Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
I pressed my fingertip to my tongue, tasting the saltiness of not only his tear, but his cum which still lingered on my skin. His flavor tingled on my taste buds and made my blood race.
Keegan pulled his lips back towards my tip and wrapped his fingers around my shaft. He pumped his fist and mouth as one, covering my flesh completely. He sucked hard and moved his hand so quickly, his blue fingernails blurred.
Pressure ballooned in my pelvis and my balls rolled and lifted. I warned, “Gonna come,” and Keegan moaned around my cock. My hips arched off the bed, burying my dick down his throat as my orgasm ripped through me. I pumped his mouth full of warm cum, which he drank greedily. He licked my sensitive flesh until it was almost too good to handle, and I guided his mouth off of my flesh.
I tipped his head back until he looked up at me with a glassy, satisfied expression. “That was incredible,” I whispered, and he nodded his agreement.
“Yes, it was.” It seemed my pleasure was his ecstasy as well. “You are so tasty, Daddy.”
I huffed a laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Needing to feel him against me, I reached to pull him into a hug, but Keegan stopped me with a hand to my chest. “Careful, I’m still sticky.”
“I’m going to get you cleaned up, and then I am going to make you lunch.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” I gave him another kiss before standing up, and pulling him to his feet. “Do I need to pick up my blocks before you clean me?”
“Nah, we’ll get them later,” I shrugged, making my boy giggle. The blocks were technically the reason all of this started. Though all I really cared about was meeting his need for punishment, which seemed to be more of a reward. And now, I planned on meeting his need for food.
I pinched his bottom as he walked out of the room in front of me, making him hiss through his teeth. Oops. One need was even more pressing than food, and I made a mental list of everything my boy required. Clean up, soothing lotion, lunch. Got it.
Chapter Three
Keegan
“There you go; how does that feel?” Daddy asked as he pulled the hemline of one of his t-shirts down over my body. My underwear and skirt were wet and sticky from our fun, and he said he didn’t want it to irritate my skin, so he put them in the washing machine.
Once he stripped me, he cleaned my stomach with a wet, soapy cloth, and then smoothed some cool lotion onto my bottom. He was gentle and thorough, and the sting was completely gone, which was sort of a shame because I wanted to remember him every time I sat down. And I wouldn’t have minded feeling his hand on my cheeks all day.
Once I was clean and lotioned, I thought about asking to be free and nakey the rest of the day, but then he offered me one of his t-shirts to wear, and that sounded like an even better idea. I wanted to be covered in something that belonged to him.
He also offered me a pair of his underwear, but they were much too big. I stepped into them and he pulled the waistband onto my hips, but they immediately fell onto the floor. So we settled on just the shirt. It was fine by me; I liked the breeze, and the thin cotton against my skin.
“It feels good.” It was loose and flowy, and hung down to my knees. “It’s kind of like a pretty dress,” I answered, giving a little twirl as he chuckled.
“You are what makes it pretty. I’m convinced you could make a trash bag look beautiful.” I giggled at the silly idea. “Come on, I need to feed my boy some lunch.”
I followed him into the kitchen, where he pulled out a wooden chair, but before I could sit down, Daddy said he would be right back and hurried out of the room. He returned carrying a throw pillow from the sofa, which he placed onto the hard seat, before patting it in invitation. He thought of everything; even the tiny comfortable touches that made his care evident, warming my insides.
I settled my bare butt in at the table and watched him get to work. He moved gracefully across the room, grabbing a pan from the cabinet and ingredients from the fridge. It was obviously something he did often; he knew right where everything was, and looked like he had a recipe in mind.
“Do you like to cook?” I asked curiously as he fired up the burner on the stovetop. He appeared to be good at it, but I wanted to know if he enjoyed it.