Chapter Eleven
Rosie
I don’t know what it is about this Daddy thing, but I’m soaking wet.
Professor Wilder tugs my hips closer to his rock-hard cock. “Daddy needs you to follow directions again tonight. Can you do that, little girl? Can you listen to Daddy?”
“Yes!” I gulp down air as I slide off his lap and stare toward him, waiting for my orders. God, I love this. I love knowing he’ll take charge, be rough and wild, all while being gentle with my heart.
“Good girl.” He leans forward and tugs at my clothes, peeling them off my body like a doll he’s meaning to redress.
“When you do what Daddy asks, you make him feel important.” His rough palm scratches up the inside of my thigh, over my stomach, and onto my tits.
“I want you to feel important too. Do you like it when I worship your body like this?” He drops to his knees and stares up at me.
“Answer Daddy, baby girl. Does it make you feel important when I worship you like this?”
My pulse rockets in my ear as my chest squeezes. “Yes,” I manage, squeezing my thighs together as my pussy pulses. “I feel so important, Daddy.”
“Good,” he growls before leaning in, kissing my thighs, my stomach, my seam, before sliding his thick fingers inside of me.
I don’t know how to reconcile what I’m feeling anymore. It’s too grand, too warm, too incredible. It’s like there’s nothing I can say or do that will ever add up to this amazing… whatever I’m trying to feel with him.
His warm mouth suctions over my clit and his tongue flicks slowly at my slit. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt.
My thighs twitch and ache, squeezing around his face as I dig my fingers into his shoulders for grip. “Oh, Daddy, right there.”
He buries his face further, eating, growling, licking like he’s a starving man.
“Oh, sweet girl, you’re soaking wet for Daddy.” He leans up from my crease and stares at me with that feral look in his eyes that I can’t get enough of. “Daddy loves your little wet pussy, and you taste so good, like you’ve been eating your fruit.”
My voice cracks with a soft sigh as my thighs shake.
He kisses my thighs. “And you’re shaking, little girl. Why are you shaking? Are you ready to come?”
I swallow hard and stare down at the man that teaches my philosophy class. “I don’t know what I need, Daddy.”
He grins slowly and licks my seam before standing again. “I think you need to work yourself on Daddy’s cock. He needs to see those pretty tits bouncing. Can you do that? Can you bounce on Daddy’s cock, little girl?”
I’m pretty sure I’m dripping come at this point. How could I not?
He lays a soft blanket out before the fireplace, then undresses. His hard chest. His rigid cock. His strong, muscular arms.
A moan catches in my throat as I watch him lower to the ground, his ink-covered body glistening in the amber light as he motions me forward. “Come on, baby girl. Bounce on Daddy’s lap.”
My heart is warm, but my body is hotter. My hands in his, I lower myself onto his massive cock slowly, taking him in inch by inch as he groans this guttural, satisfied groan that wakes my belly up and makes me hungry for more.
“You’re soaked and slippery.” He grips my hips as I spread wider and wider for him. “You look so fucking good, baby girl. Those big tits everyone in that fucking class wants… they’re mine.” He reaches up and drags my shirt down, pinching each nipple as I bounce.
“Look at them, jiggling around for me. Those perky, little tits. I can’t wait until your belly is full with my baby and your tits are dripping milk. Are you going to let Daddy taste your milk, sweet girl?”
My clit pulses against his cock with every filthy thing he says.
“Yes, Daddy. My body belongs to you. I’ll do whatever you say.”
He lifts me slightly as I’m bouncing, throwing me off a little before he grips my hips tighter.
“Oh, honey, that’s right. This little body belongs to me.” He thrusts himself up into me, his balls crashing against me as he moves.
“I belong to you, Daddy.” I grind my hips against his hard cock and weave my fingers into the hair on his chest. “I belong to you, and I want you. I want to stay with you. I want to love you.”
“Fuck!” he growls out low and hard. “I want to love you too, sweetheart. Are you going to let Daddy love you?”
