Another one that I had problems defining the category for. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little role-play where the hot wife waits for her Daddy to come home from work. When he does, she looks after him in style.
As ever, feedback is appreciated. You can send feedback either in public comments below, PM on Lit forums, or email - email is best if you wants a response or have any questions, or just want to get involved.
As ever there could be, and probably are, errors in the text. Please forgive me.
GA - Belize City, Belize. 21st May 2012.
*
His wife sat on the stairs, knees together but cleverly positioned on the seventh riser so he could see the gusset of her white underwear drawn taut across the cleft of her pussy.
'Hello, Daddy,' she grinned when he closed the door behind him. 'I've been waiting for you to get home.' The grin became a pout as she looked down at him, eyes sorrowful. 'I missed you. It's dark and cold and wet outside ... And I don't like it when it's dark. I get scared.'
She stood, purposely pausing to allow him to appreciate the clothing she'd chosen, showing off her long legs. He stared up at her and swallowed heavily, muttering an obscenity in appreciation of the spiked heels, the pink over-knee socks, the briefest pleated skirt of the same shocking colour, and the tight, sleeveless white tee-shirt moulded to her breasts. She slowly descended, one hand on the banister to steady herself, knowing from the look on his face the effect she was having.
Finally her eyes were level with his. She reached for the laptop bag in his hand. .'Did you have a hard day, Daddy?' He nodded, unable to speak at that moment. She leaned forward, hands behind her back. He could smell the clean scent of her, soap and shampoo and subtle perfume as she gently kissed his cheek. He smiled idiotically, his hand coming up to where her lips had feathered his face. 'I'm such a lucky girl to have a Daddy who works so hard to take care of me.' She reached for the knot of his tie, loosening it. 'And because you work so hard, I'm going to look after you tonight.' She took a pace backwards, the backs of her shoes against the lowest tread of the stairs. 'Do you like my new clothes?'
Still dumb he nodded while she executed an enthusiastic pirouette. 'Very ... uh ... nice,' he said to her wide-eyed, expectant face, his voice a croak.
'Do I look pretty in my new clothes, Daddy? I wanted to look pretty for you.'
'Very pretty,' he managed.
She grinned and clapped her hands. 'That makes me happy. Now,' she added, turning. 'You go into the living room and I'll bring you a cold beer. I got the kind you like.'
Somehow he resisted the urge to grab her, even when he saw the tantalising undercurve of his wife's buttocks beneath the flicking hem of the brief skirt. He knew from experience it would be better for both of them if he let her play her game. Suppressing the urgent desires that constricted his throat and swelled his chest, he strode down the hall, yanking the tie from around his neck.
'Here you are, Daddy,' she murmured, eyes demurely downcast as she handed him the frosted bottle. 'Sit in your chair. Let me slip off those shoes for you. There,' she sighed when he settled back into the armchair. 'All better now?' Lowering herself to the carpet she curled herself around his lower legs, her arms on his knee. She sighed after settling her chin atop her arms, gazing with adoration. 'You enjoy your beer, Daddy,' she crooned, a hand stroking his thigh now. 'There's more in the fridge.'
'Thank you,' he responded, his voice gruff. 'Did you get your hair done too?'
She nodded. 'Yes, I wanted to look really pretty for you tonight.' She sat upright and fingered the blonde tendril at her temple. 'Do you like it?' she asked, her face suddenly worried.
It was the perfect shade of ash-blonde he preferred -- and she knew it. He played the game. 'I love it. You look very pretty for Daddy.'
She sighed and smiled, settling her chin on top of her arms again. Looking up at him she asked, 'Shall I run you a bath, Daddy? You could lie in the bath and drink your beer ...' Nodding with enthusiasm at her own suggestion she rose to her feet, adding: 'And I could wash you. It'll be so relaxing for you after such a hard day.'
He took a long pull at the bottle and stared at her intently, eyeing her from her shoes to her blonde hair. 'That sounds like it could be good, Princess.'
'You sit there and relax. I'll call you when it's ready.'
She left the room with the skirt hem flicking. He swigged at the beer, thinking about his wife of eight years as her heels sounded on the stairs. He heard her moving about on the floor above, marvelling at how sexy he still found her. And why not, he mused, Anna was a desirable woman; he'd caught a goodly percentage of his friends eyeing her surreptitiously. She was also adventurous in the bedroom -- and elsewhere, he'd found. Beach holidays were a particular favourite for Anna, any excuse to wear next to nothing and exhibit herself -- His wife was hot and she knew it.
He raised the two-thirds empty bottle in salute. 'Pretty damn tasty at thirty-five,' he said, toasting his wife. This was something else though, this innocent thing she had going on; calling him Daddy and wearing those clothes.
Several minutes went by until he heard the call from upstairs. 'Ready!'
'Jesus Christ, Anna,' he spluttered when he arrived at the foot of the stairs.
