She Said, “Call Me Daddy”

“You just need to be fucked really well,” she said, snapping me out of my reverie. I had just taken a breather after 15 minutes of complaining to my friend about my same-sex relationship problems. Mostly the sex part, or lack thereof.

I stared at her, mouth agape. I wanted to tell her that my pussy was none of her business but a) I had been complaining about the consistent lack of sex in my relationship and b) she’d definitely had my pussy more than once, since we used to date. I tried to ignore her and the unwarranted memory of the way she used to grip my throat as she fucked me from the back and demanded I called her “Daddy.” I tried not to think about how hot it was the one time I’d let her record us….

I cleared my throat and took another (large) sip of my Naughty Geisha — a fruity drink with a masked bite of vodka. “I’m sure that may be one remedy, but…that doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me right now.”

She widened her eyes in my direction and I rolled mine. I loved our outings — as friends. We hadn’t been intimate in several years, ever since she’d gone back to her ex. Their relationship hadn’t lasted, but shortly after we stopped dating, I met my current significant other, so we’d never had another opportunity.

Occasionally we’d get a little tipsy and there’d be some flirting or an innocent kiss, but nothing more. She respected our boundaries, especially since she’d placed most of them there herself, and I respected her for it.

“Sure it is,” she replied, a Cheshire cat smile stretched on her lovely mouth.

It was my turn to widen my eyes at her. “What do you mean!? What happened to boundaries?” I hissed.

She, somehow, became even more casual, leaning back against her stool and crossing her arms. “I’m tired of them. I want you again. I know I can’t have you in the traditional sense because you aren’t going to leave her, but I want to make you cum for me. You deserve that.”

I rolled my eyes at the use of the “d-word.” I loathe the word deserve.

“Fine,” she said, reading and understanding my body language. Leaning forward to cup my chin in her hand, she whispered, “If you don’t deserve it, I do. I want to fuck you until you scream my name. I want you to remember all the delicious and dirty things we’ve ever done. Do you want me to?”

I trembled beneath her gaze and my panties were soaked but I didn’t know if I could give in to this moment of weakness — if having her again would ruin me. I licked my lips and she followed the movement with her almond shaped brown eyes. My eyes met hers and I nodded slightly, once. She released me, a smirk on her lips, and I almost regretted my answer.

I excused myself and went to the restroom, feeling off-kilter and weak in more ways than one. I hung my purse up on a hook and just stood in the middle of the largest stall, trying to contain the warmth emanating from my pussy. Why was she so damn sexy? Why had she decided this today?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My 5’5" frame all curves, tits and ass. In no reality was my tummy flat, but I was well put together and everything about me screamed lush. I smoothed my hands over my 36DDs and almost reached underneath my dress to release some of my frustration, but stopped myself. Someone had just come into the bathroom and there was no way I could use my hands to cum in the time I had available before they became impatient. Sighing, I opened the door, but was immediately pushed back in.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Shh.” Her lips covered mine and her hands slid underneath my dress as she shut the door behind us. “What were you about to do in here, lovely?”

“N-n-nothing. I was about to meet you back at the bar.”

“You’re just going to lie to me?” She traced the seams of my thong and I gasped. “Mm, wet already? Is that for me?”

I lifted my chin into the air and she took the opportunity to wrap her hand around my throat lightly, the other still teasing my thong. “Baby, don’t be prideful. You know Daddy doesn’t like that. Now, are you wet for me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I bit out. I stifled a moan as she ran her finger down my soaked slit, one, two, three times, and I closed my eyes against the burst of pleasure.

“Fuck yes, you are.” She lifted her fingers to my mouth and I drew them in, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed with lust as she watched me clean her up.

“Let’s go,” she demanded, grabbing my purse from the hook and pulling me out of the restroom.

“Where?”

She didn’t answer.

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