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You’re so good for him.
Kneeling patiently, hands folded in your lap demurely, shoulders rounded and soft. Running his thumb along the line of your jaw, you sigh, the sound crushed velvet from your pillowy lips. He tuts, skating the backs of his fingers against your cheekbone, watching the way your eyelashes flutter, your chest hitches with the catch in your breath. Tendrils of hair get tucked behind your ear, his fingers gliding through the glossy strands, the motion sending a wave of peach and vanilla perfume toward him.
“Look at you,” Joel coos. “Sittin’ all pretty for me.”
A noise of affirmation, preening under his gaze—yes, yes, yes. Bracketed by his thighs, his legs splay wide to accommodate your form in front of him. Thumb brushing against your bottom lip, it’s swollen, bitten raw, the supple flesh giving under the press of his hand. Your tongue darts out to catch the edge of it, a string of slick spit dripping as he pulls away.
A quiet hum reverberates from his chest, the rough pads of his fingers ghosting against your skin. Your cheek finds a home on the rough denim of his thigh, nuzzling into the material as you gaze up at him adoringly, soft and supple. His hands don’t leave you. Coasting along the line of your neck, the hollow of your throat, your sternum, slowly mapping the grooves and dimples of your delicate skin.
Fingertips leave traces of electricity in their wake, a low buzzing tingling across your body. His eyes, so deep and expressive in their gentle gaze, pin you in place, squirming as he raises an eyebrow at you. Broad, firm, strong body—Joel towers over you from your place on the floor; the wide set of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt across his chest, his forearms straining in their sleeves.
Your knees dig into the hard ground below you, his own knee gently pressing into your shoulder, the feel of him around you all-consuming and distracting you from the dull pain seeping into the delicate bones. Mewling, you press your nose into his thigh, mouth agape and darkening the material with your spit. A low throaty noise rumbles from him as he watches you, your thighs rubbing together impatiently.
“What do you want, baby girl, hm? Use your words.”
A huff, the sound sticking in your throat, tongue heavy in your mouth. With another low hum, he taps the underside of your chin gently and tilts his head at you, the swell of his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. His expression appeases you, the knowing eyes and round cheeks, prompting you to try and find your voice. Inching closer, you make the path further up his thigh, breaths rattling in your chest as you go. A chuckle from him cuts through the otherwise empty, silent room when your lips find the seam of his jeans, mouthing at the bulge pressing against it.
“Is that what you want?” Your tongue darts out, licking the denim. You feel him throb under your lips, the sight of you before him almost too much to bear. “Daddy’s cock in your mouth?” His lip curls—smug, satisfied.
Finally, you speak. It’s the first time since you got on your knees for him. “Please.” Your gaze is soft, doe-eyed, bottom lip trembling in anticipation.
His hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. Your eyes are dazed, faraway—with every flutter of your lashes he can see you starting to slip and fall, descend into that sweet spot: content, carefree, buoyant. A dopey smile curls at the corners of your lips, his chest swelling at the sight, a look of awe crossing his features as his hands curl around the edge of your jaw.
His fingers return to your hair again, twirling it around his hand and gently tugging. You yield to him, head dipping in submission, and his other hand curls around your shoulder. Guiding you into place—soft, pliable—he turns you around, brushing all your hair behind your shoulders as your back now faces him. Stirring slightly, a gentle whine echoes in his ears as you begin to try and turn back to him.
“Shh, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Gonna give it to you, okay? Gonna give you everything you want. Just let me—let me do this first, alright, little one?”
His honeyed tone slips through you, his adoration felt as it lodges itself in your throat. You swallow it down, warming you from the inside, his devotion, his care. A shiver notches itself along each vertebrae in your spine. Shoulders rounding again, you face forward, docile as his hands smooth down the silky muted lavender-coloured material of your slip, pinching it between his fingers.
“So pretty, sweetheart. You wear this for me?” he asks, voice low and rich, coating your insides with molten sugar, scalding.
You nod, his hand coming up to caress the curve of your neck, rough pads of his fingers tingling along the smooth skin. He gently presses against an older, pale purple bruise in the shape of his lips imprinted behind your ear.
“Such a sweet girl for me. Dressin’ up all nice and pretty. I’m so lucky, huh?”
You can’t help the shudder that rolls through you at his praise, shoulders shivering where his hands delicately glide along your skin. A hum, prompting you, asking for a response, rumbles from his chest. He wants you to know how good you are, wants you to say it—he wants you to see it, too.
“Gonna answer me, baby girl?” He twists a lock of your hair around his index finger, moving closer until his lips ghost the shell of your ear. A crackle of electricity sparks through you as you feel the soft graze of his tongue against you when he speaks, a slow wetness pooling between your legs. “Perfect, sweet little thing. You’re always so good for me, aren’t you? Go on, baby. Tell me. I wanna hear you say it.”
You gasp, thighs rubbing together again as your cunt clenches around nothing, pulses of desire rolling through your body. Watching the way your body trembles, he presses his forehead against the crown of your head, the silky locks of your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, peach and vanilla invading his senses. Murmuring again, something low and unintelligible under his breath, both of his big hands cup your shoulders, thumbs rubbing in soothing circles.
With a shuddering inhale, your body buckles, his hand cupping the side of your neck to hold you steady. “I am, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. That’s right,” he praises. “My baby girl.”
Hands move up to the crown of your head, gathering your hair into a fist. Feeling the shift of his hold, you know to sit still, let him work. But the feel of his fingertips sliding along your scalp causes you to sway involuntarily, body sagging again as the gentle catch of his nails casts your nerves alight.
Hastily sitting back up, his hand cups your shoulder—firm, insistent. “Sit up for me now,” he murmurs. “That’s it, baby.”
Guiding you to sit up straight again and splitting your hair into sections, he begins to work with practised ease. Soft, soothing sounds pour from his lips, spilling freely as they douse you in waves of calmness. Syrupy blue swells drag you deeper, awash in the magnetic pull of Joel’s presence. Above you, he feels the switch, the shift into that familiar place where he takes the reins, but just as easily falls to his knees—a supplicant at your altar. Your perfume invades his senses as he glides his hands through your hair, his cock throbbing incessantly.
Nails dig into your thighs as you sit for him, the gentle tug of his fingers as he weaves the sections of hair into place. It makes you feel small—a delicate thing to be treasured, doted on. The reverence in Joel’s hands makes you dizzy, the overwhelming care in the simple act is felt all around you.
He’s so capable, in all things. Watching him work during the day, the veins in his neck prominent as perspiration drips down his temple, the guttural grunts that pull from his chest as he lifts slabs of timber into place. Seeing him move seamlessly through the kitchen in the evening—big and broad and all man, smelling of pine and sweat from a day's work—set on providing for you, taking care of you. And now, putting you on your knees before him, about to give you what you need. A simple look at you and he just knows. It makes your cunt flutter, panties already ruined from the steady stream of slick leaking from your needy pussy.
You hear him release a breath, and the faint sound of your hair gliding through his fingers is the only other noise in the room. With one final tug that shoots directly through your core and the snap of a hair-band, Joel pinches your braid between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the grooves as his hand slides down the length of it. A low rumble in satisfaction, his fingers find the curve of your jaw, digging in gently as he moves you to turn once again, this time to face back toward him. You comply—of course you do, perfect little thing that you are. Your movements are slow, a little hazy as you slip further below the surface, guided by his tender hands.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs with a gentle smile, thumb smoothing against the round of your cheek.
Preening under his gaze, you feel your pulse kick up again as his hand moves to the back of your head—big, wide palm cupping the back of your neck and holding you in place. You know what he’s asking. His fingers press into the top of your spine, punctuating the silent question.
