Page 51 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

I center my lips back on her clit and bite down as I finger fuck both her holes.

That does it, she’s cursing like a truck stop whore as her body rolls into another orgasm that has her squirting and making the most beautiful, ungodly noises.

I don’t stop. Her pleasure is such a fucking drug. I move my finger inside her, rubbing that rough little patch on the front wall, aiming for orgasm number three, when she cries out, “Wait—Please!I can’t, Daddy, please.”

Her protest is whimpering and breathless, and defiant all at once, but I’m already adding another digit, scissoring them slow to stretch that sweet heat. The back of her knee digs into my ribs as she bucks harder, moans dissolving into a whimper when I release her clit.

“One more...” I grin against her thigh, dragging my teeth up the inside where her flesh trembles soft under my jaw. “What Daddy wants Daddy gets, remember? I’m in the middle of breakfast…”

Her laugh is half-defeated. “But Daddy, I’m hungry! My stomach’s about to eat itselfalive...” Her hips buck toward me anyway, and I reward her with a curled finger that finds the spot inside her that makes her arch off the mattress.

Another orgasm rockets through her. Her walls clench and pulse, giving into my demands one more time, a spurt of liquid dribbling into my mouth as I kiss and lick, and finally relent.

I pull my fingers from her holes and slap her ass for good measure as she writhes and pants, her arm thrown over her face. “Okay, baby. Get dressed, and we’ll go eat.”

Her breath is fast as she nods. I grab her hand and pull her up to sit, leaning down for a soft kiss before stepping back and adjusting my boner and untucking my shirt to try to cover my hard on.

She reaches under the bed, fumbling for the duffel she brought with her.

“Can I have a cinnamon roll, Daddy?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” I run my hand through my hair watching as she roots through the clothes she brought. “Wear a skirt. And that little white scrap of fabric that passes for panties. No bra either.”

***

The diner’s all greasy vinyl booths and flickering neon when we finally stumble in, the bell above the door jingling as her arm loops tight around mine. While we eat, I paid for the rig to getwashed, the oil checked and the air in all the tires checked. That means the rig is parked in one of the maintenance bays but it should be done by the time we are done eating.

I slide into a corner booth, pulling Mina in close beside me as the waitress sidles over. Mina’s cheeks go pink beneath the waitress’s speculative gaze.

“You okay, sugar?” she drawls at Mina, pencil poised as she looks me up and down.

“She’ll take pancakes and orange juice,” I say smoothly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. My free hand slips between her legs, fingers brushing against the lace of her thong. She flinches into me but doesn’t pull away. “A stack for me, too. Coffee and a cinnamon roll.”

“Sure thing.” The waitress eyes Mina a moment longer before turning and heading back to the counter. She says something to the fry cook, and they both laugh.

Mina tenses beside me, and I drag my knuckles up and down over her slit through the thong, making her shiver.

“Like I said before, baby, people are going to be jealous of what I’ve got. But they’ll never take you from me, and you don’t need to pay them any mind, you hear?”

She hesitates a moment, then nods. “Yes, Daddy. But, I kind of like when they look. It makes me--”

“Wet, I know.” I cut her off, pressing my knuckles against her hole. “I feel it. So sexy baby.”

The cinnamon roll arrives and I pull my hand up from under her skirt, pressing my knuckles to her lips as she licks them obediently, drawing a tight-lipped look from the waitress.

The pastry is dripping with a mix of white and caramel icing, and I smile with satisfaction when she bounces on the seat with a little clap of excitement. I split it in half and dip a bite into the pooling caramel, watching her eyes widen as I lift it to her mouth.

“Open up,” I command, smirking when she hesitates just long enough to make me groan. Her tongue peeks out to swipe at my thumb before biting down on the sweet morsel with a moan that goes straight to my already throbbing cock.

Goddamn it, I need to fuck her, and fast. All this holding back is done, I need to be in there deep, to coat her insides with my own sticky frosting.

The waitress pours steaming coffee into the mug in front of me with a snide look. “Do you always feed your… dates like this?”

“Not a date,” I rumble against Mina’s earlobe, lips skimming over the delicate curve before nipping, then answer. “Meet my daughter.”

The women shakes her head and walks away as I drop my hand and resume playing with the sensitive flesh beneath her skirt, sliding her thong aside to trace circles around her sensitive little bud. “You keep your hands on the table and let Daddy feed you.”

She nods. “Yes, Daddy.”