Page 25 of Big Daddy

I reach into my boxer briefs and collect my erection, steely and hot in my palm. “Take the job. Get paid enough to take care of yourself and save some. Be in a safe environment. Get your own apartment. Don’t be foolish.” I take my cock out and her jaw splits, her mouth falling open. “Let me help you, Winnie.”

My eyes drop to her cunt, covered by her shorts. A dark circle forms between her legs, over her pussy, seeping through the bubble gum pink fabric. With my cock in one hand, I reach out, hooking my finger in the crotch of her shorts. Her head tips back, and I crash my mouth to her throat, sucking and licking her sweet skin as she moans.

“Big Daddy, we should stop,” she breathes, sifting her fingers through my hair as I kiss my way down her throat and collarbone, finally dropping to my knees in my own kitchen.

I look up at her and she looks down at me. The moment ripples with heated tensions, but her subtle head nod tells me everything I need to know: she’s on board.

With her consent, I abandon my egregious erection and tug down her shorts, discovering she is pantiless.

“You’re not wearing fucking panties?” the question erupts from me, jagged and vexing. “From now on, Winnie, you better fucking wear panties. Do you hear me?”

I drag my nose through her lips, shaved and glistening, just the way I envisioned them. Her pussy is swollen with arousal, her clit blooming, hungry and desperate. She moans as she sifts her fingers through the top of my hair, digging her nails into my scalp.

“I don’t want this pussy accessible to anyone. Not while you work for me.”

“Strict office rules,” she breathes, attempting to be playful but her own arousal leaves her slightly breathless, a little quiet. I love the way she sounds on the brink of an orgasm.

“That’s fucking right. You do as I say when you work for me,” I growl, moving my lips against hers, taking in her sweet scent.

“Stop being a bossy asshole and make me come, Big Daddy,” she says, thrusting her cunt into my mouth, her order riding a moan. With one hand on her thigh, I use my other hand to jack my cock as I bury my face between her legs.

Sucking her clit, driving my tongue deep into her cunt, kissing her lips—I eat her out as she writhes and whines, slapping my shoulders as she fights the orgasm cresting.

“You’re too fucking young,” I say in between licks, slipping the tip of my finger into her cunt, feeding her more until I’m knuckle deep. With a slight curl, I seal my lips to her clit and suck while I finger her, making her legs tremble and her words lose meaning.

“I’m... oh shit… Big Dad—ohmygod,” she moans, precum coating my knuckles as I voraciously pump my cock.

I’m on my knees in my kitchen, jacking off like a fucking animal, my face buried between the legs of the sexiest woman I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.

I wish we'd never met.

Because from this fucking moment on, I will not stop until Winnie Collins is mine. All fucking mine.

Knowing what I’m up against, I burrow my face into her heaven a bit deeper, curl my fingers a little more, suck her clit a bit longer. Ignorance and pussy are bliss.

The sounds her body makes as I ravage her have me pumping myself hard and fast, torn between wanting to spray my cum all over the floor, showing her everything I plan to bury inside ofher, and wanting to grip my head and force myself to stave it off, to wait and show restraint, and power.

“Oh there,” she whines, moving her cunt against my mouth in gentle grinds. “Eat me, Big Daddy,” she moans, causing me to grip my crown with the strength of every man trying not to come. I don’t like the name Big Daddy. Or, I don’t know. I didn’t. But I do like hearing her call me that when my tongue is lodged so deep in her cunt that I can feel her tight little asshole flex. “There, there, there,” she chants, her volume rising, legs trembling.

I give myself another stroke, the slick glide of copious precum weakening my resolve to hold off. I’m a leaking, dripping, aching mess for her. I haven’t been this way in years.

“Come for me, you little brat,” I encourage, sucking her swollen clit between my teeth, rolling gently as I suckle, urging her to let go.

“Yes,” she cries out, yanking my hair as she thrusts herself into my face, coming in violent, unabashed waves, her cries of completion echoing around my kitchen like the most perfect song. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

I lick, suck and swallow every last drop of Winnie’s orgasm, wishing I had more stubble to absorb the scent of her, wishing she was mine to eat and bed for the rest of time.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. As I get to my feet, stuffing my painfully hard erection back into my pants, I consider that perhaps I have a tumor and it’s making me fucking impulsive. It’s making me someone I’m not.

Because Quincey fucking Parker does not obsess over women. Especially those which he cannot have.

Yet here I am, buckling my belt, saying, “you have a valid license, yes?”

With her legs still spread, her pink pussy still on display, Winnie blinks at me, catching her breath. “Huh?”

“I have several cars in the garage, detached from the main house. No more Uber, no more driving Brielle’s car, no more walking, no more of that bullshit. You’ll take a car.” I stuff my shirt into my trousers and smooth my hands through the sides of my hair, restyling it as best as I can. My hair is the only thing that gives away my age. I don’t color the silver that peeks through near my ears, or the streaks that have appeared around my crown. I leave it. And as Winnie watches me, I’m glad I did.

“Brielle will know it’s your car,” she says, a sliver of reality returning to our situation. I love my daughter, but right now, I don’t want to think of her.

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