at her desk, opened her laptop, and felt the faint ache between her thighs like a secret heartbeat.Nothing changed.Everything did.She stopped checking dating apps. Deleted them without a second thought. There was no room for anyone else. No space for small talk over drinks or awkward goodnight kisses. Victor, Damien, and Lucas filled every empty corner of her life—not with flowers or promises, but with texts at odd hours, hands that knew exactly where to touch, mouths that never lied about what they wanted.They didn’t say “forever.” They didn’t talk about rings or moving in or meeting families. What they offered was simpler and ho

  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Bossy Daddies 4

    Friday afternoon the black SUV pulled up outside her apartment building. No warning. Just a text at 3:17 p.m.: Downstairs. Now. Bring nothing.Amelia grabbed her keys, locked the door, and went. Victor was behind the wheel, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. Damien in the passenger seat, one arm slung over the backrest. Lucas sprawled across the middle row, smirking when she climbed in beside him.“No phones,” Victor said as he pulled away from the curb. “Hand them over.”She gave hers up without a word. Lucas tucked it into the glovebox with the others. The doors locked with a soft click.The drive took two hours—city fading to suburbs, then winding mountain roads lined with pines. No one spoke much. Lucas’s hand rested high on her thigh the whole way, thumb stroking lazy circles through her jeans. Every so often Damien reached back to brush her cheek or tug her hair lightly. Victor watched the road, but she caught his eyes in the rearview more than once—dark, hungry.The cabin sat at

  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Bossy Daddies 3

    Monday hit like a slap of cold air after the weekend’s heat. Amelia woke up sore in all the right places—thighs bruised from gripping, lips swollen, a faint ache between her legs that made her smile into her pillow before she forced herself out of bed. She dressed carefully: crisp white blouse, charcoal pencil skirt that hugged her hips, black heels sharp enough to click with purpose. Underneath, simple black lace panties. She almost left them off, but something about the tiny barrier felt teasing, like she was daring them.The office buzzed with the usual Monday rhythm—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, coffee machines hissing. No one looked at her twice. She was just the new assistant, efficient, quiet, polite. Exactly how they wanted her to look from the outside.At 12:15 p.m. her phone vibrated once.Boardroom. Now. Bring the Q3 projections.She gathered the thick folder, heart already kicking up. Lunch hour had started; most of the floor was empty or scattered to nearby restaura

  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Bossy Daddies 2

    Amelia spent the whole week in a haze. Every time she sat at her desk, crossed her legs, or caught her reflection in the glass walls, she remembered Friday night—the way Victor’s fingers had curled inside her, the way Damien’s breath had burned against her ear, Lucas’s tongue flicking over her lip like a promise. She’d gone home soaked, showered three times, and still felt them on her skin.Saturday dragged. She tried to keep busy—laundry, grocery run, anything to stop checking her phone. At 6:32 p.m. it buzzed.8 pm. Victor’s penthouse. Black dress. No panties. Don’t be late.No hello. No question mark. Just an order that made her stomach flip and her thighs press together.She showered again, slow this time, shaving everything smooth like she knew they’d notice. The black dress was simple—sleeveless, fitted, hem hitting mid-thigh. No bra either; the fabric was thin enough that her nipples showed if she moved wrong. She didn’t care. She wanted them to see.The doorman waved her throu

  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Bossy Daddies 1

    Amelia smoothed her pencil skirt for the third time as the elevator climbed to the 42nd floor. First days were supposed to feel nervous, but this felt different—like stepping into something already burning.The office was all glass and dark wood, quiet except for the low hum of the city far below. HR had given her the quick tour, handed her a keycard, and disappeared. Now it was just her, the empty reception desk, and the heavy door marked PRIVATE at the end of the hall.At 6:47 p.m. her phone buzzed.Conference room. Now.No name. No please.She swallowed, heels clicking too loud on the marble as she walked.When she pushed the door open, the air changed. Thicker. Hotter.Victor stood by the window, arms crossed, suit jacket open just enough to show the crisp white shirt stretched over his chest. His dark hair was swept back, a few strands falling loose like he’d run his hand through it. He didn’t smile. He just watched her with those steady gray eyes.Damien leaned against the far w

  • DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire   Breastfeeding my father-in-law 5

    The days blurred into a single, pulsing rhythm. No whispered apologies in the hallway, no furtive glances laced with shame. Only hunger—constant, shameless, sharpening every glance, every accidental brush of skin. Stacy’s husband’s return loomed like a distant weather front: two days away, then one, then hours. It changed nothing. If anything, the ticking clock made every stolen moment burn hotter.They took what they could, wherever they could.In the garage one humid afternoon, while the baby napped and the house staff was out shopping, Victor backed her against the workbench. The air smelled of motor oil and cut grass. He yanked her sundress down to her waist without preamble; her breasts bounced free, already leaking through the thin cotton bra she hadn’t bothered fastening properly. He tore the cups aside and latched on standing—hard, urgent pulls that made milk jet into his mouth and spill down her stomach in warm rivulets. Stacy gripped the edge of the workbench, thighs parting

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