Baby Girl Needs Attention

James and I were finally waving goodbye to our last guest. We'd had everyone over for dinner and while is was nice seeing most of them I was ready to be done. We'd only just shut the door when I was suddenly pressed against it, back to the door.

"Do you have something you want to say, brat?" He says, sliding his leg between mine, forcing my thighs apart with his. I can feel my heart racing but I can't look away from his eyes.

When I don't respond, I feel his hands move, one to hold my throat and the other gripping my thigh, lifting it slightly to wedge his thigh closer to my core, but still not quite close enough through my thick thighs.

"You come out from getting ready in this skirt," he groans pushing the material up my thigh. "The skirt you've never worn out of the house because we've never made it that far," he presses lightly on my throat and I can't stop the whimper from escaping. "And then you wear this sweater, and to my surprise, the hickey I swore I left there this morning has disappeared!" He fake gasped, pulsing his hand around my throat and leisurely caressing my leg.

With the sweater's wide neck, it should expose the mark, but I'd covered it with make-up.

"Now I know you wore this outfit for me, but I'm getting mixed messages here, and I'm going to need you to spell it out for me." I try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn't waver.

"I just wanted your attention," I say, and I loath the quiver in my voice. I don't know why I feel so jittery, so pent up as if we hadn't fucked less than 24 hours ago. But I'm antsy and I finally move my hands to grab his shirt for something to hold on to. I try to break eye contact but he holds my chin to force me to look back at him.

"And?" He asks. Fuck I can't do this right now.

I'm trying to push him away and twist out of his grasp and it's not working. Instead, he's pressing more of his weight on me to pin me to the door. "It's nothing," I say but it's not at all convincing and I know I'm stuck. I didn't want to have this discussion like this, I wanted to have it like mature adults where I could be cool and controlled and chose my words carefully.

He'd been so calm all night I thought I'd have time to talk to him before before we got to this part. Time to explain myself. Apparently he'd been better at hiding his feelings than I realized. If I'd known he was this worked up I would have.... I don't know, done something different but I can't think about that right now.

He finally gets me to make eye contact with him again and my resistance is gone. I hold out only a few moments longer before it spills from me. "It's your friend Sophie. I don't like the way she looks at you. Or always agrees with you, or always has to ask 'what does James think about that?' anytime I mention a life change. I get she's your friend but just tonight I wanted your attention. I wanted her to see you wanting me." It fell like word vomit from my mouth and felt even worse. I closed my eyes and begged for mercy from whatever his response was about to be.

"Are you jealous, kitten?" My eyes whip open and see his stupid smirk and I'm suddenly furious, struggling against him.

"I'm not jealous of her you asshole, let me go!" I'm glad we're in a house and not an apartment, so I'm a little less careful of my volume for the moment. "She is so fucking dismissive of me but god is she obsessed with you! I just wanted her know that by her own value system I'd already fucking won."

His thigh finally meets my core and he presses into me and he groans with my gasp. "It's your victory lap." His thumb comes up to caress my lips and he's leaning his forehead against mine. "I like when you get a little possessive." He lifts his knee even higher and I'm shamelessly grinding on it now, whining and trying to catch my breath all at once, but with him leaning into me it's hard.

And I'm very aware of the bulge he's pressing into my own thigh now.

"And I'd bet top dollar you've got something special for me to unwrap underneath that outfit."

He's absolutely right. Because Rule #7 of my made-up rules for being a brat was that 'a cute brat gets lighter sentencing.'

I nod in response to his unasked question, and he groans closing his eyes for a few seconds. I'm lightly grinding myself against his thigh when he finally kisses me, rough in just the right way to have me melting. His hand is in my hair and slowly scratching and it's too late by the time I realize what he's doing.

All of my pent up energy feels calmer than before, but I know that my resistance is low now. It feels suspicious but I can't find the energy to care right now.

"Go into the bedroom, sweet girl, and clean off the make-up covering my mark. Then sit on the bed. Understand?"

"Yes, daddy." And I may be in trouble but it's the absolute best kind.

-------

It takes only a few minutes to do what I'm asked. I'm tempted to take off the sweater to present to him, but he'd mentioned unwrapping and as excited as I was for him to see my new set I wanted to be good for him.

I was just sitting down when he walked in and I felt my heart rate pick up again. He was smiling and I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks. I loved when he watched me like this.

"Stand up baby girl."

Doing as he says, I feel his arms wrap around my waist and slid up underneath, feeling the bare skin of my back. He's mentioned before it's his favorite cuddle sweater because he can fit his arms underneath too.

He was right, I'd planned every piece of this outfit with him in mind. Everything was subtle enough that no one would notice anything odd, but he would know.

And Sophie noticed. I even saw one of the other friends make a face when Sophie tried to say that James was acting odd tonight.

And by odd she meant more attentive and helpful during hosting duties and slightly more handsy than normal, but by a very minimal amount I thought.