The denim of his jeans is rough against your shoulders, holding you in place—a caged bird. But you never dream of release from your golden perch, because this is freeing. This is real and true and loving; a freedom you’ve never felt before, handed to you without hesitation on a silver platter by the man before you. Anything you want and it’s yours.
Pushing forward, his hand follows you, knuckles brushing against the inside of your braid where it drapes against the top of your spine. Your eyes, dark and steely now, focus on the bulge straining against worn cotton as you move closer. Just as your lips are about to make contact, you’re stopped by a firm tug on your hair, jerking you back and forcing you to stare up at him.
“Need to hear you say it first,” he croons. “Tell me you want it.”
Eyelashes fluttering at him, your tongue peeks out from between the pink flesh of your lips. He tuts at you, working his jaw back and forth as you stare each other down. You want it—want him, all of him, all the messy and fractured and beautiful parts. You’ll take anything he gives you. It takes you a second to respond to his words, brain caught up in the creases by his eyes, the grey by his temples, the twist of his hand around your hair. But then, all it takes is one look: he raises his eyebrow and sets his shoulders back, rounded and strong, all big and imposing—you feel your heartbeat thrum in your throat before dropping low between your thighs, a steady pulse.
“Daddy,” you whine, almost beg, petulant and wanting. “I need it.”
The ghost of a smirk crosses his features before he moves to press his thumb to your lower lip. Curling the rest of his hand around your jaw, Joel pulls you forward, settling you in place when your nose rests against the seam of his crotch.
“Need, huh?” he huffs through a knowing smile. “Yeah, that’s right. My girl fuckin’ needs my cock in her mouth, don’t she?”
Nodding hastily, your breath skims against the fabric, chest beginning to heave as he slides forward in the chair. One hand shifts to curl around the side of your throat, thumb resting against the line of your jaw, while the other curls your braid around his fist. Looking up at him with the softest expression, your eyes rounded and docile, you snag his zipper in between your teeth and tug it down slow, slow, slow.
Joel shudders out a breath, fixated on you. The catch of the zipper pulls as you move, the feel of each groove of metal sending a shiver up his spine. Watching you makes him groan, the sight somehow so erotic, the pearlescent sheen of your teeth, glossy with spit against shiny silver, your movements so careful, eyes big and glassy as you stare up at him. He shifts again once it’s all the way down, and you begin to mouth lazily at his boxers, hard cock stretching against the fabric.
“Take me out, baby,” he breathes. “Go on now.”
Small fingers reach up and cup him through his boxers, squeezing as he throbs against your hand. Slowly guiding the waistband down, your tongue darts out, licking a wide stripe up your palm before your fist curls around the thick width of him, mouth salivating as you watch the tip ooze. The sight makes your stomach pull taut—you want to watch him rub it against your messy folds, hold you down under his weight and press into you, make you a small and pliant thing under him, pussy soaking him as he gives it to you again and again.
You resist the urge to snake a hand between your legs, desperately wishing to ease some of the tension there, instead knowing the rules. With the first experimental stroke, the smooth glide against him, he hisses through his teeth, settling deeper into the chair. Thumb catching on the swollen tip, twisting as you go, you lean forward and brush your tongue against his cock.
Eyelashes batting up at him, your mouth falls open with a breath, giving him another glimpse of your pink tongue. “Like this?” you ask in a whisper, feigning uncertainty.
Pressing his thumb into the hinge of your jaw, he nods, prying you open the rest of the way. Nostrils flaring when his tip ghosts against your bottom lip, Joel tilts his head at you.
“Don’t be shy. You were askin’ for it… beggin’ for it. Gonna take what you want, pretty girl?” His voice is rough, dragged through coals, warm and smouldering.
