Im Wet Daddy Novels & Stories

“And so wet.” “Daddy.” I whimpered, feeling a man’s fingers on my clit for the first time. He grabbed a handful of my hair with one hand, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “You’re going to give me that tight little pussy, and you’re not going to tell anyone about it.” “Yes daddy.”

I could see it now—the outline of his cock straining against his sleep pants, the dark spot where he was leaking, the way the fabric tented obscenely. “You want more than my fingers, don’t you Daddy?” I whispered hotly. “Don’t say things like that. Fuck,” He groaned, and then cursed. “But, you’re so wet, Daddy,” I kept my voice low, teasing, filthy. Pressing my thumb against the head again, feeling even more wetness seep through. My eyes were focused on Daddy’s face which was contorted with pleasure he was trying so hard to fight. “Is this all for me? Have you been this hard every night? Lying next to me, leaking into your pants, desperate to be inside me?”

Daddy is nothing like the good fucker you fantasize. In smooth silence, I reach for the medal, unable to completely get my mind off playing my fingers around her wetness, feeling how smooth and thick she comes. The feel of it makes my muscles go rigid. My fingers greedily caress the face, drawing out every drop of her wetness, jealous of my own image. The only thing I want to collect her wetness is my palm. ‘Oh, fuck… Daddy will break you.’ Heavy moans light up my soul. The feel of her wetness drives me nuts. It's warm.

"I'm your stepmommy." Zanéh scrunched up her face further like the last word was a pungent smell in her nose. She eyed the lady up and down and settled back on her face. "You're white." Murda slowly rose back to her feet, dusting at her knees. It was obvious she didn't know what reply to give to that. Kiersey saw this as her cue to step in. "I take it you didn't know before? " Zanéh shrugged nonchalantly, popping at her gum. "I don't know, I just assumed Daddy . . . where's my daddy?" She glanced about with question, before settling back on Murda's face with an expression that could be likened to accusal.

Isn't this what he thought his daddy would look like? Tang weiwei observed the little fellow carefully and murmured, " You both really look alike!? Little bean, where is your daddy?"' The little boy stared at the man in the photo. His lips formed into a pout. " I don't have a daddy."' Tang weiwei, was stupefied. A cute little kiddo like him, how could he not have a daddy? So designer cheng was raising this child all by herself? "Aunt tang, is this man married?"

"Ah, hello, Dad," Jairus greeted his father with a warm smile. "How are you, my son?" His father's voice was affectionate and filled with love. "I'm doing okay. And how are you holding up?" Jairus inquired. Mr. Ezekiel sighed, a hint of humor in his voice. "Ah, just trying to stay sane living with this difficult woman." Jairus chuckled; his father's sense of humor remained as sharp as ever. "Is she getting on your nerves again?"

] This message was followed by a cute emoji. Naomi stared at the screen and smiled. Mister Daddy really knew her. Then several messages popped up in the chat box. [Mister Daddy: You were so brave when spending a hundred million dollars to marry me. Why are you so timid now?] [Mister Daddy: No matter what happens in the future, I will be with you. Don’t believe those feudal superstitions! And please don’t give up. Do you hear me?] At this moment, Naomi suddenly recalled their first meeting.

This man wasn't giving me chance to catch my breath, and I was feeling drowned by his powerful touches —he's amazing just like his son! "Yes, daddy!" I gasped sharply when he slash the kiss, and we both gazed at each other piercingly. Mr. Reagan's traveled to my thighs and he slipped into my pant, he flicked his fingers as he sorted for my pussy. Before I could say a word; he thrust his two strong fingers into my pussy. "Ow!" I moaned, my hands settling on his broad shoulders as he molested my pussy. Causing a series of emotions mixed with sensation to flush through my veins, the adrenaline was too much!

He proved to be a great listener I wondered two days in if he’d ever wake up. This morning I went through the routine when my mom called me and our conversation ended up in her cussing at Peter because, in her words, he is a 'dirty man whore' Now I went into my newfound hobby of gazing at the man in my bed. I'd giving him a name too, Kel, after my dog I had when I was eleven. I couldn't still place where he was from because he didn't look American one bit and now that I think about it neither did those men.