“That’s it, that’s good.” Rugby Boy sounded tense, almost pissed off, and his hand was still tight in her hair. Kate thrilled over those things the way a normal girl might thrill over gentle kisses and soft words. She began to experiment with her grip, using both hands and her mouth. As she played around with her technique, the man attached to the penis was silent, his hand rising and falling with her head. Kate was a little disappointed, she’d been hoping for more dirty talk, but this was okay. It made him seem careless, a lazy lordly type who was content listening to the sloppy sounds of her mouth and enjoying how humiliatingly eager she was.
Her mind, as it sometimes did in these moments, wandered to Tyler Henderson. She didn’t know if any real dominant tendencies lay behind his commanding façade, but the idea that they might did stuff to her. Whenever she was struggling to finish herself, she slotted him into her fantasies and she was there within seconds. Unable to help herself, she did it now.
“You horny little slut,” she imagined him saying as he thrust into her throat. “You like staring at me? Imagining me fucking your needy little body? This is what you deserve.”
Kate moaned, the razor blade of wrongness grating oh-so-pleasurably against the whetstone of her arousal. She felt kind of bad for pretending Rugby Boy was someone else, but who was to say he wasn’t picturing the Hadid sisters or Ansel Elgort or something? She began moving her mouth and hands even faster, needing him to finish, needing to be a good girl.
Rugby Boy’s fist tightened in her hair. “You like suckin’ dick, huh?"
Kate confirmed her liking-ness with a moan.
“Tell me you like it. Say my name.”
Uh oh.
Kate sucked deeper, hoping to override the question with sheer blowjob excellence, but Rugby Boy pulled on her hair so that she released him with a ‘pop.’ “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“You tell me you like it, right now and you say my name while you do it.”
Oh geez. Kate began flipping through a mental Rolodex of possible names. Sean was a common name. Statistically, there was a good chance he was called Sean. Should she call him Sean? No, she shouldn’t call him Sean. Maybe she could give him a cute epithet instead. ‘I like sucking your cock, babe.’
No, not babe. ‘Handsome,’ or ‘sexy’ didn’t seem right either. But what the hell did that leave? High Commissioner? Lord and Savior? Mine Führer?
“I’m waiting,” he snarled.
Panic rose in her gut and it occurred to her; this was a one-night stand; she could call Rugby Boy what she always wanted to call the men she was in bed with. It might freak him out, but she wasn’t going to see him again. And surely, since she was sucking him off, he could cut her some slack in the name-calling department? Kate smiled up at the shadow she assumed was his face. “I like sucking your cock, Daddy.”
Rugby Boy’s body went rigid. The hand in her hair fell limply to her side. Kate's cheeks grew hot, and she wondered whether she should try to force down her shame using his cock as a plunger, or sit up, wipe her mouth and try to explain that what she’d said had nothing, not one thing, to do with incest.
Before she could decide on either, his hand rose, clasping her hair once more. “Say that again.”
Kate’s heart leapt into her mouth. Was he angry? Was he going to yell at her? “I-I like sucking your cock.”
“Little girl.” His voice was icy with disdain. “Say what you just called me again.”
But she couldn’t. Instead she asked, “Are you mad at me?”
There was a silence more loaded than all the guns in a gun-nut's gun locker. Then he spoke. “No, but I want you to say it again.”
“But I—”
“Not what I want to hear, sweetheart.” He gently forced her head back, not hard, but firm. His manhandling and the sense of powerlessness it arose in her made Kate quiver.
How did you know? she wanted to ask. I never told you, how did you know? But, she supposed in the scheme of things that didn’t matter as much as following orders. She swallowed. “I like sucking your cock, Daddy.”
Rugby Boy let out a furious growl forced her head down.
“Suck,” he demanded. “Put your lips around it and suck.”
She opened her mouth and engulfed him like a sword swallower. He moaned and within seconds he was—there was no other phrase for it—riding her face, thrusting into her mouth with a ferocity that both frightened and aroused her. It was all she could do to keep her jaw wide and not to bite him as he worked himself between her lips. He wasn’t silent anymore, he was making the hottest noises Kate had ever heard, shallow inhales and muttered curse words as though he both loved and hated what she was doing to him.
