I know I’m under your skin. Your jokes have gotten bad, and you seem sad. But maybe I’m as crazy as they say. I like being crazy for you. It’s funny because we met on Hinge, but we’re both unhinged. Haha. That’s funny. Laugh, daddy. Please. I like texting you from other people’s phones. I love lightly stalking you through social media burner accounts. I love talking to you when you’re not there like I’ve known you for years. But we’ve only fucked twice. Like I said the other day. I don’t even know you at all. And maybe I prefer it that way.
I texted you from a friend’s number on Friday. I was across the street from you at a bar, eating fries and having a mocktail. My friend understands. She called you my crazy match. But told me my writing was better than yours. That’s a good friend. She’s not wrong. As I walked by the venue, you were playing in, I could hear you from the street as I walked from my car to the bar. You couldn’t see me in my tight black ribbed dress, my Versace boots, my denim western jacket. Couldn’t see how hot I made myself look for you just in case. I couldn’t see you either. But I wanted you inside me. If you had seen me, you would’ve wanted that, too. You didn’t respond to the text I sent through my friend’s phone. The one saying I think you’re a chode, but I still wanted you to come outside and fuck me in my car. I had just gotten waxed. So I went home.
I went home and another man came over to cum inside me. One who thinks I’m just as crazy as you think I am. Only thing is, he actually is the crazy one. Or maybe we both are. It’s anybody’s guess at this point. But he has the eyes of a maniac, and he talked my head off afterwards about why he thinks I’m crazy. The irony. I told him I wouldn’t write about him, but I don’t give a shit because he’ll never fuck me again. Don’t want him to. He didn’t fuck me as good as you would’ve fucked me. He held my hands behind my back as he fucked me from behind so hard, my bed banged against my wall, making marks on the white paint. He came too quickly. You wouldn’t have. But I told him I liked that. And sometimes I do. Honestly. I like making men so excited with my wet. ass. pussy. that they can’t help themselves but to cum faster than they’d like to. But you would’ve ruined me first. You wouldn’t be able to resist it. He barely licked my pussy, but I imagined it was you. You haven’t tasted me yet. I gagged on his cock, but I imagined it was you. I haven’t tasted you yet. Your cock is bigger, and I would’ve choked on it harder. I know it. I want it. I would’ve gotten wetter. He put his hands on my neck, but I wanted yours. I already have a thing about being choked. I don’t like it unless it’s the right person. It scares me, and I only want certain people to scare me. He’ll do, but I want you to choke me harder, daddy.
I haven’t spoken to you in days. Not since the text from my friend’s phone. If you’re counting it. I berated you for being as asshole before that. For making fun of me for your fans. You deleted everything. But I want you to punish me for berating you. Still want you to punish me, daddy. I’m still playing, why aren’t you? Play with me, daddy. Please.
You should’ve come over after he left. Should’ve taken me into my shower and cleaned me off, so I would be ready to be ruined by you. Taking your fingers and putting them inside my pussy in the shower, cleaning me from the inside out. Telling me how bad, bad, bad I am for fucking another man when I should’ve been fucking you. You were busy, and I was bothering you. Like usual. I should’ve waited patiently like a good girl instead of a dirty little whore. You pull my long, wet hair back hard, drowning me under the shower head for a moment. You let me have some air before you stick your tongue down my throat as you finger my asshole. You know I’m an anal virgin, and you want to remind me you still own my ass as I wince in pain. The other man didn’t take that. It’ll be yours when I’m ready. When you’re ready. When you want me, daddy. Because I’m trying so hard to be your good girl.
You dry me off, sternly, making eye contact with me. You’re not happy. I really messed up this time. You’re too rough when you dry me off, and you’re going to leave a bruise or a burn. In front of the tub, you tell me to lean over the side. I kneel onto the bath mat, my tits against the side of the tub. I hear you get out the back scrubber from the bathroom cabinet. I let out a scream. I wasn’t ready. But I know I deserve it. You punish my ass with the back of the back scrubber. Shampoo bottles fall off the side of the tub, you’re hitting me so hard. The wood is giving me splinters, and you don’t care because the red marks on my ass make your cock so fucking hard. You’re fucking crazy. It’s sick that this shit gets you off. And I like it. I’m sick for you. And I want to swallow your fucking cum like it’s the medicine that I need, so I donkey kick you. Right in the shin, and you’re down on the ground, shouting at me. Your face is red and that makes my pussy so fucking wet. I like making daddy angry. You grab my hair and shove my face down onto your cock. Just the way God intended. Just the way I wanted. I choke and gag and repent on your cock, my wet hair curling in the grip of your hand.
I don’t even register that you’re moving me before my back hits the bathroom tile hard. That’s going to leave a mark. Another mark that turns you the fuck on. My head bangs against the bathroom cabinet as you fuck me hard. You feel so good, but my head fucking hurts, and it makes me mad. I kick at you, and you pull me up off the floor, grab my neck. Bend me over the bathroom counter. Your balls pound against my clit as you fucking rail me. I feel your cock in my heart. It makes it skip a beat. Fuck, you’re so deep. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don’t even need to touch my clit. I don’t need anything else, but you, before I’m squirting all over your cock. All over you. You throw me back down onto the bathroom floor and cum all over my face, my wet hair, my naked body. You cleaned me off to make me dirty. Make me yours. “That’s a fucking good girl then,” you say throwing a towel at me and leaving my apartment. I’m not sorry I made you mad. But here please take the watch the other man left behind as a parting gift. You won.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ob7mrs/still_want_you_to_punish_me_daddy_mfbdsmcnc