Brother's Best Friend's Package

by Cassandra Bloom

  Yeah, Daddy. Bad girl needs her punishment.

  Are you a filthy slut, baby? Don’t make Daddy take off his belt.

  Oh, no, Daddy. Not the belt.

  Yes, baby. You need it bad. I’m gonna make you scream.

  Oh, please, no. Don’t hurt me, Daddy. I swear I’ll be good.

  Oh, you fucking little Princess. You’re Daddy’s little piece of ass, aren’t you? Is your pussy wet right now?

  Yes. Daddy makes me so wet with his dirty talk.

  Send me a pic, baby. Send me a vid of you fingering your horny little cunt. I want to see and hear how wet you are.

  Her heart leaped at the chance to show herself to him. Everything culminated in this moment. He made her so raging horny this morning. Then the crushing hurt of losing him, followed by the soaring thrill of getting him back, left her breathless.

  She set her phone to video mode and raised her shirt above her breasts. She hitched up her bra so her tits stuck out. The nipples stood erect, and she squeezed them forward with her arms on both sides.

  She slid her sweat pants down, along with her panties. She spread her legs for the camera, and her wet lips glistened. She dabbed her fingers into her steaming hole and moaned. She worked her fingers around her clit and beat herself to a screaming frenzy. Send.

  He didn’t answer right away. Oh, my God, baby. That is one of the best ones yet.

  Thinking of you. She slid her clothes on and settled back on the couch. This was the stuff summer evenings were made for.

  He didn’t respond for a while. She got up and started making dinner when he texted back. I just had a raging cum over that video. You totally blow me away.

  She stirred her spaghetti sauce and sucked the spoon clean. Glad you liked it.

  Was it good for you?

  Sure.

  He took even longer to respond this time. Why was she giving one-word answers? She drained the noodles and set the table for one. So how do you feel now?

  She put the food on the table and sat down with her phone next to her plate. She liked talking to him during meals. He kept her company. I’m a little sad since you ask.

  What are you sad about?

  I used to fantasize about meeting you, riding off somewhere on your Harley, and you fucking me senseless. That will never happen now.

  I’m sorry, baby.

  Stop saying that. I can’t stand when you say that.

  Okay, I’m not sorry.

  I know you’re not. You did this on purpose.

  Maybe I did it on purpose so we could come to something better than texting and internet sex chat.

  Something better like what?

  I don’t know. Something better like fucking in person where we both know everything there is to know about the other person.

  You’re talking about a relationship. That won’t happen now, either.

  Why won’t it?

  Because you’re my boss. That’s why.

  Well, I’m not giving up on it just yet. Maybe there’s a way we can have our cake and eat it, too.

  I’m having my spaghetti and eating it, too.

  Is it good?

  Yep. Lots of garlic just the way I like it.

  Don’t forget your mints tomorrow morning.

  I’m just joking, honey. I can’t stand garlic.

  LOL. I gotta go now. I’ll see you in the morning.

  Aww.

  Kisses and hugs. Sleep tight.

  She turned her phone off and slid it onto the counter behind her so she wouldn’t see it. She still couldn’t reconcile RipRoarer, her fantasy man, with her boss. In her mind, RipRoarer was bigger, rougher, louder, more muscled. Her boss was more refined, though maybe not any smaller.

  Why couldn’t she see them as one and the same man? They talked the same, though not about the same subjects. Her boss’s voice had a different timber than the voice she heard on his videos and on the phone the few times she let him call her and talk to her while she got herself off. Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen his tats. He kept his shirt on at the office.

  After dinner, she curled up on the couch again, but she put her phone on the charger in her bedroom. It wouldn’t keep her company tonight. Instead, she studied the project folders from the office. She went over the birthday lists and highlighted everyone in August. She was right about one thing. No one’s birthday came before her own. She would be the first employee to receive Matt’s acknowledgment, and she hadn’t done anything yet.

  She fell into a reverie thinking about the company—and him. What would it be like to unbutton his crisp dress shirt and find that chest underneath, that sexy, inked-up chest that made her mouth water? What would it be like to slide that cool Indian cotton aside to reveal the rounded pecs, the tribal patterns stitched across his abs and around the distinctive angles of his sides?

  What would it be like to kiss those patterns, to lick them and bite them and suck them? What would it be like to leave a trail of her saliva from his thick neck all the way down to the trail of black hair leading from his navel to the secret nest between his legs?

  She leaned back on the couch and tossed the folder on the coffee table. She let her mind drift, and her hands explore her body. Thinking about him—her boss, not RipRoarer—turned her on all over again. He made her cunt ache and her juices flow like never before. She wanted him. She wanted Matt, her boss.

  She closed her eyes and let her hands range over the same territory he covered in that alley, only this time, it was Matt touching her, not some mystery biker. He bent her over his desk with his big flat hand on her back. He hitched up her skirt and took a video of her begging him to fuck her.

  God, he made her so hot! She straddled him on his office couch and dug her fingernails into his chest to pump herself against his rock hard prick. She got on her hands and knees and backed up to him to take his dripping shaft to its limit. She did whatever he told her to, and she loved it.

