by Lena Little
“Good,” I growl with a smirk, “because that’s exactly what you’re always going to get from me. Everything.”
Does this girl not realize she’s fulfilling every fantasy I didn’t even know I had right now? Just her presence creates fantasies and then fulfills them at the same time. This girl is mind blowing, and there’s literally no one else on earth like her. I swear I’m the luckiest man alive, because I’ve got her.
“Are you ready, sweet girl?”
Her cheeks redden. “Yes.”
“Do you understand what’s going to happen?”
“You’re going to,” she swallows hard and then points at my dick. “Somehow fit that in here,” her hand moving toward her opening. “And then it’s going to explode inside me and we’re going to have a baby.”
Possessiveness shoots through me at the thought of claiming her, giving her my seed and making a baby with her. “That’s right, princess, but you forgot one thing.”
“What, Daddy?”
“You’re going to come first. Daddy doesn’t get to have his eruption until his little girl erupts first. That’s how it works. You always come first, in all ways.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, but the pleasure is honestly all Daddy’s. Just knowing that I,” I say, moving my hand to her pussy, cupping it, “am going to be the only man to ever see your private parts, to enter them, and to explode inside them? That’s the greatest gift you could ever give Daddy…and the baby and family that comes along with it. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Daddy. I want to be a mommy, a mommy to your children.”
“Good girl. You’re such a good girl I’m going to make you the mommy to my children many, many times. And they won’t just be my children. They’ll be our children.”
“Is this going to hurt, Daddy?” she asks out of nowhere, causing me to suck in a breath of air through my teeth, causing a hissing sound as what I want so badly gets delayed.
“At first, precious. But then it’s going to hurt in a good way, pleasure spiked with pain as I stretch you open, as your body adjusts to take all of me.”
“But my hole is brand new, Daddy. I don’t know if it will stretch that far.”
“Oh, it’s going to stretch, Little Girl. Daddy’s going to stretch it and you’re going to love it.” I pause. “Do you trust, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want Daddy to stretch you…even if it hurts at first?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s because you want Daddy’s come splashed all across your womb.”
“I want that. Give it to me.”
“You understand this might be hard at first…people seeing us, seeing you pregnant and thinking you’re my daughter and not my wife.”
“I’m not your wife.”
“Not yet, but you’re going to be damn soon. Really soon.”
“Ok. I don’t care what other people think. As long as we’re happy.”
“Atta girl.”
I slide a hand under her lower back, lifting her midsection up so it’s pressing into me. I can feel the cream from her pussy already dripping out of her and I quickly take my other hand and run two fingers straight up her folds, drying her and then inserting those fingers into my mouth.
My eyes roll back in my head as I lick my fingers dry, hungry for more but needing to breed her first. My cock is dripping like a broken faucet and I need to get this first load, this first gift, inside her before it comes out too soon.
I fist my shaft, tap her clit with my crown and she moans. Running the tip through her virgin flesh she thrusts her hips upward, her body greedy for this big dick that I’ve been saving for her and only her.
I continue scissoring my rod through her folds until she’s at the brink herself, her hands releasing the comforter and grabbing my back, her nails digging into my flesh.
I nip at her neckline and then tug at her earlobe, my cock needing to be buried to the hilt inside her. Fisting the fucker I line it up to her opening and she sucks in a big breath of air and I can’t tell if she’s terrified or willing herself into doing this.
At the same moment my lips come crashing down on hers, hard, as I claim her mouth while my cock enters her pussy, claiming her innocence in the same breath, although her body has completely stilled.
“Breathe, my little virgin,” I say.
“Da—ddy. I’m. Not. A virgin anymore.”
“That’s right,” I smirk. “You’re mine.”
She whimpers and wiggles underneath me, and I can see the look on her face and know she’s uncomfortable.
“Daddy’s not hurting you is he?”
“No Daddy. Deeper.”
Slowly I slide in a bit more, moving out and then back into the same depth a few times more before sliding in a fraction deeper. No way am I going to hurt her or even potentially tear something. But we need to push past this pain…together. If she only remembers the pain this won’t be a good experience for her, or something to look back on fondly.
I kiss the side of her neck and then take her nipple in my mouth, her upper back arching into my face as I clamp down hard, sucking her chest.
“Give that nipple to Daddy just like you’re giving him your virgin pussy, my good little girl.”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m all yours, but you’re so…so big. It’s hard.”
“Oh, Daddy is hard all right, and it’s all your fault.”
“Are you going to spank me Daddy.”
“Like this?” I ask rocking our bodies to the side exposing a cheek so I can give it a quick slap.
“Oh yeah,” she moans. “Again.”
I give my baby girl what she wants and it’s as if a light switch has been flipped. There’s no more pain mixed with pleasure, only absolute satisfaction written all over her face and on full display by her body language.
I slap her little ass again and her hand comes around grabbing my wrist and trying to hold it there. No way in hell she’s strong enough for me, but I play along, leaving my hand on her globe and kneading her ass meat through my fingers.
