Page 15 of Dean Daddy

“Promise me that you’ll never do something like that again,” I tell her, my voice gruff with anger and lust.

“I promise, daddy. I mean it,” she cries.

I release my dick from its cloth prison and mount her from behind. I press her down against the desk with one hand and grab a fistful of her hair with the other. My obsession with Marcie fuels both my rage and my desire.

“You’re going so deep,” she moans.

“Does it feel good when I fuck you hard and deep?”

“Yes! I love it, daddy.”

“Good because I’m not gonna stop. You’re gonna milk me dry,” I say.

The idea of another man trying to take what’s mine and getting away with it drives my need to dominate her, and she’s more than willing to submit to my aggressive lovemaking. In fact, she reaches her first orgasm just minutes after my first stroke, but I’m still primed and ready to go.

I flip her over and lift up her shirt. I want to play with her pretty tits while I take her. I throw her legs over my shoulders and slide back inside her. She bites down on her lower lip and closes her eyes. The sight of her causes my erection to swell and I know that I don’t have much more to give.

“You’re gonna make me come hard, little girl.” I groan and explode in a perfect pairing of pain and ecstatic release.

I collapse on top of her and try to calm my heaving chest. She wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. We both jump when the phone on the desk beside us begins to ring.

I lift the receiver to my ear and say, “Yes.”

“Dean Mitchell, I know you’re in a meeting but the police are here. They want to talk to you,” my frantic secretary tells me.

“Give me just a moment,” I reply and hang up. I lift my spent form off Marcie’s body and tell her to fix her clothes. “The police are here.”

“What? Oh my god. Are you going to be in trouble for this?” she asks as she picks her discarded panties from the floor.

“It’s gonna be alright,” I tell her but I’m not so certain that it will.

When she’s presentable enough, I tell her to take a seat as I open the door, escorting the two uniformed officers inside.

“We received a call regarding an altercation that occurred between you and a student. Judging by the condition of his face, I’d say you gave him a pretty good beating. Care to tell us why?” the older officer begins.

I motion toward Marcie and say, “This is my stepsister. Today is her first day as an assistant professor. The young man in question held her against her will in the classroom and forcefully prevented her from using her phone to call for help. If I hadn’t come to check on her, who knows what might have happened?” I explain.

“Is this true?” the officer asks Marcie and she nods her head. “So then, why didn’t you call us? And why is this student still on campus?”

“I brought Marcie back here so that I could interview her first. I intended to discipline the young man once I had her statement in hand.”

“As I said, it looks like you’ve already disciplined him but not in a way that we would expect from someone in your position. I’m sorry but we’re going to need to take you into custody. The victim says that he wants to press charges.”

I look at Marcie, who stares in disbelief. “Go home for the day, Marcie. I’ll bail myself out in the morning.”

The officer cuffs me and the pair walk me to the patrol car. I can’t believe this is happening, but I don’t know if things could have gone any other way. He shouldn’t have put his hands on my girl. I’ll suffer any consequences to protect her. I see Marcie standing in the quad as we pull away.

She has tears in her eyes and I know she believes that this is her fault. I’ll spend the night in jail, wishing that I could be with her to console her and tell her that she isn’t to blame. Come hell or high water, I will be back with her tomorrow. She’s all that matters to me.

The police chief and I go back a long way, and he’s waiting for us when we arrive. The officer sits me down beside his desk and walks away so that the chief can speak to me alone. The chief sits down behind the desk and asks, “What happened here, Mason? Was it self-defense or did you just have an ax to grind with this kid?”

I shake my head, “I don’t even know the student's name.”

“Then what do you have to say for yourself? I’ve known you for a long time, and you’ve never lost your temper like this.”

“Like I told the officer, he had a female assistant professor held against her will in a classroom and he got physical when she tried to use her phone to call for help. Maybe I went a little too far but he was in the wrong and she’s…well…she’s my stepsister. I lost my temper, but none of this would have happened if he knew how to respect women. I can’t even begin to imagine what might have happened if I hadn’t shown up.”

“Well, as long as he plans to press charges, it’s your word against his. I might be able to talk him out of it if I can tell him that your stepsister is going to press charges against him. He drops his, and she drops hers, and everybody leaves happy.”

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