We just held each other in a hug for a bit and I didn't realize how much I needed that. I could feel everything in me relax a bit more. He trailed kisses down my neck to where the hickey was now visible again. Licking and kissing the sensitive skin until I gripped the back of his head for an anchor.

"Next time, you wear my mark," he says. "You're not the only one who likes to do victory laps, kitten." When his lips meet mine I moan and I'm putty in his hands. Too soon for my liking he pulls back.

Slowly, he pulls my sweater up and sees the bra, one cup size too small and my breasts spilling from the top of the lace that has nothing separating lace from nipple and is entirely see-through. The sweater hid everything well and I feel proud of having surprised him.

His mouth is working slowly as he takes it in and the tent in his jeans adds to my sense of accomplishment. "Tell me the panties match, baby girl." It's not quite a growl but I feel it and barely resist letting out a moan.

"The panties match, Daddy." He smirks before pushing me down on the bed and flipping me onto my stomach. He flips up the skirt and sees cheeky briefs with lace in the same pattern as the bra, a dark navy blue against my light skin making a satisfying contrast.

I also know this style makes my fat ass look great. And by Daddy's hands on my thighs and butt I'd say he agrees.

"Seems like my sweet girl needed some attention. So I think I'll give her some." Slap. He spanked my check and I let out a small squeak. "Next time, you ask nicely when you want my attention, do you understand?" He slaps the other cheek and I groan into the sheets.

"Yes, Daddy." He slaps each cheek once more before sliding his fingers down my crack and straight towards my very wet core.

"My slutty little girl wasn't satisfied last night I guess. Did I not fill you enough? You had to make a scene just to get my cock in you again." I'm trying to stay still but he's pressing almost enough on my clit and I can feel the tension in my limbs trying to stay put.

"Don't worry baby, daddy's going to take care of you." His hands roam my ass, playing with the lace panties. "I think we need to try a different approach. I've let you get away with being impatient and greedy. But tonight you're only going to get one orgasm. And I'm going to take my fucking time." He slaps both of my cheeks at the same time and chuckles.

I'm still in my slightly floaty headspace, but I know what's happening now. He's right, I'm greedy. I usually get 2-3 orgasms at a time, at least one of them on Daddy's tongue. But he's lulled me into compliance with all the things he knows calms me, and softens me to him. The head scratches, the long hug, the soft caress of my thigh while I was pressed between him and the door. All of this after a busy evening with people which already wears me out. I'm putty for him to use as he wants.

He's been thinking about this. I make a note to ask him when he started working out this plan but I'm distracted by the slow drag of my lace panties being dragged down my legs.

In my relaxed state, I know I don't have the bandwidth to do much besides lay here and take it. As wet as I already am, Daddy seems to have every intention of drawing this out. I know in my head that long build-ups lead to great orgasms, but I've never been particularly patient, especially with my own pleasure.

He leaves the bra on for the moment but I feel him start to massage my back, moving up and down and lower, rubbing my thighs but deliberately never touching me where I need it the most.

It's the most sensual torture I've experienced.

Finally, he starts to massage my lower lips, alternating between rubbing the folds and pressing right into my swollen clit. I'm whimpering into bedding and clinging to the blankets. The massage relaxed my muscles and even as desperate as I am for more I can't bring myself to move.

His fingers leave my pussy and after some fabric rustling I feel Daddy spreading my legs and pushing his face into my core.

Life everything else tonight, he takes his time. There's no intention behind his movements. They're lazy and gentle, but I can't find the energy to try and move my hips to get more.

"Daddy, please," I beg, but even I don't know what I'm begging for. Instead of a response he just continues his leisurely tasting of my body. His hands are playing with my butt, pushing and pulling and massaging. It's all so tender and for reasons I can't explain my eyes burn with tears. So I close them and take my punishment like a good girl. And this is punishment. I have now doubt I'll get my orgasm eventually but the waiting is torture.

I have the fleeting urge to throw a bit of a tantrum at how well Daddy seems to know me, but his tongue pressing and releasing in a sporadic pattern chases that thought away quickly enough. My hips move slightly and he lets me, pressing his tongue on my clit longer each time, and then sucking it into his mouth.

I'm starting to feel the pressure build but as soon as my hips start moving more Daddy pulls back and strokes me gently again, letting the pressure calm.

"We're just getting started sweetheart. Can't have you cumming too soon." With that, he stands up and starts to try and roll me onto my back but I don't want to be exposed like that. I'm already feeling too much and if he sees me he's going to know.

But it's futile and once he finally gets me on my back, he's crawling over me and kissing me like he has all the time in the world to memorize every millimeter of my mouth.

After he's sufficiently satisfied with my mouth, he moves down, one arm bracing himself slightly and the other moving to play with my breasts, massaging over the lace, palming my nipple, pushing and pulling in lazy motions, grinding his hips into mine in slow moves. He'd taken off his shirt and pants and was left in his boxer briefs, and the soft fabric was like everything else tonight, both too much and not enough for my sensitive sex.

