The final part. Please see part one for content warnings.
Thursday, Daddy didn't fuck Mandie at all.
That didn't mean that he left her unmolested, though.
She woke up wrapped around him like an octopus, grinding against his naked thigh, which he must have placed there to tempt her. She moaned in disappointment as she woke enough to remember that the hot need bubbling inside her would be going unsatisfied.
He just laughed and pressed a hand to her waist, encouraging her to keep going; she was helpless to resist, in spite of the frustration. She went on humping and sliding against his skin for almost twenty minutes, drifting sleepily in and out of lurid dreams.
When Sam finally untangled himself and got out of bed, announcing he'd have to shower off before work, he was visibly well on his way to an erection. Mandie stood up to follow him, thinking he'd want a blowjob or at least a handjob in the shower, but Sam waved her off.
"I'm saving that for tomorrow," he informed her.
That was one of the most confusing things Mandie had ever heard. If she were in charge, she couldn't imagine ever passing up the opportunity to come. It was especially hard to imagine in that moment, as she was writhing with unspent need in the bed, her pussy clenching on nothing after she'd repeatedly edged herself on Daddy's thigh.
When she said as much, though, he just laughed at her and said that was exactly why she wasn't in charge.
Then he disappeared into the shower, leaving her confused and pouting and trying to resist the urge to grind into the bed or hump one of the pillows, which wouldn't feel nearly as good as his thigh and definitely wouldn't give her what she needed.
After work, and after dinner, he laid her out on the couch and told her to rub her clit again.
Mandie obeyed, whining and moaning as she fiddled with the twitching nub, frustrated by the brief flashes of pleasure interspersed with the awkward nothingness. Underneath it all was a constant, burning arousal that made her ache, fueled not just by the days of denial but also by the act itself--by being ordered to put herself on display this way, to touch herself for Daddy's enjoyment; by the way Daddy was watching her, seated on the coffee table between her legs, his gaze dark and hungry.
It made her hot and hyper-sensitive, made her hips twitch and her pussy drool.
"Fuck me, Daddy, please," she begged finally, not even bothering to beg to come; she was convinced now that he really wasn't going to back down, not with less than twenty-four hours left on the safe. "Please, please, I want you inside me, please, my pussy aches so bad!"
Sam groaned and leaned forward, pushing one of her thighs further out with his hand, and then he slid two fingers into her cunt.
Mandie wailed loudly and squeezed her eyes shut, her pussy squeezing down hard on the digits as he began to thrust them, fingering her hole roughly.
"Daddy! Daddy! Mmnn--" she rubbed furiously at her clit, every muscle in her body straining, sweat beading on her skin. When Sam dipped his head down and latched his teeth over one of her nipples, she bleated out a little shrieking noise and felt her clit twitching into her fingers, sharp and demanding--seeking different fingers, or the satisfying buzz of a toy, anything but her own touch. "Fuck. Fuck. Daddy!"
He nibbled at her nipple and then sucked on it, soothing the sting with his tongue, before moving to the other and giving it the same attention.
She jerked and writhed, rocking down to meet his fingers pounding away inside her, and pressed hard on her clit with her knuckles, trying desperately to grind out enough sensation to finish. Her chest and stomach heaved with how hard and fast she was panting.
Eventually, Daddy was done playing with her breasts and he pulled his head up to blow into her ear instead, making her jolt and grit her teeth on the urgency of the need roiling inside her. "Are you close, baby?" he asked.
"No," she groaned. "Can't do it. I can't do it, Daddy."
"Mm. That's because you're my good little girl. My beautiful little slut," he murmured, pressing his fingers roughly and deeply into her to make her gasp. "Your little clitty knows who owns it, isn't that right? No matter how much of a brat you are, your pussy knows it belongs to me, to your Daddy."
"Fuck," Mandie gasped, her cunt rippling hard around his fingers. "Yes, Daddy, yes, it's yours, I'm yours!"
"You know, it used to make me sad," he told her, in a low tone, like he was whispering a secret. "When you told me about how frustrated you were when you were younger, when you tried to masturbate but couldn't finish. I didn't like thinking about my little girl being all alone like that. But now...all I can think is that you were being such a good girl, waiting for me. Waiting for your Daddy to show you what your body was meant for."
"Daddy," she whimpered, and finally gave up rubbing her clit--it was mostly numb to her touch by that point anyway--and grasped at him instead, clinging to him as he twisted and rocked his fingers inside her, working her needy cunt hard.
It was true; when she was a young woman back in college, she'd spent long hours trying to find a way to bring herself off, fruitlessly rubbing her clit and sticking her fingers in herself. She'd fantasized about a handsome, experienced man stepping in and finally helping her reach the peak that seemed to come so easily to other women.
Connecting her Daddy back to those teenage fantasies made her blood quicken and her body throb. "Yes. You. I was waiting for you--needed you--Daddy--!"
"I've got you now, baby," he assured her, twisting his fingers again so that his knuckles rubbed along her throbbing G-spot, making her whine. "Tomorrow. I'll remind you of how good Daddy can make you feel."
"Yes, Daddy," she sobbed. "I love you. I love you. Ohh..." she groaned as his fingers slowed and finally drew out, leaving her feeling empty and aching.
"I love you too, sweetheart." He kissed her on her forehead, and then on the tip of her nose, and finally on the lips again. "Come on now, time to clean you up. Your naughty pussy is such a mess, I think we'll need to rinse it off in the shower again."
Mandie groaned.
***
Friday was nothing but nerves and anticipation.
In some ways, it almost felt as if it were the first time again. Not Mandie's first time in general, which had been a disappointing fumble with a fellow undergraduate in college, but the first time she'd slept with Sam. Back when he wasn't quite her Daddy yet, and certainly wasn't her husband. Back when he was just the astoundingly handsome man she'd met on a fetish website and had gone on a couple of dates with, when she was trying desperately to hide how she was falling head over heels for him, because she was sure that getting clingy so soon would scare him off.
There had been a lot of anticipation leading up to that first time, and a lot of nerves, too. She'd worried that he would be disappointed--if not with her less-than-supermodel figure, then with her body's oddly specific needs: she'd had more than one hookup go sideways when a man got intimidated or offended by the idea that she'd need more than his cock and maybe a bit of vague rubbing to get off.
But not Sam.
