Her head is resting in my lap, heavy and snuggled in towards my body. I can feel her every breath, deep and satisfying, and unconsciously tries to sync mine to hers. Each rise of her body presses her against my hand, resting on her long toned legs. My fingers trace the outline of her face, from behind her ears, along the neck and over her lips. She looks up and smiles at me — that mesmerizing smile. 

Sitting here, naked, spent after sex. I think to myself; this is not how things work; this cannot be real. At forty plus, I have given up on fantasies and accepted that some things would be just that, fantasies, nothing more. You go about your day, do what you have always done — day after day.

But then this happened. Totally out of nowhere, I had not been looking for it, never had. What a cliché. Midlife crisis to the letter. It could be a scene out of any soap opera on tv. 

I'm forty, and an older man in her eyes. I've been married for almost fifteen years. It's not an unhappy marriage, but we have grown apart since the kids got older. I'm semi-successful at work, own my own company. But it's all a daily grind. But accepting it, 'this is what life is,' kind of attitude. She is eighteen and in the prime of her life. But she found me.

I did not kid myself; she was not looking for me. She was looking for anyone willing to trade naughty videos for cash. It all started with a small, 'Hi there,' from her, on a kink forum, we both had visited. My first reaction was that this was just a bluff, maybe a scam. Or spam offering mail-orders girlfriends from Russia or stealing credit card information or something. 

If I believed in destiny or had faith, I might have been able to explain why I responded to that innocent message that day. I should know better. I have thought about this a hundred times, what triggered me that day to write back. There is no answer to it, so maybe destiny is a thing. Or it might have been those eyes in her profile picture.

But we ended up here. It had all happened so fast. Some messages, then we moved on to Snapchat. Pictures traded. Gifts, sure. She wants a Daddy after all, but she wants more than the presents. She wants someone to care about her. And then before either one of us could explain it, there was a relationship: Trust, and the need for each other. 

Light drops of rain are falling on the glass roof of the car, the sound soothing. Outside, the leaves are red and yellow; fall is here.  We have parked on a small sidetrack used for forest machines and hunters. The small gravel road we drove in on is muddy, and the strip of grass in the middle of the road is starting to fall over. 

She is not sleeping, just resting against me. I like this a lot — these moments when time stops and nothing else exists. Only the two of us, phones turned off, it's our small bubble of serenity, our secret.

I know this will last, not this moment, and not in the long run either. But that is okay, I take what I get, and this, being here with my beautiful Baby girl, I know I will cherish these moments for the rest of my life. 

I stroke her hair and leans in towards her, kiss her soft silky cheek, her lips. I hug her, my hands firm on her body. Her eyes open, her lips part, and we kiss softly, the taste of sex still lingering. Her eyes sparkle like diamonds, in the light from the glass roof, she smiles, grabs my hand in hers and whispers.

 "What are you thinking about, Daddy?"

"I want to take you away, Baby; I want you to come with me somewhere, a hotel someplace far enough from here. Will you come with me?"

"Mmm, yes, please," she murmurs.

---- A few days in Kyiv ----

It’s early morning, cold and dark like all winter mornings in Scandinavia when I finally pick her up for our first real-time together. We have met a lot of times, but only for a couple of hours each time. We have hidden out in the woods, in the backseat of my car, gone for short walks, had breakfast or a simple lunch, but never in public. But this is something else; we will have almost two days together. And what I look forward to the most, a whole night, and waking up with her next to me. 

She stands at the usual place, where I have picked her up every time. Not far from where she lives, but far enough, so hopefully no one who knows her can see. Her pink jacket stands out in the darkness — high boots over tight jeans.

She wears the type of clothes that only looks good when you are young and have the body to back it up. She is simply amazing. Her body is toned and firm, legs that will blow your mind, and a figure that you only see when looking in magazines or tv. Of course, she doesn’t think so, but trust me on this, never in my wildest dreams did I think my hands would ever touch and caress this type of girl.

