over his lap now. “Please stop!”
“Open your legs,” Lance said, resting his hand on one warm cheek.
She looked back at him, tossing her head to clear the hair from her face. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“Open your legs,” he repeated, pushing her pants and panties further down. She squirmed in resistance, but there was no real will behind it and soon the pants and panties were on the floor. “Spread your legs,” he repeated.
“Why?”
He brought his hand down—hard this time, and the tears in her eyes spilled over as she slowly parting her thighs in compliance.
Tiffany forced herself to look back at him as he dipped his hand between her soft thighs, nesting there as his fingers skimmed the mound of her labia before breaching her drenched slit. He plumbed further, pushing past the slick folds now as he pushed his digits deeper into her soaked pussy. She felt herself contract on his fingers, heard herself moan. She could smell the tang of her own excitement and knew he could, too.
She was writhing on his lap now.
“So beautiful,” he said, looking down to where his hand emerged and retreated between her legs. He brought a slick finger to his mouth, and she watched, mesmerized as he sucked her essence from the tip.
“I want to lift you off this chair, bend you over the table, and fuck the hell out of you,” he said.
“Please,” she said. “Please fuck me!” The words had come out of her mouth unbidden. She gasped in embarrassed surprise and he raised her to sitting as she began to apologize.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Do you know how happy it makes me, knowing that you want me as much as I want you?”
“Then why?” she began, her need all but pounding like a drum in her pussy.
“Because you’re special,” he said, his eyes on hers as she looked up at him, her expression pleading. “I want more than just sex from you. I want you to recognize me both as your lover and your authority figure. I want you completely trusting and submissive, and not doubting yourself or me. I want you to trust me like a little girl trusts her daddy. When you’re ready to call me daddy, it’ll be time.”
He had his hand on her clit, and she was moving her pelvis into his touch.
“I’ll say it,” she said.
“No!” he said sternly. “Not until you can mean it.” His tone turned gentle. “I want it to be real, Tiffany, for both of us. I want you to be sure this is what you want…” He paused. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to deny you relief.” He began to move his fingers again, slipping two digits into her sopping pussy as the pad of his thumb once again found her clit and pressed. She cried out, and Lance tightened his grip as she came hard on his fingers. He stood, holding her, and brought his lips down on hers, his gentle kiss in complete juxtaposition to the carnal play of his fingers.
Tiffany’s mind was reeling. The sweet, almost paternal kiss combined with the feel of his practiced fingers was the sexiest thing she ever felt. Usually, she was overly conscious of her body. But she was dripping now and didn’t even care. His cock was so hard. She could feel it through his pants when he held her close. His next words to her were just icing on the cake.
“Such a good girl,” he said, making her knees go weak. “Such a very, very good girl…”
Chapter Six: Homework Assignment
After thinking that no one would ever really listen to her again, Tiffany was glad that she’d met someone who refused to listen to some of what she said.
She’d given Lance Sawyer more than enough reason to doubt that she was worth his time, and he’d ignored her every argument. What’s more, he’d somehow managed to make her feel pretty and cherished and—most amazing of all—safe and small in the shelter of his arms.
Would that good feeling last? Tiffany knew he was right. He couldn’t fix her completely; even if he was treating her like his little girl, it would
“Open your legs,” Lance said, resting his hand on one warm cheek.
She looked back at him, tossing her head to clear the hair from her face. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“Open your legs,” he repeated, pushing her pants and panties further down. She squirmed in resistance, but there was no real will behind it and soon the pants and panties were on the floor. “Spread your legs,” he repeated.
“Why?”
He brought his hand down—hard this time, and the tears in her eyes spilled over as she slowly parting her thighs in compliance.
Tiffany forced herself to look back at him as he dipped his hand between her soft thighs, nesting there as his fingers skimmed the mound of her labia before breaching her drenched slit. He plumbed further, pushing past the slick folds now as he pushed his digits deeper into her soaked pussy. She felt herself contract on his fingers, heard herself moan. She could smell the tang of her own excitement and knew he could, too.
She was writhing on his lap now.
“So beautiful,” he said, looking down to where his hand emerged and retreated between her legs. He brought a slick finger to his mouth, and she watched, mesmerized as he sucked her essence from the tip.
“I want to lift you off this chair, bend you over the table, and fuck the hell out of you,” he said.
“Please,” she said. “Please fuck me!” The words had come out of her mouth unbidden. She gasped in embarrassed surprise and he raised her to sitting as she began to apologize.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Do you know how happy it makes me, knowing that you want me as much as I want you?”
“Then why?” she began, her need all but pounding like a drum in her pussy.
“Because you’re special,” he said, his eyes on hers as she looked up at him, her expression pleading. “I want more than just sex from you. I want you to recognize me both as your lover and your authority figure. I want you completely trusting and submissive, and not doubting yourself or me. I want you to trust me like a little girl trusts her daddy. When you’re ready to call me daddy, it’ll be time.”
He had his hand on her clit, and she was moving her pelvis into his touch.
“I’ll say it,” she said.
“No!” he said sternly. “Not until you can mean it.” His tone turned gentle. “I want it to be real, Tiffany, for both of us. I want you to be sure this is what you want…” He paused. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to deny you relief.” He began to move his fingers again, slipping two digits into her sopping pussy as the pad of his thumb once again found her clit and pressed. She cried out, and Lance tightened his grip as she came hard on his fingers. He stood, holding her, and brought his lips down on hers, his gentle kiss in complete juxtaposition to the carnal play of his fingers.
Tiffany’s mind was reeling. The sweet, almost paternal kiss combined with the feel of his practiced fingers was the sexiest thing she ever felt. Usually, she was overly conscious of her body. But she was dripping now and didn’t even care. His cock was so hard. She could feel it through his pants when he held her close. His next words to her were just icing on the cake.
“Such a good girl,” he said, making her knees go weak. “Such a very, very good girl…”
Chapter Six: Homework Assignment
After thinking that no one would ever really listen to her again, Tiffany was glad that she’d met someone who refused to listen to some of what she said.
She’d given Lance Sawyer more than enough reason to doubt that she was worth his time, and he’d ignored her every argument. What’s more, he’d somehow managed to make her feel pretty and cherished and—most amazing of all—safe and small in the shelter of his arms.
Would that good feeling last? Tiffany knew he was right. He couldn’t fix her completely; even if he was treating her like his little girl, it would
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