[Oral] [fingering] First “date”

*edit* oh jeez, ok, both parties involved in this story are def adults, the use of the pet name *Daddy* is just that, not incest.

I imagine us meeting. I’d like to meet you at a fountain. The air will be chilly, but I’ll be in a dress, something cute, probably black. I think you’d like me, even if you hadn’t seen me before, even if you hadn’t seen pictures of me at my most intimate, I think you would notice me. You’ll carry yourself with the quiet dignity that truly powerful men have. Not arrogant, not cocky, just self assured. I’ll be standing, looking at the water, and imagining what you’ll sound like, what it will feel like to be with you. I will be distracted, and you’ll come up behind me. I’d love for you to surprise me by grabbing me by my hips and pulling me tight, my ass nestled against you, back arching and my heart racing. You’ll put an arm across my shoulders and pull me to your chest and press your lips to my neck, and you’ll feel the tiny moan that escapes my mouth.

Custom dictates a meal or drink, and I will force myself to agree when you suggest it. I have a meal in mind, but patience. I want all the time you give me, and will be a good girl. Patience.

We’ll have a short walk to wherever you want and I’ll listen as you tell me about your day. I’ll ask questions and listen with rapt attention as you explain, giving pauses to let me ask for clarification. You won’t treat me like I’m stupid, you know I’m not, but you’ll want me to understand and not just nod along. Listening to you will remind me why you’re so attractive. Your broad chest and alluring eyes have nothing on your intellect, though they all make me wet. We’ll sit down and you’ll eat and I’ll entertain you while you dine. I’ll have a water this time. In the future, maybe a dirty martini, but not this time, I want to savor every minute of this treat, feel everything with a clear head. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know or just talk about the things I love. I think negativity has its place, but tonight, I will forget those things. They take up space around us and between us, and I don’t want anything in the way.

I’d like to have you open the car door for me. I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s a gentlemanly thing to do and I know (pray) that you won’t be a gentleman later.

I can’t wait.

When you are in the driver’s seat, what will you do first? You already have my consent, when we are together, I am yours, entirely. All of my focus will be trained on you, every orifice trained for you, every inch of my body willing for you. Not willing, that is too passive a concept, and the ache for your touch is anything but passive.

Will you start at my knee, your fingers gently, insistently pulling one toward you, parting my legs? I’d like to guide your palms ever higher, seeking the delights you’ll give me, but you’ll sternly remind me that you are the driver, that I will put my hands on my headrest, and that I will not move them until you need them.

Will you punish me for it? Will you reward me?

I am not physically restrained, but your voice promises me there are consequences and which ones I get are up to me.

Bad girls get teased.

Good girls get to cum.

I want to be a good girl. I want to be your good girl.

I wonder if you’ll be able to smell the heady fragrance of my arousal, if it fills you with yummy thoughts of perverse pleasures.

Your hand will travel up, sliding from the top of my knee to the inside, pushing my skirt up as you touch my skin. Your warm hands make me shiver as you stroke up and down my thighs, dancing your fingers in time with the music, driving me to grip my headrest, willing you to go further by spreading my legs wider in invitation. You’ll chuckle at the whimpers I make when you graze the edge of my panties, so deliciously close but purposely avoiding direct contact with my swollen lips and engorged clit. You’ll ask

“Do you want me to stop?”

Of course I don’t.

“Then ask.”

You’ll glance at me and your face is daring me to tell the truth. Not what you want to hear, but the truth.

“Will you please touch me, Daddy? Will you pull my panties to the side and press a finger into me?”

You’ll smile indulgently and your smile will let me know I’ve said the right thing. Not the words, the words themselves didn’t matter, but asking you to give me my pleasure, because you own that too. You work your hand back up my legs and lightly run the backs of your knuckles against the tiny patch of soaked material barely covering my cunt. You laugh at me again when I tense and moan as you slowly, almost idly, stroke my sensitive skin. When you’ve had your fill of teasing, you’ll crook a finger under the crotch of my panties and expose me, plump and pink and begging, weeping excitement. You slide a single finger between my lips, not into me, but parallel, the base of your finger firm against the hard bud of my clitoris, my labia cuffing your finger, the tip on your digit resting at my tight entrance.

“Please.” I’ll whisper. You’ll groan at the tone and curl the tip of your finger to dip in just a few scant millimeters, the pressure will make me clench. You would laugh at the reaction, but I think your dick will jerk in response, making it known that jokes are over. You’ll drag your finger up and back down, each time lingering at my hole, sliding a little further in. Its an awkward position, but I asked so nicely and you are in the mood to indulge.

