Another Round

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Disclaimer: All characters are over the age of 18 and are consenting non-related adults engaged in a safe, sane, and consensual BDSM relationship with DD/lg dynamic within the D/s framework. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.


Daddy’s friend is over tonight. It’s a gorgeous evening with a hint of a breeze but warm and sultry. The kind of night that makes eleven feel even more inviting than seven. I grilled steaks and we had beers, and now we’re just sitting on the patio, talking, soft light spilling out from the house and a full moon. I’m done after a single beer, but the men keep going. After I get them refills, Daddy pulls me onto his lap.

A little shiver unfurls in my belly. I’m not wearing panties because Daddy asked me not to and I’m wearing the sundress with buttons all down the front that he asked me to. I have a feeling what he may have planned, but I know better than to rush him. I settle back against him, eager to see how this unfolds. Daddy strokes my arms and hair. I trust him implicitly.

Gradually Daddy’s hands stray to my front, skating over and over my ribs in long, slow strokes. He undoes the first two buttons of my dress, leaves them there. The men are talking guy things, boring stuff, but there’s an edge to the conversation now, a deliberateness to it’s casualness. I’m not interested in the conversation, so I close my eyes and just drift, letting the touches wash over, me not caring as his hands go higher, cupping my breasts through the fabric. His thick fingers find my nipples, pinch lightly, making them poke out even more. There’s a bra but it’s a thin wisp of material, the barest nod towards decency.

Two more buttons and the bra is visible, front clasp winking at Daddy’s friend. I open my eyes, watching the friend’s eyes widen appreciatively as Daddy parts the material a bit. Still talking, the three of us are in a game now, pretending like I’m not the focus, like this is all so very normal. The friend is excellent at the game, Maltepe Escort leaning back in his chair, watching but not watching. He’s a big man, not quite as big as Daddy, but tall and wide with hands almost as big. There’s a sizable bulge in his worn blue jeans, and his hand tightens a bit on his beer as Daddy flicks open another button. Two big guys enjoying this show makes another shiver ripple through me. Daddy won’t let him fuck me; that much I know for certain and that knowledge is my security blanket, something I wrap around myself as Daddy’s hands dart under the material, finding my nipples, tugging harder now.

A soft moan escapes my lips and I know from the chuckle rumbling through Daddy that that’s exactly what he wanted. I’m going to lose the game, spectacularly so, and it’s going to be glorious. I’m not good at being impassive like them, not good at pretending like this isn’t the most exciting thing that’s happened to me all week. He pulls the dress open more, another button undone. A flick of the long, blunt fingers I love so much and the front clasp of the bra is undone. He pushes the flimsy material aside, letting my pendulous breasts spring free.

The night air is cool, hardening my already long and thick nipples even more. Daddy’s tugs get more serious now and my gasps more pronounced. I start to dribble, and I can tell from his widening eyes that the friend wasn’t expecting this. He shifts in his chair, that bulge in his jeans more evident now. It’s not unwelcome, the discovery of this little bent of ours, this private part of our play. I know daddy’s so proud of my progress with the pumping, and that pride makes my shoulders slide back, tits jutting out more. I do this for him and him alone, but showing it off, just a little, has wetness pooling between my legs, coating my inner thighs.

The fabric of my dress is getting damp now, but they’re still chatting. Their voices are lower now, rougher. I’ve long since lost the thread of the conversation. I give myself over to Kurtköy Escort the sensations of Daddy milking me, tugging and twisting my nipples, my gasps and moans getting more pronounced.

“Can she come that way?” the friend asks. Ah. The veil slips; he’ll lose the game too, and that thought makes me smile.

“Sometimes,” Daddy says, his tone all casual like they’re discussing the weather. He tugs hard, lifting my tits up at the same time that his big thigh presses hard against my pussy. A soft orgasm ripples through me, making me shake and whimper.

The last of the buttons is undone while I’m still shaking, the dress parted now, my body exposed to the air and their unwavering gazes, every curve on display. I’m not shy though, not about this. Daddy approves of my body, and that’s all that really matters. His friend is window dressing, an accessory to our Friday night play, nothing more. And when Daddy’s hand dips between my thighs, I stop thinking about the friend altogether.

He fingers me lewdly, the sounds almost crude in the still night. My bush is soaked with my wetness now, curls glistening in the moonlight.

“Come,” Daddy whispers in my ear, the words that never cease to set me on fire. “Come for Daddy, and I’ll let you suck me.”

This is a new level of showing off altogether. Different. And God, I want it. I want his cock in mouth so badly that I whimper, straining against his hand. His free hand tugs my tits and that’s it-I’m climaxing hard, crying out.

When my eyes finally flutter open, his friend has his dick out, stroking languidly. I don’t really register the dick-it’s not daddy’s, so its looks aren’t interesting to me. Its presence though is a signal that the talking is finally over. He and I have both lost Daddy’s game, and neither of us care one whit.

I slither to my knees, still breathing hard as I undo daddy’s fly, free his hard cock with familiar movements. I know what will ramp both men up and I dribble a little milk over Daddy’s cock, Kartal Escort making him hiss and groan.

“Fuck yes,” the friend groans too. He wants this too-I can tell from the urgency in his voice, but Daddy’s not sharing . That thrills me, that he both wants me all for himself, yet wants to show me off. The thought alone has me squirming, close to coming again.

Daddy’s cock is heavy and thick in my mouth. The sweetness of the milk is gone fast, leaving only the musky taste I live for, and I suck greedily. Daddy’s thumb strokes my jaw and I know what he really wants to show off. I scoot back a little so he can stand. I take him all the way into my throat in a smooth motion. He holds my face almost tenderly as he starts fucking my mouth in earnest now.

“Take it,” the friend mutters. I can see the blur of his hand out of the corner of my eye. He’s close; they’re both close. I’m doing this, bringing two big, dominant guys to the brink with nothing more than Daddy’s little show. My hand slips between my legs, and for once, Daddy doesn’t stop me. I’m moaning around his dick now, so close myself. Daddy’s fucking my throat hard now, and I know he’s close.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” Daddy groans and the praise washes over me, more powerful even than his touch. There’s a spurt of precum, a warning shot, and I suck greedily, ready for his cum. Drool dribbles down my jaw, and my tits are leaking too. I’m a mess and no one cares, not even me. All I care about is getting him off, getting myself off. He fucks hard, dick dragging against the back of my throat and then I’m coming hard, drinking down spurt after spurt of his cum as I moan around his dick.

I can’t swallow it all because I’m coming so hard, and it runs down my lips and face. There’s a muffled curse behind me and warmth hits my arm. I’d almost forgotten about the friend, but now I’m wearing a bit of him too. I laugh, ridiculously giddy. Daddy collapses back into the chair, pulling me back into his lap. He kisses me deeply. His broad thumb sweeps my face clean, and he feeds me the last of the cum. I suck his thumb before he kisses me again, this time more affectionately. His hand strokes my hair and the message is clear: I did good.

“Another beer?” he asks the friend as he cuddles me close.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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