Long unruly hair is clinging to her face as the morning wind is up. I see her before she sees me; my whole world shifts when I'm thrown into another dimension. It happens every time. 

And every time, when I park my car next to her, my subconscious says, 'are you stupid, why would she ever open the door and get in here with you.' But somehow, she does.

She looks around so that no one she knows is watching her, and then she swiftly opens the door and sits down in the passenger seat. A rush of cold air enters the car, but I hardly notice. The scent of her perfume hits me like a drug. She turns to me, almost shyly, but with a playful smile on her lips. 

"Hello, Daddy," she says when my hand reaches for hers.

I want to kiss her there. I want to grab her in my arms, but that is too risky. So instead, I squeeze her hand and put the car in to drive, and we pull off the curb, heading for the airport.

I travel quite a lot in my work, at least in periods. Lots and lots of driving to meetings, but also trips to Ukraine, Spain and so on. Officially this one of those trips. I need to visit a subcontractor in Kyiv, Ukraine. But the meetings got canceled, but I didn’t tell anyone that. Instead, I booked one more ticket for her, my sweet Baby girl.

Flying out from her hometown is somewhat of a risk, I guess. But it’s early, and we agreed not to be obvious about traveling together until we change flights in Germany. So, for the first leg out, we act as we don’t know each other. We have seats next to each other. She is deep into a book, headphones in when I sit down in the place next to her. 

It takes all my willpower not to reach out and touch her. But I look, no,  I stare at her. I mean, how can I not? I'm seated to this sexy teen on a morning flight. Dressed in a tight top, her nipples poking the fabric. It’s one of the things that happens when you are past forty; you don’t care anymore about staring. 

After the horrible coffee has been served, watered down and bitter as an old cashier at a grocery store, I realize that with the tables folded down, in such a small aircraft, everything that happens under the tables, are as invisible as the darkness outside the plane. My hand reaches for hers, and I can see the corners of her lips, turning into a smile as she keeps reading. She is focused, actually reading. My mind, on the other hand, cannot find the peace to pick up my book. It races with ideas of what we can do when we arrive, or what I want to do with her tonight. 

I let go of her hand and trace the inseam of her jeans over her thighs. I love modern jeans, soft, stretchy material, not those rock-hard, feel nothing jeans from last millennia. My fingers reach up to her crotch, and she pushes my hand away. I smile to myself and think, 'okay, Baby, for now, you can do that, but when we arrive, you will do as I please.'

I sit back and close my eyes and think about her. She is not your average teenage girl. She is unique in every way. Cuddly and sweet as a princess sometimes. Other times kinky as you wouldn’t believe. 'Afraid of nothing, try everything once' mentality. I often wonder if she has real Daddy issues, but I think not.

It's only her kink, her Daddy, someone who will care for her. She has a will to explore, a will to feel new things. And like me, escape the world. This is our secret, the taboo of age-play, kinky sex, or BDSM.

For me, it has just been fantasies for the last twenty years. So, all this, it’s like I am reborn, risen again like a phoenix from the ashes. I have not felt this alive for ages. Not sure I have felt anything this vivid as I do with her. Just looking at her makes me feel like a high school kid falling in love for the first time or looking in a porno magazine hidden away under the covers at night. Exiting, scary even.

We land in the same weather we left. Grey clouds cover the sky in Hamburg. We are just changing flights, only an hour of waiting. But this hour is the first hour in public we have ever spent together. But even here, I find myself looking over my shoulder when we move across the terminal. Not holding hands, we are just walking next to each other. It’s too early for a drink. 

I want one, not that I am a heavy drinker, just something to calm down my nerves. But we settle for just a coffee and a tea for her at a Starbucks. We could be anybody; she could be my intern coming with on a business trip. Or a relative, anything that is normal. But in my head, everyone knows.

The second leg of the trip is an old run-down aircraft from Aeroflot, Russia’s finest, to Kyiv. Capital of Ukraine. It’s a horrible flight. But I find myself finally relaxing. Surrounded by people I will never see again. With virtually no risk of anyone we know seeing us, I can drop my guard.