I’ll want to use my hands. I’ll want to grab yours and take control and use you as a toy and take. But I won’t.

I’ll be your good girl. I trust you’ll reward me for that. But the maddening pace, lazy and scrumptious, will have me rolling my head back and panting. Each circuit you make will wind me higher, my nerves alive and sparking until I feel like a match poised on the strike pad, tense, kinetic energy ready to burst.

That’s where you stop. I’ll not have even noticed we parked, so focused on the sensations you incited. The glow from the dash is enough to light one side of your face, intently watching me. If I wasn’t already so wet, that look would have been enough.

I’m still holding my headrest and you’ll tell me to bring my arms down. I comply, the tension from gripping so hard makes my shoulders ache. You bring your left hand to my face, fingers cradling the top of my spine, your thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. I open my mouth to invite you in, tenderly biting the pad before sucking it into my mouth.

“Please” I ask, and you adjust your seat to give me better access. Ordinarily, I’d make jokes or small talk, but I only have one thought in my head and it doesn’t need to be said. I sit up on my knees and face you, my hands are steady as I unzip your pants and tug them down, you raising your hips to help me. And now there is only one layer between me and you.

I imagine the taste of you will be perfect.

You’re straining against the waistband of your boxers and the very tip of your head is peaking out. A drop of pre-cum reflects the dim light from the radio and I don’t need to ask, I know that is for me, and I am entitled to it. I lean over and down and cock my head to one side, I want you to see the delight on my face when I taste you for the first time. I point my tongue and lap the flavor of you from the source, savoring you.

I want to kiss you, but not your mouth. I pivot slightly so I have a better view. I’m sorry you can’t watch, but I’ll work extra hard to make up for it. I’ll push your boxers down and admire how handsome you are and then kiss you. A soft, chaste kiss, my pillowy lips against the silky skin of your crown, one hand wrapped loosely around the base of your cock to keep it at the right angle for me to worship. Now a series of them down one side of your shaft, then up the other side, sometimes just my lips, other times with tongue, until I get back to the start, where I deepen the kiss, my mouth open enough that you can feel my breath, warm and moist. Then my lips enveloping more of you, my tongue darting out to lick your urethra, then opening wide enough to slip in just your head, my lips stiff enough to catch on your ridge as I suck and touch every texture of my tongue to your hot flesh.

Do you want me to fondle your balls in one hand while I stroke you with the other, cheeks hollowed as I suck you like a delectable treat?

No, I know what you want. You’ll make a pleased sound when I cross my arms behind my back, holding my elbows.

You’ll know I’m a good girl.

I’ll service you with only my mouth. You’ll angle your cock to let me wrap my lips around you then rest your hand on the back of my head, twining your fingers into my hair to guide me to where you want me. You’ll let me start slowly, wetting you from the top down. Some cocks deserve to be spit on, yours deserves to be adoringly laved, every inch tongued and moistened to slide smoothly to the back of my mouth.

And then down my throat. You would love the look on my face, the mixture of desire and need and the frantic eyes of a woman choking as you continue to force my head down until I remember how to open my throat to you. It’s a rush, to feel you slide deeper in coupled with panic. You lift your hips to push further in, my lips at the base of your dick, your length growing more rigid with each stroke. Long, deep plunges at first, you allow me to breathe in time with your pleasure, then as your body tenses, shorter and shorter, seated deep, letting me up for air as necessary. I want to drain you and you want to fill me and we work in tandem, my eyes full of tears, eye liner running down my cheeks as you diligently fuck my face.

I’ll know you’re close by your breathing. Will you pull my dress up to smack my ass as you get ready? Will you grab a breast and squeeze a bit too hard and make my cry out? I’ll let go of my elbows and kneel on the floor so you have a better angle to see when you finish. Will you reward me by feeding me your tip as you tug yourself to orgasm? Will it be a surprise? Or will you warn me, telling me to open up just in time to lay the first rope across my lips and tongue. I will patiently wait to close my mouth until the last drop hangs from you, your spend puddled on my tongue and you tell me I’m your good cumslut and that I may swallow. I will happily, and lick my lips and greedily clean your overly sensitive skin, relishing in a job well done and a sore throat well earned.

And I will say thank you.

(Thanks for reading. I have never posted any of my writing, so maybe you could be gentle? lol)

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ji0yub/oral_fingering_first_date