by Selena Kitt
This wouldn’t be the first time she’d looked at him and wondered what he looked like naked. She’d often watched him work dough and wondered what his hands would feel like on her. She’d wondered what it would be like, for him to be her first. He was an easy going teacher in the bakery who’d laughed with her when she’d made a mistake and celebrated with her when she’d succeeded.
“I want you.” He caressed her with his eyes as he sat on the sofa, looking up at her. “But I won’t force you. I just want to see how beautiful you are…”
“Oh Daddy,” she breathed, her skin prickling everywhere. She didn’t call him “Daddy” a lot—probably used “Daniel” more often, to tell the truth—but she liked the sordid feel of the word on her tongue, sweet in the way indulging in a big sweet bun was, delectably naughty.
His eyes lit up at the word, at the way she began to unbutton her blouse. He raised his bottle to her and took another swig as he watched her open her blouse and shrug it off her shoulders, revealing her lace covered breasts. They were full, rounded mounds of flesh in white lace and she let her fingers linger over the swell before moving her hands behind her back to unhook her bra.
The bottle stopped against his lips when he saw her breasts fall free. They hung, heavy on her rib cage, her big nipples pink and hard already. She rubbed her fingers over them, smiling when Daniel moaned and slid a hand down to his crotch to adjust. He set the bottle aside when she started unbuttoning her jeans.
She wiggled denim over her hips, pushing it down to her ankles where she pulled each leg off, feeling him watching her full, swaying breasts at the motion. Her face was hot, flushed, and she pushed her hair out of her face, seeing his gaze had fallen between her legs. She wore white lace, see-through panties, and her fat, shaved mound had dampened them.
“Do you like me?” She cocked her head, half-smiling at the dazed look in his eyes.
“Fuckkkk.” He swallowed, his hand gripping the bulge in his own jeans. “Sara, take them off. Let me see all of you, baby.”
She bit her lip and hooked her thumbs in the elastic, sliding her panties down over the full curve of her hips. Her hands wandered over her rounded belly, her hips, moving down to her thighs to frame her shaved pussy.
“Turn around.” He twirled his finger, licking his lips. “I gotta see you from behind.”
“Daddy…” She giggled, but she did as he asked.
Sara turned, putting her hands on the coffee table, bending over and parting her thighs. She felt wet folds open a little, the air cooling the heat of her pussy.
“Fuckkkk,” he growled, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the way his jaw hardened at the sight of her bent over, offering herself to him. He never swore, and the words he was saying now both surprised and excited her. “Those are the sweetest fucking buns I’ve ever seen.”
She giggled again, and gasped when he grabbed a handful of each, kneading them like dough in his hands.
“You know what these buns need?” His stubble pricked the soft, sensitive skin of her ass and Sara moaned. “Some of Daddy’s icing all over them.”
“Oh God, yes, Daddy!” Sara cried out as he massaged her with both hands, one squeezing each cheek, massaging her, until she squirmed, his hands moving the cheeks, revealing her puckered hole to him. His hands moved lower then, fingers grabbing gently at her swollen folds, rubbing them between his thumbs and forefingers, up and down, driving her mad as her opened her there, too, her hole contracting in a plead for attention.
“Tell me you want it, cupcake,” he teased, biting and nibbling on her ass. “Tell me you want Daddy to squirt icing all over these hot little buns of yours.”
“Fuckkkk.” She hung her head, confessing, using his word. “Yes, oh, yes. Daddy, please, won’t you fuck me?”
“I’m gonna taste you first.” Daniel’s breath moved hot over her ass. “So fucking delicious.”
“Ohhhhh!” Sara let him move her, part her thighs. She dutifully, gratefully, more than willingly opened them more, feet planted wide, leaning forward toward the table.
“Oh, good goddamn, look at that spread,” he sighed right before his tongue flicked out and tasted her.
She let out a small cry, the feeling of him there making her pump her hips already, resisting the urge to push her folds back against his face, forcing herself to linger a little longer in the blessed torture of his tongue tracing over her pussy.
