“Surprised? I’m not an old man, you know?” he asks me, an amused smile dancing on his lips.
“No,” I breathe out, my lungs suddenly remembering to start working again. “But you’re still my daddy,” I tell him, grabbing his cock so harshly that he groans.
“Yes, I am,” he replies, moving fast and reaching for me with his hand. He places it over the front of my dress, bunching it up between my thighs, and I let out a moan as I feel the pressure of his fingers right on my pussy. “And daddy’s going to take good care of you.”
Insanity. This is pure insanity. Out of all the men in the world, why did I have to succumb to the only one I’m not supposed to have? I’ve never really cared about society’s fake modesty, but fucking my stepfather? That’s a bit too much, even for me. But, the thing is, I can’t stop it. No, this river is going to run its course.
Letting go of his cock, I curl my fingers around his wrist and force him to press his hand harder against my pussy. I throw my head back at the same time, pressing it against the wall, and I moan as the pressure of his fingers on me becomes almost unbearable. I’m so wet right now that I feel lightheaded, both my brain and heart succumbing to the natural high of pleasure and anticipation.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks me, his deep voice sending a shiver up my spine. He takes his hand out from between my thighs, but that’s just so he can slide it under the hemline of my dress. His fingertips trail toward my inner thigh, and then he’s on me again, the palm of his hand pressed tight against my drenched thong.
“Ah… I… I do…” I moan, struggling to get the words out.
Stroking the front of my thong with the tip of his fingers, he teases me mercilessly, drawing moan after moan out of my lips. Then, his fingers flowing from one movement to the other, he pinches the fabric and flicks it to the side. He presses the palm of his hand over my pussy and I gasp, the pressure making my insides clench, a violent urge to have him inside of me taking over my mind.
Reading my thoughts, he caresses my folds with his middle finger, moving it up and down in a repetitive motion. He only slides it in when I’m not counting on it, curling it upward like a hook and moving it straight toward that sweet hidden spot inside of me.
“Oh, God,” I pant, feeling his fingertip pressed tight against my G-spot. At the sound of my words, he presses even harder, my eyes rolling in their orbits as he does it. He lowers his thumb over my clit, then, and starts rubbing with the same abandonment with which he’s pressing on my G-spot. “That’s… that’s good,” I whisper, smiling as he handles my body with the expertise of a man who's seen it all.
Most men can’t even find a woman’s clit, let alone her G-spot. And that’s just sad, don’t you think? Thankfully, Parker isn’t like most men, and everything he does makes me believe that every second with him is a gift from the heavens.
“You’re tight,” he whispers, leaning in and brushing his lips against my ear. At the same time, he slides one more finger inside my aching pussy; he flicks his wrist slowly, moving both his fingers in and out of my pussy at a growing rhythm. “I love tight,” he continues, fingering me so hard now that I can’t even think of a response to his words. All I can do is stand there while he works me with his fingers, each movement of his hand like a sweet sting.
I want to tell him not to stop, to keep going, but I don’t have the strength to do it. When I open my mouth, all that I manage to do is whisper another quivering moan, my eyelids drooping as I feel a storm brewing inside of me. Perhaps feeling it, he drives his two fingers deep inside my pussy, pressing them both against my G-spot, and then he starts rubbing my clit even harder than before.
I succumb to his magical touch in a fraction of a second, my pussy tightening around his fingers as a violent electric spasm crawls up my spine. I throw my head back, bumping it against the wall, and let my moan spread its wings and turn into a scream of utter delight.
Using both my hands, I curl all of my fingers around his wrist and force him to press even harder, my G-spot burning as if his fingers were made of flames.
“That… that was so good,” I breathe out as he slides his fingers out of my pussy. He doesn’t reply; he just grins and, lifting his hand up, takes his two fingers to his mouth. He brushes his fingertips over his parted lips, my fluids making them glisten, and then smiles softly.
“Of course it was,” he simply says, moving his fingers toward me. I open my mouth by instinct, my body reacting on its own, and he slides his fingers inside my mouth; I close my eyes and suck on his fingers, the sweet flavor of my own pussy eclipsing every other sensation. “Delicious, isn’t it?” he asks me, his deep rugged voice awakening a beast inside of me.