Daddy's Sweet Little Poppy

What a filthy little thing you're being

Chapter 5

Poppy

By the time I got home, my panties were a disaster and my head was still spinning from what happened in class. I hadn’t texted Daddy about it. I didn’t even know how to start.

I licked my lips thinking about how close I had been to offering to suck that guy's c**k. His name was Thomas and he was my department asshole. He said he would send the video to the department group page unless I did something for him. I agreed to but he hadn't told what it was yet.

I stepped into the dining room and froze.

Mom was back.

“Poppy!” she said brightly, rising to hug me. “You’re just in time. I ordered your favorite.”

“Hi,” I said, trying not to look guilty like a girl who loved her step Daddy's c**k. Or like a girl who had just been blackmailed.

Daddy was already seated at the head of the table, wine glass in hand. His eyes slid to me, slow and assessing, and my stomach flipped.

He knew. He always knew when I was hiding something.

I sat next to him, my heart hammering.

Mom chatted about her trip, Paris this time, but I could feel Daddy’s knee brushing mine under the table teasing me. She brought up the murders too, it's all everyone was talking about.

"...They said the killer left some kind of ring at the site..."

I could hardly listen with Sebastian's hand sliding up my thigh. I nearly choked on my drink.

Mom didn’t notice, still going on and on about the murder. "it's a serial killer I tell you. And how was he so foolish enough to leave a wedding ring at the site?"

Daddy’s fingers reached my panties. He found them soaked through and he made a low, satisfied sound under his breath.

“What?” Mom asked, glancing at him.

“Just agreeing,” Daddy said smoothly, his fingers pulling my panties aside.

I bit down on my lip hard as he slid a thick finger inside me under the table.

Mom kept talking while his finger hit my hymen. He hummed again. My stepdaddy wanted my virginity intact until he could break it and I ached for the day that he would.

Daddy curled his fingers just right, and I had to grip my fork to keep from grabbing his wrist.

“Eat,” he murmured without looking at me.

I forced a bite of food into my mouth, barely tasting it.

Every thrust of his finger sent heat shooting up my spine, my thighs trembling under the tablecloth.

“Mm, Poppy?” Mom asked suddenly. “You okay?”

“Y–yeah,” I said but my voice way too high.

Daddy smirked. By the time dinner was over, I was dripping down my thighs and shaking so hard I could barely stand.

Daddy didn’t let me c*m yet and it drove me mad.

The moment Mom stood up to grab dessert, Daddy murmured that he would clean up dishes. I offered to help him. In the kitchen, he rolled his sleeves up and stood by the sink, rinsing dishes like nothing was wrong.

“Get under the sink and on your knees, Poppy," he said softly.

I knelt between his legs, looking up at the sweet bulge of his d**k in his pants.

He unzipped his trousers, pulling himself out, already hard and leaking precum.

"Daddy thought about you all day," He groaned, slapping his d**k on my face. Precum splattered all over my cheeks and jaw. "Do you know how hard it is to work while thinking of you sucking my c**k, poppy? Open up,"

I took him into my mouth eagerly, tongue swirling, sucking hard.

Daddy hissed through his teeth and grabbed the edge of the counter with one hand, the other sliding into my hair.

That’s when Mom’s heels clicked back toward the kitchen.

Daddy didn’t move or flinch, just looked over his shoulder. His massive body, covered the view of me under the sink with my mouth full of his c**k.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, setting the dessert plate down. “Where’s Poppy?”

“In her room,” Daddy said smoothly, stroking my head like he was just scratching an itch. “Probably changing.”

I nearly choked around his c**k, my face burning.

Mom nodded and started talking about some antique shop she found in Paris. Daddy kept his voice calm, as he tightened his grip in my hair and pushed deeper into my throat.

I swallowed hard, tears springing to my eyes as I fought to stay quiet. When Mom’s back was turned, rummaging in the fridge, my step daddy took the chance to rut hard against my mouth, pounding and f*****g my mouth and throat. His thighs tensed, hips snapped forward until I gagged.

Then she turned back around, and he went still again, smiling like nothing was happening.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Perfect,” he grunted, running his hand down my hair.

When she left again, Daddy exhaled a low, dark laugh. “You like this, don’t you? Knowing she has no idea what a filthy little thing you’re being.”

I moaned around him in answer.

“Don’t you dare c*m," he warned, thrusting again, slow and deep, until my nose brushed his stomach.

Mom came back a second time, and I went still, tears streaming down my face as Daddy kept himself buried in my throat, holding me there.

I could barely breathe, my body shaking with the need to c*m, to move, to do something.

When she left again, Daddy finally let out a rough groan. “Finish it.”

I sucked him hard, taking him deep until his hips jerked and he spilled his hot c*m down my throat.

I swallowed everything, dizzy with relief, gulping him down.

“Good girl,” he whispered, zipping up like nothing happened just as Mom came back with coffee.

I stayed hidden, shaking all over, knowing my lipstick was smeared and my throat was wrecked and loving every second of it. My eyes drifted to Daddy's long fingers as they stroked my face. Then I noticed his fingers were bare.

Mom's words about the killer leaving a wedding ring at the site filled my head.

Where was... Where was Daddy's wedding ring to my mom?