“Better than any cupcake.” His voice was muffled but she understood him and flushed at his words.
“You like me?” she asked again, hearing his pained, muffled moan.
He flattened his tongue, pushing through her labia to lap up her juices. When he brushed over her hole, he stopped, stuck his tongue in and out a few times, making her moan and give into the need to move against him. He groaned when she did that, tongue-fucking her harder, faster, until she rode his mouth.
“Please, Daddy, more!” she finally cried out. “More! Oh God, please, I want your cock!”
The truth was, she’d never had one before, not a real one. She’d been penetrated before—toys, even a cucumber once, but never by a real cock. It seemed fitting to her that it was him.
“You ready, baby?” Daniel undid his belt, dropping his jeans, his erection probing her legs even further apart. When the head of his cock slipped back and forth, up and down her seam, she bit her lip, feeling his hands move around to grope her breasts.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged him, arching, crying out when his fingers tugged her nipples. “Oh I need it. I need to feel you inside me.”
“Ahhhh fuckkk,” he moaned as he slid his cock head into her hot, tight entrance.
Sara had no hymen left, so she didn’t expect the rush of feeling she experienced when he penetrated her for the first time. Her whole body trembled and she arched, moving back against him, growling softly in her throat as she pushed her body against his.
And he was still only halfway in. She wanted all of him and rocked, begging, pleading for his cock.
“So tight, baby,” he gasped, his fingers playing roughly with her nipples, making them pebbles, shooting streams of pleasure straight to her core. “Easy. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”
“Please, Daddy, please,” she cried. “Give me all your cock! Fuck your little girl!”
That forced him to relent as he shoved his cock fully into her. Her pussy stretched around him, giving her a glorious thrill. She pumped back and forth against him, greedy, taking more and more until she’d consumed him, had her fill.
“Ahhh Sara, yes!” he rasped, sliding hands down to her hips, fingers digging in hard. “Fuck Daddy’s cock like that! Oh God, that fat, wet little cunt all over my dick feels so good.”
“You like that?” she panted, squeezing her muscles around him, hot and hard, again and again.
“Christ! Oh, Sara, don’t do that. Baby girl… fuckkkk!” He met her movements with his own, pumping deeper, harder, her knees bumping against the coffee table, her breasts swaying with the motion.
“You’re the first man who’s ever fucked me, Daddy,” she confessed, hearing his gasp and groan at her words. “I always wanted it to be you.”
“Oh Sara,” he murmured, grabbing a hand full of her hair and pulling her mouth back to claim it. She shoved her tongue past his lips, sucking at his.
“Make me come,” she whispered against his mouth. “Make me come all over that big, fucking cock, Daddy.”
“Oh baby,” he whispered back, sliding his hands down the fullness of her curves, her breasts, her belly, to cup her mound, feeling her hands there, already playing. “That’s my little cupcake. Let me do it.”
“Yes!” she cried, planting her hands on the coffee table, letting him take her, rock her, his fingers expertly rubbing her clit as he pounded into her from behind. “Oh Daddy, I’m so close! You’re going to… make… me… ohhhhhh commmmmme!”
“Yes, baby, yes, yes, that’s my girl,” he growled and grunted as she shuddered back against him, seati
ng the wide expanse of her ass into the saddle of his rocking hips and grinding into the most delicious climax of her life.
“Daddddddyyy!” she moaned as her orgasm took her, possessed her, making her writhe, her pussy pulsing, fluttering around the thick, plunging length of his cock. “Ohhh I’m coming all over youuuu!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he swore through gritted teeth and she felt the first explosion of his cum deep inside her cunt. “I can’t stop it! Oh fuck! I’m coming!”
He managed to pull his cock out of her then, the second blast shooting over the quivering, soft mass of her behind as he growled and pumped his cock in his fist. She looked over her shoulder to see him tugging his thick length, streams of long, sticky cum erupting from the tip to spray the pale flesh of her ass, sliding slowly down the pink crack.
