Originally Posted by Wild_Honey_66
*settles in with tea and waits for the story to begin*
off the top of my head - (unedited)
What Cassie loves is the way she feels safe with him. What she knows, is certain about, is he would never hurt her; he would never be a bully or even play at being a spoiled brat throwing his toys out of the playpen when he doesn’t get his own way. Which is a trick Brad used to pull – Mr. Passive Aggressive himself. But her daddy is different, so completely not Brad that Cassie is only just now realizing what an asshole her boyfriend – correction, ex-boyfriend – actually is.
Her daddy wouldn’t grab her arm, and squeeze just hard enough to send the message, a hint that yeah, if I wanted to, I could really hurt you, Cassie. But, he could if he wanted; he sure has the size to totally dominate her. His six feet four have her beat by eleven full inches, and his biceps are as thick as her thighs. He’s big where she’s tiny. His chest as deep as a barrel while her itty-bitty titties are cute (his words) rounded mounds which don’t even fill his palms. But, for all his size and physical strength – even his temper, and he has one, Alana said so – Cassie just loves the sense of security she gets when she’s with him. And, while she might be slim and petite, Cassie has no trouble taking his cock into her body. Her pussy gets so wet, and she’s eager to take as much as she can into her mouth- and that’s something else different from Brad. Sucking Brad’s cock was a chore, usually unpleasant and sometimes painful. His idea of a BJ was to hold onto Cassie’s head and fuck at her face until she gagged and spluttered and slimy ropes of saliva hung off her chin. But, again, her daddy is so different; Cassie enjoys giving him pleasure with her lips and her tongue, cranking his shaft with two hands until he grunts and bucks and that lovely, gorgeous cock throbs and spits cum.
She trusts him, trusts him enough to maybe let him take her ass-cherry. Sometime. If he wants to, that is.
Right now, Cassie’s on top, enjoying the big dick, in control of the depth and the tempo. Sometimes she fucks like a machine, really gasping and moaning and letting all the potty-mouth filth pour out, just like Alana – God, the mouth on that girl. Sometimes Cassie just has to get wild. But, right now, she’s in the mood for it nice and slow, loving and tender. She’s hyped up in anticipation of feeling every knobble and veiny protrusion of his thick, gnarled shaft touching her inside. God, the expectation of taking him in could make her scream. Cassie is desperate, crazy with lust and desire as she squats over him, her feet flat on the bed, his hard-on in her fist so she can hold him upright and tease her clit with the huge spongy dome.
“Cassie,” he says through a gasp and a groan, “don’t tease me, baby. Give me the pussy, sweetheart.”
What twists Cassie’s dials even more is seeing his face all scrunched up with the sheer wanting of her. The sound of his voice causes a physical squeeze way down low, deeper than the pit of her stomach. It’s the sound of a desperate man, a horny mature man who just has to have tight teenage pussy smearing buttery lust over his shaft.
Cassie pauses and savors the moment. The question comes out as a thick and clotted, “You want it?”
He blinks and gulps before gasping, “Fuck yeah, baby. I do. I surely do.”
“Tell me,” adds Cassie, slowly stroking the cock and, as she smears the bulb over her pussy, teasing her opening, the lump of it rubbing her clit, Cassie watches his face with all the attention and focus of a cat stalking a bird. She sees him swallow heavily again, a sign of his urgent need.
“I want your pussy, Cassie,” he says through what is almost a sob. “Please, baby, just come on down. Put me in. I can’t fucking stand it,” he adds with a growl, hands going up to her waist.
Cassie feels the strength of him, his fingers fully encompassing her around her middle. She always marvels at that, the way he can encircle her body, tips of his thumbs and the tips of his middle fingers touching. He makes her feel so tiny that way, the difference in their comparative size exaggerated because she gets the sense of him being able to completely control her if he wanted to, really wanted to do it instead of indulging her game. Cassie knows he could pull her down over his dick while fucking up into her body. She knows full well she couldn’t do a thing about it if that’s where he went. But he won’t. He wouldn’t. She’s in charge. She has the power.
But, likewise, Cassie knows he won’t be able to resist it forever. Too much teasing and he’ll snap and tumble her over onto her back before fucking her into his bed. Not that the idea isn’t without its merits, but maybe later perhaps. If the mood takes her she might beg him to nail her to the bed with his dick, to tear up her pussy, to smash her as he holds himself up on straight arms and uses his size against her creamy quim. Or maybe she’ll get onto her hands and knees and offer it to him from behind? He always feels totally massive when they fuck like the animals do.
“You know what I want to hear,” Cassie murmurs at him. She cranks his dick with a few vigorous strokes of her fist. “Come on, daddy,” she adds in a whisper, “tell me. Say it to me.”
The words, when he groans them after a pause, trigger a surge of excitement. When he holds her waist and gazes into her eyes, Cassie feels the heat flare like liquid fire down between her legs. What he says and the way in which he delivers it brings a blush to Cassie’s cheeks. Not because she’s embarrassed, but because she knows if she doesn’t put him inside her soon, if she doesn’t have his girth splitting her open while his length probes her inside, her body will drip lust and desire over his cock in a gooey and very physical manifestation of yearning.
“Daddy wants his baby-girl,” he eventually moans. “Daddy wants his sweet little girl. Put it in, sugar,” he adds with a sigh. “Then come in low and kiss daddy’s mouth. I’m hungry for my sweet, baby-girl.”
“Oh, fuck, that’s big, daddy,” she gasps as her body takes his size. Her feet are still flat on the bed while he takes her weight centered over his root. Cassie then goes back to rest on the palms of her hands and her soles, like a see-saw or bridge, chin on her chest so she can look down over her frontage and actually witness her pussy taking the cock.
As Cassie looks down to her hairless mound, the shaving of which had caused her so much anxiety – fear of an unsightly chicken-skin razor-rash uppermost when she’d done it – she experiences a burst of elation, fourth of July fireworks at how perfect it is. How wonderful everything is.
Cassie shifts her position, going onto her knees, hands on his chest, her fingers splayed as she starts to move.
“Don’t use bad language,” he scolds, a large hand smacking one buttock. It isn’t a heavy swat, just loaded with enough zap to make Cassie moan and work her hips faster.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she simpers, playing the part. “But your big fucking cock…”
He smacks her again, the act goading Cassie into leaning in for a kiss. She curls her torso in low, then gasps into his open mouth, pelvis shunting as she grinds onto his cock, her body accommodating all he has to offer.
“Daddy’s bad girl,” he grins when Cassie unfolds after the kiss.
Cassie, stinging buttocks flexing as she grinds on his dick, his girth a delight against her clit, replies in a moan. “Daddy’s good girl,” she drawls. She closes her eyes and adores the way he feels so deep in her pussy. “Daddy’s good little girl.”
Then Cassie begins to fuck, riding the cock, her clit still overjoyed at the slide of male gristle as she slips up and down on the length.