It’s happening, she thought as she hummed to keep herself from choking. I met Rugby Boy, and it turned out he’s The Boy, the instantly perfect sex partner every woman hopes to meet but never finds. This is how Lief from Deltora Quest felt when he realised he was the king, probably.
She arched her back, her inner muscles clenching on nothing, and she knew for the first time in her life that she was going to have an orgasm with another person. He didn’t have to ask her about her favourite positions or go down on her until his jaw was numb, if he so much as breathed on her pussy she would—
“Coming.” Rugby Boy reached down and cupped her right breast. “Coming in your tight little throat.”
Kate barely had time to moan her eagerness before he convulsed against her tongue, jamming himself as deep as he could and swearing fit to make a nun blush. Kate choked a little but kept swallowing, her need to please outweighing the needs of her soft palate. His taste was hot and clean, like freshly tumble dried t-shirts.
He withdrew from her mouth, his big fingers brushing clumsily down her cheek. “Good. Good girl.”
It was a sign of how twisted she was that Kate couldn’t remember ever being so proud. She bent to lick him clean, but Rugby Boy pulled away. “That’s enough.”
He tugged up his briefs and collapsed back onto the bed, his unsteady panting the only sign he’d just violently orgasmed in her mouth. Kate licked her lips. Was it over now? Was Rugby Boy the kind of guy who lost interest the minute he was done? Her one and only ex-boyfriend had been like that, and it had frustrated the hell out of her. Bossy ‘you serve me’ selfishness turned her on, but there was nothing sexy about almost cracking your jaw open to please someone and getting nothing in return. Maybe he wasn’t her perfect sex man after all.
A hairy thigh nudged her shoulder. “Come up here.”
Kate clambered up the bed, tracing her tongue over her teeth, trying to clean her mouth as much as possible. Rugby Boy shuffled back so he was sitting against the headboard, then seized her hips and sat her on top of his thighs. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Kate still couldn’t see him properly, but being this close was making her shy. She cast her eyes downwards, feeling fragile. She’d called a man ‘daddy.’ She’d never done that in real life before. Rugby Boy stroked her arms, his palms rough as tan-bark. Weird that a student had such rough hands but Kate had never been touched by a rugby player before. Maybe they all had hands like that.
“That was good work,” Rugby Boy told her. “Best head I’ve had in a long while.”
She smiled, still unable to look at him. Without warning, he slid a hand between her legs and inspected the state of her underwear. “You’re soaking,” he remarked, sounding mildly surprised. As though he’d looked out the window on a cloudless day to see it was drizzling. “You want a little something, sweetheart?”
Kate nodded, then a rough finger forced her chin up. “Can’t hear you.”
“Yes, I want something,” she whispered, adoring him more than was strictly necessary.
“Good girl.”
Without warning Rugby Boy shoved her wet panties aside and slid a large fingertip through her folds, dipping himself inside her. Kate cried out at the sudden compression of such swollen skin. She gripped Rugby Boy’s thick shoulders.
> “Yeah, that’s it, hold onto me.” A broad thumb placed itself against her clit. There was no preamble about it, no fuss. He began to stroke her sensitive nerves with the light, precise brushes of a master painter. “I’m gonna make you come like this, okay?”
No ‘try.’ No ‘do my bests.’ Just ‘gonna,’ like her orgasm was a foregone conclusion. It was presumptuous and cocky and Kate could only whimper her agreement and hope like hell he was right.
Approximately ten seconds later she was riding his hand, gasping and moaning and humping his fingers like the most shameless slut on earth. The sopping wet sounds her motions were creating was embarrassing—but she still couldn’t stop. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. He didn’t seem at all concerned that he’d hurt her, that he would fail to get her off. That confidence was so attractive she could barely stand it. When blended with his finger-skills, his scent and the memory of his cock, Kate knew this was going to be the most memorable, sexual encounter of her life. Her engineer brain started whirring, trying to figure out how she could replicate this experience when she was alone, and the answer was—she couldn’t, not in a million years, not unless fully automated sex-robots arrived two hundred years earlier than predicted.
