Page 12 of Pleasing Daddy's Friends
“Daddy,” I mewl. “What are you doing there? That chair looks so uncomfortable! Come join in me in bed.”
The dark man merely shakes his head, looking godawful handsome in faded blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt.
“I’d love to sweetheart, but I’m afraid if I get in bed, we’ll never get out.”
I giggle prettily, being sure to let the sheet slip so that my big ivory teats are revealed.
“Would that be so bad?” I ask in a coy tone before reaching up to circle a pink nipple with my finger. “It sounds fun, if you ask me.”
Lionel’s blue gaze flares, mesmerized as he watches my seductive gesture. But he stays put in his chair across the room, almost like he’s forcing himself to maintain the distance.
“No, baby girl,” he rasps. “You’re sore and achy from the party last night, and you need time to recuperate. Too much, too soon, isn’t a good idea. Even for a naughty girl like you.”
“Oh Daddy,” I coo. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m eighteen, remember? Young girls bounce back fast because that’s how we are.” Then, to prove my point, I throw the covers off my nude body with a flourish and make to swing my legs over the mattress and to the floor. I plan on bouncing out of bed before doing some light aerobics to show the man of the house just how flexible and fit I am. But it seems my stepfather knows me better than I know myself because as soon as I make to hop off the mattress, a painful ache in my cunt causes me to wince, and I pause with both feet hovering just over the carpet.
“Ouch!” is my exclamation. “Oh my!”
The dark billionaire chuckles low in his chest, his eyes glued to my every curve.
“Like I said, princess, you’re going to be sore and achy for a while. You pleasured my three friends last night, and did a great job, like I knew you would. Cross, Barrett and Scott walked away very happy men.”
I look up into his eyes.
“So they’re pleased?”
“Very pleased,” Lionel confirms in a rasp, his blue eyes gleaming. “In fact, they want to do it again. And they plan on calling your bluff, sweetheart. I hope your friend Rose is ready to entertain because you got them with your saucy hook.”
I giggle but panic courses through my veins because of course, I didn’t run the idea of a menage by Rose at all. Oops, this might be a bit awkward. But I push the thought out of my mind because Rose has always been a good sport, in addition to being very sexy and sensual. Recently, she’s kind of hinted at a crush on a mystery man, but I’m sure it’s nothing. Knowing Rose, she’s been mooning over the hot heroes in her romance novels, and her mystery man is just as likely to be fictional as not. I’ll be able to convince her to pleasure Scott, Lionel and Barrett after I tell her how amazing they are.
But then another shaft of pain lances through my pussy, and Lionel laughs deeply when he sees me wince.
“Come on, baby girl,” he growls before getting up and striding to the bed. He sweeps me into his strong arms, bridal style. “Upsy daisy.”
I gasp, our faces suddenly only inches apart. Lionel is so gorgeous, with his proud, strong features; piercing cobalt gaze; and jaw made of iron.
“Daddy, what are you doing?” I whisper, twining my arms around his bronzed neck.
“Nuh uh, we’re not doing more of that,” he growls while striding to the attached en suite. “I love your filthy mind, baby, but as we’ve established, you’re hurting right now. You need another soak in the bath to soothe your tender folds,” he grunts before kicking open the door to the en suite and depositing me gently onto the ivory counter. Then, he begins filling the massive marble tub until the space is warm and steamy, before adding Epsom salts to the water. “You’ll feel better after letting the minerals do their work, princess. Take your time. I’ll be downstairs.”
With that, Lionel strides out without a backwards glance, his broad form disappearing once again into the master bedroom. Goodness, that was certainly decisive! Then again, the alpha male has always taken care of me, and I adore being pampered by him. Sure, Lionel can be a bit possessive, but actually, I love that about my Daddy. It makes me feel so wanted and tingly inside.
Plus, the man of the house has already demonstrated his care and concern for my well-being. When I requested the party with his friends, he put his doubts to the side in order to respond to my needs. He talked me through the process; listened to my concerns; and now, he’s physically pampering me by drawing hot baths and making sure that my curves are coddled and comfortable. Lionel adores my voluptuous form, and I adore my Daddy in return. With a satisfied sigh, I sink low into the bubbles, allowing myself to daydream a bit.
But soon, the water turns lukewarm, and I know it’s time to get out. With a big toe, I flip open the stopper and watch as the liquid drains slowly, revealing the luscious mounds of my breasts, tummy, and then legs. Lionel was right – I do feel better after a warm soak, and clenching my thighs a bit, I smile. My pussy and ass continue to be sore, but at least I can move now without flinching.
With that, I rise from the tub like Aphrodite rising from the sea, my curves sleek and shiny, before swathing myself in a big, fluffy white towel. Then, I exit the en suite before padding silently to the walk-in closet. My clothing hangs neatly, divided first by season, and then by style, and then by color. Khloe Kardashian would be envious of the rigorous organizational discipline on display, but then again, any woman in my place would do the same. Lionel lavishes me with expensive outfits, and I need to take care of them! Of course, I always protest and say I have nowhere to wear the silk evening gowns dripping with beads, as well as the couture outfits made to measure for my figure. But my stepfather never listens because it's not the clothing he’s thinking about – it’s the lingerie beneath, lovingly cupping my generous curves.
But what should I wear today? Hmm, no evening gowns are necessary because it’s just a regular day, as far as I’m aware. Lionel and I will likely just hang out and enjoy our time together while discussing what happened last night.
With a happy smile, I pick out a blue skirt that comes down to mid-thigh, along with a cute blue and white striped top. A chipper red handkerchief around my neck completes the outfit, and I style my brown curls so that they hang in long locks over one shoulder. The entire effect is very Parisian, and I add a dab of red lipstick as the final touch. Parfaite! With a skip to my step, I take the stairs to the kitchen.
“Hi Daddy,” I greet while prancing into the expansive space. “Mmm, that smells delicious. What is it? Pancakes?” I ask while seating myself at the counter. Our mansion boasts a chef’s kitchen complete with shiny, stainless steel appliances, a giant island, and custom made cabinetry.
“No sweetheart,” Lionel replies while grinning over one broad shoulder. “Princess, it’s too late for breakfast,” he chides gently with one black brow raised. “Didn’t you notice? The sun’s already out. It’s almost noon. But I’m making eggs with avocado, the way you like it.”
He looks attractive in a short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, the white fabric highlighting his tan skin and broad chest. A red and white checkered apron with “Kiss the Chef” emblazoned on the front is tied around his waist, and I giggle because that’s my apron. It’s about five sizes too small for Lionel, and I can see how the fabric barely shields even half of his broad chest.
“Daddy, eggs are a breakfast meal!” I admonish with a pout. “You know how much I love my eggs western style, with avocado, tomatoes, salsa, shredded cheese, and sour cream. Don’t forget the sour cream because that’s my favorite,” I remind.
