DADDY'S LITTLE SLUT

CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3

I left the kitchen with my thighs still sticky and the taste of him lingering on my tongue. Upstairs, I closed the guest-room door and stripped the tank top off. My reflection in the mirror looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, n*****s still hard, a shiny trail of my own come drying on my inner thighs.

I needed to look normal for dinner.

I pulled on a soft white sundress, the kind that floated around my thighs and dipped low enough in front that the tops of my t**s showed if I leaned forward. No bra. No panties. Just the thin cotton that would ride up the second I sat down. I brushed my hair, fixed my face, and went back downstairs like nothing had happened.

Dinner was pizza on the back deck, the three of us around the wooden table under string lights. Lily talked the whole time—about her new job, some guy she’d been texting, plans for the lake tomorrow. I nodded and laughed in the right places. Marcus sat across from me. Every time our eyes met, the air between us went tight.

“How’s work treating you these days, Mr. Hale?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

He took a slow drink of his beer. “Busy. Same as always. You still interning at that design firm?”

“Yeah. They might keep me on full-time after summer.” I leaned forward for another slice, letting the neckline of the sundress gape just enough. His gaze dropped for half a second before he forced it back up.

Lily grinned. “Dad’s been working too hard. He needs to actually relax for once.”

Marcus gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m relaxing. You’re both here. That’s enough.”

The conversation drifted—old summer memories, a trip they’d taken years ago when I tagged along, the time we all got caught in the rain. I kept my legs crossed under the table so the wetness between them wouldn’t leave a mark on the chair. Every time Marcus’s knee brushed mine under the wood, my cunt clenched.

By ten the pizza boxes were empty and Lily was yawning. “I’m wiped. Long drive plus unpacking. You guys staying up?”

Marcus shook his head. “Turning in soon.”

I stretched, the sundress riding high on my thighs. “Same. I’m exhausted.”

We said goodnight. Lily disappeared into her room at the end of the hall. I went into the guest room, closed the door, and listened. Marcus’s footsteps moved past, then the soft click of his bedroom door.

I waited.

At 12:17 I heard his door open again. Soft footsteps in the hall. A pause outside Lily’s room—probably checking that she was out cold—then the quiet turn of my doorknob.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

I was already naked on the bed, sheets kicked to the floor. Spread out beside me were everything I’d packed in the bottom of my suitcase: a thick pink dildo that matched the size I’d imagined him to be, a smaller curved one for my ass, a powerful wand vibrator, a pair of n****e clamps with little weights, a bottle of lube, and a sleek black c**t-sucking toy. The air smelled like the lube I’d already slicked over the toys and the fresh wetness between my legs.

Marcus froze. His eyes moved from my bare t**s to my open thighs to the collection of toys and back again. He swallowed hard.

“Vanessa…”

“I got ready for you,” I whispered. “Been thinking about this since I was eighteen. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

He crossed the room slowly, like he was fighting every step. When he reached the edge of the bed he stared down at my glistening cunt, already dripping onto the sheets.

“This is wrong,” he muttered, voice rough. “You’re my daughter’s best friend. You’re twenty. I shouldn’t—”

I sat up, took his hand, and guided it between my legs. His fingers slid through the mess. “Feel how wet I am for you. I’ve been like this for years. Every time you hugged me, every time you drove me home, I went to bed and f****d myself thinking about your mouth, your c**k, your hands. Lily’s asleep. No one has to know. Please, Mr. Hale… I need you.”

His breathing turned heavy. The last of his resistance cracked. He shoved me flat on my back, yanked my thighs wide, and dropped his mouth onto my cunt like a man starving.

There was nothing gentle about it.

He licked me in long, filthy strokes from my dripping hole up to my c**t, then sucked the swollen bud hard between his lips. I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. His tongue pushed inside me, f*****g me open, then he replaced it with two thick fingers and curled them while he attacked my c**t with wet, relentless suction.

“f**k—yes—” I gasped, hips bucking. He pinned my thighs down with his forearms and kept going, louder, messier, the wet sounds of him eating me filling the room. Spit and my come ran down his chin. He growled against my p***y like he hated how much he loved the taste.

He reached blindly for the wand vibrator, switched it on high, and pressed the buzzing head against my c**t while his tongue kept working lower. The dual sensation ripped through me. My back arched off the bed. I came hard within a minute, thighs shaking around his head, cunt pulsing and flooding his mouth. He didn’t stop. He licked me through it, then kept going until I was whimpering and oversensitive.

“Toys,” he muttered against my soaked folds. “You brought all this for me to use on you?”

