Page 5 of My Best Friend’s Silver Fox Daddy (Yes, Daddy #52)

MORGAN

I t’s been a couple of days since our meeting in the student union.

I actually wasn’t stalking him. I was doing a little work on my article and running into Mr. Hooper there was just a happy coincidence, so I took advantage of it.

Not only did I get a couple of good quotes for my piece, but I also know I got under his skin at the same time.

The way he was looking at me, drinking me in from head to toe, got me so wet and hot that I had a hard time not squirming in my chair.

As it was, I had to go home and change my panties … after getting myself off anyway.

Seeing that glimmer in his eyes told me all I needed to know.

Mr. Hooper wants me as much as I want him.

I’m sure it’s fearing what Kelsey might think that’s holding him back.

And I get that. It’s been making me hesitate, too.

But I keep coming back to something Mr. Hooper said—that we’re all adults now.

We’re all grown-ups. And shouldn’t grown-ups be able to enjoy each other without being bound by our childish notions?

I know. I’m justifying it to myself. I have an uncanny ability to rationalize anything.

It’s kind of like my superpower. And it’s that superpower that has led me to stand outside Mr. Hooper’s door.

My stomach is churning, and my hands are shaking as I raise my hand and knock on the door quickly, not giving myself a chance to back out.

I’m not the most assertive girl around, but something needs to give here.

I can’t keep longing for something I’m never going to have. I need some clarity for my own sake.

“Come,” Mr. Hooper’s voice comes from behind the door.

Letting out a breath, I grab the door handle with my trembling hand and open it.

I step into his office and close the door behind me.

Mr. Hooper takes off his glasses as he looks up from his computer, and I can see the surprise on his face.

His eyes slide up and down my body, drinking me in, lingering first on my legs, then on my breasts.

I made sure to wear a cute skirt and top today, just to make his decision more difficult. It seems to be working.

“Morgan,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

I pull a folder out of my messenger bag, slip a couple of pages out of it, and set them on his desk.

I lean close, letting my long, blond hair brush the back of his neck, and let him catch a nice hint of my perfume.

Mr. Hooper clenches his jaw, and I can see the heat creeping up his neck and spreading into his cheeks.

Not wanting to overplay my hand, I stand up, and he clears his throat.

“I thought you might want to see a preview of my article,” I tell him.

“That’s very considerate of you.”

I perch on the corner of his desk, hiking my skirt a little higher to give him a good view of my thigh.

Mr. Hooper licks his lips, forces himself to turn away, and picks up my article.

As he reads, I arch my back a little, thrusting my chest out a little more.

I can see him looking at me from the corner of his eye, and when I glance down, I can see his cock straining against his jeans.

My heart fluttering and my belly churning, I swallow the lump in my throat.

This is my chance to get some clarity. I’ve never done anything this bold before, and I’m terrified. But it’s now or never. My hand is trembling as I reach down and grab his cock through his jeans. Mr. Hooper is startled and jumps to his feet, a startled look on his face.

“Morgan, what are you doing?”

“What you won’t,” I say.

I slip off his desk and take a step toward him, but Mr. Hooper takes a step back. He’s trying so hard to do the right thing, but I can see just how hard he’s fighting his desire.

“You know there’s something between us, Mr. Hooper.”

“I know there is. But we shouldn’t?—”

I step forward and press my mouth to his.

Mr. Hooper’s body tenses, but as I slip my tongue past his teeth, he moans softly, and I feel his resolve crumble.

He pulls me to him roughly. His kiss steals my breath, and he pushes me back to the desk.

I squeak as he picks me up and sets me down on it, then falls to his knees before me.

My heart is racing, and my body is quivering as he pushes my skirt up around my waist and yanks my panties down roughly.

My eyes are wide with amazement that this is finally happening as he leans forward, and when the tip of his tongue, soft and wet, touches my clit, it feels like I grabbed hold of a live wire.

As he slides his tongue along my wet, swollen lips, I cry out.

Reaching down, I grab his hair, and as if I’m not in control of myself, I yank it hard.

He grunts but buries his tongue deep inside of me.

Still gripping his hair, I rock back and forth, grinding myself against his face.

The stubble on his cheeks tickles the insides of my thighs, and I giggle.

But when his teeth graze my clit, I shudder and moan as my body explodes with sensation.

Goosebumps prickle my skin, and my grip on his hair tightens.

I roll my hips, mashing my pussy against his face, and he continues licking and sucking me, his fingers joining his tongue.

“Oh yes, Mr. Hooper. God, yes, baby,” I moan. “Lick my pussy, Daddy.”

His growl rumbles against my lips, sending bolts of electricity through my pussy.

Getting myself off didn’t prepare me for how amazing this feels.

I’ve never felt anything like this before.

He laps at my center like he can’t get enough, pumping his fingers into me at the same time.

My entire body tightens around him, my breathing is ragged, and I can’t seem to control myself.

I shake and writhe against him, the pressure building up inside of me growing more intense by the moment.

And just when I feel like my body can’t get any tighter, I suddenly feel weightless.

