Page 95 of For Her Own Good

“Oh, sweet girl. Yes, I’m fine indeed. I just like holding you. Is that so terrible?”

I give her shoulder a teasing nip and she laughs.

“No, not terrible at all.”

“Are you perhaps getting impatient? Hmm?”

While I could soak in her body for a good long while and let how much I adore her flood my brain, I don’t think that’s what Starla was expecting, and it’s perhaps not what she wants. Not now, maybe not ever. Couldn’t say for sure. Don’t know if I want to know.

How badly would I be crushed if this is sex for her and nothing more? It was never just sex for me and it’s definitely not now. I promised her a good fuck though, and that I can deliver.

“Is having Daddy’s fat cock stuffed in your pussy making you a horny little girl?”

She whimpers and sets my brain alight. Those sounds she makes hit very specific pleasure points in my brain.

“Yes, Daddy.”

I lean her back enough that I can see her face with its pretty blush and her hair tumbling around her shoulders, and Christ, she’s lovely and perfect.

“You know I haven’t played with your tits yet today? And that’s a damn shame. They’re so pretty, and your nipples are begging to be pinched.”

I do just that, tweaking both of them, and she sucks air through her teeth but doesn’t tell me to stop. Sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, though.

“Are you a little sensitive today?”

She nods, widens her eyes as though she’s embarrassed. “I’ll get my period soon. They get sore.”

“Mmm.”

I weigh them in my hands, thumbing her nipples until she squirms.

“Just your nipples or all of your tits?”

To emphasize my point, I squeeze and she gasps. She doesn’t need to confirm my suspicions, but she does anyway. “Everything, Daddy.”

I hum thoughtfully again and continue to play with her, being a little rough, and it seems as though she might be sore, but that doesn’t bother her. No, it might make breast play even more enjoyable for her. I can work with that. Yes, I’m getting a bit distracted by the way she’s grinding on my lap—okay, a lot distracted—but I can still toy with her, push her, make her squeal and whimper and hopefully have another satiating climax.

I squeeze, knead, pinch, and yes, add the occasional slap. And when I’ve got her panting and rutting against me, mewling and begging, I sculpt my hands around her breasts and clamp my thumbs and forefingers around her nipples. And then tug.

She makes one of those sexy, muddled pleading sounds, and yes, she likes that. Which is nice, but I also want to prod at her embarrassment buttons. Not hard enough to verge into humiliation because I don’t think she’d enjoy that, but a thin varnish of shame can add a dimension to these things and I want her to feel it all. To feel as deeply as I do.

“Now you do it,” I say, not letting up on the grasp I have on her nipples. “Lean back and show me how hard you want your sore nipples pinched and tugged.”

She looks at me with widened, unbelieving eyes. I want her to dowhat?

“Go on then. I’m not going to move an inch. If you want that feeling—and I think you do because you’re a naughty, filthy little girl who likes Daddy to be rough with her perfect tits—then you’re going to have to get it yourself.”

Her chin wrinkles, and like the demoness she is, she squeezes my cock with her internal muscles. Oh, she wants to play this way? I don’t think so.

“I felt that. You think you can outlast me? I could lift you off my cock, put you across my knee and give you a punishment spanking for not following my instructions, but I think you’d rather grind your way to an orgasm on my cock while we make your tits even sorer. I for one would rather come inside your tight, hot cunt than have a wank in the shower. Up to you, though.”

Her frown deepens, and she’s cute as a frustrated kitten when she pouts. Still restive as one too. But much as I suspected she would, she pulls back experimentally from where I still have her nipples pinched between my fingers and closes her eyes, a slight wince crossing her features. But, hands gripping my shoulders, she does it again, and again. Harder this time. Farther. And now she’s determined.

Bucking on me like she can’t get enough of my cock or the torment we’re subjecting her breasts to, she whines and holds on to me harder.

“Are you going to come, little girl? Be my shooting Star?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

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