I Want Your Daddy
Tuesday D'Angelo is a beautiful young woman with a devious heart and an insatiable sexual appetite. On the eve of her wedding, she only wants one thing, to have sex with her longtime lover, who happens to be her fiancé's father. Will she get to have her cake and eat it too? Or will she be forced to face to consequences of her deception?
It was late Friday night on the eve of her wedding, and she was ready to get it over with. Not that she was eager to be wed, just keen on putting it in the rearview.
The ceremony was to be a small affair, only immediate family and a handful of close friends. They would have skipped town and rolled through the drive-thru in Vegas if it were up to her. But her husband-to-be, with his family values and old money, insisted on making it a thing. Whittling down the guest list to under 200 took some significant negotiations. But they were finally able to come to an agreement.
She wasn’t the least bit excited about walking down the aisle, but she was looking forward to the honeymoon. Her Abercrombie hot fiancé, with his impeccable fashion sense, is very good in bed —just like his father.
She met his father, Harry, first. They happened to be seated next to one another at an airport bar in Chicago. She was returning home from a conference, and he was going to New York. Harry was charming, drop-dead gorgeous, with kind eyes and an irresistible smile. He was dressed for travel in jeans and a white poplin button-down. His well-worn brogues told her that he valued style and comfort. Harry was the kind of man that made women of all ages salivate, and she was not the exception.
She began flirting almost immediately, and he responded in kind. Both were utterly unbothered by the three decades between them. Five years have passed since their chance meeting. And if she has it her way, this marriage will only be a minor inconvenience.
Tonight she needed to be fucked more than ever to work off the stress of her upcoming nuptials. And to quell the ever-present desire to wreak havoc, and so she decided to take matters into her own hands.
She closed the book she was reading. Stood up and let her robe fall to the floor, as she made her way to the bathroom for a filthy unhurried shower. She had an ample body, soft in all the right places, and firm where it counts. She was tall enough, beautiful, and she made sexy look easy.
She walked into the dimly lit bathroom and stepped into the glass shower. She closed her eyes as the water cascaded over her naked body, caressing her breasts as a lover would. She palmed the bar of soap and smoothed it over her arms, belly, and shoulders. She was startled a little when she felt a hand snake around her waist.
“Hello, beautiful,” said a deep velvety voice.
She spun around, and there he was, her silver fox in the flesh. His grayish hair was moist from the spray of the shower. A line of water streamed down the side of his striking face, and his eyes glistened with naughtiness.
“Hi,” she whispered as her eyes took him in.
“Do you need some help washing your back?” he asked, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow.
“I was kind of hoping you would show up tonight.”
“And I was hoping that you would be waiting for me,” he winked and pried the soap from her hand. She did not resist when he turned her around and pressed his hard body into hers. He looked like he had been airbrushed into the space, moving effortlessly toward her body.
He rubbed the soap down the nape of her neck and across her shoulders before trailing down the surface of her back and over the fleshy mounds of her ass. She closed her eyes as he rubbed up and down between her ass cheeks. Her breath caught when he snaked his hand forward and cupped her mound with his strong hand.
Her ample chest flattened against the shower wall. She could feel her heart racing with anticipation. The warm water rinsed her body clean, and the soapsuds swirled down the drain. Somehow he managed to remove the showerhead from its holster and aim it at her pubic mound. The warmth of the water, coupled with the heat of his hand between her legs, was enough to make her knees weak.
He began to rub his middle finger over the hood of her clitoris and into her dripping sex in a come hither motion. Initially, she grimaced with surprise. But soon, she found herself moaning with pleasure as his finger milked her pussy. It felt so fucking good, like nothing she had ever felt before, but then he stopped abruptly.
She turned around and slid her slippery, aroused body up against his. And moved her mouth close to his before parting his lips with her tongue. He was reluctant at first, but the heat of her body made his cock twitch. His lust for her was too strong to resist. And his strength of will evaporated like the steam on his skin, accompanied by his morals.
Urgency pulsed through his veins as he wrapped his fist around a snatch of her hair. Yanking her head back and exposing her throat. Her eyes danced with delight at this show of force.
“You are marrying my son tomorrow. Do you know how wrong this is?” he said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, and that’s what makes this so exhilarating. Men always want what they should not have.” She sneered as she jerked her head free from his grasp and shoved his muscular body against the wall. It took a few seconds for him to realize what she was doing. She raked her fingernails over his rippled abdomen and down his happy trail. His hands made their way to the back of her head. As the warmth of her mouth engulfed the head of his rock-hard cock.
