Page 27 of More, Daddy
My laptop slides off my lap, onto the couch, the screen moving as my arm works faster and faster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan, swiping the flat of my palm over the hole on my cockhead, smearing my precum down my shaft as my head careens back, a groan roaring free from my chest. “Fuck, you’re sweet, baby.”
I’d stand over her bed, watching her snuggle into her pillow after I’d kiss her goodnight but then… my fingers would start to tingle. My muscles would twitch and a moment later, I’d be pulling back those covers, slipping into bed next to my sweet girl, tugging her little pajama shorts down. To help her sleep really well, I’d need to make her feel really good, and I’d whisper that into the back of her ear as she moaned, “daddy, is that you?”
I stroke myself faster, harder, my breathing jagged, my laptop nearly sliding off onto the floor.
My fingers would sweep the soft flesh of her inner thigh as I’d pull her open, and sink my hot length deep inside her wet little cunt.
“Hold still for Daddy,” I’d tell her, screwing my eyes shut, rutting into her tight heat in sloppy, passionate strokes.
Cum splatters up my belly and chest, a few ambitious drops landing on my chin as I open my eyes, taking in my house all around me.
A moment later, the screen flickers and our chat disappears.
I realize, sitting in a heap of my own cum, that IneedDaddysGirl. And I need her to be Daddy’s girl.
I’m in irreversibly deep.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
“And on behalfof the Warriorville County School District and the Department of Education, advocating for all six high schools in said district, athletic director and Bluebell High School’s athletic trainer, Mr. West Dupont.”
Fucking Leah.
A meeting, she said. Where all I'd have to do is what I’ve already done—talk about why continual improvement of youth sports is invaluable to a child’s development. That much I could do. My life has been about youth sports—playing them, coaching them, training the athletes,watching, all of it. I had no doubts about being able to deliver the message.
Speaking on that very topic in a room full of legislators the moment before they’re about to vote on funding? Not the same fucking thing.
I didn’t even rehearse the cards I used for the last meeting. I thought I’d limp in and wing it from passion, wing it from the heart, because I do believe in my cause.
But standing in front of a room full of men in suits with actual fucking cufflinks, and women who wear nylons on the daily? It’s a lot different than a room of your overworked, underpaid peers.
I climb the stairs to the stage where a small, wooden podium is situated. I swapped my leather cowboy boots for some slide on leather Chelsea boots, and instead of my nice jeans, I opted for black dress slacks.
Thank fuck.
Everyone here is dressed nicely, and with my pressed polo and cowboy hat up top, I’ve got just enough touches of refinement that I don’t stand out. Still, as I peer into the audience of full seats, everyone wearing suits and ironed blouses, I’m glad I changed.
After an obligatory few seconds where I move the mic around and make sure it’s on, I clear my throat, and lift my eyes back to the room. Most of these people are parents, and I have no doubt they’re racing around from practice to game, trying to fit in all of their kids’ after school dreams. Most parents do.
I look down to my hand, where I’m palming a stack of cards, cards with a speech that speaks to people like me—teachers, teachers who are sick and tired of losing funding to bureaucratic bullshit who will now fight to the death on principle—and decide to go off the cuff.
Parents are what teachers loathe most. But for me, they’re the easiest to handle because you know just what’s important to them.
Raising their child the best they can. Giving them the most. Teaching them all the valuable lessons. Preparing them for the world. Then sending them off, and hoping that they launch and add value and depth to everyone and everything around them.
Complex in action, but simple to understand.
“Good morning folks. First I’d like to say a gracious thank you for the opportunity to speak on behalf of the young athletes in our schools and communities. As an athletic director and athletic trainer for both the Warriorville County District and Bluebell High School, I want to talk about what I witness daily.” I take a pause, searching eyes, sweeping faces, seeing where it’s all landing so far.
I get eye contact. Head nods. Shoulders lifted, spines straight. I still have them. So I continue.
“Sports have the transformative power of shaping children into healthy, resilient young adults. I urge you to prioritize funding for youth sports programs, as they are more than extracurricular activities—they are crucial investments in our children’s physical, mental, and social development.” Another pause, another pulse check on the room around me. Still engaged, still listening. Briefly I run down what I’d normally say next. I’d typically speak to the physical health statistics, leaning into childhood obesity and the diseases that come with it. But these are tired parents who may not always have time to make a green salad or steam some broccoli. The last thing they need is subtle or subliminal shaming. Instead, I decide to speak to the positive habits sports creates rather than focusing on the negative things sports are used to combat.
“Sports provide structured opportunities for exercise, teaching lifelong habits of physical activity. In my role as an athletic trainer at Bluebell High—” I glance up, and thrust a closed fist in the air, gently cheering— “Go Bruisers!” which earns me a quiet uproar of chuckles. “I see students of all ages and abilities build strength, coordination, and cardiovascular health through sports, setting them on a path to healthier adulthoods. Beyond physical benefits, sports cultivate mental and emotional resilience. Participation in athletics teaches discipline, goal-setting, and perseverance. When a student faces a tough loss, pushes through a grueling practice, works through a painful injury, they learn to overcome adversity—a skill that translates to academic and personal challenges.”
A few people shift in their seats, and I lock eyes with a man in the front row, sweat shiny on his forehead as he nods along. There’s interest in how I’m going to bridge the gap between sports and a better student, but because it’s the truth, the answer is easy. I scan the folks one more time, and go for it.