These spankings have me even more fired up than I already was and before I realize what’s happening I feel my cock pressing against her womb and the feeling of all that stimulation on the tip of my crown has me on the edge.
“I’m close, little princess, but you need to come first like I said. Your needs always come first, so come…come on Daddy’s cock. Squeeze his big cock with your tight little pussy,” I command.
“Oh fuck, Daddy,” she breaths out, displaying a side of her vocabulary I wasn’t sure even existed in such an innocent girl.
Her hips wiggle and she grinds her clit into my pelvis and then everything stops just before her body buckles and then kicks as every part of her spasms and her pussy clamps down on my rod with a vice like grip as she coats my cock in her cream.
Feeling her walls close around me, trying to milk me has my body ready to meet her demands and I thrust twice more, too strong for her pussy’s best death grip, until my cock slams into her womb and I absolutely explode, painting a Jackson Pollock inside her as my hips quake and my arms shake.
“Fuck, Daddy. Come in my pussy. Make me pregnant with your baby.”
My head spins and there’s not enough oxygen in the world right now to calm my brain. My body kicks and jerks some more and finally I collapse on top of her just as her body stills at the same moment.
I roll to the side, trying not to squash my little one, my chest heaving.
“How was I, Daddy?” she asks in-between pants of her own.
“Perfect except for one thing?”
“I did something wrong?” she asks, her bottom lip turned up as if I just crushed her entire world.
“You said my baby when you should have said our baby.”
“I like the sound of that,” she adds, her mood immediately turning on a dime as she nuzzles into my neck.
“And I like everything about you, princess.”
/> I run my hands through her hair, feeling its stickiness due to her sweat, or is it mine? Then again does it even matter? No. Because what’s hers is mine and what’s mine is hers. We’re one, united forever. There’s no telling where one of us stops and the other starts, just how a real couple is meant to be.
And that’s exactly what we are…a couple of weirdos by society’s definition at least, but together, two wrongs sure as hell do make a right. And we’re right for each other and each other only.
My heart belongs to her and her alone just as hers belongs only to me.
I pull her body in closer, kissing her forehead. “Thank you for your special gift, angel.”
“Thank you for your special gift, Daddy.”
“Alexa?” I ask softly.
“Uh huh?”
“We’re special friends now, you understand?”
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever Daddy has a need you fulfill Daddy’s need. And whenever you have a need Daddy fulfills your need. You understand?”
“Like when Daddy has a need to be naughty?”
“Any need, precious. That’s what we do. We do everything for each other.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Daddy. You’re first in my life. You mean everything.”
“Just as you mean everything to me,” I say, tucking her into my side. “You need some electrolytes,” I say. “And daddy needs to inspect you to make sure our little game didn’t hurt you.”
“Can we lay like this a little longer, Daddy?”
“We sure can, snuggle bear.”
She smiles even bigger than I’ve ever seen her smile before.
“But if we stay like this too long Daddy might have to tickle you in these new places we’re discovering together so he can get you some Gatorade and his shaving mirror to make sure your little body accepted Daddy’s body without any problems.”
“There’s only one problem, Daddy?”
“What’s wrong?” I spit, jerking my body up off the bed. I grit my teeth, angry that something didn’t go perfectly her first time.
“Not like that, silly,” she teases. “The only problem is that it can’t be the first time every time, and that we didn’t do this sooner.”
“Waiting made it more special and because Daddy’s a teacher he can teach you something right now. Do you want to learn?”
“Yes, please,” she says, her head tilting and her big eyes looking up at mine, ready to soak up the knowledge.
“We can pretend it’s your first time whenever we want.”
“But we’ll know it’s not.”
“The biggest sexual organ is the brain. If we try hard enough we can convince it of anything, just like we convince it our little Daddy and little girl play is real.”
“It is real, Daddy.”
“It sure is,” I say, making myself comfortable on the bed again. “Just like what we have,” I say softly into her ear. “It’s real and it’s perfect, because that’s exactly what you are.”
“I love learning from you.”
“And I love teaching you, and I can’t wait to teach you more about life for the rest of our lives.”
“Together.”
“Always.”
6
Alexa
Sitting next to Alexander at the dinner table I watch as he meticulously cuts the stake he just prepared with the precision of a surgeon. It reminds me of how he instructs. Everything is planned, prepared, and there is no deviation from the lesson plan. All t’s are crossed and all i’s are dotted.
He stabs the piece of mouthwatering steak with an immaculately clean fork and brings it to my lips.
“How is it?” he asks, after I lean forward and take it into my mouth.
“Incredible. It’s as if you knew exactly how to cook it.”
“I do. I’ve tried many techniques and this one is the best I’ve found.”
“What do you mean by techniques? Recipes?”
“Yeah, I guess you could call them that.”
Why is my mind running wild now? Why am I questioning any of this all of a sudden after what already happened? Why did I wait until now to stop and think if acting out my fantasy was a good idea.