Next to us on our row is an old lady, asleep before we even take off. I turn myself towards my Baby Girl, again reading her book, something she has to read for school. I close it in her hands, take it from her and put it in the seat pocket in front of us. I take her head in my hands, lean in, and kiss her, not a quick kiss, but one I have been waiting for since the first time we met.

With our faces close, I whisper to her,  "From here on, until we land back home again, you are totally and completely mine. I will do with you as I please, Baby. You will give yourself to me in any way I want. If I tell you to do something, you will obey. If this is what you want, nod now, and kiss me."

For a few seconds, she looks into my eyes. It feels like an eternity for me, with my heart hammering so hard in my chest that I'm sure it will wake the old lady. 

I cannot read her, can’t grasp what thoughts are in her mind. She knows this, and I think she is enjoying this moment, the moment where she chooses to strip off her metal hard, tough as nails shell – and give herself over to me. 

Finally, I see the shift in her eyes, a sparkle of mischief, and the smile that could wake me from the dead. She leans towards me, nods her head and kisses me, her tongue touching mine when her lips part. It’s like a superpower rushes through me, I feel things I never have before. I feel free, and on top of the world.

I don’t like Kyiv. It’s a city with insane luxury for the rich, for next to nothing prices. But the majority of the town is poor and run down. Better than other parts of Ukraine for sure, but still. The cab is nice though; a big black Mercedes sent by the hotel to pick us up. When I booked the trip, I had booked the same Radisson hotel I usually use when I am here for work. But I changed that reservation when the meetings got canceled and had instead booked us a small suite at Fairmont Grand hotel, 'why not some luxury for us?' I thought.

The suite is not as small as I had imagined when I made the reservation. A sofa and daybed in the living room, nicely decorated, not a hint of old Russia. The bedroom is just what I had hoped it would be — a massive bed with bedposts reaching up to the ceiling. On the table by the sofa, an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

A porter arrives with our suitcases, and I give him a tip. Thinking it might be a good idea to be on good terms with him if we might disturb anyone later, or wish to order up something special. You never know, but I had some ideas. 

When the door closes behind him, I walk over to her. She's standing by the enormous windows overlooking the city, with the minarets of old churches sticking up next to modern skyscrapers. I pull her close, my arms wrapping her in my embrace, and we stand there for a while, none of us say anything, just looking out and enjoying the silence and anticipation of the rest of the day.

"Baby," I say, turning her around, so she faces me. "Now we will have some of that champagne they have set out for us, and I will let you in on my plans for the day. While I open this bottle, I want you to get out of all those clothes, and then lie down on the bed over there. I want to enjoy the best view there is while enjoying this champagne."

A smile dances across her face as she immediately walks towards the bedroom, pulling her tight top over her head and all that beautiful hair.

She is stunning. My eyes take all of her in, where she lay naked on the bed as I come back to the bedroom, two glasses for us in my hand. Her skin so pure and youthful, soft over that tight muscled figure. Her breast is firm and pointy; only teenagers can have such amazing breasts. I soak it all in, trying to memorize it all, store it away so I can remember this moment forever.

I sit down next to her and hand her a glass. I want to reach out and caress her, but I pace myself. Not yet. Take it slow. Build it up, for a later crescendo.

"Did you pack what I asked you, Baby?" I ask her while sipping my drink. It’s refreshing and sweet, and quite lovely.

"Yes, Daddy," she replies, looking me in the eyes.

"I am going to see what you have packed, Baby. You are going to stay here while I do that," I say to her in a harsh voice that surprises myself.

Her bag does not contain much, some clothes, a pair of shoes and some makeup and brushes. I am looking for a dress. I asked her to bring the cutest dress she owns.

I find a red one, short and tight. It’s sweet, and she probably looks gorgeous in it, and it would be perfect for tonight. I can image her ass in it, and her breasts.

But that is not what I am going to say. This is part of the game, part of our day. 

