Call Me Daddy

“That’s it,” he whispers, and his thumbs stroke back and forth, tiny little movements that sends little sparkles all the way down to my clit. My nipples are hard, his thumbs catching, and I gasp again when he stops. I really don’t want him to stop.

He lifts my top up and over my head. My hair swishes as the fabric pulls free, and I feel so exposed, standing before him with my little nipples poking out through my bra.

His hands are so hot on my bare stomach, skin tingling as his fingers sweep up my ribs. I find myself leaning back, rolling my shoulders to show more of myself than is really there, but his hands cup my little breasts, and nothing can hide how small they are. He thumbs again. Back and forth again. I’m clenching my thighs again, with quiet little gasps coming out with my breaths.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, and his hands snake to my back. A flash of nerves as he unhooks the clasp, and my bra falls free. He drops it to the floor, and I look down at myself as he stares. My nipples are hard little peaks. They look so pink against my pale skin.

“You have such beautiful breasts, Laine. Beautiful.”

I love the way he sounds so… mature.

In control. He sounds so in control.

“Thanks,” I say, and I’m biting my lip as he rolls my little tits in his fingers, squeezing flesh that is barely there, tugging at nipples that send crazy sparks right through me.

He groans, and it’s so horny I can feel it in my pussy. “Such pretty little tits, Laine. Sweet little nipples, so pink. They’re perfect. I knew they’d be perfect.”

I make a little squeak that I hope sounds grateful.

“Look,” he says, and I do. I stare down at him playing with my nipples, and his hands seem so big, his fingers so strong as they pinch and pluck and flick at me. “Divine,” he says. “You’re simply divine, little Laine.”

He tugs at them again and my clit sparks so crazily that I think I could come. Right here, right now, still in my jeans with nothing but his hands on my tits. My clit’s fluttering so hard I’m clenching my thighs, over and over, rocking my hips to press myself against the denim seam.

“Good girl,” he says. “Tell me that feels good.”

I nod. “It feels really good.”

He presses his knee to my thighs and I gasp as he makes me part them. He hitches me onto him, his thigh hot and firm between mine, and his hand grips my ass, encourages me to grind myself as his other hand presses to my ribs, coaxes me to arch my back.

Unsteady. I feel unsteady. But it feels too good to care.

I rub myself against Nick’s thigh as my little tits stand proud for him. His breath is in my face, hot and steady as he presses my nipple and circles, and it feels so good I’m not nervous anymore. I moan as he twists and pinches, and I’m asking for more, asking for harder, and I don’t even know what I want, I just want more.

He hitches me tighter against him, and I feel him. Feel his hardness against my belly. I rub myself faster, pressing myself tight, hoping he likes the way it feels, hoping he feels horny like I do. And he must, because his breathing gets faster, and his fingers get rougher, squeezing at my tit until I suck in breath.

“Yes…” I grip at his shoulders for leverage. “Please…”

“That’s my good girl,” he growls. “My sweet little horny girl.”

I can’t stop. Rubbing myself against him so fast. The denim of my jeans straining and the ridge of his dick feeling so big against my tummy.

“I’m gonna…” I begin, but I can’t finish. I don’t think I can say it. “I think I’m gonna…”

“Come,” he says. “Come for me like a good girl, Laine. Come for me!”

And I do.

My clit does that fluttery thing that makes me gasp in breath, and I’m clenching and making little noises and rubbing so hard.

I’m humping Nick’s leg like I’m on heat, and he wants it. I feel his dick tensing, pressing so hard.

He pinches my nipples, one after the other and I squeal for more, and then a tremor runs through me.

I shudder and squeak and rub and cry out, and I’ve never orgasmed like this. Never so hard.

He groans, and his hand is clammy against my back, his breath hot against my face as I slump against him, trying to gather my breath. Trying to gather my scattered thoughts.

“Good girl,” he rasps, and I love it. I love it when he calls me that.

My heart is racing so fast I start giggling.

“That was amazing,” I tell him. “Thank you. Wow, just… wow.”