Moving your hands to rest on top of his knees, you edge forward, rubbing the soft wet of your tongue against the underside of his throbbing cock. Wrapping your lips around the velvet-soft skin of him, you press forward, humming as he slides further in. Big and thick and hot, pulsing as your mouth seals around him. The groan that pulls from his chest, low and raspy, makes your cunt clench, and the hot slick pull of your mouth has him tightening his fist around your braid.
When you reach the base, the tip of him sliding past the back of your throat as wispy curls brush against your nose, you keen for him, a muffled sigh catching in your chest. Nails dig into the fabric above his knees, beginning to move your head back and forward as spit spills from the corner of your lips. The press of your fingers into his thighs grounds him, the sensation cutting through the cloud in his lust-addled brain. Holding once you get to the base again, you swallow as your tongue strokes against him, throat opening up and then squeezing tight.
“Yeah, baby,” he drawls. “Just like that. Perfect fucking mouth.”
You’re so good for him—pulling back without complaint, little tongue licking at the head, dipping into the slit, a wet, hot kiss pressed against him. Joel’s chest pinches, aching at the sight of you, the dewy smear against your chin, the subtle shift of your thighs. Moving to feather kisses along the wet length of his cock, your humid breath skates across him, a low heat growing in his belly.
Lips passing against him again, pulling him in, the heavy weight of his cock settles on your tongue, the salty, sweaty musk of him invading your senses. When you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears, big and round and seeing right into the very soul of him, his hips jerk, pushing hard as he presses down your throat. Mouth stretching impossibly wide with a needy whimper, the vibration of it shoots through him, heat licking against his spine—a coil that tightens with every stroke of your wet, hot tongue.
“Fuck,” he grits out. “Fuck, baby girl. Hold me there, yeah, like that.”
Pushing forward ever so slightly, lips stretching further as a tear slides quick and warm down your cheekbone, his nails bite into the skin against your jaw, his other hand pulling your braid in a vise-grip.
“Swallow again, wanna feel it.”
You obey, throat constricting and working around him. Hips shifting back with a groan, you chase him, mouth wrapping around him again. Your jaw aches already, a dull pain that warms low in your gut and makes your pussy throb, desperate for the feeling of him down your throat. Thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek, Joel feels the tip of his cock rub against the inside of your mouth, his molars clenching tight as something almost animalistic claws at the inside of his chest—laying a stake there, a claim, a part of you that he knows is his.
The noise he makes draws your eyes up to his face, and with his fingers curled around the delicate structure of your jaw, he guides you back down the length of him, the throbbing tip sliding into your throat.
“Takin’ this cock so well, baby. Made just for me, all mine,” he says, eyes blown wide. A muffled moan from you vibrates against him. “Hard to talk with a mouth full of Daddy’s cock, huh?”
After your tongue makes another pass along the aching length of him, soft and slippery and dribbling down your chin in fat streaks, he twists your braid around his fist and gently tugs you off him. Your lungs gasp for air, a rapid inhale that rattles against your ribcage. His hands find your cheeks, big and solid, pulling your gaze up to him again. Leaning down, he scatters kisses against your hairline, all soft and soothing, thumbs brushing against the dampness streaking along your little face, whispered affections spilling from his lips.
“Good girl, that’s my good girl. Always take it so well,” he coos.
Heat prickles against your skin at the praise, pulling low and tight in your gut, cunt seeping wetness. You want to show him just how good you can be, the hazy, soft part of your mind preening at the thought. Pulling back, his hands fall to the nape of your neck, firm and strong, rough as his thumb grazes against the top of your spine, your shoulders shivering at the feeling.
“Yeah?” you ask, voice quiet and thready, whispered out between your swollen lips.
Nodding, eyes pitch black, irises completely swallowed by his pupils, his mind fizzles and crackles as he watches you—a dizzy lightheadedness clouding his eyes. With a curl of a smirk pulling at your lips, you move your hands around to your lower back, crossing them at the wrists, pinning them in place. Letting your mouth fall open, tongue sliding out from between your lips, you begin to edge forward towards him, the round of your ass drawing his eye as your spine curves, the material of your slip shifting.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, baby,” he sighs, fist curling around your jaw again as his cock slides past your lips. “Love havin’ you like this, so pretty down on your knees for me.”