“Oh Daddy, look,” she murmured, looking at him with bright eyes as she reached back one-handed to spread his cum all over her ass. “You iced my buns so sweet…”
Daniel chuckled, letting his still-pulsing cock rest against her.
Sara stood, turning and pushing him back onto the sofa. He looked down at her, breathless, as she took his still half-hard length in her hand, squeezing, getting the last bit of cum out. He moaned, watching her lick it off.
Liking it, she rolled the head around in her mouth, marveling at how he tasted. Wanting more, she settled for licking her juices from him, her own musky sweetness filling her mouth as she used her tongue to get his softening cock clean.
“Mmm, it’s so sweet. Must be all of that mead you drink,” she remarked as he pulled her up to him for a long, lingering kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her ear. “I wish this never had to end.”
She knew he meant the bakery, but the thought of losing him made her heart drop to her toes. Now that she had him, she was never going to let him go.
“I love you, Daniel.” She’d known him as “Daddy” for so long, but he wasn’t related to her, not by blood. This might be wrong, by society’s standards, but she didn’t care, and from the look in his eyes, neither did he. “I have an idea.”
“I love you too, cupcake.” He smiled when she wiggled in his lap, her cum-covered ass making them both a sticky mess, but neither of them cared. “What’s your idea?”
Sara jumped up, excited, grabbing her clothes and running to the little bathroom attached to the office. She washed herself up and got dressed, returning with a warm cloth to wash him up too. Daniel let her, stroking her hair thoughtfully.
“Time for coffee.” She got him a cup once he was dressed again, replacing the bottle of mead with a mug. Giving him a smile, she grabbed her baker’s coat and walked into the kitchen, determined to try something new, something she thought would make his recipe for sweet buns even better.
Setting up the yeast in warm water to rise in the bottom of the industrial-sized mixing bowl, she gathered up the eggs and butter she needed. Adding honey and buttermilk as she stirred, once the yeast had risen, she added in the other wet ingredients. In another mixer, she fluffed the flour, mixing it with some cinnamon and ginger for zing along with baking powder.
Going back to the wet ingredients churning away, with a big grin, she measured out a good portion of mead to make up for the liquids she’d held back on from the original recipe. Dumping the sweet, sharp smelling liquid in, she watched it swirl into the mixture. Once she got the buns all rolled out, rolled up, and into the oven, making the kitchen smell heavenly, she started in on the icing, her body giving a little tremble when she remembered Daniel’s special icing.
She smiled at Daniel when he came out of the office, shaved and cleaned up and looking much better than he had when she found him.
“Make this batch special, cupcake,” he called, giving her a wink as he headed toward the front to unlock the doors and open up for the day. “One to remember, okay?”
“Oh, I plan on it.” She raised the mead bottle and poured a bit of it into the powdered sugar, milk and butter mixture until it hit the perfect consistency. Since they were catering a party later tonight, and the sweet buns had been requested, she’d had to double the usual daily batch, working up a sweat getting them all out, but it was a labor of love that she would sorely miss.
* * * *
Exhausted from a long, busy day, washed down serving trays, smiling at the memory of that morning. It seemed like a million years ago, but Daniel hadn’t let her forget it. Every smile, every look, every “accidental” brush of their bodies or hands, held the memory of them together and brought a rush of heat to her cheeks.
Daniel walked in and she glanced up, seeing a grin spreading over his face.
“What?” She cocked her head, wiping her hands on her apron, unable to keep an answering smile from her face. “What is it?”
“You’re not going to believe this.” Daniel’s grin widened as he come over to her, putting his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair. “We’re going to be rich.”
“What?” she asked again, pulling back so she could study his face. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“John Vandersloot.”
“The… chef?” She blinked at him in surprised. She watched his show on the Food Network.
“He wants your buns.” Daniel grinned, hands moving down to squeeze her ass. “But these are mine.”
“Daniel…” She giggled, tilting her head so he could kiss her throat, her eyes closing in response. “Can you tell me, please?”