Her mouth stretched as she took in his massive girth and impressive length. She began to drag her lips from base to head, taking him from the depths of her throat to the tip of his mushroom. Her lips felt so good wrapped around his penis, causing mixed emotions to spiral through him. His desire to do the right thing was overpowered by his insatiable appetite for her. He needed to be inside of her.
He gripped her hair, once again, forcing her mouth off of his eager cock. And pulled her into a standing position. His eyes smoldered with a mix of anger, frustration, grief, and longing. She stared back at him, her eyes salacious and free of guilt.
He found her lack of remorse troubling and arousing. He hated himself for lusting her. And he hated her for being manipulative and emotionally bankrupt.
“Tell me that I can’t have you. Tell me that this is wrong and that you want to do right by my son?” he demanded as he forced his hand between her legs and into her throbbing pussy.
“You can’t have me. This is wrong, and your son deserves to have me all to himself. You should stop now before we both do something that we’ll regret,” she said with a soft, low, and seductive drawl.
The more she reminded him of what was at stake and how inexcusable his need to pound her was, the more crazed with desire he became. He growled in vexation. Grasped her by the arm. Yanked her out of the shower and nearly dragged her naked body down the hall before slamming her down on her bedroom floor. He pinned her down with his hands. As his right knee coerced her thighs open, and his cock aligned at the entrance of her salivating pussy. For a brief moment, he considered cutting his losses and walking away, but the strain of his erection changed his mind.
He placed one hand around the circumference of her thigh and the other around the shaft of his manhood. Before forcing his cock into the depths of her honeypot. She was smoldering and tight, and she opened up and received every inch of his throbbing member. He closed his eyes as his body quivered with satisfaction. And marveled as her body writhed in response to being stuffed full of his big cock.
“Punish me, please,” she begged as he began to furiously plow into her. “I’ve been a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad girl.”
Listening to her hungry words and her erotic moans caused him to pump into her hard and with brutal force. But she didn’t just take it. She fucked him back like her life depended on it. He watched her face contort into a grimace every time he plunged his giant cock into her sex. Seeing her in the throes of pain and pleasure made him grow even harder. The feeling of his cock gliding in and out of this devious bitch was enough to make him lose his mind. He felt her tighten around his cock as he dug into her over and over again.
“Goddam, this is so wrong, but it feels too fucking good not to be right.” Those words caused a new wave of anger to surge through him. She looked so beautiful and helpless as she thrust her breasts toward him and threw her head back in surrender. Her nipples began to pink, and that’s when he knew that she was on the verge of creaming all over him. He bulldozed his cock deeper and more forceful than before, pushing her to the edge of delirium. She arched her back as her body stiffened, and her face twisted as the wave of orgasm began to wash over her.
“Yes, Daddy, give it to me like you hate me,” she moaned. The words cut into him like a knife, causing him to punch his cock into her pussy, as hard as he could. She shivered and quaked, again and again, forcing his orgasm to explode into the deep, delicious cavern of her forbidden pussy.
He grunted as he pulled her hips down hard onto his eruption before collapsing on top of her. His sweat mixed with hers and pooled into the grotto between her breasts. The stickiness of their skin felt tacky as they gasped for air in unison. He tried to pull out of her, but she wrapped her legs around his waist before he could escape.
“Stay here with me, just for a little while,” she whispered as her breath blew over the fine tufts of hair on his ear.
“Fuck you,” he said as he rolled off of her exhausted, limp body.
“You just did, and very well, I might add,” she sneered. As she sat up and leaned over to stare into the wells of his translucent gray eyes. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of telling your son that you’ve been fucking his bride-to-be.”
“He doesn’t have to tell me because I already know,” said a voice from behind her. Shock immediately flooded her body as the color drained from her face. She slowly turned her head toward the voice to find her fiancé rising from a chair in the corner of the room. He walked over, offered his father a hand, and tugged him to his feet.
“Thanks for doing this Dad, I know that it was hard for you, pun intended,” he said. As he and his father walked out of the room, without so much as a glance in her direction.
She closed her eyes, collapsed into a heap on the floor, and panted for her breath in a pool of her own sweat and mischief. And wondered which one of them would tell the guests that the wedding was off.
About the author
Intimacy & REALationship coach, writer, and creator of The Sensuality Project. I specialize in Relationship-ing (it's a verb).
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme