All Chapters of ALL YOURS, DADDY: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

262 Chapters

61. ...my Ass Bouncing On Your Cock

Elena’s POVI showed up the next night already wrecked. I’d spent the whole day in a haze. Classes blurred past, lunch tasted like nothing, my roommate asked why I kept zoning out. My clit hadn’t stopped throbbing since Marcus left me strapped to the leg press, empty and dripping. Every time I sat down or crossed my legs I felt the ghost of his cock stretching me, the way he’d pulled out right when I was about to shatter. I’d showered twice, changed three times, but nothing helped. My leggings were damp before I even left the apartment. I wore the same cropped tank and high waisted shorts, black this time, because anything else felt too complicated.The gym was dark again when I arrived. Marcus was already in the stretching area. Floor to ceiling mirrors on two walls, padded mats on the floor, ballet barre running along one side. The overhead lights were off. Only two standing lamps glowed, casting long shadows and warm pools of light across the mats. The air smelled like rubber a

62. Strip!

Elena’s POVI arrived at the gym ten minutes early. My keys were already in my hand before I even turned off the car. Metal cool against my palm, heart thudding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I’d spent the day restless. Classes dragged, lunch sat untouched in my bag, my roommate kept asking why I looked like I was running a fever. I wasn’t sick. I was wired. Every time I shifted in my seat or crossed my legs I felt the phantom ache from the leg press, the way Marcus had left me strapped down and dripping, denied for the third night in a row. My shorts were damp before I even got in the car. I’d changed into fresh black leggings and a loose tank top, but the fabric already clung between my thighs by the time I parked.The front door was unlocked. The main floor was pitch black, only the red glow of exit signs along the baseboards. Marcus was waiting in the group fitness studio at the far end, door propped open, soft white light spilling out from inside. He was shirtless,

63. Please, breed me

I could see my face, mouth open, eyes half closed, cheeks flushed, sweat running down my neck.He gripped my hair, wrapped it around his fist, pulled my head back gently but firmly so I had to keep watching.“Look at how you take it,” he said, voice low and rough. “Look how your pussy grips me. Made for this cock.”I moaned, loud, uncontrolled, body rocking back to meet him. He fucked me steady, deep, grinding against my clit at the end of each stroke, building the pressure fast. I was close, body tightening, walls fluttering, breath ragged.He slowed, pulled almost out, left me empty, aching.“On the mat,” he said.He pulled me down, laid me on my back, mats soft under my shoulders, legs spread wide. He knelt between them, hooked my legs over his shoulders, pushed back in, deeper from this angle, hit spots that made my vision blur. Missionary now, face to face, eyes locked. He fucked me slow, deliberate, long thrusts, grinding his pelvis against my clit, hands pinning my wr

64. My Boss Fucked My Mouth

Mia’s POVI needed this internship more than anything. My parents had drilled it into me since high school. Get experience. Build the resume. Aim for that top law school. They sacrificed everything for me, working double shifts so I could focus on grades and extracurriculars. So when the application asked for references and I didn’t have enough strong ones, I faked a letter from my old tutor. Just a little white lie, I told myself. No one would check. But Voss did.He is the senior partner at the firm. Tall, always in tailored suits that hug his shoulders, voice smooth when he talks to clients but sharp when he turns it on interns like me. I hated how he made me feel small from day one, calling me into meetings to point out typos in my memos, watching me a second too long when I bent to file papers. He was 44, married, with pictures of his wife on his desk, but that didn’t stop the way my stomach flipped when he looked at me. I told myself it was nerves. But when he called me in

65. Fucking My Sexy Boss

Mia’s POVI spent the day terrified and aroused. Every time Voss walked past my cubicle my stomach flipped and my cunt clenched so hard I had to grip the edge of my desk to stay still. I caught him looking at me during the morning briefing. Eyes sliding over my blouse like he already knew what was underneath. I kept my legs crossed under the table. Thighs pressed tight. But it only made the ache worse. By lunch I was soaked through my panties. The cotton dark and sticky against my lips. I excused myself to the bathroom twice just to wipe myself clean. But the wetness came right back. I hated him for doing this to me. I hated myself more for wanting it.At six forty five I locked myself in the staff bathroom on the twelfth floor. The navy skirt suit hung on the hook. Pressed. Crisp. Professional. I stripped down. Bra off. Panties off. Left them folded on the counter. No underwear. The skirt felt tighter without anything underneath. The lining brushing my bare ass and cunt every