  When she touched herself like this, when she imagined what he would do to his choice little assistant, she could appreciate him for what he was. He was everything RipRoarer was and so much more. She respected Matt in a way she never respected RipRoarer. Matt offered her a way to contribute, to develop, to be part of something larger. Maybe that’s what he meant. Maybe that’s why he did what he did.

  Just one minor detail failed to reconcile in her new estimation of him. She couldn’t reconcile Matt, her boss, with the wicked Daddy who wanted to punish her for her sinful thoughts and deeds. She couldn’t imagine him dominating her like that or taking his belt to her.

  On second thought, he did have a very nice black leather belt. Maybe that’s why he wore it, to keep it handy in case he needed it. Or maybe it turned him on to walk around in public, in his own multi-billion dollar company building, with his favorite sex tool wrapped around his waist. He announced his domination to the world, and no one ever got wise to it.

  Chapter 5

  Eva took special care when she got dressed the next morning. She chose the sexiest panties in her drawer, and she gave herself a spritz of perfume she didn’t bother with the first morning. She checked and rechecked her appearance in the mirror.

  Even before she left the bathroom, her pussy started leaking. She drenched her panties, but she didn’t change them. Wet panties turned her on even more. She massaged her pussy lips and squished her swollen flesh, and that’s how she walked out the door that morning.

  She went straight to her office this time. Matt hadn’t scheduled her for any meeting with him. She started on the database and finished the Augusts. Then she started on the foreign exchange research. She could pick up the birthday database at the end of August. She would work her way through the year, and that would leave her free to get some of these other projects finished.

  Ten o’clock rolled around, and she still hadn’t heard from Matt. Was he mad at her for something? She didn’t have time to wonder before the runner came in and handed her a folder containing the week’s submissions to the
newsletter. Eva turned off her computer and started reading them.

  The first three were poetry. The first submission was from an admin assistant in HR. The second was from a gardener who mowed the grounds. The third submission came from a senior accountant scheduled to retire in two years, and all three poems were stars and stripes better than anything Eva ever wrote.

  Her cheeks turned bright red when she read them. She set them aside. The next three submissions were short fiction. The first was a one-page murder mystery written by the shipping supervisor. The second was a romance with a sad ending penned by a delivery driver, and the third was a surreal pastiche about a drugged-out gangster written by the Chief Operations Officer.

  Eva stared at the pages. She couldn’t stop turning them. These people could write. I mean, they could really write! She thought she could write. Now she saw plain as day she didn’t know the first thing about putting words together on a piece of paper.

  Was this talent Matt’s work again? Had these seemingly ordinary people developed their talent in response to the outlet offered by the newsletter? Maybe the newsletter gave them a reason to hone their skill. Isn’t that what Matt meant about searching for a publisher? These pieces certainly deserved publication.

  Eva put the folder aside. She would feed these pieces into the newsletter one week at a time. She would keep them in reserve for those weeks when no one submitted anything. She would certainly put these pieces in the newsletter before her own pathetic attempts.

  Just before four o’clock, she got a text from Matt. Come into my office, please. I want to talk to you. What did he want, now that she was ready to walk out the door? Did he have another project for her?

  She left all her paperwork on her desk and took only her phone and tablet with her. She walked down the hall to Matt’s office and found the door ajar. When she went in, he called out to her from the same couch in the back corner. “Come and sit down over here, and shut the door behind you, please.”

  She sat across from him, the way she did yesterday. That seemed the most proper place to sit. She could fantasize about him at home, but she had to keep her head on straight at the office. She couldn’t look at the places where his shirt hugged his chest.

  He smiled at her, and she smiled back. “How’s everything been going?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Tell me everything you’ve been working on since yesterday.”

  “I started the birthday database and entered all the birthdays for August. I’ve just been reviewing the submissions for the newsletter and starting to research the foreign exchange situation. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

  “Great, and are you comfortable with me forwarding my calls and emails to you while I’m out of the office.”

  “So far, it’s gone fine. I wasn’t sure how it would work out, but I’m comfortable with it for now.”

  “Fantastic.”

  She looked from left to right. “Is that all? Is that the only reason you called me in here?”

  “No, there is something else I want to talk to you about?”

  “What is it?”

  “What color panties are you wearing today?”

  Her head shot up, and the blood rushed to her cheeks. “What?”

  His voice took on a razor-sharp edge. Where had she heard that voice before? She could remember only one place. She heard it when he called her and coached her into cumming for him on the phone. “I said what color panties are you wearing today.”

  She went rigid in her seat. “White.”

  He dropped his voice to a low rumble. She recognized that voice. Her vision blurred. She wasn’t talking to her boss anymore. She was talking to RipRoarer in the flesh. “Are they the lacy ones you showed me?”

  “Yes.”

  His voice cracked across the room. “What did you say?”

  She choked on the words. How did her professional life turn on a dime like that? How could she wind up in this situation when she swore not to? “I said, yes, Daddy.”

  “That’s my good girl. Are your lacy white panties wet for Daddy?”

  “Oh, yes, Daddy. You know you get me so wet.”

  “Let me see. Let me see how wet you are.”