"This?" I say and go back into the bedroom to her, looking stern. "This will not do! We will have to go shopping for you, Baby, and that is less time in bed today. And that makes me irritated, and when I get irritated, I need to punish you for that, Baby. Do you understand?" I smile to her, gulping my glass.

"Yes, Daddy," she replies, "Yes, I understand. What do you want me to do?"

"Right now nothing, Baby. In a while, but for now, we will be here, in bed, and you will tell me a fantasy you have had while masturbating."

We spend an hour like that on the bed. She tells me about fantasies she's had. Real or not, I will never know, but it’s fun, and they arouse me. Every once in a while, my hands cannot resist, and I caress her or kiss her. She is too beautiful not to; no man could resist that, however hard he tried.

When we arrived earlier, I pre-ordered a taxi to go to a big shopping mall on the outskirts of the city. I have been there before; it’s exclusive as hell. I have never bought anything there, except for some expensive Vodka that I will never drink, but you have to buy it anyway.

"Baby, we are going shopping for you now. You will use this dress while we do that," I say and hold up the tight red dress she had with her. "You will have nothing more than this and your boots, no underwear." I toss it at her.

I push the button for the elevator, and here, in a faraway city, we hold each other's hands, walking around. The elevator is empty. When It starts to move, I reach out and push the stop button. I turn to her and say.

"Baby, hold that railing there, and bend over and push your ass out as far as you can. Remember when I said I had to punish you for forcing us out of bed?."

It takes a few moments; she looks me in the eyes. She is deciding if to go ahead with this. Then turns from me, and does as she's told.

Her ass is so fine. Firm and soft at the same time. Perfectly rounded, begging to be spanked. I enjoy just looking at her for a while, lifting her dress over her butt cheeks. My fingers are tenderly touching her thighs, and then I smack her ass with my open palm. Her breath is deep as she sucks in air, and I can see in the elevator mirror how she bites her lip. I spank her again, the other cheek. I count it out loud for her, one, two, until I reach twenty. 

Her ass is red, and I can see marks from my fingers. She is panting, taking deep breaths, but says nothing. Our eyes meet in the mirror. My hands tenderly massage her now red ass. I lower myself, kissing her butt cheeks, my hand and finger slide up her leg, all the way up to her crotch. She is wet, I can feel it on my fingertips, I want nothing more than to fuck her right here and right now.

My cock is hard and throbbing in my pants. But not yet. Instead, I press my face between her legs and let my tongue touch her outer lips, spread them apart, and taste her. I love the taste of my Baby Girl, but for now, we have shopping to do.

I pull down her dress and takes her in my arms and say.

"Baby, we have shopping to do – we need to get you a proper dress for tonight’s dinner." I kiss her, and time and place disappear again.

The shopping mall is more like one massive fancy as heck store. But with areas dedicated to just one brand or type of sales. Like the wine area. Not even in Paris have I seen so many exclusive wines in one place. They have it all, as long as you have the money to pay for it.

We walk around hand in hand, like any couple. In the eyes of anyone back home, this a big no-no.

I have never really had fantasies about teens; age has never really been part of my dreams. My fantasies are kinky; I admit to that. But age has never been any critical part of the scenarios that have played out in my head.

But I must admit, it is arousing that she is so young. The taboo of it all, I love it. The first time I saw her, when she was still just a profile picture in my mind – I was so taken back, I could hardly speak. She is a bombshell; I bet any man will turn around when they pass her on the street. I know this now since that man we just passed did that. I don’t blame him, and in this tight red dress of hers – I think I might have to hire someone to watch over us tonight.

The part of the store with women’s clothing is enormous. All the luxury brands are there, even an inhouse tailor if you need refitting done instantly. I know what I am looking for, what type of dress I see when I close my eyes. We walk around, looking and picking out and hanging back things for a while before I find one I want her to try.

It’s a black dress, longer than you might think the occasion calls for, but it is open almost wholly on her back, a deep cleavage in the front, tiny straps on her shoulders.

