Daphne Vs. Daddy

by Mona Cox

  “How are things going at work?” Mary asks, interrupting my pleasant daydreams.

  “Fine. Some new clients are keeping me busy.” And some ex-girlfriends are making me insane.

  “This weekend, a bunch of my friends and I were going to go to a concert over at the Barclay Arena,” Daphne says, looking straight at me, almost like it’s a challenge. “Carla got us some good seats. Will you be able to come?”

  I pause, fork midway to my mouth, staring at Daphne. I’d love to say yes, of course I would, but we can’t be public about our relationship. Not right now. Especially not with Heather out there, going a little more crazy every day. We have to be careful.

  The silence is stretching out between us and I’m just staring, not sure what to say and I can tell she isn’t happy…

  “That’s what I thought,” Daphne snaps. “I’m not good enough for you to take out in public. Well, Dominic, I don’t think you’re good enough for me anywhere. We’re through. Go find someone else to bamboozle with your bullshit.” With a screech, she pushes out her chair and storms out, grabbing her purse from the counter on the way to the front door. I stare after her, mouth hanging wide open, as the awkward silence fills the air. The slam of the front door reverberates through the silence like a gunshot, making everyone jump.

  Fuuuucccckkkkkk…

  21

  Dominic

  I can’t get her off of my mind.

  I haven’t seen her since Mary’s house—God that was awkward, having my ex-wife watch her daughter break up with me, but oh, how I miss her.

  When she was my stepdaughter, we did things together. I attended her school plays and helped her with her science fair project and helped her fill out scholarship applications and studied chemistry right alongside her.

  She was gorgeous back then, although in a young colt sort of way. A little awkward, a little gangly, totally unsure of herself. I loved being around her, but there were no sparks between us. I didn’t look at her long legs beneath a short skirt and drool over them. I looked at her long legs beneath her short skirt and tried to tell her to put on leggings. Or a nun’s outfit.

  I couldn’t force her to, and Mary always took Di’s side, but there were more than a few times where I thought, “I know what the boys are thinking when they see that much skin!”

  But it was never what I was thinking.

  Now, though … I miss her. I miss her smile and her laugh and her willingness to try anything in bed and her sense of humor and her intelligence.

  None of that matters, of course. She’s pissed at me, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to be who she wants me to be.

  God, I miss her in bed. So fucking much. I want her so badly, my balls hurt. I’ve got a constant hard-on, everywhere I go, and it’s ridiculous. It’s out of control.

  So I figure, what’s the cure? One last final fuck. Hard and rough and I can fuck her like a bitch, just the way she likes it, and then we can say goodbye. It’ll be closure for us.

  Yup, I’m totally going to stalk her. I can’t say I’m proud of that fact, but I know when it is that she gets home from the gym. I know her routine. If I just call her and ask her, “Hey babe, wanna fuck?” she’d tell me to go fuck off.

  I need to be there when she gets home, and she won’t be able to resist me, once I’m there and she’s looking at me. It’s much easier to say no over the phone, when her senses aren’t involved.

  Sneaky? Yup. Underhanded? You bet. Going to do it anyway? You bet your ass I am.

  I’m leaning against the wall outside of her apartment door, checking my watch impatiently. Any minute now … I try not to tap my foot but damn, I’m not used to be kept waiting, even if Daph doesn’t have a clue I’m here.

  Finally, the elevator door dings open and she steps out. She stops, mid-step, her foot crashing to the floor awkwardly as she’s staring at me. “What are you doing here?” she hisses.

  Not necessarily the start I was hoping for, but realistically, I couldn’t expect anything less. She begins digging through her giant-ass purse; why is it that women insist on carrying everything and the kitchen sink with them when they go out into the world?—searching for her keys.

  I jerk my head toward the door. “Let’s go inside and we can talk.” She looks suspiciously at me but finally pulls her keys out and we get inside the apartment. She shuts the door behind us, throws her purse onto the hallway table and crosses her arms, leaning against the door and glaring at me.

