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“And you call me whatever name you want, Baby Doll. But I like it when you say Daddy.”
Act cool. Act natural. Act like you haven’t had your dick inside your friend’s daughter.
Luther lays a hand on my dad’s shoulder with a wicked grin aimed my way. “That’s right, Kendra. I’m your daddy now too.” I gape. He. Didn’t.
“You’re going to suck my cock,” he repeats. “You’re not going to touch yourself. You’re going to work your mouth on my dick until I’m ready to come. Then, when I tell you to, you’re going to climb up here, straddle my lap, and swallow my cock with that sweet slit.” He leans in closer. “And when I’m filling you, that’s when you can come. And that’s when you can kiss me.” He releases my neck and leans back. “Start.”
Moving my hands back to his shoulders, I try to lift my hips. But my quads shake, and I barely budge. That’s it. I give up trying, accepting my new existence. Stuffed with cock.
On the next breath, it hits me again. The hurt. And I let it live. I let the hurt fill my chest, same as the oxygen. Because the pain is true. The pain is as alive as I am. But it won’t beat me.
“Please.” I beg for more. I need him to hurry. “Please, who?” He rocks his hips against me as his lips brush mine with each syllable. Warmth builds between my legs. I lick my tongue across his. Then I tilt my hips up to meet his. “Please, Daddy.” He groans. “Does my Baby need to be fucked?”
