“Oh! Oh daddy, I’m sorry. I’ll clean up now.”
Before I could stop her she unfurled herself and hopped out of bed, padding down the hallway. I tried to force myself to stay put, to wait for her. But I wasn’t content in just imagining her. I wanted to see it. Would she lick the paddle handle? The kitchen sink was just a room over if she so wished. I got up and followed her after a few seconds of a lost internal war.
When I found her, she was kneeling on the floor by the coffee table where I’d left the paddle. She held it in both hands and licked it innocently, like a cat licking cream. She pulled back a moment and bit her lip happily at whatever she tasted like and turned the handle before sucking at the end of it like it was a lollipop. Her eyes danced with playfulness.
I throbbed with sexuality in response.
After a moment or two she held it up. “Like this, daddy?”
I took the paddle, studying the handle. There wasn’t a bit of cum left on it.
It didn’t matter. “You did very well, Muffin, but not quite done. Open your mouth.” She looked up at me from the floor and opened her mouth wide, her hands folded in her lap. I threaded my fingertips into her hair gently and held her head still, sliding the paddle handle between her lips. “Close your mouth and suck,” I whispered.
She did that and my cock throbbed. I couldn’t stop myself. She was so sweet looking up at me, her eyes a guileless image of mine. I pumped the paddle handle deeper into her mouth and her eyes widened. She didn’t stop, though. No, little Muffin wouldn’t do that. She kept sucking. I withdrew the handle to the end and fed it back into her mouth, deeper this time. She tilted her head and her nostrils flared as she inhaled the scent of the cum she sucked. It was simultaneously innocent and obscene.
She met my eyes again and held my gaze as I withdrew the handle and twisted it, thrusting it rapidly in and out of her mouth. She whimpered in pleasure softly and I inhaled sharply, my blood thrumming in pleasure.
Still, I fucked her face with the paddle handle. And I didn’t kid myself that it was anything besides that. I had fantasized about Maddie for so long and had never crossed boundaries, but now I had and it was like a drug. Every line felt easier and easier to ignore.
Still, she held my eyes. My thrusts of the handle had turned harsher until now, her eyes watered and she choked occasionally. But she didn’t fight, not a bit. She took every inch I fed to her mouth with obedient abandon. My hand had tightened in her hair. It had to hurt but she didn’t show it if it did. The only look in her eyes was fervent pleasure.
“Yes, good girl,” I purred. “This is exactly how good girls are. This makes you feel good, doesn’t it, Muffin?”
Her answer was immediate and muffled with her mouth full. “Uh huh!”
“See? Your body is so happy with how much of a good girl you are. It makes me feel good too.”
She closed her eyes, her lips curving up in a smile. I tilted her head back farther and forced the handle deeper than I had yet. She gagged but swallowed and I watched her throat work to take all of it, fascinated and horny as fuck. For a long while, I held her that way, staring down at her with paddle handle settled deep in her throat.