by Maren Smith
My body responded in kind. Thinking back, I’d nearly gotten hard a number of times throughout the morning, sometimes for an actual reason—like seeing the outline of Malcolm’s erection at the breakfast table—and sometimes for no real reason at all—like when I’d reached for the car and my dick shifted in the snug briefs. I hadn’t put enough thought into it at the time, but looking back, I’d definitely liked the way I’d been reminded that my Daddy had dressed me, and as crazy as it might have sounded to someone else, I’d felt sexy. Well, maybe sexy wasn’t the right word, but I’d felt cute, and the way Malcolm’s eyes had raked over my body a number of times, had in turn made me feel sexy.
Now that I could see and process that Malcolm had enjoyed it, and even afterward, he found me desirable, I couldn’t deny my own arousal at the situation. My dick began to thicken once again, and I didn’t ignore it or try to make it go down. Instead, I traced a finger up Malcolm’s length and batted my eyes at him. “Take me to bed, Daddy.”
Malcolm’s nose flared. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He pushed me up, then grunted when his knee popped loudly as he stood. “I’d take you here on the couch, but there’s no lube, and I’d rather be able to stretch you out and take my time with you.”
Neither of us were particular about who topped and who bottomed, but Malcolm was still in caretaker mode, and it didn’t surprise me in the least that he wanted to be an in-charge top, but as his boy, it was my job to drive him nuts. And as long as I didn’t drive him so insane I didn’t get to cum, I would have fun. I just needed to be careful not to push him too far, I’d definitely gone far enough down the rabbit hole that morning to know that Daddies could totally prevent their boys from cumming.
I hurried up the steps, Malcolm hot on my heels, making it to the bedroom at almost the exact same time as I did. I reached for my shirt to yank it over my head, but he stopped me with a stern glare and shake of his head. “Oh, no. I want to strip you.”
As much I wanted to roll my eyes, I knew this was not the battle to fight. I might not have been little in that moment, but he was still every bit my Daddy. I was pretty sure I had read that Daddy was a state of being, not just a title, and Malcolm had clearly embraced it. I took a step forward and ran my finger down his chest, shooting him a mischievous smirk. “Then undress me, Daddy.”
His nostrils flared again, and a low growl emanated from deep in his chest. Who’d have thought being growled at would be sexy? Instead of responding with words, he gripped the hem of my shirt and worked it up until I had to raise my arms so he could remove it. A feather light touch down my sternum and center of my abs had my muscles quivering and my knees feeling weak. I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking of anything and everything I could to not rush him. Feeling worshiped was sexy as sin. My dick was getting impatient, and uncomfortable, in my briefs.
“Dammit, Mal! Undress me already. You’re killing me.”
Shit, wrong thing to say, and I knew it as soon as the words were out of my mouth. He leaned forward and traced the wolf tattoo on my pec. At the time, I’d not been able to tell the world how incredibly proud I was of him, but I’d been able to get the logo of his first NFL team tattooed on me. I’d felt closer to him every game he played after that. And under his T-shirt, I’d find a tattoo of the bobcat logo on his chest—the first NFL team I’d played for.
“Oh, I will take all the time I want.” He flicked my nipple with his tongue, and I gasped, my hips rocking forward trying to find friction against anything. But my dick was not going to take much more confinement. It was already hard and leaking precum.
He bit down, just hard enough for me to feel it, and I screamed. Fuck the shorts, they were held up with a drawstring and they needed to come off immediately if not sooner. I reached for the waistband and shoved them down, only to be greeted by a hand making contact with my backside. Electricity from the spank shot through my body, connecting that spot to my dick and it jerked hard in my pants. Sure, we’d role played before. Malcolm had spanked me in the past, but it had never brought me so close to the edge so quickly.
“Fuck!” I grit out, my hips bucking into the air. “If you want in me, you had best not do that again.”
Malcolm’s eyes turned a steely gray. “You had best not cum before I’m in you.”
Dammit, the man was too good at this.
“Do not touch yourself.”
It was my turn to growl low in my chest. “Asshole.”