  “So talk,” she half growls.

  “I’m here to fuck,” I announce, and her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “Nothing more. I’m not here to makeup; I’m not here to convince you to take me back, and I’m not even here to tell you I’m sorry. I just figure that after weeks of hot and heavy and hard fucking every night and cunilingus every morning, you’re missing me as much as I’m missing you.”

  She opens up her mouth to tell me to fuck off, but her eyes … they’re looking me up and down hungrily. She can see the massive bulge in my jeans; just talking about fucking her has made me hard. She wants me as much as I want her. I just have to convince her body to overtake her mind and stop using so much damn logic for everything.

  Sometimes, a good fucking is all a person needs. Nothing more, nothing less.

  “So I’ll make you a deal,” I say. “You let me kiss you—just kiss, nothing more. I’ll even keep my hands on your shoulders while I’m doing it. If, by the end of the kiss, you want me to march back out that door, I will. I give you my word.”

  She’s hesitating and I’m holding my breath. I don’t want to march out that door until I’ve stuck my cock in her, but…

  I will if I have to. I’m here to fuck my stepdaughter one last time, not to rape her. If she says no, I’ll respect that.

  She bites her lower lip and her body relaxes against the door and even before she gives a slight nod, I know that she’s mine.

  For this moment only.

  Then I better make it count, right?

  22

  Daphne

  Despite everything I’m going through emotionally, I want Dominic to touch me. That’s the problem isn’t it? I want him to touch me, but I want more than the touches he offers in private. I express this conflict and this need in returning every kiss that he offers, slowly giving something back to him when he takes away my resolve, melting it away with his lips on mine. I do want him now, but I’m afraid he’s never going to want me to be his in front of the other people that matter to me. Touching him now, letting his fingers roam up and down my body and pull me close, his wicked grin and charming words enticing me ... it's better than thinking about how much I want Dominic and not having him.

  I place my hand around Dominic’s arm, feeling the firm muscle there. He smells good—some expensive cologne that probably costs more than my rent. I move my hand down to his wrist and start kissing his palm, licking it slowly and tenderly, like a sex kitten warming up to her owner.

  I want you, I try to say by sweeping my tongue across the palm of his hand and collecting the taste of his skin. He watches me, and those fuck-me-in-the-bedroom-now eyes of his makes me dizzy with need.

  Dominic runs his hand down my face, feeling me gently, erasing all my objections. Our lips dance together as we feed each other more deep kisses.

  “You want me?” Dominic asks. He’s toying with me now, showing me how no matter how mad I am, with no resolution, he can have me pining for him while he paws me.

  That raspy voice of his is doing its magic seducing me, making my eardrum tickle a bit when I think about the feel of that voice when his mouth is closer to my skin.

  “No.” I’m pretending not to want him, but not well enough for either of us to believe it. That’s not the point though—it’s play. Of course I want him. My body has never been more alive than when Dominic is inside of me. The way that he makes me cum is mind blowing, and it seems to be capable of blowing all my objections out of my mind and replacing it with a blazing hot, searing need. This ma
n who was once my stepfather. I tumble into my feelings for him, knowing they’re wrong, but they’re there. So what can I do?

  Well, we both know what I want to do. I want what Dominic wants. I want him to fuck me.

  Dominic gives me this arrogant smile back. He knows that I want him. He knew that I would want him now, even though I was mad enough to storm out of dinner.

  “You’re mad, still, though?,” he asks. Dominic knows that he can get me to say that I want him when I’m mad, and now he’s really playing with me. “You know, we don’t have to make up to have make up sex.” Sex is a word that rolls off his gorgeous lips like it was made for him to say. Dominic is pure, tantalizing sex right now.

  Even though his words horribly frustrate me, I already want to pour them into some angry, frustrated tangling of us together until I cum so hard I might forget for a few hours that I was ever mad. I can remember later.