She comes out of the dressing room, barefoot in only the dress. She looks stunning. My heart skips a beat, and I have to work hard to contain my role. Being a Daddy sounds easy, right? But not if you are a hopeless romantic that loves to cuddle but has kink fantasies and wants to explore them with a sexy teenage goddess because that is how she looks – a goddess. Like something that walked out of a fashion magazine. The lack of cosmetics just shows off her natural beauty. She is so real, like no one else.

"Do you like it, Daddy?" she asks and turns a full circle.

"I do, Baby, very much. And we need to find you a pair of shoes for that as well," I say, and try to sound somewhat blasé.

After finding a pair of shoes to make the dress justice, we spend some time just walking around looking at all the things corrupt wealthy oil oligarchs buy. Thousand-dollar caviar, fifty thousand-dollar watches. We even try some of them on; I mean, how often do you get the chance to do that.

It feels good. Not hiding, being together like this. Laughing and chatting about this and that. Neither of us has had anything to eat since a dry sandwich on the plane. We find a café inside the store and order tea and what sounds like the cafés special dish. It turns out it’s a Russian caviar blini with a shot of vodka on the side.

The vodka, together with the glasses of champagne from earlier makes me giggly. Not that manly, I have to admit. In my pocket, I have brought something with me, and I pick it out. It’s a small black silk bag with something heavy inside. I slide it over to her on the table and say.

"Baby, I want you to take this, go to the bathroom, and come back wearing this. You know what to do."

She knows what it is. And like it or not, she takes it and walks off to do as I say. A few minutes later, she is back at the table. She is sitting down rather slowly on the hard couch. 

"Let’s get out of here, Baby," I say and stand up. 

She joins me, and I make a show of dropping my wallet on the floor. 

"Pick that up for me, Baby." I smile at her and make a show of putting my arms on her shoulders and making sure she turns away from me.

"Bend at the waist," I whisper to her, and while she complies, I lift the hem of her dress, looking at her naked ass, red from the elevator spanking, and sparkling bright between her ass cheeks, a but plug.

She rises and hands me the wallet, I smile, kiss her and whisper in her ear. 

"Look at all those cameras, Baby. You are brightening the day for more than just me."

Back at the hotel, we lie down on the bed for a while. I hold her close to me, her body wrapped in my arms. 'This is bliss,' I think to myself. This right here, this is when life smiles at you.

We have a reservation at a restaurant at eight o clock, so we still have some time before heading out again. But sleep will have to wait. I kiss her softly on the neck, bury my face in the nape of her neck, kissing her earlobe, whispering in her ear,  "Come shower with me, Baby. I want you now, no play, no kink, I want you," She turns to me, her eyes soft, and her hand presses against my chest.

"Okay, Daddy," She whispers back. 

The shower is warm, a large shower head in the ceiling, glass walls all around us. My hands explore every part of her body, soaping her with lather and letting the water rinse it all off. I hold her close as the cascades of water flows over us. 

I feel myself getting hard, my cock stirring and pushing against her. With one hand, I caress her breasts, pinching her nipples, and the other is slowly finding its way in between her legs, she spreads them for me as we kiss. 

I need her now. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me, the tip of my cock poking against her, and I slide inside her. She is so tight, but her pussy opens up for me, as I push deeper inside her. I can’t see her eyes, with all the water running over us. But I feel her fingernails digging into my back as I rock my body against hers, my cock throbbing and sliding in and out of her.

She moans and leans away from me; I push her against the wall so that I can get deeper into her. There is no way I can hold back; I fuck her harder and faster, I can feel the orgasm starting to build up, racing through me like thunder and then I explode, feeling my cock throbbing with each pulse of ejaculation shooting up inside her. I think I growl like a primal ape, but I’m not sure. She slumps against me, her head on my shoulder. And we stay like this, in the shower for a long time, neither of us speaks, we are just there, together.

Posh restaurants can either be fantastic or super dull. This one is the former. It’s more of a hip club, but not for the party crowd. It’s for the working upper class really, the self-made IT millionaires, the Kyiv born who are lucky enough to have made it to the high levels.

