I don’t know why I’m nervous. Someone like me doesn’t have the right to be nervous, especially since tonight I’ll be doing something I’ve done hundreds of times before.
My boyfriend isn’t normally the type I go for; he’s quiet, the type that thinks too much. He doesn’t say what’s on his mind too often and when he does, he usually tries to play it off as a joke. That being said, he does all the right things that a boyfriend ought to do. He’s supportive, and kind, and sweet. In fact, I didn’t think I could be as happy or as vulnerable with a man as I become when I’m with him.
It’s because he’s so nice that I’m pulling out all the stops tonight. I cleaned my apartment and put fresh sheets on the bed. I even cooked dinner and realized – perhaps a few years too late – that I should have paid attention to what my mother had been doing in the kitchen when I was a little girl.
Naturally my boyfriend makes all the right decisions. He didn’t mind that the chicken was a little bloody and there was a pinch too much salt in the rice. As far as he’s concerned, dinner was delicious and I can’t help but feel loved, just like he always tries to make me feel.
I might resolve to get better at cooking but for the rest of the night I want to reward him by doing the only things I’ve ever been good at. It’s why I’m straddling his hips right now after having poured him a drink, all while he tries his best to act like he’d rather watch whatever silly movie we have playing on Netflix.
“Stop it,” he says. “I told you I’m tired.”
“You’re always tirrreed,” I whine. “I wanna have sex tonight.” In addition to my tone of voice, I make sure to put on a pout.
My boyfriend gives me a look and I shy away a little, even as my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt. Underneath lies his bare chest and I trace over the thin, sparse hairs while I try my best to not-so-subtly shift my weight so that I can put pressure on his crotch.
“Babe,” he says.
“No!” I put my finger against the tip of his nose and furrow my brow fiercely. “I told you I want to have sex tonight,” I grit my teeth for emphasis, “so get your dick in gear, old man, or else…”
“Or else what?”
“…Or else…I’ll get mad.”
“Oh?” My boyfriend smiles at me and kisses me on the tip of my finger. Even if I’m only pretending, him not taking my threat seriously is still a little annoying. “And what’ll happen if you get mad?”
“I’ll beat you up,” I say sourly.
“All five-foot-nothing of you?” He laughs and leans forward to kiss my neck. I immediately forget my growing frustration as his lips brush against the sensitive bit of skin just under my earlobe and I just melt into him.
“I can beat you up if I wanted,” I say softly, pouting again. I move to kiss him but he pulls away, once again sparking my frustration. “Come on,” I groan, “you’re no fun, old man.”
“Don’t call me that,” my boyfriend snaps. “I’m only five years older than you are.”
“Yeah,” I tease, “and you act like you’re an old man!”
He rolls his eyes and tries to divert his attention back to the television screen, eliciting a death glare that lets him know I’m not letting the issue drop. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know,” I say, slapping his chest, “maybe stop being a lazy old man and actually fuck your girlfriend!”
“Don’t call me that again.”
“I can call you whatever I want.”
“Do it, then,” he says threateningly. “Go ahead and see what happens.”
“Hmph,” I grumble. “Stupid old ma – “
The words barely leave my mouth when I jerk upwards against his chest. His hand smacking my ass makes me jump and my heart races, not from the pain but from the sound and the sudden shift in his attitude. I gasp as I press my hands meekly on his chest and he knows my façade has fallen away completely. “D-daddy,” I gasp, feeling my insides clench as the crotch of my panties go from damp to soaking wet to in seconds. “Daddy, please, I want to fuck.”
“What did I tell you about talking like that?”
Daddy glares at me and I recoil, feeling myself shrink before him. “Talking like what, daddy?”
“Using big girl words. Are you a big girl all of a sudden?”
“N-no, daddy,” I whimper. “I’m still your small thing.”
“Get over my lap,” he barks at me. I can tell from his tone of voice that he’s seething. “I think you need a spanking.”
“Daddy, no!” I whimper, my voice trembling. “Not spanks!”
He grabs me by the back of my neck and in an instant, I’m already forced into where wants me. I don’t make it easy for him, being defiant every step of the way until he has me in position with my butt in the air – a display that makes it difficult to believe I don’t want to be spanked.
The room fills with the sound of his firm palm as it makes contact with my backside. My shorts had ridden up while I was straddling him so now the seat of my ass is exposed and prime for a reddening. I whimper, cry out, and moan as he peppers my rear end. Each time he disciplines me, I feel myself clench and grow wetter, tempting me to arch my back and present myself for more of his sweet medicine. Each spank is firmer and bites deeper into my skin. The more he abuses me, the more he gets into it and after only a dozen smacks, I’m almost at my limit with my eyes tearing up, even as I’m practically flooding from between my legs. The television is muted and forgotten though so, naturally, I’m the winner here.
