“Give me your hand,” she whispered. We had finished the pot of coffee, stared out the window for far too long, and moved from blankets to bathrobes and back again more times than we could count. If ever there was an excuse not to get out of bed, this snowstorm was it, and we planned on taking as much advantage of it as humanly possible. While we had spent a few weekends together, they had always been interrupted by one thing or another. I had a birthday party to go one night, and she had an afternoon date that would have ended in disaster if she hadn’t texted me when it was done and come back to my bed.
“What are you going to do with it?” I asked, letting her take it anyway.
“I want you to feel something Daddy,” she whispered. This was a new game, but I wasn’t going to complain. The second or third time we had slept together she whispered it in my ear, and I just fucked her harder, not letting myself get distracted by what it might mean. If a pretty twenty-five-year-old wanted to call me Daddy, I wasn’t going to be dumb enough to complain. And besides, when the words left her mouth, it meant I was in for something filthy. Something horrible and something delightful. When she called me Daddy, it meant that I had to throw my expectations out the window and simply ride it out until I couldn’t ride anymore. Daddy meant there were no limits at all.
“What do you want Daddy to touch, Babygirl?” I asked, letting my mind go to dark places. Without another word she put my hand on her cunt, opening her legs beneath the blanket as she nuzzled into my neck. I pushed a finger inside her; she was impossibly wet, partly from her own excitement and partially from the fact that I came inside her less than two hours ago.
“I was bad, Daddy,” she whispered. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I let my English teacher do dirty things to me.”
I was on top of her instantly, her hands pinned above her head and her legs open beneath me. One hand was still between them, feeling her skin along with my own come in the folds of her cunt, and I was somehow hard once more.
“Did he fuck you, little girl?” I asked, pushing my fingers into her.
“Yes, Daddy,” she moaned. “I know I’m not supposed to, but he told me I had to. He said if I wanted a good grade, I had to let him put it inside me.”
“You know this is Daddy’s, don’t you?” I asked, pushing my fingers into her mouth, wet with both our fluids. “And you know that Daddy doesn’t like you sharing it, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she moaned as I pressed again her, my hard cock once against forcing its way between the lips of her cunt.
“You’ve been a very bad little girl,” I said before thrusting into her. “And Daddy’s going to fuck you now to make up for it. To remind you that you’re mine and nobody else’s. To remind you that this little cunt is all mine.”
“Oh fuck,” she moaned as we started to move faster and faster. I pinned her arms tighter, one hand going to her throat as I slammed into her, and for a second there was real anger in my chest. For the briefest moment, I thought the come inside her was someone else’s, and I knew in my heart that my little girl had been bad and needed to be punished.
We fucked and fucked, my open hand slapping her face as I slammed into her, and she didn’t once stop moaning. When I put my hand back on her throat she started to come, her whole body shaking as she begged me to forgive her, and I wasn’t far behind. She clenched around me as I filled her for the second time, coming in this woman’s cunt whom I had just met a month before. In this woman’s cunt who was pretending to be a little girl, getting fucked by her Daddy. Getting fucked by her father for getting fucked by her high school teacher. Getting fucked by a man she barely knew, caught up in a game without an end, and with rules that changed as quickly as the direction of the snow swirling outside the window.
“Fuck, why are you so good to me,” she whispered.
“How is that good? I just pretended you were my little girl as I fucked you for cheating on me. What’s good about that?”
“Are you feeling bad about it?” she asked, looking at me with a serious expression.
“God no,” I said, rolling over next to her. “I’m just saying it wasn’t a good thing. I mean, it was fun and it was hot, but I wouldn’t say good.
“All I know is that if you fuck me like that, everything is good. I don’t care how fucking creepy it is. Seriously, that doesn’t matter. It’s fucking hot, and I don’t care. Just keep doing that. Do that and we’ll be fine.”
We rolled over to one side and lay there for a long time. I tried not to think too much, and I was mostly successful. I stared out the window watching the swirling eddies of snow as they piled up on the cast iron of the fire escape and slipped between the slats on the ladder. If there was a storm outside, there was something else going on in the apartment. Something warmer, but no less fierce. It was strong and it was powerful. It was full of just as much excitement and the same amount of worry and concern. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if it would last just as long too. I wondered, for the briefest of moments, if the storm inside would be as short and fleeting as the one outside.