The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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When I let her up for air, sheβs gone from beaming to dreamy-eyed and quivering. I can smell the faintest hint of gingerbread over the lemon polish of the parquet floor. I love how responsive she is.
βDaddy has not always been awesome,β I admit. βBut Daddy is going to do everything he can to be awesome for his little girl.β
She gives me a beatific smile. βThatβs all any daddy can do.β
I tap her on the tip of her nose and lead her down into the nightclub.
* * *
The nightclub is decidedly not awesome. Itβs too warm, too loud and too crowded. Emily shrinks against me, clutching my hand, before weβre even through the bar into the main floor. I guide her along toward the VIP booths, where Iβm sure Rick will have set out his stall.
The VIP booths, two dozen raised booths off the main dance and performance space which donβt hold much more than a semi-circular couch and a low table, arenβt really for VIPs. Theyβre for guests who want to feel important, and for our house subs to make a little extra money. Itβs five hundred to reserve a VIP booth; only the house subs serve in the VIP booths and the minimum tip is a hundred. Throwing a grand at five rounds of drinks is not my idea of a good night.
But Iβm right in guessing that it is Rickβs. Heβs in the fourth VIP booth to the left of the dance floor. The heavy red curtains are open, so Rick, Daisy and Manny can watch the dance floor, and everyone on the dance floor can see the tit-job Rick is getting from a girl in pink and orange day-glow spandex, who is on her knees under the table. The spandex is currently around her waist as she pumps what must be G-cups up and down Rickβs cock.
βEmily!β Daisy calls over the music and pats the couch by her side. Manny obligingly slides out. I help Emily up the tall step into the booth and she climbs onto the couch next to Daisy. Once sheβs seated, I settle next to her and put my arm around her shoulders. Manny retakes his seat on my far side.
He puts his mouth to my ear and says, loudly enough to be heard over the Eighties hip-hop the DJβs playing, βWe might have a problem.β
βWhatβs up?β
βThe girl tit-fucking Rick is on the moon. Wait until you see her eyes. She looks like a fucking bush baby.β
I canβt see the girl because of the table, which Iβm fine with, since watching Rickβs purple-headed warrior appear and disappear between those massive tits is not a turn-on for me. Iβll take Mannyβs word for it.
Drugs are strictly prohibited in the club. Too much potential for mess, much less bad publicity. But people sneak them in anyway.
βWhatβs she on?β
βBlow, at a guess. She and Rick were doing tequila shots, too.β
Great. Just great. And I canβt really blame Rick, because itβs not his fault he draws drugged-up wannabes like honey draws flies.
βDid she use here?β I ask Manny.
Manny shakes his head. βShe was fucked up when she showed up and pulled her top down.β
βOkay, thanks for the heads up. Let Rick get his rocks off, then weβll make it an early night.β
βThey might be hard to persuade. Thereβs a cage show at midnight Rickβs been talking up.β Manny nods towards the dance floor. Three cages hang over the mass of dancers already, but theyβre empty at present.
I check my watch. Midnight is much too far away. I want to be home, and hopefully deep in Emily, by then.
As though responding to my thought, Emily shifts closer to me. When I glance over, I see that Daisyβs put one white-clawed hand on Emilyβs thigh.
I reach across Emily and brush Daisyβs hand away. βPaws off.β
Daisy goes up on one knee. She sticks her face in mine and says, so close I can feel the warmth of her breath on my lips and smell the cinnamon gum sheβs chewing, βCβmon, Big Daddy, share your toy. I promise weβll have fun.β
βBack up and back off,β I tell her, snapping my teeth just short of the tip of her nose. βI donβt share and no one touches Emily but me.β
βSpoil-sport.β She cracks her gum at me, but sits back on the couch. I watch her for a minute to make sure she doesnβt touch Emily again. Give her points, she keeps her hands to herself, and Emily happily goes back to their conversation.
On the other side of the table, Ms. Orange and Pink is giving it her all: squeezing her breasts together with her hands, bobbing up and down furiously while she makes squeaky moans. Daisy rolls her eyes at each one. Without wanting to denigrate Ms. Orange and Pinkβs efforts, Rick is looking only mildly interested. Although his cock is hard, his face isnβt flushed and heβs watching the dance floor instead of the show Ms. Orange and Pink is putting on for him.
Finally, he gets bored with the tit-job. He grabs her tufty updo and shoves her face down on his cock. When she squeals and protests, Rick slaps her face with his cock, hard enough to make a noise I can hear over the end of an old Bangles song, before shoving her head down again.
βNo fucking finesse,β I hear Daisy say to Emily, who giggles.
Unfortunately, I agree with Daisy. Although thereβs nothing wrong with a good cock-slapping, Rickβs doing it purely for his own gratification, not because he has any intention of topping Ms. Orange and Pink. Hitting a girl for anything other than her ultimate pleasure turns my stomach.
βWant to dance, baby doll?β I ask, to
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