66. Under The Table

Mia’s POVI was shaking all day. The black dress Voss had specified hung in my closet like a threat. Short. Tight. Thin silk that clung to every curve. I put it on at six thirty in the bathroom at the office. No bra. No panties. The fabric whispered against my nipples with every breath. The hem barely reached mid thigh. Every step made the lining brush my bare cunt. I felt exposed before I even left the building. A breeze from the elevator vent slipped up my skirt and made me clench. Wetness was already sliding down my inner thighs by the time I reached the lobby. I pressed my legs together in the cab ride over. Tried to breathe normally. Failed.Le Bernardin was packed. White tablecloths. Crystal glasses. Waiters in black moving like shadows. Voss waited at the corner booth. Dark suit. Tie knotted perfectly. He stood when I approached. Pulled out the chair next to him. The client was already seated across the table. Older man. Gray suit. Talking about merger terms before I even sat

67. Bent Over The Table

Mia’s POVI arrived at the office at nine thirty. The gray pencil skirt hugged my hips so tight I could barely breathe. No underwear. The lining rubbed my bare cunt with every step from the elevator to the boardroom. I was already wet from the drive over. The seat belt pressed against my clit at every stoplight. I had to grip the wheel hard to keep from touching myself. My thighs were slick by the time I parked. I wiped them with a tissue in the parking garage. It didn’t help much.The boardroom door was unlocked. Long table. Twelve chairs. Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Morning sun poured in. The tablecloth draped long enough to hide the floor beneath. Voss was already there. Alone. Suit jacket off. Shirt sleeves rolled. He sat at the head of the table. Laptop open. Coffee in a black mug.He looked up when I walked in. Closed the laptop. Stood.“Crawl under the table,” he said.I hesitated. He waited.I dropped to my knees. Crawled across the carpet. Slipp

68. Stripped and Naked For My Boss

Mia’s POVI knew I was trapped. And I didn’t want out anymore. The thought used to make me sick. Now it made me wet. I spent the day at my desk pretending to review case files while my mind replayed every moment Voss had taken from me. The under desk blowjob during his client call. The way his fingers curled inside me while he discussed depositions like I wasn’t there. The restaurant table. The boardroom. I had stopped fighting it. I wanted the next step. I wanted him to finish what he started. I arrived at his corner office at eight sharp. The building was mostly empty. Lights off on every floor except the executive level. The city glittered behind the glass walls of his office. Skyscrapers lit up in gold and white. Traffic crawled far below like distant fireflies.Voss was at his desk. Suit jacket off. Shirt sleeves rolled. Tie gone. He looked up when I walked in. Closed the file he was reading. Stood.“Lock the door.”I did. The latch clicked. The sound felt final.He w

69. WANNA FUCK MY THERAPIST

I'm going to fuck my therapist.I decided that approximately twenty minutes into our first session, somewhere between him asking about my "relationship with authority figures" and me noticing the way his fingers gripped his pen when I crossed my legs.Is that bad? Probably.Do I care? Not even a little.Let me back up.My name is Sloane Whitmore, I'm nineteen years old, and I'm sitting in a therapist's office because my parents are rich assholes who think throwing money at problems makes them disappear. The problem, in this case, being me getting caught with a fake ID and a gram of coke at some Delta Sig party last month. Daddy's lawyer made the charges vanish—because that's what lawyers do when you pay them enough—but Mom insisted on "accountability." Which apparently means fifty-minute sessions with Dr. Ethan Haven every Thursday at four.I thought it would be some old guy with a comb-over and bad breath. Someone I could lie to for six weeks until my parents felt sufficiently appeas

70. I WILL Fuck My Therapist!

Just a glance. But I saw it.And now I knew.He wasn't immune."So," I said, leaning forward slightly, "what do you want to know?""Whatever you want to tell me.""That's a cop-out answer.""It's an honest one." He picked up his pen again. "Tell me about school. What are you studying?"Safe territory. Boring."Undecided," I said. "My dad wants me to do business. My mom wants me to do pre-law. I just want to get through freshman year without failing anything.""And the party? Was that a one-time thing, or...?""Or do I party a lot?" I finished. "I mean, I'm in college. Everyone parties.""That's not an answer.""Fine. Yeah, I party. I drink. I smoke weed sometimes. The coke wasn't mine, though. I was just holding it for a friend."He wrote something down. I wished I could see what. Wished I could read his notes, see how he was categorizing me. Troubled teen? Rich brat? Manipulative liar?"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked. "Girlfriend? Anyone you're seeing?"My heart rate picked up. "

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