“Yes, Daddy!” I bounce harder as he says it again and again.
“I love you, baby girl.” He growls and thrusts upward as he exclaims, “I love you so fucking much!”
“Fill me up, Daddy! I need your come!” My voice is ragged, my tits are swinging, and my heart slams against my chest so hard I’m sure it’s going to stop.
“That’s right. Tell Daddy what you want. Use your words and tell Daddy how you like to be treated while you rub your little clit for me.”
Lord help me.
My clit is like silk, soft and swollen, as I scrub my finger around and around, bouncing as fast as I can. My thighs burn, but I don’t stop. My tits rise and fall, swing and sway, as he watches and growls, his rough hand on my hip supporting the motion.
“I need you to fill me up and tell me what a good girl I am.” I swallow hard as I continue to bounce.
“Oh, baby. Hold on to Daddy, ‘cause I’m about to fill that little pussy right now!” His chest tightens and his voice constricts as he yells, “You’re my good girl! My good fucking girl!”
I don’t know how much time passes, but I know I’m lost to it as my stomach tightens and my thighs ache, pressure building to a sudden explosion as I come hard all over my Daddy’s cock. A symphony of pain and pleasure.
“That’s right, baby girl. Soak your Daddy. I want your mess all over me.” He growls low and rough as though he’s on the edge, then somewhere during my erratic convulsions he releases, spilling his seed inside of me for the second time today.
I continue to squirm, my body still releasing its own pent-up energy on top of him as I breathe in the scent of pine and sweat.
“Lick Daddy off, baby,” he growls. “Clean Daddy’s cock.”
I’ve just come, but the sound of his demands makes my clit throb all over again.
Slowly, I slip off his coated cock and slide between his legs, dragging my tongue from his balls to the tip. He’s salty-sweet, the combination of the both of us melded together on his hard cock. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like the taste of myself, but I do. Together we’re like honey and salt.
He jumps as I take him into my throat, his hips meeting my shoulders as he pulses upward. I gag on his length and stroke his thickness, doing my best to emulate what I’ve seen in porn.
“Oh fuck,” he growls somewhere deep in his belly, “right there. Right fucking there. Wash me up, baby. Get Daddy’s cock nice and clean.”
When he starts jumping and wincing, I figure he’s had all he can take.
“Come here, honey.” He reaches for me, cradling me in his arms with the gentle sigh of a man whose urges have been quelled. “You’re such a good girl. You made Daddy’s cock feel so good.”
I sigh against his chest, warming myself in the soft crook of his strong arm. “I don’t want this to end.”
“That’s good,” he groans sleepily, “because you promised I could keep you.”
“You can keep me,” I say, my eyes closing as he grabs another blanket from the couch and pulls it over the both of us. “You can keep me forever.”
The fuzzy fabric of the blanket covers us as I stay tucked into my giant’s arms on the pine wood floor. I didn’t know safety and warmth like this existed.
How could this be real? How could I feel so safe with someone I’ve only known for a few months? How could I know without a shadow of a doubt that this man wouldn’t hurt me and that he only wants to protect me?
For a second, I wonder again if I’m losing my mind. If this isn’t some kind of delusion, it’s probably a hormonal haze. Plenty of philosophers talk about it. But as I lay here, eyes closing, heart warm, I can’t help but picture our life together.
A little house in the woods, a dog or two, and my own practice right here in Rugged Mountain.
Daddy and I on the back porch drinking coffee, talking about philosophical ideals and how they relate to psychology.
The kids ramming around in the yard playing with the chickens and the horses.
I can almost hear the screen door creak, smell the morning dew on the grass, and feel his hand resting over mine like it belongs there.
It’s a life so gentle and steady it almost hurts to imagine it. A life where laughter echoes off the trees and I’m not bracing for the next disaster. A life where love actually feels like love.
It sounds perfect, and as I drift off to sleep, I’m sure I’m going to have the best night ever… until the phone rings and everything changes.