Like I’m falling. My grip on his hair tightens, and I hold him where he is, shaking almost violently as I come.

My voice shakes as I cry out and Mr. Hooper keeps eating my pussy, making me feel like I’ve got lightning shooting through my veins.

Slowly, my orgasm ebbs, and I let go of his hair.

He looks up at me with a smile, and when I see my juices glistening on his lips and chin, it reignites the heat inside of me.

He leans down and kisses me, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

My pussy feels like it’s on fire, and I have never been wetter than I am right now.

Desperate to have him inside of me, I reach down and grab hold of his belt.

My fingers are clumsy, and I fumble with it.

A soft laugh drifting from his lips, he takes my hands off his belt, then quickly unbuckles his belt and gets his zipper undone.

Reaching into his pants, I gasp as I wrap my fingers around his long, thick cock.

It’s the first dick I’ve ever touched, and I never imagined it would be so big.

Or hard. Honestly, I’m a small girl, and I’m a little nervous about having something so large inside of me. But my desire drives me forward.

“I want to feel you inside of me,” I gasp.

I spread my legs wider as he steps forward, his hazel eyes burning into me. Still gripping his cock, I guide him to me, nestling the head of his cock between my slick, quivering lips.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Mr. Hooper. I want this. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

His mouth finds mine as he thrusts his cock into me. He swallows my cry as he stretches me open, and the hit of pain of having him inside of me is almost blinding. But as his rigid length slides along my slippery inner walls, the pain fades as a torrent of pleasure rushes through me.

“Oh my God, yes,” I moan.

He slips his hands around my waist and grabs my ass, pulling me closer to him.

He squeezes my cheeks hard as he starts to pump himself into me in a hard, steady rhythm.

Each thrust of his dick pierces my core and sends a brief pinch of pain followed by an intense wave of pleasure.

He’s so big that he stretches me open wider than I ever thought possible.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunts.

“Just for you, Daddy. Keep fucking me. Don’t stop, Daddy.”

His groan is low and hoarse, but his cock seems to get even harder as he buries it into me. He likes it when I call him Daddy. As the pressure builds inside me again, I lean forward and let my lips brush his ear.

“Give me your dick, Daddy. Give it to your dirty little girl harder.”

Just saying the words makes me feel like a dirty little girl, but I can’t deny that it turns me on to say them.

I heard it in a video once—a few of them, to be honest—and I’ve always wanted to play the role.

And judging by how hard his cock is and the intensity with which he’s fucking me, I can tell Mr. Hooper likes it too.

I squeak when he pulls me off his desk and turns me around.

He roughly bends me over the desk and pushes my skirt up again.

I turn and look at him over my shoulder as he plunges his cock into me.

As he thrusts himself into me from behind, he feels impossibly deep.

The pain is a little more intense, but so is the pleasure that washes it away.

Mr. Hooper reaches up and grabs my long hair then yanks my head back almost painfully as he fucks me.

“Yes, Daddy. Just like that.”

The sharp crack of his hand meeting my ass rings in my ear a moment before the sting of his palm on my cheek hits. I flinch, then moan, feeling more and more like a dirty girl and loving every moment of it. Mr. Hooper pulls my hair and pumps into me even harder.

“You are such a dirty little girl, Morgan.”

“Only for you, Mr. Hooper. I’m your dirty little girl. Fuck your dirty girl, Daddy.”

His cock swells, and he grunts, his rhythm thrown off.

A moment later, I feel him twitch, and then a low, gruff growl falls from his lips as he erupts.

His cock throbs, and I feel him shooting thick ropes of his warm, sticky come into me.

The sensation of him filling me up sends waves of electricity crackling across my skin and makes me cry out as I climax again.

Mr. Hooper holds onto my hips as I tremble and writhe, my orgasm taking my breath away.

My pussy is pulsing around his cock, milking every last drop of come out of his balls, and when he’s spent, he softens and slips out of me.

I stay where I am for a moment, bent over the desk, still trembling, trying to catch my breath, and savoring the ecstasy that envelops me.

My head is spinning, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.

I can’t believe it happened. I can’t believe it finally happened.

And it’s better than I ever fantasized about.

I stand up and turn around. Mr. Hooper seems to be coming down from the endorphin high.

His face is pale, giving me a strange, worried look.

A smile on my lips, I put my hands on either side of his face and pull him down, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

He melts into me for a moment before slowly pulling back.

“This is going to be complicated,” he says.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“These things always are.”

“Because people complicate them,” I respond. “We don’t have to be like those people.”

He offers me a smile but doesn’t look very reassured. I pick up my panties and quickly slip them back on, then smooth down my skirt and my hair, trying to look as casual and nonchalant as I possibly can. When I feel I’ve put myself back together, I give him another peck.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Hooper.”

“I think … given what we just did, you can call me Mack. Don’t you think?”

“We’ll see.”

I tip him a wink, then hurry from his office. My body is still tingling with the afterglow. With the realization I was able to cross something off my bucket list. As I make my way through the hallways, though, I already know he’s right.

This is going to be very complicated.