The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖
Book online «The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖». Author Frost, J
When even sitting in the cool water can’t kill my stiffy any longer, I toss her over my shoulder and carry her sand-covered ass up the beach to our cabana. I draw the curtains, push her face-down across the loungers, and fuck her. I keep her wrists clasped in my hand at the small of her back. She muffles her moans in a towel. Stanley provides so much stimulation that she comes twice without me even touching her clit, bucking like a bronco. With her sweet pussy milking me, I slap my hand over my mouth to prevent my own roar of release from blowing down the cabana. After shuddering together through the blissful aftershocks, I collapse over her in a sweaty, sandy, happy heap.
“Worth the wait, little girl?” I ask when I have enough breath to speak.
“Yes, Daddy.” A contented sigh. “I might ask for this as a reward every time, although I really, really liked the good-girl spanking, too.”
I chuckle and run my fingers through her tangled hair, down her damp back, tugging on the fabric of her bathing-suit top, which she’s modestly left on. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good-girl spankings should be followed by a plugged, prone bone.”
That gets me a giggle. “And lots of crazy orgasms just from penetration. Ta, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, beanie.” She asked permission for her orgasms and thanked me after the first one, so I don’t hold the delay against her. I can tell she’s trying hard to be perfect today. Maybe a little too hard. “Emmy, I want you to enjoy yourself today. This is your holiday. Is it more relaxing for you to be my little girl while we’re sightseeing, or would you like to just be my girlfriend for the rest of the day?”
She scoots over, careful not to fall off the edge of the recliner, and tucks her hand under her cheek while she looks up at me. “That’s a hard question, Daddy.”
“Is it?”
I’d have thought being my girlfriend for the day would be a no-brainer.
“You said you’d make it safe for me to be little all the time. I want to be. It’s not relaxing . . . no, that’s not right. It’s not mentally relaxing because I have to remember your rules, but it’s emotionally relaxing. Does that make any sense?”
“It does.” Something clicks in my head. Being little isn’t age play for Emily. It’s the lowering of emotional shields she put up as a teen. Being little is freedom. Even if she has to stay within my boundaries, that freedom is a holiday for her. An escape and release from the pressures of daily life. “As long as you feel safe and comfortable, I’m good with that. I just don’t want to stress you.”
She places her palm against my throat, feeling my pulse and the vibration of my words. Such a sweet gesture of connection and comfort.
“What stresses you, Daddy?”
“Not being in control. Not being able to help when there’s a problem. The Mets winning the World Series.”
She giggles. “When we get back, can we go to a game? I’ve never been.”
“You’ve never been to a baseball game? Now that’s a major crime. I’d be happy to pop your baseball cherry.”
Another giggle and a big grin. She stretches like a kitten and curls on her side. “And my bottom cherry?”
“Is that what you’re lying there thinking about, looking all innocent?”
She nods. “There’s a huge, sandy boulder in my butt, Daddy. Even bigger than the ones on the beach. Kind of hard to think about anything else.”
“A huge, sandy boulder, huh?” I chuckle, patting her bottom. “That must be uncomfortable. Let’s take Stanley out. You’ve worn him plenty for today.”
She rearranges herself on the recliner, ass in the air, knees to her chest, cheek on the cushion, without me giving her a word of direction. I pull a glove, baggie, and baby wipes from my beach bag, remove and bag the plug, and wipe her up. Her sphincter’s rose-red; I bet she’s ready for a rest. I rub and pat her ass cheek once I’m done so she knows she can relax.
“How long do you think it’ll be now, Daddy?”
“Hmm?” I ask as I tuck the used wipes and glove into the baggie, seal it up and toss it in my beach bag.
“Until you can, um, you know?”
I give her cheeky ass a smack. She rolls onto her side, grinning.
“Stanley is Morris’s big brother, right? Well, Stanley has a big brother, too. Maybe a week wearing Stanley’s big brother before you’ll be ready for Daddy’s cock.” I rub her hip. “There’s no rush, sweetie. Are you nervous about it?”
She wriggles as she considers my question. Not much nervousness there. “I was. Really, really nervous. I haven’t made it a hard limit because I know Doms expect it, but I’ve never let it happen, either. I’ve used my safe word or negotiated for other stuff. I’d have tried not to safe word with you, unless it hurt more than I could stand, but doing it the way you have, it’s made it something we’re working towards together. You’ve made it feel safe, Daddy. And exciting and sexy.”
Gradual change. That’s always the key with Emily.
“I want it to be exciting and sexy, sweetie. You might still be a little nervous or scared the first few times, but that adds to the excitement, doesn’t it? And you know I won’t harm you like your ex did.”
She nods. “Have you ever harmed any of your subbies?”
Stroking her damp curls back from her face, I consider. “I’ve hurt my bottoms a great deal. I’ve been with some serious masochists and we’ve done heavy play like branding and piercing. I’ve been careful not to burn into muscle or pierce a nerve, so I don’t think I’ve ever harmed one of my bottoms, but I’ve certainly pushed
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