The art on the walls is like nothing you have seen before, provocative and anti-a lot of things. There is a statue of real size pig with a Russian military hat inside the toilette. It is all taboo like us. But in here, no one bats an eye when we walk in, about that anyway. But they stare, heads turning. Not at us or me, but the marvelous creature next to me. In her high heels, black dress and a face that light up the whole club.

Our table is hidden away behind velvet curtains that block the noise and people at the bar. The restaurant is quite dark, and the colors on the walls, floor, and furniture are deep purples, black, and grey. Lots of candles and ambient lighting gives you the feeling of being underground, like in a cozy cave.

The waiter arrives as soon as we sit down. He brings a small carafe of the house vodka and a plate of salty pickles, horrible stuff. We order a shared meal of seafood from the Black Sea, wine for me, and a sweet cocktail for her. But neither of us can enjoy it fully. It is probably fantastic in every way, but we are restless, anticipating the night. So when the waiter comes back and asks if we want some dessert, I instead ask for the check, and we head out into the night, and back to the hotel.

In the elevator up to our room, we say nothing. We don’t even touch or hold hands. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. It’s playtime, and for the first time since we first met, we have room, time, and no risk of being caught. This could be anything. Maybe I will ruin it all, or perhaps it will be fantastic.

I let her have a few minutes in the bathroom before we start. I light candles around the room but leave the curtains open. The night sky is clear now, not a single cloud. The light from the city and the candles make the room feel warm and cozy. When she emerges from the bathroom, she is completely naked. Her skin looks milky white in the light; her long hair is falling over her bare shoulders. A small tuft of dark hair trimmed short above her crotch.

Her arms are slender but muscled. Her legs long and mesmerizing. She has the most fantastic figure I have ever seen, just the right curves, rounded ass, and firm breasts. She looks me straight in the eyes and says.

"I am yours, Daddy, do with me as you please."

In my hand is ten meters of hemp pink rope. 

"Come over here, Baby," I say to her, my eyes not leaving hers. I take her hands in mine, loop the double-folded rope around her wrists in a knot, tight, but too tight. Locking the knot, I wrap it around her slim waist, a couple of turns before securing it behind her back.

I take her head in my hands, looking her deep in her eyes, and ask her.

"Do you remember the safe word, Baby?" She nods.

"Say it, Baby," I tell her firmly, and she does.

We have done things like this before, but not more than just foreplay. So, this is important for us both. Satisfied, I kiss her, bite her lip, and my hands in a firm grip around her arms.

My cock is craving attention. With one hand on the rope and the other one guiding her body, I sit her down on her knees on the carpeted floor. I unzip my pants; my cock is hard and erect. I take hold of her head, guiding it towards me, the tip of my cock push against her lips. She immediately opens her mouth, sucking greedily on it.

She gives the best head I have ever had. It makes no sense; she is eighteen, how can this be? But she does everything right. Not just how she takes my cock in her mouth, but how she looks me in the eyes doing it. She is so totally there, and it does not feel like she is uncomfortable in any way. Her tongue is circling my glans, her lips around my shaft.

She slurps and spits; saliva fills her mouth as my cook glide in and out of her mouth. I steady her head; she knows what I want. When I feel her relax, I push my throbbing cock deeper and deeper. I feel the back of her throat against my knob, I push slowly, waiting for it to open up.

Slowly I feel myself sliding past; her eyes are wide, saliva is running out her mouth, her body is tensing. I slide out, letting her breathe, then back again. She takes it all; I fuck her throat until I am sure I can’t hold back anymore. Her face is flustered, red and sweaty, saliva, and precome drip down her lips over her breasts.

I help her up, a massive grin on my face.

The bedposts are wooden and thick. I guide her on to the bed, place her back. From my bag, I bring more rope, this time black and not as thick. I tie up both her legs, securing them to the bedposts. She can’t move, only wiggle and jerk against the ropes.