  She stared at him. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his angular face. His eyes bored into her soul. She couldn’t move.

  Her cheeks flushed burning hot. She knew exactly what he wanted. How could she do it? How could she expose herself like this? Where was her respect for her job and for herself?

  None of that mattered now. He dominated her with his eyes. She had no choice to obey.

  Before she finished staring at him in astounded surprise, his voice lashed her to the bone. “Did you hear what I said? Daddy wants to see how wet you are. You know how much I hate to repeat myself. Don’t make me have to teach you to mind your manners.”

  Eva swallowed hard. “Yes, Daddy.”

  He waited. “Well?”

  With excruciating slowness, she spread her knees. She pulled up her skirt and let her thighs fall apart. Her soaking wet panties cut into her delicate petals. Her mouth fell open. Her lips pouted, and her breath caught in her throat.

  He glanced down at the white triangle between her legs. “That’s it, baby. Let me see you spread your legs for Daddy.”

  What was this man sitting across from her? She didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t RipRoarer, and he wasn’t the boss she admired and wanted to please. He was a completely different animal altogether.

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away, but she couldn’t hide from him. He saw straight into her heart, and not because she sent him a few naughty texts and videos of her playing with herself. He would know everything about her with a single glance. His eyes read everything in a heartbeat.

  He knew what she wanted. He knew she was wicked under her proper outer mask. He knew she longed to break free and explode into a fiery ball of passionate excess, and he would give her the means to do it.

  His fierce gaze traveled back and forth from her tortured face to her tantalizing crotch. “What does that feel like, baby? Does it turn you on to show yourself to me?”

  “Yes, Daddy. You know I want you to see me like this.”

  “Touch yourself, baby. Show me how you want me to touch you.”

  She dragged her fingertips up her thighs. A shudder swept through her when she grazed her heaving mound. She let her index finger brush her panties, but she dared not go any further. A ragged moan escaped her in spite of herself.

  “You like that, don’t you, baby? You like getting all worked up for me.”

  “Oh, yes, Daddy.”

  “Do you want me to touch you now?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Beg for it, baby. Beg me to touch you.”

  Wordless sobs answered him. He wouldn’t make this any easier for her. “Oh, oh, oh!”

  “You have to beg me, Princess. I have to know you really want it. If you don’t beg for it, you’ll have to do it yourself. Is that what you want?”

  “Oh, no, Daddy. Don’t leave me alone like this.”

  “Then let me hear you beg. I want to hear what a bad little girl you are.”

  “Oh, please, touch me, Daddy. You know I need it so bad.”

  “What do you need, baby? What do you want me to do?”

  “Fuck me, Daddy, please. I need your big bad cock right now.” She ended with a whimper.

  “Do you really want it, baby? Do you really want it bad?”

  “Oh, yes, please, Daddy. You know I need you.”

  “Turn over. Let me see you on your knees.”

  She hoisted herself off the couch and turned around to prop herself on her knees on the seat. She clutched the back of the seat for dear life. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the bulge in his lap. His jaw clenched again and again between the words rumbling out of his throat.

  She buried her face in the couch. She couldn’t look. What would he do next? Would he really touch her and end
this long stalemate? She couldn’t claim any longer that she wanted their relationship to stay strictly professional.

  She didn’t care anymore what happened. She couldn’t keep working at this job with him the way she was. She couldn’t work side by side with him during the day and keep texting RipRoarer at night. If it wasn’t going to work out one way or the other, she needed to know right now. Her body betrayed her. She wanted his touch, his rough treatment, more than she wanted any job.

  She heard him move, but she didn’t peek.

  “Pull up your skirt and take your panties off. Let me see that sweet pussy of yours.”

  She kept her eyes closed while she hitched her skirt around her waist and discarded her panties on the floor.

  “Now touch yourself. I want to see your juices flowing.”

  Her pulse pounded in her head, but she had to obey him. She stuck her hand down between her thighs and touched her flaming lips. They dripped their honey syrup onto her hands. She spread them with a gasp. The inner passage throbbed with hot blood.

  She rolled back the hood from her twitching clitoris and smeared her own juice around it. It snapped under her fingers, and a jolt of searing pleasure brought the moans to her lips.

  “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”

  She lifted her voice with every pass of her fingers. She dabbled in her welcoming hole and massaged her G spot. Her ass twitched and the nectar oozed from her fountain.

  Out of nowhere, a hand stroked her upturned ass. She jumped in surprise, but the next minute, his warm palm infused her raw skin with its delicious scent. It opened her tissues to him even further.

  His fingers touched hers, and he followed her movements up and over her clitoris, back to her gaping pussy, and inside to the ridges where her pleasure bubbled to the surface.

  She turned her face away. She hid her eyes in the couch and left only her panting mouth free to breath and moan at his touch. He rubbed her clit harder and faster than she did. He plunged his fingers into her channel farther, and his thick fingers stimulated all the most sensitive spots to bring her to her fulfillment.

  Before she knew what was happening, he buried his face in her cleft. His tongue joined her fingers in an erotic dance of quick flicks at her clit and long luscious licks of her sugary hole.