In return, Malcolm nuzzled his nose into my neck. “You love it. Let Daddy take care of you.”
My growl turned into a hum of pleasure, and I couldn’t even try to pretend the words didn’t affect me. My neck lifted involuntarily, allowing him to nip and suck at the tender spot at my pulse point. I’d probably have a bruise there for the next few days, and the guys would rib me mercilessly, but hopefully it would fade by the first game the following Sunday. I really wanted to find some fucks to give, but I couldn’t seem to.
After what felt like an eternity, strong hands gripped the waistband of my underwear and he pulled them down my thighs, allowing them to fall to the floor so I could step out of them. My cock sprung out in front of me as soon as my underwear were down. Malcolm’s callused thumb traced over my slit, gathering the precum that had collected there. “I love how much precum you produce.” Then he brought his thumb to his lips and licked it.
In return, I flopped onto the bed and very un-sexily presented my ass. “Stretch me. Fuck me. Fill me.” My words were muffled as I spoke into the comforter.
I could hear Malcolm moving around the room and turned my head in time to see his pants hit the floor beside my clothes. He’d already lost his shirt, and his cock was every bit as hard as mine, though where mine was already making a puddle on our comforter, Malcolm’s head was red and angry and looked like he was near exploding as he languidly stroked himself.
“That is not how a good boy asks his Daddy.”
Holy mother of pearl, those words should not have been that sexy. Of course, the words that came out of my mouth were probably not what Daddy wanted either. “If my Daddy really loved me, he wouldn’t leave me so hard and aching for so long.”
Malcolm’s bark of laughter was loud for the space. “So long? Ry, baby, it’s been ten minutes. You are not going to die of erotic withdrawal any time in the near future.”
I lifted up onto my elbows and turned my head so I could look him in the eyes. “Is that a risk you really want to take with your boy?”
“Drama queen.” At least he moved to the drawer where we kept the lube. My eyes widened as he hesitated at the drawer. If he got the silicone lube, he’d be preparing to stretch me for the next hour. Please don’t get the silicone lube, please don’t get the silicone lube, I silently begged, hoping to telepathically get through to him that I didn’t want foreplay, I wanted filled and fucked. My sanity couldn’t take being stretched for that long.
I collapsed onto my chest, ass still up in the air, when he finally produced the bottle of water-based lube. I wasn’t going to be put through stretching hell. “Oh yes. Fuck me, Daddy.” Those words should have sounded ridiculous, but instead, they sounded desperate, nearly sweet. I was starting to understand what people liked about Daddy relationships. And the way Malcolm responded to me when I called him Daddy was addictive.
The snick of the lube bottle made me jump as Malcolm took position behind me. “I know what you need, Ry. Relax.”
“What I need is your dick in my ass.”
“Ryyyy.” The way he managed to drag my name out to three syllables was impressive. Could you hear an eye roll? “I’m not entering you without stretching you well.”
Of course he wouldn’t. Malcolm was the king of caretaking. “What if your boy needs to be fucked hard and fast?” If it would work, I’d play up being his boy.
“Ryder, if you keep trying to get me to enter you without prep, I’m going to get the silicone lube.”
My eyes widened and my mouth started moving before my brai
n. “I’ll be a good boy, Daddy. Promise!”
The words had barely left my mouth and I heard Malcolm groan behind me. I was glad my face was mostly buried in the blanket and he was far more focused on my hole because I couldn’t help the way I grinned knowing I’d affected him so deeply. Instead of a finger pressing against my rim, a smack landed on one of my ass cheeks. “What the!” I yelped, my body jumping from the bed.
“You better be good, or you’re going to get a lot more of that and far less of this.” He pressed a lubed finger to my hole, sinking his entire finger into me. My yelp of pain quickly turned into a moan of pleasure, shutting up every other protest I could have made about getting a spanking. Smugness filled Malcolm’s voice. “I thought you’d see it my way.” Then he pushed in and out of me a few times, causing my knees to shake.
My cock dripped more precum, and I didn’t care about the puddle forming below me—I’d already resigned myself to needing to change the blankets when we were done.
