I sit shirtless on the edge of my bed, praying the rosary for the third time.
There is something particularly vile about reciting the words when I'm covered in a sheen of sweat and my c**k is dripping in my boxers. I'm all but shaking with the animal need to walk across the hall and pummel that little p***y. It's mine. She has offered it to me. She was mine the second I spotted her on the security monitor.
But I'm going to stay strong.
I'm going to help this abused girl. Assist her in starting a new life, finding her footing.
She's not going to start her life as a plaything for a man twice her age.
I'm not the kind of man who has playthings, either. I'm not some sick pervert who role plays and calls himself Daddy.
That's exactly what you ache to be. For her.
Yeah. Somehow she's made