Daddy kisses down my throat and I can feel him sucking and biting. I suspect he's leaving more marks but we both know how much I love see them, and how much he loves marking me.

He spends a lot of time exploring my body, eventually letting his lips suckle my nipples through the lacey bra. I can tell he's starting to reach his own limits because his movements are becoming slightly rougher. I know I'll have hickey's all over my breasts tomorrow and I'm excited to see them.

Finally he reaches behind me and gets the hooks released to remove the bra and immediately throws it off the side of the bed and returns to his task of marking every inch of my tits.

I don't remember when I closed my eyes, but I open them when Daddy pulls away, standing up enough to remove his last piece of clothing. His hard cock makes my mouth water but he's already positioning himself between my legs again, stroking his own cock slowly.

"When I saw you walk out in that skirt," he said, referencing the skirt currently pooled at my hips, "I almost canceled the evening right then and there and took you over my knee." I swallowed but tried to keep looking at him. The movement of his hand on his dick was quite distracting. Especially when he was looking at me while doing it.

"But then you came straight to me, right into my arms like daddy's good girl and I let my curiosity win. What was my girl planning?" He let go of his cock and started running his fingers through my slit again. "So I watched you. I watched you float around the party, being your charming, funny self." He leaned forward, pushing his fingers into my channel and causing me to arch into him, crying out. "But you always came back to me. Because your my girl, aren't you, kitten?" he emphasized his possession on me by pressing his thumb firmly onto my clit and holding it there while I squirmed on his fingers. He doesn't relent, and it takes me a moment to realize he's waiting for my response.

"Yours, sir," I manage to get out.

"That's right, sweet girl. Mine. Which means when you are having feelings or insecurities, what are you supposed to do?"

I don't want to talk about this right now. I want to be in control when we discuss this. I want my carefully curated words to mean EXACTLY what I want them to mean. But right now I'm raw and unfiltered and I don't know what I'm going to say. I want to be mature about all this but the mature part of my brain in MIA. All that's left is this lump of garbage feelings I know are wrong.

Daddy leverages his fingers inside me, pushing deeper but it's not his cock and I'm aching to be filled at this point.

"Tell me what you're supposed to do, baby."

The tears I finally thought I had under control resurface and I twist my head to the side trying to hide them.

"Look at me, angel." And I do. A part of me hates that my resistance is so low but Daddy uses the hand not in my pussy to hold my cheek, wiping away the couple of tears that escaped. He doesn't say anything more, just waits.

I try to channel my stubbornness, but he's worked that out of me with the massages and his mouth. I don't want to fight anymore. "I talk to you." It's whispered, but I know he hears. I close my eyes again and I'm surprised when he lets me, instead kissing the tears from my cheeks and then taking my mouth with his. I can taste my tears but I don't care. I just hold him while he works his tongue with mine.

When he pulls away I take a deep breath and open my eyes to see him smiling down at me, but its a soft, gentle smile. Maybe a little sad. "Why didn't you talk to me, little one?"

"Because I didn't want to be a problem you had to solve. Or that girl who can't handle her partner having friends." He rolls his eyes at the last statement and starts to fuck me with his fingers, moving them in and out in a more consistent pace.

He's finally letting the pressure inside me build. And I have to admit it feels bigger than I've felt before. "Sophie is only invited because she's friends with Paul and I couldn't tell you a single thing about her from tonight." He leans to my ear to whisper, the speed of his fingers increasing. "But I know EVERY move you made. I watched you pull your skirt down every time you stood up. I saw the wedgie you picked out when you thought no one was around. I counted every time you ruffled your hair, wishing it was my own hands. 12 times, baby girl. Twelve. Times." I yelp when he presses his fingers into the bundle of nerves inside my channel. Saying I'm officially worked up would be an understatement.

Daddy pulls his fingers out and he grins as sucks them into his mouth. Moving to line his dick up with my entrance, he uses his hand to press the tip to my clit and I grind up into the pressure.

"Who does this pussy belong to, kitten?"

"You, Daddy." And finally, FINALLY, Daddy pushes his cock into my pussy and the feeling of finally being filled forces a long, low moan from my throat. He doesn't waste time and starts thrusting, holding himself up with one arm and fondling my tits with the other.

I throw my head back and immediately lips and teeth are on my throat. I hear my own pants and moans and noises as if through a filter, like it could be someone else but I know it's me. I'm so close when Daddy releases my throat.

"That's my girl, take Daddy's cock. You took your punishment so well, I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, kitten?"

I think I babble something akin to please daddy yes daddy but I can't tell. Something presses to my clit and with the long press of what I assume are Daddy's fingers and it only takes a few seconds before I'm reaching an orgasm like I've never felt before. I might be screaming but the blood pumping in my ears is drowning everything out.

It only registers after I've come down that I can feel Daddy emptied his seed into me too. We stay there for a moment, breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Daddy," I whisper. And when he kisses me as he pulls out, I feel the heavy exhaustion settle in and happily sink into sleep. I'll clean up tomorrow.