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But I can believe that the urge to pee comes over me so bad that I can’t hold back. With my fingers still on my clit and my one exposed nipple standing proud, the hot stream comes gushing out of me. I strum my clit and moan at him. His eyes are on my pissing pussy as his hand moves to his crotch and I know I’m tempting him.
“I love being dirty for my daddy,” I say as my flow comes to a stop and I run my fingers through my slit.
Here it comes… make or break…
But he shakes his head and switches the shower off.
“No, Holly, that’s enough for now.”
Damn it. A deep, filthy part of me is so disappointed.
Daddy helps me to my feet, then strips me out of my soaking wet uniform, wrapping me up in a towel from the rack. I watch him as he wrings out my clothes and positions them on the radiator, ready to dry off for tomorrow morning, and then he wipes me down, taking extra special care of my pussy – rubbing just right.
Thanks, Daddy. Thank you.
I’m dry and warm when he strips off his own clothes and tosses them on the floor beside us. His cock is beautifully hard, and the veins I remember so well are there, so ready to give my pussy a thrill. I want it so bad as he takes my hand and leads me into his bedroom.
But no. He takes a pale blue shirt from his wardrobe and hands it to me.
“Put this on, Holly.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I say and let the towel fall.
His eyes go straight to my tits and I know he wants to throw me on the bed but it seems he’s a master at restraint.
“Shirt on, Holly,” he says and I could cry when he grabs a fresh pair of boxers and pulls them on, tucking his beautiful cock away.
I shrug his oversized shirt on and do up the buttons as he pulls on a pair of grey suit trousers and chooses a white shirt for himself.
“There now,” he says, with a smile. “Where were we? Ah yes, time to feed my girl. I have your favourite for you,” he tells me, looking so proud as he gestures me downstairs. Mood back to sweetness and light.
I remember how good my favourite is and my stomach rumbles. Daddy makes an amazing casserole.
I make up some stories about my day’s lessons while he cooks for us. He laughs along with some of my student whinging as he gets me a glass of juice, and I wonder yet again what kind of guy he is when he’s not playacting.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” he says when he serves up, and my eyes are on his as we eat our dinner.
There’s so much I’d like to ask him, but it isn’t my place, and it’s none of my business. I’m just an entertainer, and he’s just a client. That divide needs to stay there, no matter what.
He most likely has a full life outside of this fantasy, just as I do.
I have a boyfriend waiting back home for me, and a pending apartment in Belgravia. The thought gives me a pang, because I wonder what Josh is doing right now – how much he’s enjoying the daddy of his own.
I’m only glad Josh wasn’t enlisted as Scott on this proposal. I’d have hated to see Daddy turf him out like that.
“You look deep in thought, Holly,” Daddy says, and I give him my best sweet smile.
“I was just thinking how well you teach me to be a good girl,” I say, and it makes him smile back.
“I know it was a tough punishment, sweetheart, but you were a very, very good girl tonight, and you deserve a reward. I’m going to make you forget all about that idiot, Scott.”
“You mean you’re going to play those games with me? Those special games?” I ask, like an eager little slut.
“That’s right, Holly. I’ll play some games with you. Just so long as you eat up all of your casserole.”
I purposely gobble the rest of it down, so hungry for Daddy’s dick that I couldn’t give a shit how good the meal tastes or about the gravy dripping from my chin to his borrowed shirt. He laughs as he watches me.
“You’re so lovely when you’re being a good girl, Holly.”
