by Aubrey Cara
Starting at the base she licks all the way to the top. She stares at the precum dripping from my tip for a second before tentatively rubbing her lips over it. Mouth glistening with my cum she looks up at me and licks her fucking lips, her eyes rolling closed like my taste is heavenly to her or something. It’s the single most erotic thing a chick has ever done to my cock and I fight the urge to shove in her mouth. The sight of her on her knees in front of me as she licks at my dick like a fucking kitten, is killing me.
Finally her eyes lock on mine as she opens wide and closes her mouth over the head of my cock, slowly sliding down until she gags. She sucks her way back up my cock only to reverse the process. She does it again and again gripping my thighs harder every time her throat closes up over my cock and I have to fight back my need to come. I notice new honey on her thighs and realize it’s making her hot. Gagging on my cock is turning her on.
Fisting my hand in her hair I start fucking her mouth. Every couple of thrusts I hold her down on my length as she moans and claws at my thighs. “That’s right princess, suck daddy’s cock real good,” I encourage.
Her moans are vibrating up my dick, and she’s sucking me so hard my eyes roll back. Her back teeth keep scraping over the head of my dick and I don’t even care. I’m lost in a haze, fucking the most perfect mouth. I hold her down over my cock and instead of gagging, she swallows me down, her throat working me over. I can’t hold back as she swallows again and again. I pump hard into her mouth and cum down her throat.
I’m still semi hard as she sucks off my tip with a pop. A shiver is going down my spine at the move when she places a dainty kiss to my dick. It startles a chuckle out of me, the move is so sweet and unexpected.
“You’re a surprise, Candi Dawson,” I say running a finger down the side of her face.
She shyly peeks up at me from under her lashes. “I’m not quite sure what to make of you, myself, Hank Buchannan,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Come here,” I say pulling her to her feet and into my arms. I’m feeling tender, sappy at the moment. What the hell is this chick doing to me?
She’s twining her fingers in the fabric of my shirt again, and I have no idea why I find it cute, or why it makes me want to nibble on the tips of each of her slender digits. I’m obviously overtired and high from coming.
“Um, Hank?” she asks, tentatively.
“Yeah?”
“Well, um, may I, that is to say—”
“Spit it out princess,” I say down at her.
“May I come?” she asks, directing her question to my chest. She’s blushing, after everything she just did, now she blushes.
I pull her face up so she has to look me in the eyes. I’m a bad daddy, because I know I should say no. It’s setting a bad precedence to cave now, but she’s taken her punishments so well, and fucking sucked my cock so damn sweetly. She’s new to this, I reason. I’ve talked myself into letting her have an orgasm, but really I just want to see her come and the look on her face when she knows satisfaction from my touch. I’m getting hard again at just the thought of feeling her come. But I’m not about to make it easy on her.
Reaching down between our bodies, I teasingly run a finger along her swollen pussy lips, careful not to graze her clit. “You want daddy to make you come?”
“Mmhm, yes please,” she says on a sigh, her eyes rolling closed as her hips chase my finger, trying to get the direct contact I’m denying her.
“How do you ask nicely?”
“Please, may I come?” she asks, looking unsure.
“Daddy, will you please make me come?” I supply for her.
She bites her lip and I notice she does this whenever she’s feeling shy or uncomfortable. It makes me want to suck the abused flesh into my mouth.
She swallows, looking down again. “I thought you didn’t want me to call you that.”
“You have my permission to call me daddy.” I’m dying to hear the words on her lips again. The first time had been a shock, and a lie. This time I want her to know what she’s saying, and I want to savor it.
“D-daddy,” she says hesitantly, and I tip up her chin so she has to look me in the eyes when she says it. “Daddy,” it comes out a bit breathy, but her blue eyes are locked on mine, and the look on her face is open and earnest. “Will you please make me come?”
“Of course, baby girl. It will be my pleasure.” I’m fucked. I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to deny this girl anything after this.