Malcolm’s voice came from right behind my head, so close I could feel his breath grazing my ear. “Mmhmm, that’s my good boy.”
Two days ago, those words would have made me turn my nose up. I wouldn’t have understood. Today, they wrapped around me like a blanket and made me want to do anything to hear more of them. And if hearing more of them led to his dick in my ass, well, that was just an added bonus.
I pushed back, trying to get his fingers deeper. “Please. More. Please.” The pleas were falling from my lips so quickly I couldn’t stop them if I’d tried. I wanted more. I wanted faster. I wanted harder. I really wanted his dick in my ass, burning and pain be damned. But that wasn’t how my husband worked, and it wasn’t how my Daddy would either. I bit my lip to keep in my frustration at being denied, even for a short time.
When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, that I’d snap like a toothpick, a second finger brushed the skin of my hole, begging to be let in. I gasped as his fingertip breached me and just as quickly my body swallowed it. “Oh, oh, ohhhh...” My moan trailed off as I adjusted to the fullness. His fingers were so big that just two often left me feeling full to the point of bursting for a moment.
Malcolm’s free hand rubbed my hip gently. “That’s it, baby, relax. Let Daddy in.”
My muscles contracted, not because I was in pain but because I nearly came. The combination of his gentle voice, his erotic words, and his fingers barely twitching inside me had me about to cum without ever touching myself. “Gonna,” I gasped only to find his hand leaving my hip and grabbing the base of my dick and balls tightly. I gasped again, in surprise.
“Oh no, you are not cumming until I’m inside you.”
If he hadn’t had his hand wrapped so tightly around me, I absolutely would have cum on the spot. Instead, he held my erection in a vise-like grip until I slipped from the edge and my body began to relax again. “Fuck,” was the only word my brain could find when the urge to orgasm finally passed.
Malcolm finally released my cock, trailing his fingers lightly up my hip to come back to rest on my side. “Good job. I know that wasn’t easy.”
The sheen of sweat that had broken out across my forehead and back spoke to that. “Please, Mal. I need you in me. Please.” I adjusted so I was resting on my forearms, my head hung between my arms.
In response, he wiggled his fingers inside me, sending jolts of pleasure through my body as he grazed my prostate a number of times. “Patience, Ry. Patience.” His lips grazed my shoulders, his breath against my damp skin bringing goosebumps to the surface.
My patience was worn thin. I needed to come so badly my cock actually ached and my balls were already drawn up tight to my body, but Malcolm didn’t seem to be in a rush.
The only noises I could bring myself to make were moans and low, needy whimpers as he stretched me to the point that I was pretty sure I could take anything he decided to push into me. But when his fingers, as thick as they were, were replaced with the blunt head of his cock, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Even after a decade together, the feeling never got old. Sure, it had changed over the years, but it was always special. Each new chapter of our relationship made it different, yet still like coming home.
Malcolm entered me slowly, allowing my body to adjust to his size. For a few long seconds, I lay there, allowing Malcolm to set the pace, giving my body a chance to relax. But once he was seated inside me, his balls resting against my ass, I had to move. There was no way I’d be able to stay still and let him guide my pleasure. My channel stretched to fit him perfectly, my muscles relaxed, and the slight burn eased and turned into an all-encompassing pleasure.
Finally, I couldn’t take any more and I pushed back, forcing him farther inside me. “Ryyyy,” Malcolm warned, his deep, sexy growl sending more furls of electricity through my body.
“You can’t just stay inside me like this,” I complained, inching forward and trying to find the exact angle so he’d nail my prostate.
His answering growl only served to heighten my need. “I can if I want to.”
I rocked forward then pushed back hard, my ass hitting his lower stomach. “Fine, stay there and I’ll do all the work.”
Malcolm’s gravelly voice broke and he laughed. “You are being a brat.” The affection in his voice told me he wasn’t upset, simply amused and unsure what to do with me. He moved the hand that had been resting on my lower back, and I knew it was time to brace myself. He used a hand to grip my hip, making sure he had a firm hold on either side of me, and I instinctively raised up on my hands.
