The Fighter's Prize

Maxim leans in. “Your friends include boys.”

“And?”

“And I know how they think.”

I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Fine. I will.” Maxim pauses, swallows loud enough for me to hear. “They’re just thinking of ways to get up your tight-ass skirt.”

“Dad!”

“It’s true. All they want in life is you flat on your back, little girl.” For some reason those two words send a rush of wetness to my sex. Maxim’s voice grows rougher. “I was young once. Nothing about boys has changed.”

“Fine…” My fingers tighter around the script. “Let’s say I do end up flat on my back. What business is it of yours, Daddy?”

Maxim swallows a groan and rubs the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants. “Everything is Daddy’s business when it comes to you.”

I cross my legs and toss my hair. “Not everything.”

“Oh yes, little girl.” Maxim reaches over and uncrosses my legs. “Everything.”

Heat spreads like a wildfire in my belly, my loins. “That’s not in the script.”

Maxim doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he stands and kneels in front of me. Thanks to the extra-high platform bed, this puts his mouth on level with the hem of my dress. “I know what will make these young boys less appealing. If your first tongue is an experienced one.” He flips up my dress and slides my knees apart. “Would you like that? Would you like to feel what a man can do with your little girl pussy?”

My fingers clutch the bedclothes, the muscles of my sex contracting. This role is like coming home, handing over control, knowing I’ll be cared for. “I-I don’t know, Daddy,” I whine, writhing on the soft comforter.

“These legs are spread pretty wide for someone who doesn’t know.” He thumbs my clit, nips the inside of my thigh with his teeth. “We can have our own parties right here, little girl. With your bedroom door locked tight. You don’t have to leave home to end up flat on your back.”

I’m already moaning the first time he licks me. He doesn’t bother to move aside the G-string. No, he uses it to his advantage. Taking the ultra-thin strap between his lips and dragging it side to side over my clit, pulling the string back and letting it snap down onto my sex. Over and over until my back is arched, my lower body twisting to escape to exquisite agony. “Oh. Oh. Oh! Please don’t stop.”

“Shhh,” he breathes, pressing a thick finger into my opening, rotating it slowly, teasing that coarse spot only he knows about or can find. “So very fucking tight, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, curses. “Can’t blame these boys for trying. But this is all Daddy’s.”

Lust pierces my belly like an arrow and I spin into a climax.

My fingers tear at the comforter, eyes almost too blind to make out the ceiling. Maxim laps at me feverishly, his thumb moving in quick strokes on top of my clit. His shoulders are a beautiful rippling testament to masculinity, his dark head buried between my thighs and all I can do is gasp for air, sobbing brokenly as my intimate muscles contract and release, dampness streaking down my thighs, between the cheeks of my backside.

I’m struggling for oxygen, dew coating my forehead, satisfied beyond belief.

Until Maxim stands to his full height at the bottom of the bed and licks me off his lips crudely, his eyes black with hunger, and another wave of longing travels through me, sparking my nerve endings, curling my toes. “You open legs for Daddy, da?” Maxim unzips his jeans with a deft hand, reaches in and grips himself. “Now this becomes your business.”

He yanks me closer until my hips are almost falling off the edge of the bed and he pins me there with my legs wide open, sliding his thick shaft between my folds, over my still-buzzing clit and I just have to lay there and take it, panting as he teases me, exploits my arousal, drives it back to a fever pitch, mewling sounds breaking past my lips. I feel small and coveted, like a favorite plaything, my much larger master amusing himself with me. And when he spears into my opening, filling me with a throaty moan, I become essential to him.

The veins in his neck and shoulders stand out, the muscles of his biceps and abdomen straining. Instinctively, I know he is trying not to orgasm too soon and that makes me feel powerful even though I’m the one being dominated.

Maxim loops his arms beneath my legs and falls forward, bringing my knees up to my shoulders, positioning his shaft even deeper inside of me. A shudder wracks him and he starts to thrust slowly, as if savoring every entry and exit, his breath sawing in and out of his throat.