My phone buzzed. Daddy was texting.
I'm sending someone over to take care of a project. He should be there in 5 minutes. Please let him in, sugarpop.
Keep your phone with you. I'll call in a bit.
There had been a lot of activity around the house since I'd moved in. We were feathering our nest, making the house cozier for the both of us, and putting my mark on it. Daddy was insistent that I was the woman of the house, and wanted it to reflect my tastes as much as his.
Things had been going so great with us since I finally felt ready to grow up and commit. Our relationship has gotten richer, closer, and even hotter. We'd always had amazing chemistry, but the chemical reaction had gotten so hot it felt like a fusion core. His libido, which was always high, was now off the scale, and being wanted like that made me even hotter.
We'd also gotten more open and intense about what turned us on. Daddy had always been dominant, but his calm, assertive confidence was building off my desire to submit to a worthy man. Being his woman, body and soul, didn't just make me feel safe and secure: it was making me hornier than ever--which is saying a lot for me.
The doorbell rang and I walked downstairs to get it. With his kids gone for the summer, he probably wants me to feel safe alone in the house, which is why he told me to keep my phone at hand. He's such a cutie.
There was a guy in his 40s at the front door. Flannel shirt and jeans, short hair and a trucker hat--he looked like every other contractor in the Berkshires, and based on the pickup truck in the driveway, that's what he was.
"Hi," I said, as I let him in. "Daddy told me you were coming over. I'm not sure what you're supposed to be working on, though," I laughed.
"Uh yeah, hi, I'm Eric." He seemed nervous and awkward. "Umm can we sit down? I'm supposed to tell you about what I'm doing here."
This was odd, but I brought him into the living room and sat in one of the nice chairs by the window. Eric sat across from me, on the blue couch that made everyone awkwardly too close to the ground.
"What's up?" I said brightly, wanting to get back upstairs to my work.
"Umm. Well, your man is at my house right now, fucking my wife."
This was interesting. Lately, while Daddy was riding me through my third or fourth orgasm, I had been telling him how I was getting off to how dominant he was, and that I wanted him to take women for his pleasure. It was a hot fantasy of mine: I love how masculine he is, and knowing that he's my man makes it hot to think about women getting off on his thick cock, but never having him the way I do.
"Ok... "I said, "so, what are you doing here?"
"Um, well, he told me to come over and eat your pussy, and if I didn't--and didn't get you off--he wasn't going to let Jen touch me anymore."
Very interesting. My pussy flooded at the thought of Daddy taking this man's wife away from him, and making him take care of me while he did it.
Knowing my man, there was more to this. "What else did he tell you?"
"I'm not allowed to do anything but eat your pussy, unless you tell me to do anything specific. I'm allowed to play with my dick, but I can't come on you. He's going to call to make sure I follow the rules."