Saliva pools on your tongue, coating his length and leaking from the sides of your mouth, stretched wide. Flushed cheeks and round eyes look up at him when he meets your gaze. Pulsing in your mouth, your tongue curls around him, brushing against the silken throbbing underside of his cock. You begin to move up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you go, the wet, slick glide of it. Exhaling roughly, the vein in his neck twitches, the flutter of his pulse quick and frantic under his skin.
“Shit, shit,” he growls, the blunt edges of his nails digging into your cheek. “Always so eager, huh? I know you love it, havin’ my cock down your throat.”
Whining in agreement and pressing your thighs together again, Joel wipes a stray tear from your cheek as it slips down. When you pull away from him with a stuttered breath, he pets at your hair, fingers moving to toy with your braid. Batting your eyelashes at him, your bottom lip juts forward, demure and coy—he would believe it, too, if not for the smudge of pre-cum that marks your chin. His lip pulls up in a smirk when your tongue pokes out to lap at the tip, soft little kitten licks that send jolts of electricity through his gut.
Your lips brush against him, soft and barely there, the faintest of touches that make him keen with interest, hard cock throbbing with intent. You do it again and again, almost mindlessly, just wanting to feel him. Each delicate movement makes his chest rumble, hips shifting impatiently as you play. Rubbing your tongue down the length of him, a whisper of a kiss placed in your wake as you go, you squeal when he tugs down firmly on your braid, your head pulled to meet his gaze.
“No teasing.”
You suck the tip into the wet heat of your mouth. “I’m not teasing.”
He tuts, frowning down at you. “You are.” His eyes darken. “That’s not nice, little girl. Don’t I always take such good care of you? Huh?”
Tongue dipping into the slit, you don’t reply for a moment. A hum, and then, “Yes.”
The firm pull of his fist startles you again, breath caught in your throat as he tugs your hair hard, radiating stinging prickling across your scalp. The action is a reminder without words. “Yes what?” he asks, the muscle in his jaw feathering, measured control.
Your cunt pulses, a gush of slick dampening your already wet panties.
“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, mouth watering, the salty taste of him lingering on your tongue.
“That’s my girl,” he hums, loosening his grip and brushing a thumb against your temple.
Cheeks burning hot, your heartbeat pounds in your pussy, throbbing insistently, nearly painful with pure want. Ignoring the ache of your shoulders from keeping your arms back, hands pressed against your ass, you push forward again hastily and take him back into your mouth. Your jaw slackens, mouth relaxing as he easily hits the back of your throat, the wide stretch making your gut twist with need. After pausing for a moment, you press down the rest of the way, his groan reaching your ears while your throat constricts around him, squeezing him tight.
"Just like that, fuck, just like that. So fuckin’ good, baby.”
Your chest heaves, glistening with wetness—sweat, spit and tears that have run down your feverish skin, darkening the neckline of your silky slip to a deep purple. Eyes flicking up to his face, Joel’s gaze is trained on his cock as it disappears between your lips, the desperate need that flickers behind thinly veiled control. Wrapping a fist around the thick base, his other hand tugs at your chin, prying you open to him. Tapping the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue as it lolls out, he grins, sinfully gorgeous as a bead of sweat drips down the line of his neck.
He’s so big above you—thick arms, strong torso, firm jaw—your eyebrows pinch together as you watch him, feel the salty tang of him on your tongue. Sighing breathily, you lap lazily at the tip, shifting on your knees as the burning need within you begins to smoulder, thighs sticky with desire.
“Taste so good,” you murmur, tongue brushing against your lip. “Mmm, love your cock.”
“‘S that right?” he drawls.
“Want it, Daddy—want, want, want,” you mewl, mouthing wetly at the thick heft of him.
