Daddy's Rich Enemy

“Mmm,” I purred. “Mmmm.”

But I wasn’t done yet. My palms rose until they squeezed my tits, those huge pendulous Double Ds, and I stroked the flesh sensuously.

“Daddy want to see?” I purred again. “Daddy want?”

The answer was instantaneous.

“Fuck yeah,” Grayson rumbled. “Fuck yeah, give me a look.”

Giggling a little, I pulled down on my décolletage, letting my right boob spill out. Holy shit, was I really doing this? Was I really taking off my clothes in front of a man, dancing seductively for him? Was I really here with Grayson Channing, King of the Strip, baring my boobies for him to see?

But the answer was a resounding yes. Because I wanted it. The way his eyes were glued to my tits felt good, the way his mouth literally dropped open with hunger. My pink crest was hard, stiff and aching, and I plucked at it teasingly.

“Daddy like?” I cooed. “Daddy like?”

The big man’s only answer was to swallow thickly.

“Fuck,” came his grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

I squeezed and massaged my breast even more, leaning forward so it dangled appetizingly.

“Oh look,” I giggled once more. “My tit’s moving in time to the music.”

And it was true. My big boobs were swinging to the left, and then to the right, like they could hear the sensuous samba playing outside.

But I wasn’t done yet because with a quick flick of my wrist, I popped my other breast out, this time both gazongas hanging pendulously.

“Mmm,” I purred. “Look Daddy, look how stiff I am for you.”

And rolling my nipples between my fingers, I demonstrated, corkscrewing off the tips with audible pops.

“Oooh! So hard, just for you.”

> By now, Grayson had his dick out. Oh yeah, he’d pulled his stiffie free and it waved in the air, beckoning to me. I danced over, pausing before him while taking a deep breath, eyes wide. Because holy smokes, that pole was huge. I’ve only seen male cock on my laptop screen, but Grayson had a rod that was like a porn star. Ten inches with the tip glistening wet, it quivered in the air, pointing straight at me.

“Daddy,” I murmured. “Is that really …?”

“It is,” he rasped. “It’s all for kitten.”

I cooed again.

“But I’m not sure,” I whispered. “This is just supposed to be dancing.”

He muttered thickly.

“You’ll be dancing,” he replied. “Dancing on my dick that is.”

And with that, all my defenses caved. Because yeah, I was acting like a ho. I was getting paid to have sex with this man, this incredibly attractive, powerful man, and it should have left me cold. It should have left me shuddering in my shoes, trading my pussy for cash.

But instead, I wanted it. I’m a wallflower, a curvy girl who’s a virgin still, and I wanted to feel his pole deep inside, to have it breach my innermost parts. I wanted to feel a man in me solid and hard, owning my female form. So taking a deep breath, I met his eyes again.

“Are you sure, big boy?” I murmured. “Maybe I’m more than you can handle.”

“Oh fuck yeah, I’m sure,” he ground out, eyes glued to my curves, that fuckrod literally shaking with lust, desperate to be in me. “Fuck yeah.”

And with that, he grabbed my curvy form, pulling my ass onto his lap. Relaxing for a moment, I sighed because it felt so good to be there. Grayson is at least twice my size, and sitting on his lap made me feel positively tiny by comparison. I cooed for a moment, leaning against the hard wall of his chest, those strong arms holding me close.

“Oh,” came my tiny murmur. “Oh.”