One finger, two fingers, three fingers, and then there were four were inside. Daddies thumb circled my sweet spot just as his middle finger found my g, and before I knew it, I was a hot mess, tossing my head back and forth, clawing for something, anything to grab onto. Daddy knew how to help; he put his right hand on my left shoulder, his fingers of his left still dancing inside me. My back arched, I couldn’t help it. He plunged his hand deeper. Oh, it was earth shattering, I couldn’t catch my breath but at that moment, I didn’t need to breathe. The only thing that mattered was how I felt. Whenever my pretty would tighten around his hand, the grip on my shoulder would tighten and move slowly, inch by inch towards my neck. Finally when he got his hand around my neck, my nerves were on fire. Everywhere he touched me responded with goosebumps. I was shivering from the pleasure of it all. Trying to hold off so I could cum again around his cock was proving to be damn near impossible. He was pounding into me with his fingers in knuckle deep, spreading me and filling me. I broke my resolve and squirted all over his fingers and the sheets. Faintly, I heard Daddy growl in such a primal way, that it shook me out of my daze. Just in time to feel his grip run down my body, from my neck to my hip, he clawed me. Marked me, claimed me as his. I came again as he hoisted my hips and slid into me with an experienced knowledge of just where to meet me. He slammed into me, stroking me, egging me on, and bringing me just close enough to feel the pressure build. I felt him throb; felt him swell and I knew he was going to finish. I held on to whatever I could, the edge of the pillow, the comforter that had been tossed out of the way and let go. He let go too, pumping himself as deep as he could. He held my hips in place as he emptied himself into me. When we finally came down from our own little high, I examined my markings. Four red claw marks from my collar bone all the way to my naval. No blood, no cuts, but certainly markings indeed.
I love when he marks me; they are lovely little reminders of how he shows he cares.
Sometimes, primal urges are the best.
All my happy thoughts,