Father I Crave Cheddar Novels & Stories

I stared at the food and suddenly, I didn’t want any of it. “Is something wrong?” Mum asked gently. I shook my head. “No. It looks amazing.” Dad narrowed his eyes slightly. “But?” I hesitated. “I’m craving something else.” Miles blinked. “You’re kidding.” “What could you possibly be craving?” Mum asked patiently. “Something simple,” I said. “Like… diner food.” Miles burst out laughing. “You flew into New York to eat diner food?” “Yes.” Dad leaned back in his chair. “The chef can prepare whatever you want.”

I assumed he would ignore it, but he answers and I hear my father's voice on the other end. "Anthony, Sebastian, congratulations are in order." My father decides to pretend I'm not there, which I'm pretty much used to. Nothing new about that. Nope. Nothing at all. I mean it hurts a little, but really, it's no big deal. I clean the plate and get a toffee pudding for desert. Fiona groans and I turn to look at her. "Where do you fit all that?" "I guess it goes here." I discretely point to my breasts.

He gripped my hair with one hand and his right hand held my ass tight. “SMACK!” He spanked me hard on the ass, “who does this pussy belong to?” “You daddy…. You dadd….” Before I could even finish my words, I felt his heavy hand smack me on the same ass's cheek. “Arrghhhhh, daddddddy,” “Who owns your breasts?” He asked while the hand holding onto my hair left my hair and held my left boob tight before he used his thumb finger to pluck my nipple tight. “Ooooooh, Daddy Tyler…. You,” I saw while cumming, I was shaking rigorously and I started squirting.

I shake my head as I walk into the kitchen, Dad is there baking and I know something is bothering him, “hey Dad what’s wrong? He looks over his shoulder as I take a chocolate chip cookie from his cookie sheet and take a bite, there is nothing better than warm cookies. I place the cookie down and go to the fridge for some milk. “Nothing’s wrong, just felt like baking that’s all.” I pour my milk and sit back at the island, “if you say so, but remember whose daughter I am.” I take another bite of the cookie, “soo good dad.” He puts the rest of them in the oven and leans on the counter, “Alpha Christov, you really like him?”

I grip the silver tray tighter, my knuckles turning white against the polished metal. The heavy crystal glass of the vintage Merlot wobbles slightly, the dark red liquid swirling dangerously close to the rim. I need this and I need the tip that might come with it if I can play my cards right. The hospital bill for my father is sitting on my kitchen counter like a death sentence, a terrifying number that grows every single day. The chemotherapy is eating him alive, and the insurance is a joke. I’m not here to party; I’m not here to get my pussy wet or find some dick to ride for the night. I’m here to survive.

My father’s energy from his cock began to flow and lit up my pussy inside. His current was of love and grace that he had for me. I wanted to say something profound to my father but all I could manage was, “Ohh! Yes, daddy, fuck me. This is your pussy now! You can have me anytime you want me.”

Father would never reveal this part of him to others not even to our pack for to them he is their austere and rigid Alpha but to me, he is simply my fun-loving papa. "I would be honoured, Alpha Uranus," I utter playfully bowing my head in reverence whilst he scoops up some of the chocolate in a tiny spoon and feeds it to me. "You see mother, it is as I have told you. Theia is his favourite. He has never once fed me frosting." Cronus sulks. "Well, that is because papa cherishes me more." I snicker evilly opening my mouth for another spoonful whilst mother reaches forward to comfort my pouting brother.

"Taste her.” My eyes widened, chest heaving as I watched father Damon's eyes roll back as he sucked Father Matthias's fingers clean, groaning at my taste. "Fuck, she's sweet..." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh before nipping at my skin. Father Matthias released my throat to pinch my nipples roughly through my blouse. “Look at these pretty tits.”

“We’ve got three days. And Daddy’s not done teaching you yet.” I smiled up at him, spent, dripping, and happier than I’d ever been. “I don’t want daddy to ever be done, teaching me. Even when Mom is back.” His eyes glazed for a moment and I saw the same look of conflicting thoughts before his face dropped low onto my chest and his mouth latched onto my breast, my back arching at the contact. “Okay, princess. I won’t stop,” he growled, finally giving in. “Fuck me again,” I hissed, throwing my head back, spreading wider for my father, accepting this sick craving between us, because, I had become exactly who I wanted to be—Daddy’s perfect little cumslut.

Before I could say thank you, my mother clutched her chest and blurted, “You’re so beautiful, my God. Where is your blush from?” Claire blinked, and then laughed, “Dior. Limited edition. I’ll send you one.” My mother gasped, slapped my father’s arm, and whispered, “Ela vai mandar pra mim!” Meanwhile, my father turned to Adriano’s father, Salvatore Capone, “Finally, I meet the father of this boy who made my daughter stop calling us back for two weeks straight.” Salvatore cleared his throat. “You are... Madeleine’s father.” “Yes! Eduardo,” my dad nodded, “From São Paulo. You ever been? Big city. Horrible traffic. Best feijoada in the world. You know feijoada?”