Page 64 of Filthy Mouth
“Hello, Princess,” Daddy murmured as I turned to kiss him, rubbing my hand in the bubbles on his head.“Go and get ready. We just have story time, then bedtime, don’t we?”
Olivia groaned, just like her Daddy.
I kissed her again, enjoying her tight hug as I whispered in her ear. She giggled and rubbed her ear against her shoulder.
“Tickles, Mummy.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”
“Love you,” she echoed back.
“Right, Olivia. Let’s get you rinsed off and wrapped in a warm towel.”
I left him to it. We had a day trip planned for Olivia tomorrow. Magnus, Iris, their son and daughter were joining us. I couldn’t deny that listening to Benedict and Magnus bicker was highly entertaining for the rest of us, but no matter how bad it got, they always laughed it off. Iris was more civilised, like me.
I climbed the stairs, staring at all of our pictures, pausing at my mother’s. The wrong parent had died in that car accident, but every so often, I could feel her presence, and it gave me peace. When I reached our bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes and shoes, tying my hair in a knot before taking a body shower.
I traced my fingers over my stretch marks with a smile. Unlike Iris and Magnus, we’d decided not to have any more children. There was no need; our little family was perfect as it was. I quickly washed and rinsed off, towel-dried myself, and slipped on my black silk robe. I left the bedroom and made my way upstairs.
The live-in nanny would be there if Olivia woke up while we were occupied. Our red room stayed locked these days—Olivia was an inquisitive three-year-old.
I stood on tiptoe and took the key off the hook, unlocking the door. Once inside, I hung the key on the hook fixed to the wall. I’d been looking forward to tonight since this morning.
I went to our jars of filth and dipped my hand into Daddy’s black jar. I swirled my fingers inside before plucking out a folded piece of paper. These were our fantasy jars—our little game every Friday night. I nibbled my lip before opening the paper.
“Oh, yes,” I whispered to myself before sliding the paper beneath the gap in the door so Daddy knew who he was tonight.
I rushed to the toy cupboard, snatching out the things I needed before gathering up the clothes and underwear. I paused, eyeing the black and red stilettos, then picked them up. Once dressed, I went to the bathroom mirror and darkened my makeup to look the part. The final touch was the crimson lipstick Daddy loved. I ran a comb through my hair until it shone.
I perched on the edge of the bed and waited.
Benedict
Olivia yawned again, trying to keep her eyes open. I softened my voice as I continued with the story. Another yawn, then her eyes closed.
“Love you, Daddy,” she mumbled.
I stroked her dark hair back. She had my eyes and hair, but her tiny pixie-shaped face was all her mother’s.
“I love you too, my sweet angel,” I whispered, bending over her guardrail to kiss her hairline.
Both my girls objected to my prickly beard. Olivia tucked her hand beneath her pillow and rolled onto her side. She was asleep, but I stood over her to be sure before switching her lamp off, leaving only the night light’s soft glow. Her nanny was next door, and I had no concerns because Olivia rarely woke during the night.
As soon as I left Olivia’s bedroom, I sprinted upstairs. Our room was empty—my Princess had gone ahead. My pulse kicked up as I wondered what she’d drawn from my jar.
Prisoner, stranger, student, doctor…or my all-time favourite, the hooker. I might have slipped a few duplicates into my jar. Between the role play and the acts we added, the jar had kept us endlessly inventive. And not always in the red room—we’d had our share of public fun too.
My cock already throbbed at the thought. I pulled my suit my jacket on and quickened my pace. There were plenty of props upstairs to fit any fantasy. When I reached the top floor, I saw the square of white paper by the door. I picked it up and read it.
Excellent.
I pushed the door open, looking for my wife, and saw her sitting on the bed. The door clicked shut behind me. As I walked closer, I took in the provocative lingerie she wore. A quarter cup bra propped up her tits, leaving them on full display. Black lace panties and stockings clung to her curves, but it was the long black heels with their red soles that caught my attention. Those were new.
“Do you like what you see, sir?” she asked, uncrossing her legs.
“You know I do. Your madam said you were for hire all night. Do you think you’ll be able to keep up with me?”
I almost smiled when she gave me a slow once-over, her chin tilted high. Far too haughty for a whore.
