Her living room is small and homey, but I barely notice anything else because she's standing in front of me, chest heaving, lips swollen from my kiss, looking at me like she could devourme.
I cup her face in my hands. "We're going to talk about this in more detail soon,” I say, steadying my voice. "Boundaries. Limits. What you need, what I need. But right now—" I strokeher cheek and feel her shiver "—I need to know you understand what you're asking for."
"I understand," she says, desire written all over her face. "And I know what I want." She turns her head and presses a kiss to my palm. "I wantyou."
Damn, she has me fighting not to shake. "Safeword."
"Offside," she says quickly.
Appropriate given her soccer background.
Something inside me unlocks. She knows this isn't some naive fantasy—she understands the dynamic. And she's choosing this. Choosingme.
"Good girl," I murmur.
The effect is instantaneous. Her whole body goes soft, her eyes fluttering half-closed, a small sound escaping her throat.
Jesus.
I've said those words before. But it never felt this powerful in the past. It never made my blood sing and my heart pound and my cock throb against my zipper.
“Come here,” I say, guiding her to the couch. I sit down, then pull her to stand between my spread knees.
"Strip for me, sweetheart."
She kicks off her shoes as her hands tremble undoing the buttons of her sweater. Slowly she reveals a lacy bralette that barely contains her luscious tits. She pulls off the sweater then unfastens her jeans, shimmying them down her hips to show matching panties.
I watch every movement, my hands curled into fists on my thighs, and it's taking every ounce of discipline I have not to grab her, and ravage every inch of her sexy body.
Patience.
She stands before me, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Her nipples are stiff beneath the lace and I can see the damp spot on her silky little panties.
Her fingers hover at the clasp of her bralette.
"Keep going," I say quietly. "Let Daddy see all of you."
The bralette falls away. Then she slides off the panties. And now she’s naked in front of me, vulnerable and beautiful and trusting me completely.
She's fucking stunning. Her tits are full and round, tipped with tender pink nipples, pebbled and begging to be sucked. Her belly is toned and soft in all the right places, a sweet groove down the center that I plan to follow with my tongue. Her waist dips dramatically before flaring out to hips that were made for my hands. The curve of her ass, so tight and firm, is mouth watering, while those legs go on forever, lean and muscled from years of hard work on the soccer field.
But my eyes zero in on the decadent spot between her thighs, glistening just for me.
"Sit." I pat my thigh. “Here on Daddy’s lap, with your back to me.”
She does, and I groan at the heat of her against my jeans. She's soaking wet—I can feel it through the denim.
I reach around and cup her tits, kneading them gently, savoring the weight of them in my hands. She moans, her back arching to press them more firmly into my palms. I brush my fingers over her hard nipples and she shudders, her thighs tightening. When I circle the peaks teasingly, she whimpers and squirms, gasping with my touch, hips rocking.
“My baby likes having her tits played with…” I murmur, approvingly.
“Y-yes,” she breathes.
I trail my hands down her sides, feeling the goosebumps that rise in my wake. She’s trembling, a fine vibration running through her entire body. When I grip her waist, then slide my fingers over hips and legs, she moans again. And as I circle herknees and then tease back upward toward her center, her nails dig into my flanks.
“Oh yes, so sensitive,” I whisper.
She can’t stop moving…fidgeting, shifting, shaking, and grinding against my leg in tiny desperate motions. Every touch pulls a new reaction from her: a shiver when I drag my fingers under her breasts, a gasp when I stroke down her belly, a full-body tremor when I brush dangerously close to her pussy.
