A BIT MORE

~Lilian~

It was two flights of stairs to the floor that had hot daddy's room, and I was in front of his door before I knew it.

It was like I ran up the stairs, but honestly, I don't remember if I did.

His door wasn't slightly opened this time, so I landed three heavy knocks on it before pushing through to let myself in.

He was sitting on a chair, in front of an opened laptop, glasses balanced on the ridge of his nose as he peered closely into the bright screen in front of him.

It was still morning, but he had all his curtains pulled down, leaving the room dark and cold, with only the light from the laptop screen illuminating his face.

He had turned immediately I clicked the door open and came in, surprise written all over his face.

I ignored the confused stare he dealt me as I looked around the room, my eyes getting accustomed quickly to the darkness.

A strong citrus smell hung in the air. It subconsciously reminded me of how the man that had me blindfolded in the kitchen never had that kind of scent on him.

It made me curious.

Somehow, a thought occured to me.

They were two men in the house, and both of them had admitted to wanting to get down with me through some uncommon actions.

It was possible that hot daddy never got my notes.

But he sent me notes.

Or maybe he never did send any note.

It might just be my head wanting to think that those were from him.

I shuddered at the possibility of everything I had thought being wrong.

Or maybe I was right.

I have to find out.

He must have a perfume collection.

My eyes flickered towards the shadow of the wardrobe.

As I started walking towards it, hot daddy stood up from his seat at that moment.

God, save me!

He was bare. No clothes.

Not a single one.

His c**k was big, round, long and dangling in front of him, begging for every attention.

His balls were like huge stress balls, very squishy.

I lost it.

Frozen in my stance, I stared at the goodness displayed in front of me, and my thoughts became a commotion of just ideas.

More than anything, I wanted to take his c**k in my mouth, shove it down my throat until it hurts, roll my tongue around it until it marks itself on my taste buds.

Hot daddy's gaze was everything but friendly, yet he still stood there, n***d, all open for me to behold.

I turned and started walking towards him, he did not flinch.

When I reached him, with trembling fingers, I traced across his chest.

For a second, I thought I might have been dreaming.

He still didn't protest.

My body was getting fired up. My insides were beginning to feel damp, starved.

I didn't look at his eyes.

I focused on my fingers.

Slowly, I traced down to his hip.

I wondered what he was up to by allowing me touch him, but I didn't want to think about it.

My fingers trembled harder.

I resisted the urge to slip my hand under my clothes, and dig myself.

How far was he willing to let me go?

I was closer to his groin now, my heart beat faster.

I clenched my other palm tightly into a fist, a habit I had formed recently because of how bad my anxiety had gotten.

I was a touch away from grabbing his c**k now, but my fingers trembling got worse.

I'm sure he must have noticed.

I didn't want to risk being shoved away because I grabbed him with jittery fingers.

It would mean I wasn't ready.

I cussed myself beneath my breath.

Then, I pulled away completely.

I still didn't look at his face.

The room became colder, and the darkness that loomed around us became thicker.

I didn't know where the light switch was, and I didn't want to waste time looking for it.

Taking a few steps away from him, I unbuckled my shorts.

Leaving them, they fled off my waist to form a small heap on the floor.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head, leaving me in my flowery bra.

My inside felt cramped. My p***y was burning.

I knew I needed release.

I knew I couldn't get hot daddy to f**k me, so I decided to dig myself in front of him. Again.

I thought about the few things I had grasped from the pole dancer's short coaching time - immersing myself body and soul completely into the act.

I dragged my feet across the floor until I hit the bed.

Climbing over, I went down on my knees, my back facing the direction I guessed hot daddy was standing.

I bent over until my head touched the thick sheets.

Then, from behind, I examined my p***y with two of my fingers.

It was slippery from the mass of c*m that had formed a thick film over its surface.

A moan escaped my throat.

I glided my fingers several times across the film.

My moaning becoming uncontrollable now, my breathing hard against my voice.

But just like the pole dancer, I focused on the pleasure I was feeling.

Not worrying about the possibility of someone barging inside or hot daddy shoving hard away from the bed because he wasn't impressed.

I didn't even try to muffle my voice by burying my head in the sheet like I would do in the past.

I withdrew my hand from my p***y, but I didn't bring it back to the front.

Rubbing my thumb against my slimy fingers, a thin line dragging across my skin whenever I pulled up, a rush of heat ran down my spine, and my breathing gagged.

I was still struggling to stabilize my breathing when I slid my fingers, slowly but steadily, through the hole of my p***y.

A gasp escaped me, it has never felt this good.

Before I knew it, my whole body was jolting uncontrollably.

I grabbed the sheets tightly with my free hands until the tips of my finger felt sore.

My b*tt bounced against my arm as I continued to dig down in front of hot daddy.

My helpless moaning filled the cold dark room, my uncontrolled breathing hot against the sheets.

I didn't know how much time passed before I felt a strong brightness against my eyes, then an arm yanking my hand away from under me, the force causing me to fall weakly on my side.

I opened my eyes. The window blinds were up, and the light bulbs were on and bright.

"Don't you dare to ever try this again."

His voice boomed against my tired breathing, angry and threatening.