or stuff it full of his cock, one or the other, but instead he kept pulling this Daddy shit on me. Not even regular Daddy shit, the kind you saw in porn, but this… this other kind.
“Fu...udge,” I whispered, reaching down to open my fly like I was on some kind of autopilot, my hands disconnected from my brain and only able to do what Daddy told me to. I pushed my pants down to my thighs, my cock filling so fast as Andy watched me do it that it would have been embarrassing if I wasn’t already in a whole different universe of humiliation for even thinking I was going to lay over his lap and take what he gave me like some kind of naughty little boy.
Which was why I couldn’t think about it.
Didn’t want to.
Just wanted to ignore all of the bullshit still boiling around inside me, about my mother and Paolo and having fucked up Andy’s instructions earlier and fucking up my banking and just, just… fuck. All of it. I didn’t want to think about anything anymore, not right now, I just wanted to do what he told me to and have him mean what he’d just said.
I wanted it to be real.
I shuffled forward and let him tug me down over his lap.
“That’s it,” Andy said, pulling me forward, positioning me how he wanted me. “I know you had to get all that out, but it’s so much easier just to be good, isn’t it, baby?”
“No,” I lied, feeling fifty shades of shaken the fuck up. That dinner he’d made me—and who the fuck did that for a booty call?—was still on the table behind him, and with him on this chair like some kind of actual Daddy, it was even more fucking awkward then when he’d spanked me on his bed. There was no fucking support for my chest, my head hanging down until all the blood rushed into it, legs fucking flailing, and I couldn’t… couldn’t…
“Andy,” I said, shoving against his leg and arching my back as I tried to turn over, get up, quit this fucking bullshit and get the fuck out of his addictive orbit before I fell for him even harder. “I can’t—”
“Shhhhh,” he cut in smoothly, his voice like some kind of wonder drug that paralyzed me. “Just settle, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
His arm came around me and held me steady, and fuck if the noise in my head didn’t quiet right down even as his firm hold made my cock get harder. I wasn’t turned on, though, I was fucking embarrassed, letting him see me at my fucking worst, not just this shit about being over his knee, but fucking unloading on him the way I had when I got here. Throwing his fucking fork like I was having some kind of actual tantrum.
Fucking fuck. There was no way he could actually want me for anything more than a pity fuck at this point, and the worst part was that I was so far gone on the guy that I’d even take it.
But afterwards, when he finally cut me loose, was going to seriously suck.
“Shhhhh,” he said again, smoothing his hand over my ass. “You’re okay.”
I stared down at the interlocking pattern of his kitchen floor, swallowing hard. “Sure you want to do this here? I’m going to get cum all over your kitchen floor, and that shit can’t be sanitary.”
He smacked my ass, making me jerk like I’d been electrocuted as the hot sting hit me with a soothing familiarity that should not feel as good as it did.
“Language,” he said, which settled me down even further, for some fucked up reason. “You’ve had your snit, but now it’s over.”
I almost laughed. My snit? Except the blood was pounding too loudly in my head and I was pretty sure if I tried to laugh I might do something even more humiliating, like actually cry, and this whole thing was definitely, one hundred percent, fully and completely fucked the fuck up... especially since my cock was now throbbing with every beat of my heart, leaking all over his floor, just like I’d warned him.
“Seriously, dude,” I said, my voice all cracked and stupid-sounding. “I’m already making a mess. If you're so hot to spank me, do it on your bed again. Better to wash your sheets than have it near the food, right? Remember how hard I fucking came last time?”
Another smack, and I fucking moaned.
“No more