He’d seen my Boobday picture just before he called me. My sleep-filled voice didn’t deter him. Within a few moments of our call, I could hear the growl in his voice. My foggy brain doesn’t remember the words, but I can still hear his growl in his mind.
At his words, my hand reached down to cup my mound. Pure reflex. He made me want and need. My hips thrust forward gently as I listened to him. I wanted him so bad. I pulled my hand away worried I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.
“Touch that pussy, girl.”
I sank my fingers into my pussy and gasped at the juicy wetness beneath my fingertips. My lips were swollen and lusciously soft. My hand glided across my slick skin. Twirling and circling, my clit hardened within seconds. My hips bucked wildly; my legs kicked out.
I began to beg. “P-p-please, please, oh God, please Daddy can I cum?!”
A dark chuckle filled my ears, followed by, “Cum for me, babygirl.”
My shrieks were muffled but no less riotous. I squirted and gushed, my juices flowing down my slit and my ass.
“I’m not done with you yet, girl. Get a finger in my cunt – now!”
I kicked frantically to pull my pants down, the covers tangling in my legs. I spread my legs as wide as possible and shoved my soaked pajama bottoms under my ass in a futile attempt to protect the sheets. My fingers slid into the slippery mess between my legs.
He growled in pleasure at the sound of my vigorous, frantic fucking. The painful throb and pressure caused me to writhe on the bed, sobbing into my pillow. I begged to cum as my hand fell away, exhausted from my exuberant thrusts. He growled his agreement.
As I moved my hand to slip my fingers deep inside again, my soaked fingers grazed my clit, and I exploded a second time. Juices splashed everywhere. My arm was soaked to the elbow, the bed was drenched. I trembled and giggled.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
His growl never dissipated as we spoke. My body hummed and throbbed with leftover need. I tried to describe the feeling of my lips and clit in my hand after so long, but words escaped me. Finally, in a desperate attempt to help him understand, I told him, “My body was like an over-ripe peach, the juices were begging for release.”