21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Martina
I brace myself against the shower wall. Lowering himself, he grabs my hips and pulls me over his cock, filling me with his glorious hardness. I can’t believe how much I want this. He sinks himself farther until he’s balls deep inside of me. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but it’s still feels good. I can take it as long as he’s not too rough.
And he’s not. He pulls his hips back and rocks forward slowly. I shiver. For several minutes, he takes his time. I’m torn. Part of me wants to barrel towards the orgasm I’ve been dying for. Part of me wants this to last forever.
My body trembles with every roll of the hips. I can’t imagine anything feeling better than Vincent, at least not physically. There’s no denying it. He drives my body crazy.
He picks up the pace a little while still making sure he buries himself to the hilt each thrust. I release a low moan.
“You like it like that, baby girl?” he asks.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He groans. “You sound so hot when you talk like that.”
Without prompting, I say, “Daddy fucks his little girl so good.”
I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Tell me more.”
“I love how my daddy fucks me. Especially when I’ve been a bad girl.”
He shoves into me harder. “Have you been a bad girl?”
“Yes, because all I think about is fucking my daddy, how badly I want him to fuck me.”
With a grunt, he thrusts harder.
“All I want is to come on his cock,” I say.
At that, he reaches for my clit. The sensation of being filled by him while having my clit fondled overwhelms me with delight. The orgasm I thought was a little ways away rushes forward. With a cry and intense shaking, I fall apart on his cock.
Grabbing both my hips, he slams into me, nearly plowing me into the wall. Each shove sends me to my toes. The sound of his pelvis smacking into my ass echoes off the shower walls. My hands slip, but he holds me up as easily as he would’ve a rag doll. With a final burst of intense bucking, he reaches his climax. Liquid heat fills my insides, along with relief.
I want to crumble to the floor, but he gathers me and holds me in his arms beneath the rain of water. This is different. I don’t know what to make of it.
“You want to finish dinner or you want another orgasm?” he asks.
I should choose dinner, but I hesitate.
“Orgasm it is,” he decides for me, turning the shower lever so that the water comes out the handheld showerhead.
Whipping me around, he shoves me against the shower wall. He kicks my feet apart so that my legs are spread. Detaching the showerhead, he aims it at my shoulders and upper back before slowly moving to my lower back and the top of my ass. I feel the warm liquid flowing down my crack. Standing behind me, he reaches around and grabs a breast, kneading and tugging the flash. My pussy throbs in response.
Touch my clit , I will him.
With the showerhead, he sprays my backside and my inner thighs.
Closer , I urge.
He aims the water everywhere it seems except where I want him to. But I can’t do anything about it. I can’t grab the showerhead from him or even complain without risking an undesired consequence. Is he waiting for me to beg?
“How badly do you want this orgasm?” he asks
Dammit. I knew I should’ve chosen dinner. I reach for my clit. If he isn’t going to do it…
But he grabs my hand and slaps it against the wall .
“I did not say you could touch yourself,” he says.
“You always this bossy to the women you fuck?” I say before thinking.
“Yes,” he answers, sounding amused by my question.
“I hope you get reincarnated as an Omega, then maybe you’d be less of an asshole.”
“I love it when you talk back to me. Gives Daddy a reason to punish his little girl.”
Uh oh.
He replaces the handheld showerhead and looks around. “Now let’s see what we can do here.”
He picks up my blouse and wrings out some of the water. Grabbing my wrists, he ties them together in front of me with one sleeve. He ties the other sleeve to the rainfall showerhead centered above, pulling my arms straight above me. Grabbing my panties, he squeezes some of the water out before stuffing them into my mouth.
“No more talking back to daddy,” he warns with a wicked smile.
He rings out most of the water from his shirt, which he uses as a whip, smacking it against a breast. I jump. He whacks the other breast. Dammit. How can damp shirt hurt so much? He aims the shirt at my buttocks next, striking them half a dozen times. I groan. I knew better. Why did I have to say anything to him?
Tossing the shirt onto the shower bench, he takes the showerhead, which is still running. “Spread ’em.”
I spread my legs as far as I can, which isn’t much without dangling from the showerhead. I don’t know how much weight it can take.
Seeing that, he stands behind me and lifts my right leg with his free hand before aiming the shower between my legs.
Finally!
The warm water sprays against my pussy and clit. It feels great. He brings the showerhead closer to me, increasing the force hitting my body .
Yes, yes!
The nearness of his body to mine—at times I brush against his hardening cock—his forearm cradling my leg beneath the knee, and the steam swirling around us add to my mounting desire.
“I’m going to be nice and give you an out, a choice,” he says, lowering the showerhead, to my disappointment. “Your real name or more spanking. Nod if you want to give me your name. Shake your head if you want the spanking.”
Fucker. He’s always putting me between a rock and a hard place. At least he’s not trying to get me to name Brady.
“Do I get to come either way?” I try to ask.
Setting down my leg, he removes the panties so I can repeat the question.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he answers.
Double fucker.
He stuffs the panties back into my mouth. Putting back the showerhead, he grabs the shirt again. Standing in front of me, he says, “You realize I’m going to figure out who you really are anyway. ”
I realize I’m probably not making the smarter choice, but I can handle a spanking.
The subsequent whack makes me think I might eat my words. The shirt hits me everywhere: my legs, my ass, my breasts, my belly, my mound, my arms. His backhands are the worst. That’s when the impact stings in addition to the deeper thudding pain.
“Change your mind?” he asks.
I shake my head. I’ve come this far.
“Let’s do some old fashioned spanking then.”