Page 50 of Filthy Business
Me?
I lived to serve.
Chapter 22
Iris
My eyes rolled back as Daddy’s fingers slid up and down my pussy, torturing me as we headed home. This week at work, he’d been out of control—and I loved it. He was getting filthier by the day. Not to mention, a shameless panty thief. It didn’t matter how many pairs I brought into work—they were off at lunchtime, and gone again on the way home.
“Mmm. I don’t think Daddy can wait any longer. I need to stretch that tight little arsehole with my cock,” he said, easing two fingers inside me.“Would you like that, sweetheart?”
I nodded, gripping his wrist, trying to push him deeper—he didn’t.
“Good. You’ll be coming on my dick tonight, not my fingers,” he said, pulling out and pressing his slick fingers to my lips.
I licked them clean.
Tonight was a new experience—one we’d both been waiting for.
It was a tense journey home.
???
We didn’t cook tonight. Daddy had the chef in. As soon as dinner was over, he smacked my backside and told me to get in the bedroom and strip. He needed to load the dishwasher before he was free.
It took me a few moments to undress, and I knew exactly how to rile him up. He’d been sticking all kinds of plugs in my ass, but now it was time for the real deal. I climbed on the bed, placed my shoulders and face on the pillow, but left my ass high in the air.
A perfect invitation. One he wouldn’t be able to resist.
When I heard the bedroom door click shut, my whole body tensed.
“You think you’re ready?” he asked, voice low and amused.
My thighs trembled.
He hadn’t even taken his shirt off. Still fully dressed while I was naked, arched, dripping, and ready.
I felt the bed dip behind me and the unmistakable sound of lube popping open.
“Didn’t even wait for me, did you?” he said, voice low, rough, amused.“Face down, ass up… with your tight little holes on display, greedy little brat.”
Cool liquid dripped between my cheeks, making me shiver. I heard his hum of approval as he slicked his fingers, then pressed one against my tightest hole.
“Say thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I whimpered, bracing for the stretch.
He didn’t rush. That first finger pushed in slow, giving me every inch, letting me feel it. I clenched around him, already panting.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” he growled, working the finger in to the knuckle.“Been training you for this and she’s still trying to fight me.”
He pulled back, added more lube, then slid two fingers in this time. My moan echoed off the bedroom walls.
“That’s better,” he murmured.“Open up for Daddy. Let her stretch.”
He scissored them inside me, twisting, curling, massaging me until I was rocking back, whining, begging.
“She’s fluttering around my fingers like she knows what’s coming.”