Pulling my shirt up over my head, I heel, toe off my boots before pulling off my pants. I scoot down the center of the bed, pulling her with me. “Come up here and ride daddy’s face.”
“You mean you want me to sit on your face?”
“Mmhm. You’re going to rub your hot cunt on daddy’s mouth, and ride my tongue till you come all over me.”
She shivers at my words but swings her leg over my chest to straddle me. I grab her hips and pull her forward. She clutches the bed frame to steady herself, but she’s still hovering too far out of reach, so I pull her down onto my mouth and her whole body jerks as I suck her clit between my teeth.
Her taste is fucking ambrosia and the little needy moans she’s making are music to my ears. When she starts moving on me it’s tentative at first. I can tell she’s never done this, and her movements are unsure. Reaching between her cheeks with one hand I grasp the end of the plug and ease it out a ways before sliding it back in.
Her breath hitches as her legs begin to tremble at the move. Again and again I start gently fucking her with the plug and she grinds her hot pussy on my face, her hand comes down to grip my hair. I growl into her as her cum gushes on my tongue and she’s riding me, breasts swaying as her pussy clenches on my tongue.
“Hank, Haank,” her breathy cry rings out as she comes and I silently vow she’ll be calling me daddy with the same breathy abandon as she comes on my dick in the near future.
With shaking legs, she eases off me and slumps on the pillows beside me. I run my fingers over her chafed thighs. The tender flesh is beard burned, and I bend down placing gentle kisses on the red skin. Her shiver at the gentle caress has me trailing kisses up her body until I get to her mouth.
She runs her delicate fingers over my lips before leaning up to kiss me. It’s the first kiss she’s initiated and the significance of the move doesn’t pass me.
My eyes roll back as she wraps a hand around my cock, pressing me to her hot cunt as I rock against her. Her breath catches so sweetly as I slide against her clit. “You want to come on daddy again, baby girl?”
She looks up at me, nodding, her mouth slightly open on a gasp as I hit her spot again. “Make yourself come on daddy.” My mouth crashes over hers, catching her moans and cries as we move together. I work against her wet pussy, gliding with ease as she holds me in place. She’s getting closer and I grab her hips tilting her up until I’m pumping along the full length of her soaked slit. Sloppy sounds fill the air as her body bows.
Fisting her hair, I make her look up at me, “Who’s making you come, princess? Whose cock are you coming on?”
Her breath hitches before she gets out a broken, “Daddy’s.” Her body bows again as her eyes roll back, “Daddy’s, daddy’s cock,” a breathless chant.
Feeling her come undone underneath me, hearing her cry “daddy” has me spurting on her belly. I slam my mouth over hers, catching her cries, growling into her as my cum covers us both.
With a light kiss to her swollen lips, I ease back on my knees. Her body is flushed, and she’s sporting red marks here and there from her face to between her legs from my beard. I’d feel bad if the sight didn’t make me feel so damn satisfied. Her beautiful breasts are rising and falling as she pants, and I can’t help but lean down to kiss one of those beautiful mounds. I’m breathing like I just ran a mile in five minutes myself, and feel lightning zap from my balls to the top of my head when Candi squeezes my cock she still has wrapped tight in her hand.
> She blinks up at me with a naughty little half grin. The little devil knows what she’s doing.
Running a finger through my cum pooled on her belly, I paint it over her lips and her tongue automatically darts out to taste me.
I groan. “Oh, princess, you’re going to be the death of me. I’m going to go get something to clean us up with.”
She nods not moving a muscle as I ease off the bed. I can tell she’s starting to tense up and feel awkward after all that’s been said and done.
In the bathroom down the hall, I quickly wash myself and soak a washcloth in warm water before padding back to my room. She’s still in the same position, staring up at the ceiling, but now her hands are fisted at her sides. I wipe down her belly, but her hand grabs my wrist as I clean between her legs.
“I can do that,” she says looking up at me, horrified.