  I give Dominic a look that’s full of all the heat and the torment within me right now. My desire is playing out over my face, I feel the burn on my skin even as my eyes narrow.

  Dominic studies my eyes, his own drinking me in and promising me that, yes, he knows how badly I want him. That he wants me too.

  When he looks at me like that, shivers run up my spine.

  Dominic runs his hand along my cheek. He wraps his arms around me and we kiss passionately this time like we did the time we first slept together. With the kind of raw need that makes every touch as urgent as the last, our mouths smash together and our breath gets lost in each other.

  Dominic lifts me so I’m sitting on the table. His scent washes over me as his hand surfs up under my shirt to unhook my bra. When he frees my breasts from their cups, my whole body reacts to the fact that he’s touching my bared skin again, finally. Every second without Dominic’s hands on me is a second I lose my mind.

  He places a hand on the back of my knee so I sweep forward and my thighs are on either side of him. I can feel Dominic’s thick, erect cock caged in his trousers. His tongue rolls around mine and I can tell from the way he touches me that he actually cares about me and not just my body. It makes it hurt all that much more that he doesn’t want to openly date me around my friends. When my own mother, his ex-wife, can accept us, why can’t Dominic hang out with me and my friends?

  The anger I get from this thought spurs me on. I yank his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his trousers. I run my hands over Dominic, feeling his skin. He’s smooth, firm, and warm to the touch. My breathing gets shallow just feeling him under my palms.

  “I want you,” I sigh, my head tossing back so he can shower my neck with kisses. I feel his stubble against my skin and I moan. I tug on the back of his nice shirt as he rubs his cock against my pussy. We’re still way too dressed, but that won’t last long.

  Dominic reaches back where my hands are gripping his nice shirt and wrinkling it up, and pries the shirt out of my hands, wraps his stern fingers around my wrists and holds them down to the counter and grinds against me.

  “Oh…” I begin with the “ohs” and “ahs” already, even though there’s been no penetration yet.

  Slow down. Don’t be so verbal yet; make him work for those sounds, I tell myself, but it’s hard.

  Literally, it’s HARD.

  I continue rubbing against him. I try and move my hands to release him from his pants to no avail. He keeps my hands where they are.

  “You want Daddy’s cock up that sweet, tight pussy?”

  “No,” I quip. There is a sly smirk on my face and I can tell he wants to wipe it off. I love this little interplay. It does make every drop of frustration just add to the endless ocean of lust rising between us.

  Dominic unsnaps my shorts and I start to move my hand.

  “You keep your hands on that counter, understand?” he commands.

  We play-fight for a minute, him grabbing my hand and placing it on the counter and me trying to pull away, but then his other hand burglarizes my panties, and he slips a finger up inside my pussy. It’s just one finger, but it’s enough to pull a crazy twitch from my body because I have been craving him ever since I stormed out of that dinner. I physically need him to fuck me more than I need anything else, and now I can be mad ... and get fucked …

  Dominic studies me as I move around his hand. I bump my clit against his knuckles to drive myself wilder. His hand feels so good on my pussy and I’m greedy for more. He starts kissing my neck again, takes his hand out and places it on the back of my neck. I can feel my own wetness against my skin and we start kissing again. Deep and hard.

  “I’m going to fuck you in the bedroom,” he says in that chilling calm dominant voice. Dominic picks me up effortlessly and takes me down the hallway.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I say. But I do want him. My thong is all bunched up and wet with arousal from just his finger intrusion.

  “I’m still fucking you,” he says.

  God, it's so fucked up, but that just turns me on more. I love how alpha and possessive Dominic gets. I'm craving it the way I’m craving his huge cock.

