Page 256 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

“That didn’t suck, sir,” I say as I get my breath back.

Mac chuckles and rubs his face between my shoulders before biting down hard enough to bruise. I yelp and trail off into soft laughter.

Mac pushes up, stretching my skin between his teeth before letting go and kissing the spot he’s bitten. “Nope, didn’t suck at all.” He lifts up and slaps my ass. “You don’t have permission to move yet unless you’re cramping. Are you cramping?”

“No, sir. I’m good.”

I am. Warm and languid and relaxed in the wake of that orgasm. It wasn’t earth-shattering—although the bed did move—but it was damn good. And it was so satisfying to have him come in me. In another minute or two when it’s snaking down my leg, I won’t be as happy about it. But right now, I’m just glorying in being his cum-bucket.

I wait for him to withdraw, but he doesn’t. He adjusts his stance so his legs are bracketing mine. I can feel his cock in me, no longer a battering ram, but a warm, gently-pulsing weight. His hands settle on my shoulders and begin rubbing. He works down my arms. Is he giving me a massage after he dicked me across the room? It feels like he is. And fuck if it doesn’t feel good. By the time he unclips the cuffs, although he doesn’t take them off, I’m a limp noodle.

“I’m going to pull out of you now and clean us both up. You still don’t have permission to move unless you’re cramping.”

“I don’t have any muscles left to cramp, sir.”

Mac chuckles. “Okay, bold girl. We’ll put that to the test in a minute. Let your arms relax to your sides.”

My arms slump to the bed without any conscious direction.

Mac rubs my ass as he withdraws. It’s not the yank of a guy who’s done and wants out. It’s a smooth retraction that lets meclose up behind him without feeling abandoned. Once he’s out, he wipes his wet dick on my ass. That should piss me off, but it just makes me feel all the more buzzingly, happily used.

Mac moves around for a minute, then starts rubbing something cool and damp over my skin, working down from my shoulders. I almost protest when he wipes the stickiness off my ass. Am I insane for liking being his tissue? Yes, definitely, but that’s nothing new. This man makes me abandon every ounce of common sense.

He finishes wiping up between my legs and jostles the plug in a way that makes my closed eyes cross. “How’s this feeling?”

At the moment, when I’m wallowing in afterglow, it just feels tingly. “Still green, sir. Green as grass.”

Mac snorts. “That green, huh? Good, because that’s where my cock’s going in about twenty minutes.”

He wants to fuck again? Don’t older guys roll over and go to sleep after they come? “That’s some impressive stamina for a geezer, sir.”

That gets me a hard ass-slap, which, in my euphoric state, just makes me giggle.

“That’s Master Geezer to you, smartass. Get your good leg up onto the bed and roll onto it. I want you on your side. Arms out in front of you so I can clip your cuffs to the rail.”

My bed’s simple—I didn’t have much of a budget when I decorated the apartment—but the metal bedframe has a rail at the head and foot that create ideal attachment points. I’ll admit that’s why I picked the bed. I haven’t been cuffed to it before, though.

“Yes, sir.” I lift my left leg onto the bed and roll up onto it, lifting my head so I don’t dislodge the blindfold as I move. Figuring he wants me in easy reach of the top rail, I scoot around until I’m lying the right way on the bed, with my head on the pillows and my hands up near the top rail. That means Maceither has to climb over me or go around the bottom of the bed to get into it with me. After setting a number of things on the bed and clipping my cuffs to the rail with what feels like a short piece of chain, he chooses the over-the-top route, rubbing his body all over mine and knocking me onto my back. He plants a hard kiss on my mouth as he rolls over me and like an idiot, I chase it once he gets on my far side. He slaps my tit lightly, jostling the clamps and making my nipples zing.

“Where’d I tell you to end up?” he growls, but it’s a playful growl.

“On my side, sir, but then you steam-rolled me flat with your man-weight.”

Mac laughs and kisses my ear. “You are such a smartass. Get on your side. I want that ass to know what’s going in it while I give that cunt so many orgasms it taps out.”

Fuck me. Okay then.

Mac messes around with the pillows until he’s got me where he wants me, with my right leg bent and propped high on several pillows, opening my groin to him. I shiver when the cool air laps at a place that’s normally shielded, but I’m not cold for long. Mac slides something slick into my pussy. For a dildo, it’s on the slender side, although it’s long enough to stretch me a little. I clench around it experimentally and immediately feel a tingle. What’s he put on it?

“Sir, what is that?”

“Ginger oil. Should start warming you up nicely.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. Ginger oil kills me. It’s worse when it’s in my ass, but in my pussy I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes of sanity before I’ll be begging so hard for an orgasm that I’ll sell not just my first-born but also every child born to my children’s children for the next hundred years. The dildo’s not thick enough for me to really work against, either. I’m so screwed.

Mac’s heat slides in behind me and he nestles his soft cock between my ass cheeks. It rubs slickly and tingles.

“Sir, did you put ginger oil on your dick?”