He laughs again, chest puffing up as he caresses your cheek, rubbing his cock against you again. “I’m givin’ it to you, baby girl, just like you wanted.”
Frowning, you whimper, whiny and petulant and bratty, trying to pull your chin away from his grip in defiance.
“You gotta use your words for me, sweetheart. Go on now, tell me what you want. You know I’ll always give it to you, anything you want.”
Another whine, eyebrows pulling together as your lip juts out into a pout. He clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on your jaw, and with one firm gaze, you settle—eyes soft and wide, wet with tears.
“She—it… it hurts, Daddy. Want you inside me, want your cock, please,” you mewl, cunt clenching in anticipation.
“Oh, my poor girl,” he coos. “Desperate to get fucked, huh? That greedy little pussy just needs me so bad?”
Nodding hastily, you shift impatiently again, all wet and achy, your cunt leaking onto the floor.
“Come up here, sweetheart. Come sit on Daddy’s cock,” he murmurs.
Guiding you up off your knees, the pain in your shoulders burning bright as he helps lift you up, legs wobbly and shaky, one hand clasped around the back of your thigh steadies you as the other curls around the delicate wing of your shoulder blade. Tilting his head with an encouraging nod, you climb onto his lap, legs spread across the expanse of his thighs. The blunt edges of his nails press into your skin as he gently kneads the top of your back, a soothing hum rumbling from deep in his chest.
Lifting his knees suddenly, he throws you off-kilter. Gasping when the fat head of him nudges your pulsing clit, you collapse forward, a shudder rolling down your spine at the feel of him. His hands find your waist, pooling the material of your slip up around your hips until you’re exposed for him, the wet leaking mess of your cunt sliding across his lap. With a hum, he guides the movement of your hips, rolling your folds against the stiff length of his cock.
“Yeah, just like that, baby. How’s that? Feels good?”
All thoughts leave your mind when the tip of him catches on your hole, pressing in just slightly before pushing up again to brush against your clit.
“Daddy,” you cry, suddenly brainless and quivering on top of him. “Please, please, please,” you whine, little hands reaching down to try and take ahold of him.
Grabbing at your wrists, circling them with one hand and caging you against his chest, he tuts at you. Your breaths leave your chest in stuttered, laboured pants, the desire completely overwhelming, slipping fully into that place where you want nothing more than to be used and fucked, told what to do and tossed around. Rutting against him, wetness seeping into his lap, his other hand circles the back of your head, the fragile curve of your skull captured in his broad palm.
“Shh,” he soothes, “easy now.”
You struggle for one more moment, your wings clipped, held in place.
“Easy, little one, slow down just a beat.”
“But I need it,” you pout.
“I decide what you need. That’s how this works, baby girl. Yeah?” he asks, fingers pressing into the side of your wrist.
A huff, a wiggle in his lap, your pussy throbs but you relent, shoulders rounding forward as you nod.
“That’s what I thought,” he simpers. One hand reaches down to pet at you, his thick fingers sliding against your slick folds. “Oh, baby, she’s cryin’ for me.”
A broken whimper catches in your throat, pressing your nose into the soft juncture in his throat, the sweaty musk making you feel light-headed, tongue dipping out to lick at the salty skin. Clit grinding against the wiry hairs around his cock, you soak him with your wetness, dribbling down the hard planes of his stomach, the muscles shifting with each flex of your thighs.
The next plea dies on your tongue, the warbled please snuffed out by his hand, the burning flame within you momentarily smothered. Pressing into your quivering hole with two thick fingers, you squirm, hips shifting to push them all the way, bearing down on his digits.
“I’m gonna be so gentle with her,” Joel murmurs, lips sliding against your temple, the scent of your perfume burning in his nose, stoking the fire of desperation that burns in him, too. “Wet fuckin’ pussy. Gotta be so gentle with this soft little cunt, yeah?"