“Daddies clean up their little girl’s mess.” She clearly doesn’t know what to make of that statement but she lets me go and stares off to the side. Her mouth in a mutinous line. “All done,” I say when I’m finished dropping a kiss to her bare mound.
“Um, Hank…aren’t out you going to remove, the um, thing?”
“The plug?” I ask with a wicked grin. “No, naughty girls get to sleep plugged.”
“But-but—”
“No arguing about it either,” I say cutting her off. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.” I pull down the covers on the other side of her and she crawls under the blanket, settling on one side of the bed. I pull her into me soothing a hand down her back and she starts to relax.
She rubs her nose on my chest before settling with an arm across my stomach. The move is so damn cute and sweet, it warms me. I realize I’m falling for this girl and I think she’s feeling it too. But the fact remains she’s hiding things from me, and we can’t move on into something more until she opens up.
“Candice?” I say quietly, not sure if she’s awake.
“Yeah?” she answers in a sleepy voice.
“I think it’s time for you to tell me what’s going on with you and your brother, baby girl.”
Her body stiffens against mine and she tries to pull away. “Oh, no. You’re staying right here and telling me everything you’ve been keeping from me.” When she remains quiet I hedge, “You can trust me, Candi. After tonight, you have to know you can trust me.”
“Why, because you’re a delusional asshole who likes to call himself daddy?”
I’m half expecting her words, but they still sting like hell. “No, you can trust me because I care.”
“Well I don’t want your brand of caring, daddy. The only reason I let you touch me is because I owe you money. You’re nothing to me.”
This time when she yanks away from me I let her go as if scorched. Getting out of the bed I grab some sweats out of my dresser drawers and put them on in angry jerks.
Opening up my nightstand I pull out my wallet and grab the thirty-two bucks I have and toss it in her face. She flinches and swipes away the money, her face has gone pale.
“Hank, I’m sorry—”
“What? I thought you wanted to play the whore tonight? Not so keen on that game anymore, either?” My angry words ring in my own ears.
She sucks in a breath, blinking back tears and I grit my jaw, refusing to back down. I was a fucking idiot to get sucked into this girl’s orbit in the first place. “Try to get some sleep,” I say shutting the door behind me. Somewhere deep down I know she’s just acting out because she’s scared, but I can’t give a shit. I knew better than to get involved with Barbie Princess, and I did it anyways, because I had a hard on for her.
Big. Fucking. Mistake.
Going to the liquor cabinet in the living room I grab a bottle of my dad’s good bourbon and flop down on the couch. Sometimes it pays to live at the house of an alcoholic.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CANDI
I wake up to daylight streaming through the only window in the room. I know exactly where I am. I’m in Hank’s bed. Alone. My eyes are gritty and swollen. There’s no mirror in here, but I know I look like a hot mess. I can practically feel the bags under my eyes. After he threw money at me and stormed out I cried myself to sleep.
What I said to him still burns like hot acid in my stomach. I should have confessed everything to him last night. The temptation to spill all my troubles at his feet and have someone to lean on was so great I almost did just that. He said he cared and I ruined it. Hell, I verbally shat all over him. What he said hurt like hell, but I know I deserved it. He, however, didn’t deserve any of the crap I said to him.
Climbing out of bed, I find my skirt and shirt, wincing as I bend down. I have to find a bathroom so I can remove this thing from my ass. My panties are a limp, damp rag of fabric and I debate what I should do with them as I step into my heels. Spotting a trash can by the dresser, I toss the panties and start looking for my bra. It’s as if the thing has disappeared. Without the push-up bra, my breasts are swinging free and peeking out the bottom of the little silky crop top I’m wearing.
I give up my search and step out into the hall. In the light of day, I feel as conspicuous as Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she’s walking around the high end shopping district in her whore clothes. As Hank pointed, out I play the part of whore well. And I look it this morning. I’m terribly aware of this thing up my ass as I exit the room. I’m almost positive Richard Gere never made Julia Roberts walk around sporting butt décor.