  When he carries me to my bedroom, I’m aroused by him taking me into my own space. I’m grateful to have him there, after being apart from him. I can’t feel silly about it when he sets me down. He puts me on the floor on the nice soft plush rug because neither of us can make it to the bed yet; we’re both so hungry for each other, and we start going at it. Kissing and touching as if it’s our first time exploring each other and what our bodies have to offer the other.

  He makes his way down my body so he’s between my legs. He leaves me in my clothes for the moment, and starts kissing me on my thighs.

  “Oh…” I start pushing my pussy against him again, desperate for his touch, as his fingers crawl up to my button, and he undoes my shorts.

  “Dominic,” I say his name, my fingers getting lost in his hair. He sits up over me for a minute and pushes my shirt up to my neck. My nipples are hard atop my breasts, which he always describes as beautiful.

  Dominic places his hands on the hips of my shorts and tugs on them to reveal my lace pink thong and the soaking wet patch of my arousal from him sliding his finger inside me before. I tangle my fingers in Dominic’s hair and he bends forward to kiss my belly. It's sweet, tender, and so achingly sexy. I can feel how much he needs me too. I'm the burning name in his brain in the middle of the night. He’s the aching sensation burning through my insides and making my every nerve tingle.

  Dominic peels off my clothes and studies me, his eyes moving along my body almost feel as physical as his firm, strong hands when they touch me. He reaches for my knees and slowly parts them. There’s a thick, smoldering silence in the room, and the air is filled with the scent of our skin and the musk of sex. Dominic moves his face between my thighs and he inhales my pussy. His hands travel up to my breasts and he cups them, then drags his fingers against my nipples and tugs them.

  I moan beneath his touch, and wanting so much more. He's teasing me, making me wait.

  I circle my hips, my ass sliding along the rug.

  When Dominic finally touches me again, he presses his finger deep inside of me, stretching me and filling me with just that single finger pumping in and out of me. That’s enough to make me wild, squirming beneath him and rolling my hips, squeezing that finger with my inner walls because I’m begging him for more.

  Dominic slides that finger out of me and brings it to his mouth. He sucks the full length of it and makes a sound that’s just pure, raw, primal desire. My nipples ache just hearing that sound and knowing that he is making it for me. The frustrations thrumming through my body are marred with lust, rewritten like broad paint strokes; one is completely covering the other.

  "My daughter’s pussy tastes so good, I think I need to taste more," Dominic purrs. Popping the finger from his mouth, cleaned of my pussy juices, Dominic slides that finger and two more into my pussy. Pumping them fast, I arch and groan at the sensations coursing through me.

  I yelp wh
en his fingers slide out of me suddenly, and he flips me over and slams his cock into me, hard. “It feels even better on my cock than it does on my fingers, though.” His voice is pure dark seduction, sending as many thrills through my body as his enormous cock fucking so deep into me.

  I can barely breathe, he’s slamming into me so hard, and I’m desperately fisting the rug, trying to grip anything, but I can’t find purchase. My body is shaking hard from the rough invasion; Dominic’s strokes are long and hard when he slams into me again and again, faster and harder. I grip him hard with my inner walls, my pussy strangling him because I needed this.

  Fuuuuuck I needed this.

  I feel an enormous tension lifting from me and I’m desperate for the release that’s just around the corner. Every furious pump into me makes my temperature rise. My blood is singing his name, shooting through my veins and heating my whole body. I feel the salty-sweat on my skin, taste it around us with the musk of our fucking coating the air.

  Dominic wraps his arm around me, scooping me from the collarbone up against him. “I fucking need you and I know you needed me. Now cum for me, baby girl. You know how much I want you,” Dominic says. There’s something in his voice that breaks something within me, releasing a dam of emotion that floods through me just like my pussy gushes out cum.

  Dominic slams me down on him, holding me tight against him so my pussy milks his cock for his own thundering orgasm. My pussy is coating his cock in cum and now he’s cumming so hard I feel it sliding out of me and mixing with my cum. The rug may be white, but it's going to have a new pearlescent sheen after this.