Bad Romance

“Not quite.” The man with the crowbar approaches. “Time to pop that cherry.”

“Hasn’t she been through enough?” my daddy barks.

“It’s okay, Daddy.” I cup his face in my hands. “I trust you to do it right.”

His mouth twitches, like he’s fighting to maintain his composure. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for him. He moves up my body. His cock is hard again and dripping precum. I reach for it, but the man with the crowbar waves me off.

“Get up, princess,” he says. “None of this boring missionary shit. Hands and knees.”

I turn over, rising on trembling limbs, and lift my ass in the air.

“Yeah. That’s better.”

My heart pounds; I

can feel the beats in the tips of my fingers and toes. My daddy nudges my legs apart, then positions himself behind me.

“Are you ready, Cara?”

I’m not, but I nod anyway.

“This is going to hurt a little,” he says. “Just breathe through it.”

I feel the head of his cock against my pussy lips, then the pain of being stretched as he eases into me. I whine and try to keep breathing, like he said, but the fit is incredibly tight. He goes slow, pushing a little at a time until he’s all the way inside me.

“Fucking Christ,” he groans.

His hands grasp my hips as he starts to thrust. My fingers grapple for the sheet as I fight to stay upright. The initial pain is barely an echo, and in its place is a welcome ache unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Acne Scars angles the phone beneath me so he can film my daddy’s cock sliding in and out from between my legs. I’ve been trying so hard to forget why we were doing this that seeing him again makes me shudder. Pressing my face to my daddy’s pillow, I turn my focus to the sensation of his cock filling me, and the sound of his heavy breathing.

His grip on my hips tightens as he fucks me hard. I moan like a siren. I can’t believe how good it feels to have my daddy’s cock pounding into me, especially considering the way it all came about. Regardless of the reason behind it, I can’t deny that it feels amazing. If one of the men were to suddenly call out, Cut, a part of me—specifically the part between my legs—would be very disappointed.

“You feel so good, Cara,” my daddy says. “Does it feel good to you?”

“Yeah. It feels good, Daddy. It feels really good.”

My daddy grasps my shoulders with both hands, using them for leverage so he can ram me hard. I cry out with each piercing thrust, my pussy aching and desperate to come. My muscles tighten as another orgasm slices through me, sharp and sudden.

“Fuck,” my daddy grunts; he must be able to feel it. He fucks me with short, quick jabs until his cock swells and then he shoves in deep, smacking my ass and shooting his cum.

“Damn, that’s good stuff,” says Acne Scars. “Outta the way, Senator. This is the money shot.”

I whimper as my daddy pulls out. The guy brings the camera close to my pussy.

“Mmm, check out that creampie.”

Gazing through the tunnel created by my limbs and my front body, I watch my daddy’s cum drip out of me and onto the bed. The cameraman hums with pleasure. I’m too exhausted to cringe.

“Well,” says the guy with the crowbar. “Thanks for the show, sweetheart. Senator, we’ll be in touch.”

The two men leave the room, the crowbar aimed at my daddy just in case he tries to follow. But he doesn’t. We’re both too tired and dumbfounded by what’s just happened.

“Are you okay, Cara?”

I swallow. “I don’t know.”

My daddy pulls me close and rocks me like a baby. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”