“I can tell something’s on your mind,” he says calmly, taking a bite of the steak himself before feeding me another.
“No, everything’s fine,” I mumble, trying to maintain some level of manners as I talk with the best piece of meat I’ve ever tasted in my mouth. Then again, meat isn’t usually on the menu at all at my house, unless you count Spam.
I should be kissing his feet, knowing this king has already made me his queen, saving me from a life of struggle. Even with a good scholarship, my mom was always going to hold me back, mostly mentally which is the toughest part of it all.
“Everything’s not fine,” Alexander says, bringing me back into the moment. “Alexa,” he says, putting down the fork and gently taking my chin in-between his first finger and thumb, raising my head slightly. “As an instructor it’s my job to realize when a student is struggling.”
“And before you were an instructor?”
“It was my job to read people then too.”
“What was that job exactly?” I blurt out.
His hand slowly glides along the angle of my chin before he brings both hands down to the table, placing each to a side of his plate making him look extremely formal out of nowhere. This is especially odd considering we’re sitting in our underwear eating a freshly cooked steak at one in the morning after multiple rounds of sex. Oh, and that’s after first taking my virginity. This can’t be normal…nor can he, at least in the traditional sense.
“We need to talk,” he says calmly.
“I agree,” I say softly, suddenly unsure if I want to come across as too aggressive to a man who almost seems anal retentive in some ways and also has a knife, which looks very sharp by the way, just inches from his hand. “And I won’t judge you or get up and walk out, no matter what.”
“Sweetheart, you’re always free to leave whenever you want.”
My eyes narrow, shocked at his words.
“But just realize the second you walk out that door one of the world’s best hunters of humans will be on your trail and have you back in his arms, where you belong, before you can even reach the sidewalk.”
I swallow hard. “I’m guessing that ‘best hunter of humans’ part is what we need to talk about.”
He leans back in his chair, his body still firm and rigid, his posture still regal, but not quite how it was before. It’s more welcoming now, but not by much. More than anything it’s as if he’s disarming himself, and ready to let me in on some untold secret. And I’m all ears.
“What do the students at school think about me?”
I’m a bit taken back, but I go with it anyway. “Well, the girls all think you’re hot, because you are, and the guys…I’m not exactly sure.”
“Because they’re too focused on the girls, who are more focused on the older foreign guys.”
“There’s only one older foreign guy in school. We don’t even have an exchange student.”
“I knew that before I applied for the position that didn’t exist.”
“Come again?”
He breathes in and then out, his body relaxing a bit more. “Are you familiar with the Russian mafia?”
“No, but I’ve watched the Sopranos and some movies about the Italian mafia.”
“Imagine the Italian mafia without the sharp suits, picturesque cities and cobblestone streets, and much less civility and class in general. Imagine instead of family ties making or breaking you, imagine your connections and plots all coming together in jails that aren’t even underfunded, but completely unfunded. Basically here’s four walls and some bars. Throw everybody in and the ones who figure out how to bribe the guards will be able to get food and survive, if they don’t get shanked first.”
“That’s your life?”
“Fortunately not, because I got in
volved in organized crime early and as a kid I had some time to build alliances with powerful figures before too much was expected of me.”
“Too much meaning what?”
“Anything the boss wants.” He pauses. “I tried to be Switzerland, not committing to anyone, ever. And in doing so I knew I had to carve out my own niche before I got carved up myself.”
“So you chose…?” I swallow hard, not sure if I want to hear his answer or not.
“I chose to protect my family, and that meant the first thing I did was kill the bastard who raped and hurt my mother.”
I cringe. “And in doing so I became a bastard at the same time, not that my father was a participant in anything that involved me or my life in the first place. He’d just roll into town once or twice a year, slap my mom around and take all the money she’d managed to save and hide around the house, and then have his way with her. And of course give me enough backhands to be a Wimbledon tennis champion in the process, as he was still angry that I existed in the first place.”
“That sounds terrible,” is embarrassingly all I can come up with, my appetite completely lost at this point.
“Not for my mother and I. It was the best thing that could have ever happened, except my dad was a soldier for one of the families, which meant I’d killed one of their men, which meant I owed them.”
“So you joined one of the Russian mobs?”
“I did one better. I remained independent and instead grabbed my mother and moved to the middle of nowhere, then moved back to the outskirts of Moscow and began doing mob hits for hire.”
“You’re joking?”
“I wish that wasn’t my life, but you deserve the truth.”
The fork and knife on the table begin rattling and it’s only then I realize my hands are shaking so bad that a bit of my sparkling water has spilled over the top of my glass, not that I liked it anyway. It’s the first time I’ve ever tried it and I figure it must be an acquired taste that people like me, people from my socio-economic class aren’t accustomed to.
“Then what?”
“Eventually enough was enough. I had enough money that I never had to work again, enough money that I could get my mom out of the country, a fake passport and completely new identity, and a little place next to the beach where she can sell lemonade and swim in the sea over three hundred days a year.”