“Does the poppet have a name?” I love when he uses my nicknames to get me to focus. “Will you suck my dick if I tell you?” I ask. I’m a psychotic brat for Daddy, and he knows it. I can imagine how pissed off I’m making him. “At this rate I’m going to shove you onto your knees as soon as I see you and make you choke on my dick,” he growls. “Now, be a good boy for me and tell me her name.” “Fine, but do I get to come if I suck your dick?” I whine teasingly. I’m pushing him hard, and it’s because I’m so keyed up right now. My knee is bouncing as I drive, too.
