Daddy and I developed a routine after that night. He would come visit, mostly on the weekends, and we would fuck like rabbits. He started bringing me gifts; chocolates, flowers, jewelry that he would like to see on me and compliment me on it when I wore it for him. Some of it was not to my taste, but there was no doubt that it was quality; he was never a cheapskate. He would take me out to nice restaurants and always seemed to love the attention that we got. Truth be told I did as well. It was nice getting looks and glances as I walked with such a powerful man. All the jealous husbands and indignant wives were a bit of a treat too. I had never felt wanted, or envied in my life, and the attention was addicting.
I learned a lot more about daddy in those days too. We would sit in a fancy restaurant, the ones with far too many “market price” descriptions next to items on the menu, drinking wine and talking for hours. I had learned early on that part of the appeal of a babygirl and foreplay for him was the chat, and it took a lot to get him to open up. But when he did things changed. He was a really nice man under that busy, rough exterior. Or at least I thought so.
He had grown up poor, very poor. Part of a relatively large family held together by a single mom. When he was young she was hit by a car and died. he was separated from his brothers and put in foster care. He bounced around the east coast and got into some trouble along the way until he had a close call. It seemed to have really scared him, though he never told me what the close call was. He told me that he realized then that the only person who was going to get him out of that situation was him. Very stoic of him really. So he decided to turn things around. He ended up getting a scholarship for athletics and went to college, and then eventually law school. He had said that his greatest fear was being destitute again, so when he got out, he got into corporate law for an oil company.
He never reconnected with his brothers, or had much time for a relationship after school, so he preferred to keep a sugarbaby. I had sat there and listened through the dinners, always my hand on his, drinking it up. I wanted to be sympathetic, but it was a bit inspiring to be honest in an weird way. I guess the odd and rough circumstances were one of the reasons why he was always so intense and focused. Not that I was complaining at all. I really enjoyed his company and grew to love his particulars, especially how rough he got.
School had also started for me. I was so eager to take classes and just be in school that I had mostly overlooked what direction I wanted to take. That first semester was rough, and a learning experience in more than one way. My adviser had told me to take a wide variety of classes so that I could find out what I really enjoyed. So I maxed out my credits and took an intro to… everything. The number and variety of classes where hard, splitting my focus and taking up so much of my time I was constantly tiered. I also learned to make sure to get my work done early and be ready. Daddy had come in early one weekend and spent a few nights. I was so worked from the experience that I couldn’t study and failed a quiz because of it. In the end that probably made me a better student, but it was a hard lesson to learn.
Still, I was determined to drink it all up, and so when I talked to daddy about my classes one day he had told me to focus more on what I wanted to do when I got out than the classes I was going to take. The degree field mattered, but the specifics didn’t as much as a lot of people had told me. Still, it had been hard to focus in. I was interested in everything.
I was also learning in areas other than school. I had learned what got daddy going and how much I could handle, and while I did love those nights of hair pulling, spanking, and his hand around my throat, I could rarely handle him for more than one night in a row. Trouble was, he was insatiable. So I had learned to be good with my mouth, very good.
I remember one particularly sore morning, after having been with daddy several times the night before. I had woken up in his arms, my red hair spread over his body in the cool morning air. He was normally the first one up, sometimes leaving before the sun was even up, but his flight that morning wasn’t until almost noon. I knew he would want some attention before then but there was no way he was getting my pussy. So I had shuffled out, feeling the intense soreness inbetween my legs, and slipped under the covers.
My mouth had found his beautiful chocolate cock, soft and smelling like sex under the white, linen sheets. The moment I took all of him in tasting myself from the night before, he groaned awake and let out a satisfied sigh. He was hard almost instantly, and when he flipped the sheets off of me, I and swung my body over his, resting my breasts on his stomach and giving him a full view of my shaved pussy as I devoured his cock. Our size discrepancy was so big that we couldn’t properly 69, but that was ok; I was too sore for attention there anyway.
I had spit on his cock, stroked him up and down, and gotten him as wet as I could before plunging down. It was easier to deepthroat him this way, from this angle. He bent into my throat with less effort, and having him on his back kept him a little softer. Not that it was truly easy though, he never was as big as his cock got. I still gagged and coughed a little, making a mess of his balls as I held there. Still, he seemed to love that more than anything else, and so I took him deep and deeper until I felt him twitch and his hands kneed into my ass. I held him there as he came, shooting deep into my throat over and over until I had to pull off for air, leaving strands of spit and cum from my mouth to the tip of his cock.
I giggled and gave him a kiss before cuddling up to him, feeling tiny in his arms. I absentmindedly stroked him as we sat there, and soon felt that he was hard again in my hands.
“You’re insatiable daddy.” I teased sweetly. “How many times can you cum?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to find out really.” He replied, teasing a red curl as my grip tightened on him.
“Sounds like a challenge daddy. You can’t have my little pussy; you were too rough with it last night, but you can have my mouth. Do you want more?” I asked, leaning up to kiss him.
He smiled at me and gently–or not so gently–pulled my hair, directing me back down. I took him back into my mouth and sucked him… and sucked him, and sucked him some more. We took breaks for coffee and then I took him down my throat on the couch. We switched to the shower, and I stroked and sucked him until the water got cold. For three hours daddy used my mouth and throat, until after cumming more times than I thought he could, we had to stop so he wouldn’t miss his flight. That was probably a good thing though, my throat was sore, eyes were watery, and my stomach was a little upset from not having had breakfast.
When he was leaving he had asked me when my finals were. He wanted to take a vacation and bring me along over winter break, somewhere warm, somewhere fancy. I had asked where, but he told me to just make sure I had my passport ready and gave me a kiss. The waiting sucked, but I was so excited to be going away. I had never been out of the country before, so it didn’t really matter where. Finals couldn’t get here soon enough.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/az7d3q/becoming_a_sugar_baby_pt_3_the_first_semester