Grazing against that soft spongey spot deep inside, your hips shutter, the simple press of his fingers flooding your gut with hot warmth as you cry out into his neck. “Oh, oh—fuck, please, please, give me your cock, please, Daddy,” you sob, salty tears staining his chest as you beg. “Please, I need it so bad, need you to fuck me full with your big cock, please give it to me.”
Rubbing against it again, your whole frame twitches in his lap, thighs squeezing tight around his hips as you buck into his hand. The heavy weight of your tits catches his eyes, jiggling as you squirm on top of him. His other hand reaches up to tug down the thin straps digging into your shoulders, mouth instantly leaning down to lick at the soft skin now revealed, rubbing the hot wet of his tongue over your pert nipples.
You want to beg again, lay down on the floor and feel the cool press against your back, pull him to you until you’re captured under his strong weight. It would be so easy, you think, to wrap your legs around him like that, press your heels into the small of his back and guide his cock into your aching little hole. Whining impatiently again as his teeth brush your collarbone, he rubs the heel of his palm against your clit to satisfy you—not enough, just a little.
Nipping at your jaw, he shushes you, a gentle lilt to his voice guiding you back down. “It’s okay, sweetheart, gonna give it to you,” he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and shushing you again when you whine. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up, alright? You were so good for me, such a good girl, gonna give it to you just how you need,” he assures, hand reaching down to guide the thick head to your cunt.
Now longing to be set free, the caged bird within you crying for release, begging to be liberated and wild, you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, watching the place where he’s about to give you freedom.
“Please, Daddy.”
With a laboured grunt, the fat head of him stretches you, his hands grip your waist and fuck up into you, filling you in one smooth motion. Your pussy gushes around him, wet and slick and desperate, sucking him in with a frantic need. Hands clawing at his chest, you move with him, eyes already completely bleary with tears that run down your cheeks in messy, hot streaks. Your body feels like something else when he has you like this, becomes something else, needy and fucked full and loved—whole and free.
“Fucking perfect little cunt. Squeezing me so tight already, baby,” he groans, marvelling at the feel of you around him, eyes dark but sparking bright. “Hold on to me, yeah, like that.”
Fingers digging into the delicate material of your slip as it pools around your waist, he bounces you on his cock, thighs slamming against him with every stroke. You’re full to the brim, every part of you completely overwhelmed with him—suffused with warmth and light and Joel. The wet hot clutch of your cunt makes him dazed, convinced you’re made for him, the feel of you like molten sugar that burns at every touch and slides, hot and sticky, between his fingers.
You feel the thickness of him with every shift of his hips, throbbing as he touches the deepest part of you. Skin burning, you hastily pull your slip off, throwing it somewhere behind you as you grind down against him, your knees stretching even wider.
“Oh, fuck,” he marvels, voice all rough and breathy. “Look at that, baby.”
His hand reaches down to brush against your stomach, thumb pressing in and catching on the swell of his cock as he fucks up into you. “Look at you,” he tuts. “Look at how good you take me, tiny little pussy takin’ this big cock. You feelin’ me in here, baby girl?”
There’s no response you could give, the words entirely fucked out of you as the air leaves your lungs with every stroke of his heavy cock within you. Your answering cry is enough for him, a low grunt hitting your ears as he clenches his jaw tight. Broad palm covering the soft skin of your belly, Joel groans, loud and long, when he feels the bulge of his cock against his hand.
The flesh of your ass jiggles, shaking as you rock on top of him, the movements frantic and wild. Legs slippery against him, entirely soaked with sweat and your slick that leaks out around his cock, your head falls forward and rests against the hard muscle of his chest, braid falling over your shoulder as you go. His hands reach up to grab at it again, twisting it to guide your mouth to his, your lips meeting in a messy kiss, wet tongue sliding against the line of your teeth.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you chant into his mouth, voice small and broken as your throat tightens, the air rushing into your lungs in laboured pants.
