Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I parted my lips obediently, and he wasted no time in pushing forward, filling my mouth with his impressive girth. The taste of him exploded across my tongue—salty, musky, undeniably male. I moaned around his shaft, the vibrations making him groan in pleasure.
As Daddy Kwame began to thrust into my mouth, setting a steady rhythm, I felt the strap connect with my upturned bottom once again. The dual sensations—the stretch of my lips around his thick cock and the burning sting of leather against my tender flesh—almost overwhelmed me.
I closed my eyes, losing myself in the ordeal. But as I did, an image formed in my mind—not of Daddy Kwame, but of Daddy Daniel. In my fantasy, it was Daniel’s cock sliding between my lips, Daniel’s hand wielding the strap against my reddened ass.
The imaginary scenario grew more vivid with each passing moment. In my mind’s eye, I saw myself succumbing to pleasure without permission, crying out around Daddy Daniel’s shaft as an intense orgasm rocked through me. I pictured the disappointment in his eyes. The fantasy spun out of control as somehow Daddy Daniel whipped me and, from far away, watched me being whipped by another daddy.
Watching me punished, punishing me, Daniel had his huge cock in his hand, unable to keep himself from masturbating at the sight of his bad girl’s painful reward. I bucked atop the punishment horse, in desperate search of release, as Daddy Kwame used my mouth more and more brutally.
“That’s it, Amy,” his voice rumbled from above me. “That’s how you take it. I think your ass is sore enough, now. I’m going to finish in that tight little pussy.”
With his huge, strong hands holding me still on the padded leather surface, Daddy Kwame stretched my aching sheath on his enormous cock. He fucked me hard and fast, and to my huge relief he commanded me to come.
I screamed out climax after climax as I imagined Daddy Daniel’s hand flashing up and down his own hardness, his eyes glued to the screen as he followed every thrust of the rigid penis in my sopping pussy. I saw the seed spurt from the tip of the faraway cock, heard Daddy Daniel’s grunt of satisfaction, even as Daddy Kwame’s hips jerked out his orgasm against my whipped bottom.
Two days after that, on the fifteenth day since Daddy Daniel had left, three daddies—Daddy Kwame, Daddy William, and Daddy Tom—led me to the shower room. The cool tiles beneath my bare feet sent a shiver up my spine, or perhaps it was anticipation of what was to come. The air was heavy with steam and the scent of antiseptic soap, creating an oppressive atmosphere that made it hard to breathe.
I turned to look over my shoulder at the daddies, my tummy churning as I took in their imposing forms. Steam swirled around their legs, lending an otherworldly quality to the scene. My eyes were drawn inexorably to their exposed bodies, drinking in every detail.
Daddy Kwame stood tallest among them, his ebony skin glistening with a light sheen of moisture from the humid air. His robe hung open, revealing his chiseled abdomen and the impressive cock that had stretched me so thoroughly just days before. Even soft, it was a formidable sight, thick and long, nestled against his muscular thigh. As I watched, it twitched and began to swell, rising to attention under my gaze.
Beside him, Daddy William cut an equally imposing figure. His salt-and-pepper hair was slightly mussed, giving him a roguish air that contrasted sharply with his usual polished appearance. The rich fabric of his robe draped elegantly over his lean frame, parting to expose his toned chest and the trail of dark hair that led down to his groin. His cock, already half-hard, jutted proudly from a nest of silvery curls. It was long and slender, with a pronounced curve that I knew from experience could hit just the right spots inside me.
Daddy Tom’s cock was shorter than the others but impressively thick, with a bulbous head that I knew would stretch me deliciously. His chest was covered in a light dusting of reddish-brown hair that trailed down to his groin. As I watched, his hand moved to lazily stroke his hardening shaft.
“Eyes forward, slut,” Daddy Kwame’s deep voice rumbled behind me. Trembling, I obeyed, turning my gaze down to the white tiles as I moved forward.
Daddy Tom’s hand on the small of my back guided me into the open space in the middle of the communal showers, a little in back of the central drain. The other two daddies followed close behind, their presence looming and intimidating.
“Time to empty that bladder, little slut,” Daddy William commanded, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I realized what they wanted me to do. My mind immediately conjured up the image of Daddy Daniel watching this degrading act on some far-off screen. Would he be disgusted? Aroused? The thought made my pussy clench with shameful need.