Oh shit, not justfeelingshaky. I was actually shaking.
“Shhhh,” he said, rubbing my arms like he had on the porch. Then he took my hand, lacing our fingers together like we were a couple about to have a romantic walk on the beach or some shit. “Come on, baby. Daddy’s got you.”
He took me back to his bedroom and took my pants off. Took off the sexy little briefs I’d worn that clung to my ass like a second skin. Sat me on the bed and took off my socks—down on his knees for me not six inches away from my hard, leaking cock without giving it any attention at all—and I just… let him. Which, I mean, sure, I usually let guys who wanted to fuck me take the lead and do it the way they wanted, so that part wasn’t so much weird. The weird part was that, usually, guys who wanted to fuck me actuallydidfuck me. Or sometimes blow me. And definitely never said no to me blowingthem.
Except none of what Andy was doing actuallyfeltweird. Or at least, not bad-weird.
“Stand up, sweetheart,” Andy said once he had all my clothes off, his voice totally steady even though I knew how good I looked naked. Not being a douche here, but I’d been eating right and working out on the daily for half my damn life, and it was just hashtag-fact. Still, the way he was so fucking calm about it would have made me self conscious or some shit—like, wondering if he was even into this—if it hadn’t been for the way his eyes were eating me up, pupils all blown to fuck as they scorched me with a molten, possessive heat that seared right through me.
Or the fact that no matter how steady his hands were, his cock was straining against his pants, a wet spot forming near the tip as it pressed against the material so hard that I could tell he was cut.
Or... shit. Just the way he had all his attention, likeallof it, completely focused on me. Like I was the only thing he could see. The only thing that mattered to him right now. Like he didn’t just want to fuck; he wanted to fuckme.
I stood up like he’d just told me to, almost feeling drunk on all that attention, and... Andy sat down.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my tongue feeling thick and my brain slow. He was seated on the edge of the bed, patting his lap. “Aren’t you, uh, going to get naked, too?”
“Come here,” Andy said instead of answering me, patting his lap again and then reaching out and pulling me toward him. “I’m going to give you what you asked for.”
“What?” I said again, feeling stupid. Too turned on and off balance to follow along. But then Andy somehow maneuvered me down over his lap, draped me over it kind of awkwardly, my feet on the floor and my head hanging down on the other side, and I caught on. “You’re actually going to spank me?”
“That’s right, baby,” Andy said, petting my ass. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
Yeah. Okay. I just needed to tell him no, because I didn’t actuallywantto get spanked… right? That had just been a thing to play for the camera. Hot in porn, but this? I felt off kilter and, hanging over his lap like this,literallyoff balance. Vulnerable in a way that made my stomach squirrelly again… but at the same time, I also felt safe. And petted. And cared for. And horny.
Fuck.
Fuckingfuck.
Reallyhorny.
“I… don’t know,” I said, my cock swelling as he kept rubbing my ass, his hand smoothing over my cheeks and down my thighs and then teasing back up over my crack, over and over, while he waited for me to decide. “I…”
Having his hands on me felt really fucking good, but my stomach was jumping and the blood was rushing to my head, making it hard to think.
But he was still waiting, so I had to, uh, say something. Decide. Tell him.
“Andy, I…”
Fuuuuuucccckkkkkk. Just sayno, shitbrain.
I swallowed, trying again. “I don’t… uh, I don’t think...”
I suddenly couldn’t breathe right, my hands flailing out and my legs stiffening in some kind of spasm or some shit. It felt like I was falling, except I couldn’t, because Andy had one arm wrapped around my waist, holding me steady.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, still petting my ass in that mesmerizing rhythm. “Your ass is gorgeous. So soft.”
I laughed… which for some reason sounded more like a choked-off sob. Soft was thelastthing I was. My ass was tight as fuck and my cock was a steel pipe and I felt like I might puke and I was terrified he’d stop, all at the same time.
“Like a dewy flower petal,” he went on, his palm curving over my ass, over and over like some kind of calming drug, until I was finally breathing like a normal person again. “Is that what you are, baby? My pretty flower. Skin as soft as a petal. Sexy and strong and needy and beautiful. And you belong right here, don’t you? Draped over Daddy’s lap, just like this, where I can take care of you.”
My head was buzzing. I couldn’t… couldn’t… it was too much. I mean, yeah, my skinshouldbe soft. I exfoliated and waxed and paid way too fucking much for this moisturizer imported from France that I used on the daily. But the rest, not just what he was saying, buthowhe said it. What itfeltlike when he said it…
I definitely wasn’t cut out for this kinky shit. It fucked with my head. But—
“Okay,” I whispered anyway, my stomach tangled up in knots. Itdidfuck with my head, but in a way that made me want more. So maybe, just this once...
“Okay what, petal?”