“I know, baby, I know,” he coos. “It’s a lot for you, huh? You can take it, I know you can, look at you go.”
“Yeah, Daddy,” you affirm with a nod as he leans forward to kiss a salty tear off your cheek.
“That’s right, my girl lookin’ so pretty when she’s full of my cock.”
Pussy pulsing around him, you press your mouth to his again, sucking on his bottom lip, his tongue, all spit and teeth. Your body wound up tight, like a coil waiting to snap, you bite at his jaw, becoming a desperate, greedy little thing on his lap. The tight seal of your cunt chokes his cock, so tight and slick, some primal need within him, clawing at him, as his gut twists and clenches.
“Want you—want you to fill me up, Daddy. Wanna be full of your cum.”
“Baby,” he groans, whole body shuddering as he squeezes your hips. “Such a filthy girl, beggin’ for my cum.”
Hips shifting faster on him, you nod against his neck, panting little breaths coasting across his chest. Joel’s jaw clenches tight, molars grinding down painfully as his nostrils flare, the thought of watching his cum ooze from your spent pussy making his mind completely dizzy.
Big palms reaching down to cup your ass, he bounces you on his lap, forearms flexing under your thighs as your nipples graze against him with every thrust. On a knife’s edge, built up and up and up, hurdling towards something monumental and devastating, something that rewrites your entire being each time it happens.
“I think ‘m gonna come,” you sob. “You’re gonna make me come, Daddy, please, make me come on your cock.”
“That’s my girl. C’mon, baby, want you to give it to me. Fuckin’ soak my cock.”
One hand reaches forward to pet at your clit, big thick fingers rubbing against the slick wet of your cunt. The curl of desire wraps around you, gripping you tightly as he talks at you in a low voice, something you can’t make out, head dazed and cast adrift. Body tensing, each muscle and nerve within you set ablaze, a rush of wetness soaks his cock and drips down onto his lap. Your cunt squeezes him tight, fluttering and pulsing, a cry torn from your throat as his moan hits your ears.
Your insides pull taut, turning liquid, wet and wanting, like the tide pulling water out into the ocean. It hits you, cresting over your body, waves crashing upon the shoreline.
“Good girl, such a perfect girl, love this little cunt,” he groans, the rasp sending a shiver down your spine.
Arms weakly moving to wrap around his neck, you murmur against his lips, the aftershocks shooting through you. “Come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”
“Gonna give it to you, baby girl. Know how you need it, need’a be full of me, huh? My cum leakin’ outta that pretty little hole?”
Grunting as he fucks up into you, he presses his face into your neck, baring his teeth against the fragrant skin there. The last pulses of your orgasm send him over the edge, the throb of his cock as he fills you up, everything all slick and wet, his hips rutting up into you as he holds you in place.
“Fuck,” he groans, all long and drawn out, a shudder rolling through him.
The sounds he makes causes another gush from your pussy, so full of his cum that some of it already starts to leak out around his cock.
Bringing his arms around your back, he runs the tips of his fingers down your spine, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as your form softens on his lap.
“Mmm,” you sigh, nuzzling into him like a cat as he carefully slides himself out of you.
Gently moving to slide his fingers through the mess between your thighs, he hums, nudging your jaw with his nose. “Open up,” he whispers, hooking his fingers into your mouth, pressing the salty tang onto your tongue.
Pulling back to look at you, a satisfied smile tugs at his lips as your mouth wraps around him, eyelashes batting as you suck down the taste of your slick and his cum.
“Good girl. Did so good for me,” he breathes, withdrawing his fingers and brushing his thumb against your cheek.
Turning your face to kiss his palm, you sigh, a content little sound that tugs at his chest. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Hand tangling in the base of your hair below your braid, Joel gently guides your face to his again. He whispers your name, a faint thing, and you kiss it back into him, spell it out with your tongue and seal it into his mouth. His.