Page 30 of Wild Daddy

"Jesus. You’re… terrifyingly good at this."

Her lips slide down a little farther. I groan. Guide her by the hair, but not hard. Just enough to say I’m here.

"Gonna stop now. Not 'cause it isn't perfect, but because I need you on my face."

Her head jerks up. "What?"

I take her hand, grab some of the blankets from the shelf and kick them open on the floor, then lay down. "Come here with that sweet pussy." I pat my chest. "Knees on either side. Right now."

She hesitates. "Like… sit on you?"

"Exactly like that. You trust me, right?"

She nods, breath catching. Lowering herself into position, thighs bracketing my face, hesitant until she feels my hands on her hips.

"There you go," I murmur. "Just relax. I’ll take care of the rest."

Her weight settles slowly. The scent of her hits me first—warm, sweet, wild. Then the taste. I groan, low and rough, hands tightening just enough to hold her steady. She gasps as my tongue strokes through her, tentative at first. Then deeper.

The thick wool blanket beneath me shifts as she rocks forward, catching under my elbow and nearly taking my balance. I grunt, adjusting, my spine pressing into the hardwood. Not exactly ideal ergonomics. But the view? Flawless.

Her hands dig into my hair. Her hips shift. She moans, high and breathless.

"You're… really good at this," she says between pants.

I grin into her. "Old dog, old tricks. Out of practice though. Thankful for that. Feels brand new with you baby."

"Like how old?" She asks. “I never asked how old you were?”

"Old enough to know exactly what makes you shake like that. Now shut up and come on Daddy’s face."

She whimpers. Her thighs begin to tremble. She rocks forward without thinking, riding each flick of my tongue.

She stiffens above me, her thighs trembling on either side of my face. Then she shatters. A strangled moan rips out of her throat, and I feel the first sudden gush hit my tongue. Her hips kick it up a notch, little girl’s getting into it and I’m in pussy heaven.

She floods my face, mouth, down my neck—hot, surprising, uncontrolled. Her whole body locks up, like a live wire, muscles drawn tight with impossible tension.

"Oh my god," she gasps, voice cracking. Another rush follows. Her thighs clamp around my head and she starts toshake, her hips jerking in confused rhythm. "I—I think I just... Cade!"

I don’t stop. I slow down, lapping gently, anchoring her as she rides out the flood. My hands hold her steady as her body loses all grace and control. Liquid slicks down my cheeks, my jaw, soaking me. She's panting like she’s been running. Dazed. Unraveled.

"That was... female ejaculation," she breathes, half in shock, half in awe. "I read about it but I thought it was—"

"Rare? Mythical? Fake porn science?" I murmur against her inner thigh. "Nope. Very real. Very hot. And you're fucking magnificent."

She looks down at me, wide-eyed, a little horrified. "I just—got you completely wet. Like. Everything."

"Soak me," I say, licking the last taste of her from my lips. "Every time. I want it messy. I want all of it. That? That was better than any goddamn fantasy I've ever had."

Her breathing is uneven, but she grins. Barely.

"Academically speaking," she mumbles, collapsing forward, "I may require a peer-reviewed follow-up."

"You’ll get one," I promise, easing her back down to the blankets. "Every time you ask."

I guide her down, kissing the inside of her knee as I shift her to the blankets. Her breathing is shallow, but she’s glowing.

"I can read you," I say. "You’re ready.”

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