CHAPTER ONE
Tamara
It’s midafternoon but I can’t help myself and I almost run to the bedroom, tearing my clothes off on the way. I’m so damned horny and I just can’t hold off any longer. I leap onto my bed and finish with my last item of clothing, my panties. I slide them off and just the way the silky cotton fabric very briefly rubs against my pussy makes me gasp.
Jesus!
I’m so turned on right now.
I feel silly, too, because I’m turned on for no other reason than one word during a text.
Jack.
That’s the word. The text is from my best friend Kellie and all it says is that her Daddy is out with Jack at the moment.
It’s enough. It’s more than enough to make thoughts of Jack fill my mind and when that happens, my body takes over. Jack has to be the sexiest human being to ever walk the face of the earth. He has deep blue eyes, so deep they’re almost black. Those eyes are set on the most handsome face imaginable, and it’s impossible for me to think about those eyes without imagining them looking down on my naked body as Jack fucks me like there’s no tomorrow.
God! Speaking of bodies, Jack’s body is incredible. I’ve seen him wearing only a bathing suit at Kellie’s house during a barbecue and pool party. He’s about as fit and trim as a man can be, muscular and so damned attractive it’s amazing I made didn’t just jump on him right then and there.
That’s exactly what I imagine as I run my hands up and down my pussy, gasping as my finger grazes my clit. I’m so sensitive, the pleasure is almost too intense and I writhe and moan, imagining Jack’s hands exploring me, touching every inch of me, taking me.
I slip a finger inside myself and cry out softly as sparks shoot up my spine. “Oh, Daddy,” I moan.
I forgot to mention that I’m a little. As in little girl. As in Daddy Dom/little girl. That means that I like relationships where I have someone who can help me be the best version of myself by helping me set goals and make plans to reach them and someone who will protect and care for me. It’s a lot like other relationships except that in D/s relationships, the roles are clearly defined and in DDlg, the roles are called Daddy and little girl.
I’ve had five Daddies so far. None of them have lasted longer than six months. Which is to say I haven’t lasted longer than six months with any of them. My first Daddy was a teacher’s aide in one of my classes in college. We lasted four months before I told him I loved him and he decided he didn’t feel the same way about me.
I had another Daddy in college and thought I loved him until I caught him cheating on me with one of my roommates.
I won’t list all the men I’ve been with but suffice it to say I’ve had very poor luck when it comes to finding a Daddy.
Jack could be my Daddy.
I gasp as I slide another finger into my pussy and begin to stroke faster. “Oh, Jack.”
Jack isn’t like the other Daddies I’ve had. Jack is mature and responsible. Jack has a home and a thriving construction business. Jack keeps his promises. That’s something Marcus, Kellie’s Daddy, says about him. Jack always keeps his promises.
If he promised to love me forever, he would keep that promise. If he promised to take care of me, he would take care of me.
I close my eyes and imagine Jack’s strong arms holding me while his strong cock thrusts into me and I moan and finger myself with abandon until I cry, “Oh, Daddy!” and cum so hard my upper body actually lifts off of the bed and I curl up into a ball, spasming as shocks run through my body.
“Oh, Daddy,” I whisper.
I lay there for a few minutes as I slowly come down from my climax. I try to imagine Jack’s arms holding me as I bask in the afterglow of our sex but I can’t mimic that feeling as easily as I can the feel of his cock inside me so as I come down physically, I come down mentally.
Why would Jack want anything to do with me? I’m nothing special. I’m a college dropout, I work part-time at an ice cream shop, I live in a dingy apartment—I don’t even have a car! I’m definitely not the type for someone like Jack.
I roll over and stretch and the movement restores enough willpower that I’m able to walk to the bathroom and clean up before changing into something comfortable and curling up on the couch with ice cream and wine so I can feel properly sorry for myself.
I complete the image of sad single woman by putting on the sappiest soap opera I can find and telling myself how awesome it is to have no friends and no Daddy because I can do whatever I want, which is apparently mixing cabernet and rocky road and watching bad daytime television.
“This is the life,” I say before flipping the channel to something far less embarrassing: a courtroom tv show.
I make it past the courtroom tv show and a game show rerun when there’s a knock at my door.
I jump. There’s no one who would be visiting me. I don’t have family or friends out here, well, except for Kellie.
Maybe it’s Kellie. I thought she was working today but maybe she’d off already.