Page 162 of Daddy, Sir

“Me too, babygirl. Me too.” And though I was tempted to keep taking my time, to draw out every moment, every touch, I knew we’d both implode.

Our bodies were pressed together now, and her silky skin under mine was almost more than I could handle.

“Please, Daddy,” she begged. “We’ll have our whole lives to take it slow. Please just make love to me, now.”

“God, baby, you’re going to be the death of me.” Sliding my hands into the waistband of her panties, the only article of clothing she was still wearing, I slid them down her thighs, and got my first glimpse of her puffy pink mound: her lips swollen, her clit beaded, giving irrefutable proof of her arousal. My cock swelled, hardening between us, the thin cotton of my boxer briefs no longer able to contain my true feelings as they tented.

She giggled, and I slid a finger across her slick slit, feeling her wetness. The musk of her scent filled the air between us. My mouth watered, and I dipped my head for a taste, sucking her clit into my mouth while my fingers worked her soft folds.

“Oh, god!” she gasped. “Please, more!” She writhed beneath me and pointed at my boxers. “Take. Them. Off.”

“Oh these?” I teased, rearing back on my haunches and pointing at myself, snapping the elastic waistband. “You want these off?”

“Yessss.” It came out as a hiss, and she looked and sounded so needy and desperate that I took pity on her. Or maybe I took pity on myself. Either way, the boxers came off, revealing my cock, thick, hard, and ready.

“Oooh,” she moaned, leaning forward to touch it. I let her, closing my eyes at the way her hand felt wrapped around my cock. “Damn babygirl.”

“I want it,” she cried. “I want you inside me, please, Daddy.”

I could have tasted her more, or made her suck me off, or spent more time admiring every inch of her beautiful body, but I was already crazy with need, aching with want. And every look at her flushed writing body beneath me sent me soaring into the atmosphere. I wanted to draw it out, to memorize every moment, but I was pretty sure my cock and balls would have staged a revolt if I did, so instead I teased her pretty pink folds again, first with my fingers, then with the head of my cock.

She pushed her hips toward me, and my cock head slipped inside her just the slightest bit. She gasped, her eyes going wide. “It’s been a long time, Daddy.”

“I know, baby.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. I doubted it was from pain. Maybe from emotion? I wiped them with my finger and covered my lips with hers.

“Daddy,” she whimpered. “ I need you.”

“You have me,” I grunted, thrusting as slowly and gently as I could into her soft, wet sheath. Her pussy walls contracted around my hard cock and her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingernails digging into the skin.

“Oh baby, you feel so good.”

“You too, Daddy.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked, brushing her damp hair out of her eyes and tucking a strand behind her ear as I slowly thrust all the way in, filling her.

She shook her head. “It hurts so good, Daddy.” She rocked her hips, and they rose up to meet my thrust. “Please, Daddy, take me. I need you. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to take me, to use me. I want to please you.”

Earlier in our relationship, the words she was speaking would have set off warning bells in my head. But after joining her for several therapy sessions, I knew they were just words. They didn't have the same meaning as before. With us it was different. With me she was safe.

Somehow, knowing that was just as arousing as the swell of her breasts, her soft curves, and the way her pussy squeezed my cock with every thrust. “Yes, baby.” I panted as I arched my hips to meet her movements, “I will take you, and use you, and make you mine, forever and ever, babygirl.”

I meant it, but she was far too gone to register the significance of my vow. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a flush raced up her body. Her back arched, and her nails dug deeper into my skin, I thrust harder, pounding furiously because I was too far gone to stop.

“Yes, baby, yes,” I grunted.

“Yes, Daddy, please!” she cried.

Her pussy squeezed my cock as jets of warm cum filled her. I should have used protection, at least for our first time, but she hadn’t asked, and I hadn’t offered. It didn’t matter anyway,because there would never be anyone else for me after this. I’d known it since the first day she’d stepped timidly into my house, smiled, and called me Daddy, Sir. Lola was mine.

I came hard, and she did too, and when it was done, we lay still, all sweaty entangled limbs, with our foreheads pressed together, our ragged breaths in sync.

And though I had a pressed suit in the closet, a reservation at a fancy restaurant, and a ring tucked away in my sock drawer, none of that mattered as I stared into her deep blue eyes.

“Marry me,” I whispered.

Lola gasped. Somehow without getting off of her, I managed to get my drawer open and fumble for the ring. Popping the box open, I slid it out, and held it up between us.

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