Down the hall in the opposite direction from the living room, I spot the bathroom. Lord almighty, I look like hell. My hair is a tangled mess and my makeup is smeared all over my face. I’m a cross between the Joker in Batman and a raccoon.
The mirror is placed too high to get a proper view of my butt, but I still lift my skirt and crane around, trying to gauge whether or not I have any marks on me. A whimper escapes me as I remove the damn plug, wincing at the dull throb its removal causes. My poor derriere is never going to be the same. All my special places are sore like I had some kind of sex marathon. My tushy is tender but other than a few little bruises—that’s more likely from Hank gripping my ass—there are no visible signs I was introduced to Hank’s belt.
I wash my face, the cool water clearing my head. Watching the water run down the drain in a swirl I wish it was just as easy to wash away last night. I towel my face dry and discover I still look like hell. Not seeing a comb I finger brush my hair and use the potty. I wash my hands, not even glancing at my reflection. I feel as awful as I look. No need to remind myself of that fact.
Heading out the door and toward the living room we passed through last night, I hear snoring. Hank is passed out on the couch, a half bottle of Jim Beam open on the coffee table. I’m tempted to take his keys and head home. That or just walk. I thought about doing just that last night while I cried into a pillow that smelled like Hank. Daddy.
The second the word daddy comes to mind I’m warm all over remembering last night. Oh god, I’m as delusional as he is.
“Hank,” I say reaching over the back of the couch to shake his shoulder. “Hank, I need a ride home.” Come up here and ride daddy’s face. The words blaze across my mind and I squash the memory. The scorching look on his face, his hand held out. His big hard muscular body filling up the entire bed. The way my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I mounted his big, broad shoulders, my thighs spread so wide. God, I was splayed wide open for him. I thought you wanted to play the whore tonight? I give myself a mental slap. “Dammit, Hank. Wake. Up!” I shake his shoulder more vigorously and he sputters awake.
“I need to get home,” I say, as he rolls to a sitting position and clutches his head.
Rubbing his eyes, his head hanging down he asks, “What time is it?” His voice is like gravel. He too looks like hell this morning, but I refuse to feel guilty even though I know I’m probably the reason he drank himself to sleep.
“Ten-fifteen, and like you pointed out last night, my brother has no
idea where the hell I am. So let’s go.”
“Fine,” he scrubs a hand in his hair as he stands and I try not to notice all the hard packed muscles on display. “Let me go throw on some keys and grab my clothes.”
I smile at his mix up. “Don’t you mean—”
“Don’t start with me,” he says pointing at me with a stern look and it wipes the smile right off my face. Then he pauses as he really looks at me. “I’m going to grab you a fucking t-shirt too. You look fucking indecent.”
“I thought we weren’t swearing,” I say in a small voice.
The look he shoots me says, “fuck you” but he stays stony silent as he turns to leave, but just then Wyatt walks in scratching the back of his head, yawning. He’s only wearing boxers, his body all tanned, lean muscle as he pads into the room and comes to a halt. His eyes that had been squinted with sleep pop open as he looks from me to Hank, back to me in confusion.
“Candi?” Wyatt says before shooting Hank a look. “I thought she wasn’t your type, brother.”
“Hot n’ blonde is everyone’s type. Besides, you’d have to be dead and dickless not to notice her, right, brother?”
I flinch, his words stinging more than I’d like to admit. Any chance of him seeing me as more than legs and tits I blew last night running my damn mouth.
The air in the room is tense as the men stare at each other in some kind of silent pissing contest. Hank is pissed, but Wyatt looks a little bit hurt and confused. The poor guy has no idea what he’s just walked in on.
“Hank was just taking me home,” I say. Bringing attention to myself is a mistake. Wyatt’s gaze is full of accusation and scorn as he scans me from head to toe, and I cross my arms over my chest feeling unbelievably exposed.
