DDD: Daddies Dirty Desire
The city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over her bare skin.
A soft moan slipped from her lips as she slid two fingers beneath the lace, circling her swollen clit. On the large TV mounted on the wall, the video played loud enough for her to hear every filthy word.
“Daddy’s little girl has been so bad today,” the deep male voice growled from the screen. “Look at that wet pussy dripping for punishment.”
Becky’s back arched, her free hand squeezing one of her full, perky breasts. Her nipples were tight and aching. She was soaked—embarrassingly soaked. The kind of wet that made her thighs slick.