“Say it again,” Rugby Boy growled, frigging her. “Say it.”
This time Kate knew exactly what he wanted to hear. “Daddy,” she moaned. “Daddy.”
“That’s it gorgeous, keep saying it.”
Orgasms were like mountains, they had summits. Usually, when Kate was with another person, her arousal didn’t leave base camp one. She could carry herself a little higher using Sherpas—thoughts of men like Tyler Henderson spanking her, tying her down and using her as they saw fit–but the idea of reaching the pinnacle was laughable. She never orgasmed, except alone in her bed with all the time in the world and no expectations except her own. Tonight, that was different. Tonight she had wings and was speeding up the slopes in an icy blur. Her body was trembling, sweat beading on her back and between her breasts and she was going to come, she could feel it in her bones. And yet, no sooner had she thought that than the delicious buzz between her legs vanished.
“Daddy.” It was an involuntary cry, a plea that he wouldn’t let this end without her finding some satisfaction.
Rugby Boy’s fingers closed around her nipple. “You horny, sweetheart? You wanna finish?”
“Yes.” Please help me do it, Rugby Boy. Please?
His fingers curled inside her, thick and unrelenting. “Concentrate, focus on how I feel inside your tight little snatch. Nothing else matters. I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep fucking you with my fingers until you gush all over me, understand?”
There was something familiar about his words, as though he’d stolen them from a favourite movie, but maybe that was just because they were perfect. Kate was here, living a lifelong fantasy, why couldn’t she come? She worked hard, ate her greens, and gave money to Greenpeace, why couldn’t she have an orgasm with another person, just this once?
“I understand,” she told Rugby Boy, then screwed up the last of her courage. “Can you...keep talking to me please, Daddy?”
“Of course I can.” He began to move his fingers faster, his free hand tugging her aching nipple through her t-shirt. Kate closed her eyes, and she felt the gears slowly begin to turn, tightening, galvanising. The potential for orgasm was drumming inside her, and she honed in on it, trying to make herself as aware as possible.
She’d met a hot stranger who liked being called ‘daddy’ and who knew exactly what to do to turn her on. It was like the universe had conspired to let her come, all she had to do was embrace it. Rugby Boy’s fingers bit down on her nipple, and the pain was as lovely as the sizzle of pleasure that shot down to her groin. “I really like that.”
He chuckled darkly. “I know you do, I can feel you tightening up around my fingers. You gonna finish all over me, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said and meant it.
Rugby Boy let out an angry sounding moan. “God, I'm fuckin’ hard again.”
The wonder in his voice made Kate think this wasn't a regular thing. That was odd, she’d have assumed most young guys could get it up twice. Then again, she’d barely had sex, so what did she know?
As he rolled his thumb over her clit, Kate had a beautiful realisation. As unbelievable as Rugby Boy’s finger skills were, they could two-birds-one-stone this situation. She wanted to have sex with him, and if she did, she could try and have the orgasm simmering in her pelvis on his magnificent dick. That would be a double victory. She pressed her mouth against Rugby Boy’s ear. “Do you want to have sex now?”
He let out another furious grunt, his fingers pumping deeper. “No.”
“But I really want to feel you inside me. You’re so big.”
“Too bad,” he said, but his breathing had become painfully laboured again. Kate was half-convinced this was a test, that he was teasing her as she had been teasing him. She assumed her most innocent tone. “Please, Daddy?”
Rugby Boy made a noise like a wild animal. “Fuck, you’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
Kate, sensing she was about to get her way, added a little more sugar to her voice. “Yes, and I know it’s bad but I want it. I want you.”
Rugby Boy muttered something that sounded like ‘why isn’t anything ever easy?’ Before she could ask, he pulled his fingers from her soaking slit. “Fine, you want my dick, you’ll get it.”
Kate bit back a jubilant ‘Yessssss!’ “How do you want to do this? Do you have a condom? I don’t think I have a condom.”
“Sweetheart...” Rugby Boy cupped her jaw. Kate could smell herself on his fingers.
“What?”