His fingers dug into my sides, hard enough to leave little bruises. “Ha-a-hh-hh,” my voice came out in a staccato rhythm as Malcolm slammed us together again and again. When I felt like my skin was crawling with the need to cum, I reached below me, searching for my dick.
The voice behind me drew me to a stop before I’d made contact. “Mine.”
Holy shit. Possessive, dominant Malcolm was hot as hell, and my hand fell back to the bed just as he released my right side and reached below me to grab my dick.
“You gonna cum for Daddy, Ry?” Somehow, his voice came out silky smooth, and shivers ran up and down my spine.
My head bobbed up and down as I focused on staying on my hands and knees. Then I felt the bed dip as Malcolm adjusted himself to rest his leg on the mattress beside my left hip. The next thrust in brought his cock in direct contact with my prostate. Fireworks exploded behind my eyelids and the world narrowed to a pinprick in front of me. “Unghhhhh. I. Yes.” I tried to warn him that I was going to cum, but I couldn’t get my brain and my mouth to work together enough to form an intelligible word, much less a sentence.
Then he delivered another direct hit to my prostate and growled the words I’d been desperate to hear since before he’d entered me. “Cum, baby.”
The most powerful orgasm I could remember crashed over me, sending rope after rope of cum shooting over Malcolm’s hand and our bed. I was vaguely aware of my chants of “Daddy,” and begging him to fill me. My orgasm finally faded to twitches and jerks as Malcolm milked everything out of me. I felt his punishing pace slow before he jerked hard and stopped, his cock pulsing in my channel as he came with a grunt.
His orgasm subsided, and he collapsed on my back, panting like he’d just run a marathon. We rolled over as one, his cock slipping nearly out of me, and landed with a joint “umph” on our sides. The bedspread was worse than I’d imagined, but I didn’t have it in me to care at the moment. It was still early enough that we had plenty of time to change it… hopefully I’d feel my legs again by that point.
I heaved in breaths just as deeply as Malcolm did, and his hand came to rest on my flat stomach, fingers splayed across me, as he held me close. “You okay, baby?”
“Mmm.” I needed to find more words, but at the moment it was all I had. I closed my eyes and focused on steadying my breathing. “That was seriously hot.”
“You’re going to be walking funny,” Malcolm joked as he kissed my shoulder.<
br />
“Hopefully Coach goes easy on us tomorrow.”
Malcolm laughed, though it sounded a bit more like a wheeze as he hadn’t fully regained control of his voice. “Don’t count on it.”
“Well then, maybe Daddy will.”
“My boy would like that, wouldn’t he?” His fingers wiggled across my skin causing me to laugh and my body to jerk in response. The motion had his cock sliding fully out of me and the force of my laugh pushed his cum from my hole.
I winced but couldn’t stop the laugh. The bedding was already ruined, so I wasn’t concerned, but Malcolm noticed immediately. “Let me get you cleaned up, Ry.” Despite his own exhaustion, he got up and headed to our bathroom.
I would have told him not to worry about it, a shower would take care of any crusty bits, but my eyes were heavy and my mind was working slowly. In what felt like the blink of an eye, Daddy was back. “Let’s get my boy cleaned up.” He stood on the side of the bed wearing his sweats again and looking relaxed and rejuvenated.
“Daddy,” I whined, wishing I could close my eyes and sleep. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I’d just called him Daddy, but in that moment—outside of sex, outside of playtime—I knew it was right. Malcolm was Daddy. Had it not been for him finding my pacifier, we might have gone our entire lives without ever discovering something was missing. Now that we had it, I knew I wanted to keep it. This was right.
My husband, my lover, my best friend, my Daddy. One man held so many titles and each one of them was special, each one unique. As the cloth cleaned my stomach, my softened dick, and then my ass, my eyes drooped shut.
A moment later, a gentle kiss was placed to my forehead, and I felt the familiar silicone nipple of my pacifier tease at my lips. I parted my mouth enough to allow it to slip in. The last thing I remembered before drifting off to sleep was Malcolm brushing my bangs from my forehead and whispering a goodnight. “Sleep well, Ry.”
The End