“Daddy,” I groan, forcibly conceding when my butt can’t possibly take another blow.
Daddy stops his hand mid-swing and rests it on the small of my back. “What is it, princess?” he asks.
“Daddy, I’ve learned my lesson now.”
He grunts and moves his hand down over my rump. The skin is sensitive and has a bit of raised heat to it that radiates off the angry, red handprints he’s left all over my backside. He traces his fingers over the lining of my shorts before grabbing me between the legs. I gasp and push back into his fingers as he squeezes my crotch and makes my insides clench. “You’ve learned your lesson?”
“Y-yes, daddy,” I moan.
“Then what’s this?”
“My princess parts, daddy.”
“Why is it wet?”
“Because I want it, daddy,” I admit.
Daddy squeezes me hard – painfully hard – so that my hips buck involuntarily against his hand. “If I say it you’ll spank me,” I whine.
“Not if you say the right words,” he reminds me.
“…y-your toy, daddy,” I say, finally.
“You want daddy’s toy, princess?”
He softens his grip on my sex and I feel my entire body relax. “Yes,” I whimper, “I want daddy’s toy.”
“What do you want to do with it?”
I whine and feel my cheeks sting with shame and embarrassment. “Daddy…”
“Yes, princess?”
“You’re being so mean!”
“I just want to know what a small princess like you could possibly want with daddy’s toy!”
“I want to…play with it!”
“That doesn’t sound right,” daddy teases, “I don’t think a little princess knows how to play with her daddy’s toy.”
“I know how…I can be big sometimes…”
Daddy leans in and, for a second, I feel like he is about to smack my ass again. I hesitate but I also kind of want him to. “You want to do big girl things?”
“Daddy,” I whine, “you know I do.”
####
Being moved to the bedroom is my favorite part of seducing daddy. He’s big, and strong, and I feel so safe in his arms when carries me all the way there. He’s also gentle and, when he undresses me before laying my head on the pillow, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud.
His touch is light. He caresses my curves and my imperfections alike. I never thought I’d want to hide my nakedness in front of a man again but every time he lavishes his kisses upon me, I feel like covering myself and, every time, he refuses to let me.
The kisses come in waves; first he assaults my lips while he gets into position. He smothers me and dominates me physically. I know I’m his. I know he wants to love me and protect me, even as his savage meat grows against my midriff and presses firmly into my belly. He’s long and thick and I tremble as he moves his lips down my chest. As his cock drags against my skin, I feel a trail of warm, sticky precum smearing against me. “Daddy,” I moan. I want him inside me, and I know he wants to be inside me, but he’s going to make me wait. He always makes me wait.
His hands grab my knees so he can force my thighs apart. He pushes upward and outward, pinning my legs painfully while I cover my face with my hands. His kisses are gentle again, even as he holds my trembling legs apart to keep my sex exposed. I’m ashamed, especially when I feel him dote upon the thick scars that line the inside of my thighs. Still, that shame is quickly forgotten when I feel his tongue tracing along my slit.
He’s so good at giving head and I let him know by the way my voice erupts from my throat when he finally gets to my clit. The pleasure builds, mounting until it’s too much for me to handle and I want to pull away. At least, I want to close my legs to stop him from pushing me over the edge but he won’t let me. He’s too strong and too intent on sucking on my stiff clit to let me protect myself. When I finally build up the courage to look down at him, I can see that he has his face buried in my sex. He enjoys doing this to me – he knows he’s driving me crazy – and the way he holds me by the back of the knees lets me know he won’t let me deny him his fun.
By the time he’s done sucking on my clit, I’ve probably left a small puddle in the sheets. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind there’s some slight annoyance over this bedspread having been fresh and clean but that all washes away when I feel his cockhead pierce my body.
His thickness is almost too much to handle. Almost. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t a filthy slut for a man with a hefty prick. It’s heavy, and masculine, and he knows to work his tip in slowly right before shoving the entire length into my hungry hole with a single thrust.
“Oh, fuck, daddy,” I whimper as I feel his manhood being buried inside me.
