All Chapters of All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

They didn’t let me sleep long. I felt Dante’s cock pushing between my cheeks while I was still half under, the head already slick from the mess leaking out of me. He didn’t ask. Just shoved the plug aside with his fingers and sank into my ass in one slow, heavy thrust that dragged a broken sound out of my throat. Vince was already at my mouth, cock thick and hot against my lips. I opened without being told. He slid in deep and held there, hand in my hair, while Dante fucked me from behind in long, grinding strokes that made the bed creak. Nico watched from the chair, legs spread, stroking himself slow. “She’s still so fucking wet. Look at that married cunt just dripping on the sheets.” Dante reached around and shoved three fingers into me, stretching me open while his cock worked my ass. The dual pressure made my eyes roll. Vince started thrusting into my throat, short and mean, until spit ran down my chin and dripped onto the pillow. They used me like that until Dante came hard,

Morning came with Dante’s cock already halfway into my ass. No warning. No warm-up. Just the thick head pushing past the ring of muscle that was still loose from the plug and the night before, then the slow, relentless slide until his hips sat flush against me. I woke up choking on the stretch, hands still cuffed to the headboard, legs shoved open by Vince’s thigh. Nico was already at my mouth, rubbing the wet head of his cock across my lips until I opened. They didn’t speak at first. Just used me. Dante fucked my ass in deep, grinding strokes that forced broken little sounds out of my throat every time he bottomed out. Vince’s fingers worked my cunt at the same time—three of them, then four—stretching me while I tried to breathe around Nico. The dual penetration made everything tighter, hotter, more overwhelming. I came once from the pressure alone, walls clamping down on Vince’s fingers while Dante kept pounding through it. They switched without pulling all the way out. Vince t

I got to the bar at 11:35. Same seat. Same whiskey. The place was almost empty, just the bartender wiping glasses and a single woman at the far end who never looked up from her phone. I didn’t look at her either. I watched the entrance and tried not to check the time every thirty seconds. She walked in at 12:11. Last night’s black dress was gone. Tonight it was a short red one that clung to her hips and stopped high on her thighs. Hair down. Same lipstick. She saw me, held the look for a second longer than before, then came straight over and sat close enough that her bare knee pressed against mine under the bar. “You came,” she said. Voice quieter than the other nights. “You knew I would.” She ordered her gin and tonic. When it arrived she didn’t drink it. Just turned the glass in slow circles. “I almost didn’t show. Told myself four nights was already a mistake.” “But you’re here.” “Yeah.” She finally took a sip. “Because I kept thinking about how you feel when you’re b

I first saw her on a Tuesday. Rain was coming down in sheets, the kind that soaks through your coat no matter how hard you try. She was under the awning outside the bookstore on 5th, phone pressed to her ear, one hand shoved in the pocket of a black coat that looked too thin for the weather. Dark hair stuck to her cheek. She kept pushing it back with the same irritated motion, like it was pissing her off more than the rain.I stood across the street under the bus shelter and watched. Not for long. Just long enough to memorize the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the way her mouth moved when she talked. Fast. Sharp. Like she was telling someone off. When she hung up she stared at the phone for a second, then shoved it away and walked into the rain without opening her umbrella. Just let it hit her.I followed.Not close. Never close at first. Half a block. Always half a block. She lived six streets over in one of those old brownstones with the iron railings that lo

The house was finally quiet. Sophie’s nightlight glowed soft pink under her door, and baby Jack’s steady little snoring came through the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table. Mrs. Carter wouldn’t be back from her conference until Sunday night. Just me and another long, well-paid weekend. I’d been babysitting for the Carters over a year. Mr. Carter always tipped extra and got home late. Tonight, though, I was so fucking horny I couldn’t sit still. All week the guy from my psych class had been looking at me like he wanted to bend me over a library table. I couldn’t wait anymore. I sank into the big leather couch, yanked my tiny sleep shorts to the side, and pushed two fingers straight into my soaked pussy. The green light on the baby monitor blinked. Soft static. I spread my legs wider, rubbing my clit in tight, fast circles, the sound of it messy, biting my lip hard so I wouldn’t moan and wake the kids. My hips started rocking. The wet sounds of my fingers filled the quiet livin