Page 25 of Sugar Daddies

It is dangerous to have a furnace in my bed; Daddy would be angry at me for trying to burn down his home through this weird desire that I have to sleep under toasty conditions with the air conditioning on.

It’s weird, but I can’t help it. it’s the perfect condition to get the perfect night of sleep, and Daddy had never complained about being too hot under the covers.

He also doesn’t say anything about the electricity bills, but he is a very wealthy man with enough money to live off of air conditioning for the rest of our lives.

He can have it on every minute of the whole year and not put a dent in his bank account. I grumpily pat the furnace, “Hot…”

I’m talking to myself again, and it’s not good, so I humph at the moving machine and roll to the other side. I’ll take the furnace off the bed once I have my thirty minutes of lazing in bed.

The other side isn’t any better.

It’s hot, and it’s moving, but it’s also speaking a human language.

What the heck?

This is what sleeping too much does to me. I become a little crazy in the bed that I’m associating a heating machine with a human form.

The only way to redeem this is to close my eyes and curl deeper into the bed; it folds in my creases and shapes my body to the best it can so it supports my spine. My joints will thank me later when I roll out of bed. The level of tiredness multiplies, and I find myself falling back to sleep with a count of three.

The furnace is laughing again, but it’s coming from in front of me, and this nightmarish dream should see itself out of my sleep.

I crack one eye open and frowns. The rumbling gets louder from both sides of me. I extend one hand out and pet the smooth surface to silently tell the freaking heater to calm down. There is no need to set the bed on fire for sitting on an uneven bed.

“Morning, little princess.”

My hand twitches to a stop, and my mind pauses to let it reel back the fogginess.

The only person who calls me that is Mr. Stephan, and he’s in the other room. I sleep with Daddy, and I shouldn’t be hearing Mr. Stephan’s voice chuckling. The hotness of a palm scorches my cheek, and I furrow my brows.

My eyes jerk wide open at the patch of inky skin, I intake a shuddering breath when it’s not the tattoo that I’m familiar with on Daddy’s body. I lurch up on my elbows to stare at the white headboard, my mind running wild at what could have happened last night for me to end up in the same bed as Mr. Stephan.

I look down, and I’m wearing a cotton shirt. The shoulder slips off, and I’m peering down on my nipples. Slapping a hand across the shirt to prevent it from slipping further, I wreck my brain to connect the missing timeframe in my head.

A hand creeps towards my thigh, and I narrow my eyes in question as to where it’s coming from. I look towards the side of my thigh that’s being groped, and it’s the mob of messy blank hair that throws me off balance.

My elbow falls, and I’m planting my face straight to the pillow, but not before it gets caught by the arm to my forehead. Wincing in pain, I rub my head on the arm and thump it back in retaliation.

Daddy laughs at me, and I gasp in shock. It dawns on me that this isn’t a dream where I am sandwiched between two men. It’s a reality, and it’s messing with my mind. I have trouble associating anything in the room with my memories as they are all haywire. I turn my face, and there he is in all his handsome glory; messy hair, intense eyes, and a scruffy beard.

He’s shirtless and doesn’t have pants as I can tell by feel of my bare legs seeking out his.

With much effort and great hesitation, my head cranks to the other side in jerky movements that I remind myself of a haunted doll that turns her head too slow as the mechanism in her neck area isn’t well oiled.

Yeah, I’m losing it. I just compared myself to a freaky doll being haunted by an evil force with nothing better to do than to scare people.

“What…?” I stutter in disbelief as Mr. Stephan’s smile puts another rock in my heart.

It should lighten my day, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Two men in one bed with me who can’t remember much from last night, naked under a shirt that is too big to be mine, and the belief that something happened last night.

Oh no, a hand creeps closer to my bare pussy.

Daddy’s arm spins me around, so my back is pressed to his naked chest. The heat seeps into the shirt and warms my back. I look up at Mr. Stephan as Daddy traps me with one arm swinging over my waist and the other stretched over to grope my breast from under the shirt.

Panic explodes in my chest as Mr. Stephan’s eyes darken, and I wiggle nervously on Daddy’s cock, which is hard and hot on my butt.

Daddy tweaks my nipple, rolling it between his fingers to demand a salacious moan that sounds too dirty to my ears. I arch my back to push my breast into his palm as there’s a spark of interest in Mr. Stephan’s lusty brown eyes. He watches with an interest of a monster lurking and waiting to pounce, but he’s controlled and resolute as he regulates his breathing into calm breaths.

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