My walls convulse and wrap around his meat. He’s taught me many times how I clench and relax in time with his thrusts but when I’m this turned on and submissive all of those lessons are quickly forgotten. Instead, I wrap my arms and legs around him and let him stab away between my legs. Each time his prick slides in and out of me, I can feel every bump and ridge and texture of his skin and the bulging veins that wrap around his perfect cock. My entrance burns as I stretch around him and I can already hear my wetness being churned into a thick, foamy froth as my girl-cum slathers around his rod.
I bury my face in his shoulder and cling to him. I sink my fingertips into his shoulder blades and coo into his ear, telling him all the things I know he wants to hear. I can feel his body grow hot and slick with sweat. Each time he gyrates his hips between my legs I feel a deep, sweet pain in my belly. It only grows as he continuously beats up my insides and I know it’ll only be sated when he shoots his load and plasters my cervix with his babies.
“Daddy,” I moan softly. I hold onto his face and kiss his lips deeply. I can tell from the focused look in his eyes that he’s been holding back for a while now. “Daddy, I want you to cum. Cum inside me.”
“Are you close?” he asks.
“Daddy, please…”
“Baby,” he says. He kisses my shoulder and then my neck, eventually moving to my lips where we engage in a long, loving, very passionate embrace that ends with him looking at me sternly.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask.
“I want you to cum with me,” daddy says, “like you did last time.”
“I don’t think that’ll happen tonight.”
“I know it will,” he says, kissing my shoulder again. “Do you want to get on your knees? I know it’s easier for you to cum like that.”
I look up at him for several moments. I can tell that he’s earnest and just wants me to enjoy our lovemaking. I look down to where our bodies are joined together and I can feel his erection as it throbs inside me. “Okay,” I say meekly. “Okay, we can try.”
The feeling of him pulling out of me makes me groan and he helps me get on my hands and knees. My heart races and I swallow hard as he grabs my hips and mounts me from behind, sliding his fat cock in my hungry cunt yet again.
I heard him groan as he filled my insides and, as usual, I felt grateful that he only did this in the dead of night. The darkness would prevent him from seeing how ashamed and disgusted I was, but it wasn’t as though he cared. Everything about him was selfish and greedy and tonight would be no different.
I cried out in pain as his cock tore into me and he abruptly shoved my face into the pillows where I bit down hard to stop myself from screaming. He was bigger, stronger, and I felt like nothing underneath the weight of his perverted lust.
His hips slapped against my ass with each and every thrust. It was as though he took pleasure in making me feel every movement he made, and I felt it deeply. Every time our bodies came into contact, every inch of me shook and trembled with absolute revulsion.
He wasn’t gentle. He never was. Even his fingers holding my backside steady in the air was enough to leave deep bruises that wouldn’t fade for days. I was sure that he enjoyed that as well.
The movement of his hips was shallow, but savage, and his cock pressed deep inside me to unwind tightly coiled flesh that screamed in protest at being forced apart. My fingers grabbed the sheets and I pulled them from the corners of the mattress in a futile attempt to console myself. His heavy palm struck my backside to punish me for having dared move without his permission. Once again, I assume my still, submissive demeanor. If I let him have his way, this would be over sooner.
“You’re feeling it tonight, you slut,” he said. It took all I had not to cry out in pain as he gripped the hair at the base of my skull and lifted me against his chest. His short, fat fingers wrapped around my neck and he turned my face into his mouth so he could kiss me.
I kept my lips sealed tight as he licked along them and smeared his whiskeyed spit across my mouth and chin. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath as he searched for any semblance of intimacy in the act. I would cry but I refused to give him the satisfaction of getting that sort of reaction from me. Eventually, when he was tired of playing at being a lover, he forced me down once more.
The rest of the act passed in a haze of brutal sex and the sound of our bodies slapping together as he rammed me from behind. His prick was oddly shaped and filled me up in the most unfortunate way. From this angle – with his hips bearing down on me from above, and his cock being driven against my front wall – each thrust caused his cockhead to grind against my g-spot.
I squirmed and bit my lips hard. At the same time, I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hand as I tried to deny myself the pleasure by overwhelming it with pain. Despite my best efforts, however, I came hard just as I felt his warmth spurt out and pool against the entrance to my womb.
I laid on my stomach, pathetic and defeated, as he drained his balls inside me. He pulled out once he was done and some part of me hoped that he could feel regret for what he had forced me to do. I felt his hands as they moved over my body again. He searched, tracing his fingers over every inch of my smooth skin, desperate to find any form of validation for what he had done to me.
“Why are you crying?” daddy asks, “you enjoyed cumming with me, didn’t you?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cziri6/new_lover_same_as_the_old_lover_mf_ddlg_spanking