She felt him shake his head. “Nothing. I’ll fuck you, but you’ll get back down there and suck me first. Get me nice and hard for you.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, the word getting easier with each and every use.
“Good, and take your fucking fingers away from there.”
Kate, who hadn’t even realised she was rubbing her clit, had her hand snatched away.
“That’s mine.” Rugby Boy ran a finger through the wet line of her cunt. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine. Now, get me ready.”
Kate propped herself on all fours between his legs, almost delirious with pleasure. Who knew that in Bendigo (population: ha-ha-ha) there lived the sex partner of her dreams? As she bent down and took him into her mouth, she began planning excuses for return visits. Maybe she could schedule an engineering job up here? It was out of the way, but he was worth it. The question was, would he be interested? Determined to prove her mettle, she took him as far into her throat as she could.
“That’s it.” His big hand braced itself around her jaw, as though testing how wide she could open her mouth. “Suck Daddy’s big cock.”
Rugby Boy calling himself that most treasured and lust-inspiring of titles made sweat break out on Kate’s neck. As she sucked she heard foil crackle and her heart leapt. She’d been worried about interrupting all the hotness to ask about condoms again, but it was clear Rugby Boy wasn’t going to be a jerk about this. She reminded herself to feel around the base of his shaft before he slid inside her, to make sure it was on. She’d learned about the stealthing movement at derby practise. It was real and it was terrifying.
“Just a little more,” Rugby Boy coached. “Just a little deeper and I’ll ride your pussy, Middleton.”
Kate sucked harder, tasting small surges of salty pre-come. She felt uneasy, as though his short sentence had been a threat. She replayed his words in her mind. Just a little more. Just a little deeper and I’ll ride your pussy, Middleton.
Middleton. Why would Rugby Boy call her Middleton? She had a lot of nicknames, but each one was restricted to a specific group of people. She called herself Kate. Her family called her Katie. Her roller derby team called her Macca, the Australian appellation for anyone with a McLastname. Her derby name was Princ
ess Bleach. Her Aunt Rhonda had called her KJ. Only the guys at work called her Middleton. Only the guys at work...
Kate felt like she’d been plunged into a dunk tank full of nitrogen. She remembered showing Rugby Boy pictures of Kate Middleton on her phone because the nickname confused him, he’d heard it because Tyler Henderson had been there. Tyler Henderson had been there.
Kate suddenly knew, knew with every fibre of her being that the guy whose dick she was sucking on wasn't Rugby Boy. She sat up, woozy and terrified.
“What’s happening, Middleton?” In the dim light, Kate could see the stranger had a transparent disk of latex pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
He shifted, so the silvery brightness sifting through the curtains revealed his profile and now that she was looking, Kate recognised the nose, the line of his jaw, the sharp cheekbones. She was in bed with Tyler Henderson. Her boss. She’d blown her boss. She’d swallowed her boss’s semen. She’d called her boss ‘daddy.’ She was currently in the process of re-sucking stern, unfathomably attractive, thought she was the scum of the earth, Tyler Henderson.
“Hoooooaaaaaaaah!” Kate scrambled backward on the bed, flapping her hands as though they were covered in wasps. “Hoooaaaaahh!”
“Middleton?” Tyler Henderson glanced around the room, no doubt trying to pinpoint the reason for her sudden insanity. “The fuck’s happening?”
But Kate could only moan and say ‘hoooaahhh’ and wriggle backward. How could she have missed it? Even in the semi-darkness, the broad body was nothing like a twenty-year-old’s. It was thick with muscle and hairy across the middle and, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!”
“Middleton.” Ty’s voice punched through the air like a Ginsu knife. “Talk. To. Me.”
His voice was so familiar, liquid steel and molten lead. Why hadn’t she recognised him?
Kate pressed a hand to her chest. “Mr Henderson. It’s me, Kate. We’re...we’re hooking up!”
Everything went quiet. Kate could hear a cacophony of crickets chirruping outside the hotel window. She became profoundly aware of her half-naked body, her insanely wet panties and aching nipples. She’d done oral with Tyler Henderson. Kate hadn’t been a proper believer for years but the urge to drop to her knees and say the entire Hail Mary was overwhelming.
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