The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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I set the bottle on the floor, prop the phone against the bottom dresser drawer, bend over until I can touch my toes, squeeze a dollop on my hands and rub it in, smoothing it up the backs of my calves, my thighs, over my bottom, in slow, circular strokes.
Logan groans. βYouβre killing me.β
βAm I, Daddy?β I turn around, feigning innocence, while I smooth the lotion up and down my arms, stretching my hands to him.
βTease me and your ass will regret it. Forever.β
I giggle and rub lotion over my breasts, pinching my nipples as I rub. When my nipples are hard and slick, I slide my hands down over my belly and rub lotion into my mound, thinking of Loganβs hands on me and biting my lip as I look into the phone.
βFor ever and ever,β Logan promises with a growl.
βYes, Daddy.β
βPut your pajamas on before my balls implode.β
I took my best pajamas to his house, but didnβt wear them. Theyβre still in my overnight bag, waiting to be transferred to my larger case. Why donβt I have more? Because, at most, I spend one night per weekend with my Doms. I should have ordered more when I bought the swimsuits.
I fish them out of my overnight bag. White satin with pink hearts. He should love them. I pull the cami on first, so I can wave my bare ass at the phone as long as possible. Loganβs appreciative groans make me draw out the reverse strip-tease, but finally, I finish sliding the shorts up my legs and thereβs nothing left to do but carry the phone to my bed and prop it on a pillow as I climb in and snuggle down in my pillows and covers. Loganβs bed was wonderfully cozyβparticularly for a manβs bedβbut nothing beats my bed with its memory foam mattress and mountains of pillows.
Logan watches me settle, his eyes hooded and dark. βIf I was there with you, baby doll, Iβd be tying you to that brass bed frame.β
βWe didnβt do that last night or this morning, Daddy.β Even though his four-poster had conveniently placed bars at head and foot that Iβm pretty sure are for exactly that purpose.
βNo, but we will. Iβve got so much planned for you.β He reaches out of the picture frame and pulls back a little black notebook, like a pocket diary. He thumbs it, flipping pages, and I can see neat printing on dozens of pages. βAfter you left, I sat down and wrote out ideas for hours.β
βWould you read some to me?β I ask, clasping my hands under my chin. βPlease-please, Daddy?β
βOne. Otherwise itβll spoil the surprise.β He turns the notebook around so itβs facing him, flips pages and reads. βHigh school date. Take BD, thatβs you, little girl, out to dinner and a movie. Rent old GTO. Drive out to suburbia and find dark street. Make out until dawn. Eat out BD on hood. If BD doesnβt want to fuck because sheβs a good girl, tie her up and fuck her in back seat.β
βDaddy!β It comes out on a gasp, because excitement has grabbed my throat and squeezed. βI would love to do that. Do you plan out all our scenes?β
He tucks the notebook away as he nods. βGives me something to do when youβre not here.β
No wonder heβs such a wonderful Dom. βPlease, one more, Daddy, please!β
βNo. Behave yourself and stop thinking about me stretching you over the hood of a big old muscle car while I lick and suck that sweet cunt.β
Like Iβm ever going to get that image out of my head now. βWhen can we do that?β
βSecond date when we get back from the cruise.β
βSecond date?β
βIβve got something else planned for our first date.β He gives me his wolf grin.
Despite the crazy heat of that grin and his plans and lying in my bed talking to him, still feeling the fading burn across my ass and the twinge of soreness between my legs, I feel a niggle of insecurity. βYou might be bored by then, sir.β
Logan chuckles. βBaby, Iβve got months of ideas already. And I havenβt even gone down the rabbit hole of bad-baby play yet. Whatβs that all about?β
I wriggle with delight. Months? He wants months with me? I know this wonβt last. Foreverβs a myth and most kinky relationships donβt last any longer than vanilla relationships. Weβre just in that honeymoon period where anything seems possible. Still, I would love months with him.
βDid you read anything about it?β I ask, forcing myself back to the topic. βDiapering and putting me to bed in a crib and stuff?β Itβs not really my thing, but if he wants to try bad-baby, Iβll do it for him.
βNo. Is that what itβs all about? Would it turn you on?β
I shrug. βI havenβt done it for real before. Lew made me wear a diaper once and it wasnβt a turn-on. It was kind of ridiculous, actually. But he didnβt go the whole nine yards.β Logan himself kind of diapered me with the towel after our werewolf sex, for which I was grateful, but he didnβt want me to actually use the diaper the way Lew did. Which I refused to do. Which led to the first of several big arguments about the limits of my submission, not that I even knew what hard and soft limits were back then, but those arguments, and maybe my ignorance, and definitely my cowardice, eventually split us up.
βWould you like to do that, though?β
βI donβt know.β Thinking about it doesnβt feel very sexy. βIβm not sure how Iβd feel about sex when I was that little.β
He rubs his hand over his face. βThatβs a point. Iβm not sure how Iβd feel about that, either. What age do you usually play?β
Oh, no, I thought he understood? βI donβt, um, play an age.β
Those dark eyes search mine. βSorry, that was the wrong question, wasnβt it? What age do you usually feel?β
I feel like Iβm thirty-two, but thatβs not
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