Page 3 of Daddy's Tiny Little Dancer

I order myself a pepperoni with a side of hot wings and head to the living room. I take a sip and set the drink on a coaster on the coffee table, then reach for the remote.

And that’s where I am when the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen walks into the living room. She is just out of the shower and is completely naked, without even a towel to cover her perfect little body. She moves gracefully—like a dancer—and I am so stunned by her that I stare silently while she walks into the living room looking at her phone. She sets it on the coffee table next to my drink and turns to me.

She jumps and when she quickly covers her breasts and pussy, I blink and remember myself. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I, uh, I didn’t know anyone else was home.”

“Who are you?” she shrieks.

“I’m Cliff’s friend,” I say. “Hunter Manly. Sorry about the name.”

That’s the standard line I use whenever I introduce myself. Of course, now is when I would realize that it’s not all that funny.

“Oh,” she says, relaxing a little. “Oh, Charity told me about you. She just texted me. Hi! Um, sorry for being naked.”

“No need to apologize,” I say and mean it.

It’s a wholly inappropriate thought to have, but I can’t help thinking that she can be naked as much as she wants to be. Fortunately, I have enough control of myself now that I don’t say that out loud. What I do say is a much more acceptable, “You’re Cliff’s little girl’s friend?”

Her eyes widen when I say that, and I wonder for a moment if I’ve said something I shouldn’t have. Then she says, “You’re a Daddy?” and I realize that I let the term little girl slip.

I open my mouth to apologize, but the apology never comes out because she suddenly throws herself on top of me and kisses me.

CHAPTER THREE

Cady

I can’t believe I’m kissing this man. I can taste the whiskey he’s drinking and for some reason that thrills me. I guess it kind of adds to the whole idea of this being some kind of reckless encounter, a complete idiot and silly thing.

My God, I’m naked!

And I’m kissing a Daddy.

The truth is, he might as well be my fantasy Daddy. I mean, it’s not like I know this man’s name. In my fantasies, the man is always just Daddy.

And this guy definitely fits my fantasy. His chest is broad and powerful. His upper body is muscular as hell and his arms are just as strong as he holds me. I can feel my nipples, hard as hell against his skin, and the sensations are almost overpowering. I mean, this man is about as perfect a man as I can imagine from a purely physical standpoint.

Jesus Christ!

Purely physical?

That’s all that’s going on here! I don’t know a damned thing about him. I pull my mouth back. My intention is to ask his name. Instead, I breathe out, “Oh, Daddy,” and kiss him again. As I do, I slide my hand down his six-pack abs and right into his sweatpants. I let out a sigh against his kiss as I get my hand around his shaft.

He’s big.

He’s scary big.

I think I kiss him more earnestly just because I’m trying to delay things moving forward because of how big he is. His hands move down, and he grips my ass tightly. I realize that enormous dick is going to end up in me, and I almost panic.

I slide to my knees and pull his sweatpants off. I want to give myself time to work up the courage but now I see the big thing right in front of my face. I don’t know if I can fit it in my mouth, but I can’t just kneel there and look at it. Finally, I kiss the tip and then open up. It takes effort just to get my mouth over the head!

I settle into the process, though, and as I get used to accommodate his girth, I manage a little depth. Not a lot of course. I guess I get about two or three inches in my mouth. I put one hand on his balls and use the other to stroke his shaft as I move my tongue as much as I can and suck for all I’m worth. I actually feel good about the success I’m having. I mean, this thing just isn’t going to go much deeper than I’ve got it. A person would need an elastic throat to manage that.

I moan around his cock and all of the craziness about me doing this with a complete stranger kind of changes into something naughty and exciting instead.

And then he lifts me up and sets me on the couch. I gasp and intend to tell him I’m not sure I can take him, but he doesn’t try to put his cock in me. Instead, he drops to his knees in front of the couch, and I feel his mouth on my pussy.

At this point, it doesn’t matter what I intend to tell him because all of the breath is driven from my lungs. My mouth drops open but the scream I release is silent. My stomach stiffens and my entire body tenses except for my arms, which alternate between gripping his hair, gripping the couch cushions, and gripping my breasts. When his hands move to my breasts, they simply flail in the air before returning to the back of his head.

“Oh God, Daddy!” I finally manage to say.

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