“Yes—please—use all of them—”

He grabbed the thick pink dildo, coated it in lube, and pushed it into my cunt in one slow, relentless thrust. I was so wet it slid in easy, stretching me open. He f****d me with it hard and deep while the wand stayed locked on my c**t. My second orgasm hit almost immediately, body jerking, a fresh gush of slick coating the toy and his hand.

He pulled the dildo out, shiny and dripping, and replaced it with his mouth again, sucking my come off my folds while he reached for the smaller curved toy. Lube clicked open. He pressed the slick tip against my tight asshole.

“Breathe,” he ordered.

I did. He pushed it in slow, inch by inch, until it was buried and my ass was full. The stretch burned in the best way. Then the thick dildo was back in my cunt, both holes stuffed, and the wand was buzzing against my c**t again. He worked the toys in opposite rhythms—f*****g my p***y deep while the plug in my ass shifted with every thrust. I came a third time with a broken moan, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes from how intense it was.

Marcus stood, stripped off his clothes in rough motions, and climbed onto the bed. His c**k looked even bigger up close—thick, heavy, the head dark and leaking. He pulled both toys out of me at once. I felt empty and open and desperate.

He flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and buried his face in my cunt from behind, tongue f*****g me while his thumbs spread my ass cheeks. Then he was kneeling behind me, rubbing the head of his c**k up and down my dripping slit.

“This is so f*****g wrong,” he groaned, but he pushed in anyway—slow at first, then harder, until every thick inch was inside me and his hips were flush against my ass. I bit the pillow to stay quiet. He was bigger than the dildo, hotter, alive. He started f*****g me in deep, punishing strokes, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“Harder,” I begged. “Use me—please—”

He did. He f****d me like he’d been holding back for years, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, c**k slamming into the deepest part of me. One hand reached under and rubbed my c**t. I came again, cunt clamping down on him so tight he had to slow for a second.

He pulled out, flipped me onto my back, hooked my knees over his shoulders, and drove back in. This angle hit differently—deeper, rougher. He leaned down and sucked on my t**s while he pounded me, teeth scraping my n*****s. I grabbed the n****e clamps from the bed, clipped them on myself, and the sharp bite of pain mixed with the pleasure made me cry out into his shoulder.

He kept going. Missionary until my legs shook, then he pulled out, sat back against the headboard, and dragged me into his lap so I could ride him. I sank down on his c**k, taking every inch, and started bouncing hard. He held my waist and thrust up to meet me. The c**t-sucking toy found its way between us; he pressed it against me and turned it on. The intense suction plus the stretch of his c**k made me come so hard my vision went white. I collapsed against his chest, still grinding, still full.

He wasn’t done.

He laid me on my side, spooned behind me, and slid back into my cunt from behind while one hand played with the clamps on my n*****s and the other rubbed my c**t. Slow, deep, filthy strokes. Then he pulled out, coated his c**k in more lube, and pressed the head against my ass.

“You want this too?” he asked, voice strained.

“Yes—f**k my ass, Mr. Hale—I’ve touched myself thinking about it—”

He pushed in slow, letting me adjust to the thick stretch. Once he was buried he started thrusting, one hand reaching around to push two fingers into my empty cunt so I was full in both holes again. I came with a silent scream, body locking up.

He flipped me onto my hands and knees again, f****d my ass harder, then pulled out and pushed back into my p***y. We moved through every position I could think of—me on top reverse, him standing at the edge of the bed with my legs in the air, me bent over the side of the mattress while he pounded me from behind, the wand pressed to my c**t the entire time. Toys went in and out of whichever hole his c**k wasn’t filling. The sheets were soaked. My thighs were shiny. His c**k glistened with my come.

By the time he finally started to lose rhythm I was a shaking, overstimulated mess, voice hoarse from trying to stay quiet.

“Inside,” I begged. “Come inside me—please—I want to feel it—”

He groaned, buried himself to the hilt in my cunt, and came hard, pulsing thick ropes of heat deep inside me. I felt every spurt. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his c*m deeper, until he finally stilled.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard. His forehead rested against my shoulder. I could feel his c**k still twitching inside me, the slow leak of his c*m starting to drip out around him.

After a long minute he pulled out carefully. A thick mix of his c*m and my wetness spilled onto the sheets. He looked down at the mess between my legs, at the toys scattered across the bed, at my flushed, marked body.

“This stays between us,” he said quietly.

I reached down, scooped some of the c*m leaking out of me, and licked it off my fingers while he watched.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Hale.”

He exhaled hard, almost a laugh, and kissed me for the first time—deep, filthy, tasting himself and me mixed together. Then he started gathering his clothes.

Outside the window the lake was silent. Lily’s room stayed dark.

The night was far from over.