“Oh, right.” His head came up. “John Vandersloot wants your buns. He’s starting some sort of food show—you know like that entrepreneur show, Shark Tank? Except just for food. He wants our buns to be on the first episode.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Not kidding.” Daniel shook his head, his grin widening. “Not that I blame him for wanting your buns. Damn, girl, they are so fine…”
“Wait, wait.” Sara tried to get her bearings with his hands kneading her ass and his cock pressed hard against her hip. “He was here tonight?”
“Your sweet buns were gone before dinner was even served,” he told her, eyes gleaming. “What did you put in them, crack? Mmmm crack…”
“Daniel!” She giggled, feeling him edging her skirt up in back, his fingers probing her crack through her panties. “You know, I did add something. Here, I saved you one. I wanted to get your opinion.”
She reached over to get the one last hidden sweet bun from a little cardboard box. Daniel raised his eyebrows as she brought it to his mouth. He bit into the roll, chewing thoughtfully, then he gave a little moan, his eyes closing as he savored the taste.
“What’s in these?” he asked, taking another bite of the bun in her hand, licking his lips. “Damn! Whoa. These are amazing!”
“Your cum gave me the idea,” she whispered into his ear, feeling his cock throb against her. “It was so sweet from the mead. And all that talk of buns and icing… I just put them all together.”
“Put what all together?” he asked through a mouth full of sticky bun.
“The buns and the icing and the mead, silly.” She laughed. “I added mead to the dough, and just a little bit to the icing. Can’t you taste the honey?”
“Mmmm I want to taste my honey.” He grinned, taking another big bite of the bun and tearing a bit off to feed it to her.
“When we get home tonight.” Sara smiled. Her mother was already gone. She’d packed her things and moved into her own apartment. She’d offered one of the bedrooms to her daughter, who had politely declined. Sara wasn’t leaving Daniel’s side, not ever again.
“I don’t think I can wait,” Daniel growled, sharing the last of the sticky bun as Sara’s fingers traced the line of his cock through his slacks. She licked his fingers, sucked them, and felt his cock jump.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as he scanned the kitchen—it was after hours, and they were alone—turning her and pushing her down an aisle of shelves filled floor to ceiling with condimen
ts and other boxed supplies.
“Daniel!” she gasped when he turned her to face the shelves and pressed her against them. Then, he crouched down, pulling up her long, flowing black skirt.
Once he let it fall over his head, she felt him pull her panties to her ankles. He immediately went to work biting, kissing and licking her ass, his hands moving around to her mound, rubbed over her there and up over her belly.
She kept looking around her, expecting someone to come in—with their luck, it would be John Vandersloot himself—but the kitchen remained empty. Finally, she gave into her body and Daniel’s will as he moved her thighs apart and his fingers opened her folds.
One long groan escaped from under her skirt as he licked at her, making her wet and yet lapping up her juices as she responded to him. She heard him growl between her legs and looked around again. All her senses heightened when he moved a finger up inside her. She gasped, feeling her inner walls clamp down around him.
“Please?” she begged. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him. Needed him. “Oh Daddy, please, please, fuck me!”
He growled at that, responding instantly, coming out from under her skirt. She glanced back at him, still crouched down and looking up at her, face glistening, like a naughty boy caught with his mouth buried in the sweetest pastry.
“We could get caught,” she warned, but he didn’t care, and she didn’t really care either.
He had her pressed up against the shelves, skirt hiked up again, his pants already dropped to his ankles as he pressed into her pussy from behind. The rush of it, doing this in a strange kitchen, the risk of getting caught, being with a man who’d acted as her father for years, having him fuck her—it all swirled in her head, flowing through her body, giving her something far beyond a sugar rush.
“Oh, baby, you feel so good.” He whispered this against her ear as he pumping his thick, hot length into her waiting, trembling cunt. She had been aching for this since that morning, dreaming of it, but never thought it would be like this. “I can’t wait to fuck that ass of yours when we get home tonight.”