One of the candles I lit earlier is for play. I pick it up and move over to her. The flame is dancing around, creating shadows on the walls. Her eyes have a look of lust, excitement. 

I move the candle around in the air, letting it melt and drip on her body. First on her more muscled parts, her shoulders, legs, arms. She squirms when the heat touches her skin. I drip some more on her breasts, and she sucks in air through her nose, and she twitches as each drop falls. I create small patterns all over her breasts, then slowly, slowly dripping a line over her stomach, turning, first down one thigh, then up again and down the next. 

Sweat is beginning to pearl on her forehead. And I can see between her spread legs, small beads of wetness on her lips. Putting the candle away and kneel between her thighs and kiss her everywhere except her pussy. 

I spread her lips with my fingers; she is already dripping wet, my tongue circles closer and closer to her. I suck each lip into my mouth, tasting the sweetness of her. Her clitoris hard as a pebble when I suck it in between my lips. She gasps. 

With my mouth and fingers, I massage her for a long time, bringing her close to come, but not pushing her over the edge. Again, and again. I reach into my pocket and bring out a handful of clothespins, still licking her.

As I let the first pin clip around one of her labia lips, a small surprised cry leaves her mouth. I keep adding them, one by one until there are six of them. The last two, I put on her nipples.

I stand up, looking at her, tied up on the bed. She is so beautiful. So full of youth. I leave her, heading out into the other room. When I come back, I have a glass of champagne with me, sipping on it while I stand next to her. I take out my phone and snaps a couple of pictures of her. They are for us both, for later. While finishing my drink, I keep poking the clothespins, tighten them, releasing them.

I crawl back between her legs, removing all the pins from her now swollen pussy. Again, I press my face against her, poking my tongue as far into her as I can. I am fucking her with my tongue. From my bag, next to the bed, I grab a glass wand. With my tongue still licking her, I press it against her ass, her fantastic rosebud. She is so tight, but she is so wet from pussyjuice and my saliva that it slides in with ease. I fantasize that it is my cook, not the wand filling out her ass.

I can feel the orgasm building up inside her, she moans and cries of pleasure escape her. I let go of the wand, leaving it inside her and push two of my fingers into her pussy. I find her g-spot, pressing against it, stroking it, faster and faster. Her legs thrash against the ropes, my hand is furiously fucking her, and then she comes, squirting all over, it gushes out of her while I keep massaging her. I retake hold of the wand with my other hand, fucking both her glorious holes, while she cries out in pleasure, again and again.

Her body is limp against the mattress, spend from the orgasms. I untie her legs, then her hands. She will have bruises tomorrow, especially on her legs. I take her hands in mine, sitting her up. Then I turn her over, place her on all fours on the bed. I want to spank her sexy ass, but I am way too horny for that, my cook is throbbing so hard in my pants I cannot think of anything else, then to bury it deep inside her.

I strip off all my clothes, ripping off the button of my pants. My hands grab her butt cheeks hard, and I push myself into her dripping wet pussy. She is still so tight, wet as hell, but tight as a vise. I want to go slow, savor it, but I cannot. I fuck her, as deep as I can. My fingers are gripping her harder and harder. Fuck, she is so sweet. I want to explode now. But I force myself to stop, and I lay down next to her, my cock standing straight up like a pole.

"Ride me, Baby," I manage to say as my arms move her on top of me.

This is not how my fantasies about being a stern Daddy go, but I don’t care.

I want her, want to see her face, her eyes, her lips. I want to caress her breasts and body while she rides me. Her fingers play with the hair on my chest as she slides down on me. I sit up, takes hold of her body, and hugs her close, my cock deep inside her. She bounces up and down on me, and we kiss. I feel the orgasm building up inside me, I should stop, but I can’t. Instead, I give up, and I come deep inside her while she is kissing me.

We sit like this for a long time, saying nothing and just holding on to one another. I don’t want this moment ever to end.

In my head, I had imagined so many more things I wanted to do to her this night. Kinky things, but instead, we just lay down on the bed, both of us spent. She cuddles up close to me, her head resting on my chest.