Tags: Fluff, Het, F!Courier, Old Ben, Daddy kink. Summary: Porn so fluffy, it makes Skinny Love sound cute.
He’d heard it before, of course- he worked as a male escort for a while- but it had never really been his “cup of tea” so-to-say. But this...?
“Daddy!” Erin moaned, biting on her knuckles with that rosy flush on her pale face...
Well, this he could get into.
She was a hardass, oh sure, walked around covered in guns like she couldn’t kill you with her little finger, but she was hurting, deep down. Old Ben knew the look. She spent more time asking about him than he spent in most jobs, and didn’t talk about herself much, but she’d answer whatever he asked. It was really a matter of finding the right questions, and it didn’t occur to him until later that night the significance of her Freudian slip when she called him Dad. It wasn’t a big deal to Old Ben- he had a bit of that two-kids-and-a-picket-fence vibe, he’d admit- but his quick dismissal to call him “whatever sounded right” had been met with a smile a little too thankful.
One thing led to another- “another” meaning the little secret he was sleeping on cardboard again tonight- and she generously offered her room up at the Wrangler.
“Didn’t your dad ever tell you not to trust strange men?” he had joked.
“Are you saying you’re a strange man, Dad?” she had replied. He laughed, and she winked, and he offered to sleep on the couch, and she kissed him before she got the door open.
The rest, they say, is history- even if it was a bit blurry now.
They both knew the drill. You kiss, rip each other’s clothes off, and pretend “knowing the drill” meant you knew the first thing about the other person. They surprised each other, him when she nipped his ear and said “Do you want me to suck your cock?”, and her when he replied “Why don’t you lay back and let dear Old Dad take care of you?” She grinned without even thinking about how much she hated her smile.
So, maybe a daddy kink wasn’t just for golddiggers (she had the caps to buy them both onto the Strip several times over, while Ben slept in alleys most nights) and girls with daddy issues (her father sounded better than his, which was saying something). Ben obliged, teasing his finger up and down her slit- but not pushing in just yet, not until she was good and ready. She was already whimpering and flushed, pushing her pelvis against him, so he dipped one in ever-so-slowly, and that little moan was just adorable as she twitched around that one finger, tight and wet. He rocked in and out of her gently, licked from one side of her labia to the other and flicked his tongue over the clit. He pulled the hood back with his thumb, but even his breath had her twitching then, too sensitive. He took it into his mouth, shielded by the hood, and laved at it while he slipped another finger in. Erin groaned, and bit her lip, and balled her fist up in the sheets, so Ben rubbed her clit with his left hand and twisted in and out of her with his right because he had this thing about getting a woman off before he ever got inside of her, and he really, really wanted to be inside of her. Erin came with a squeak- an honest to God squeak- legs shaking, and she was barely finished with “Thank you, Daddy” when he sheathed himself inside of her, one long stroke.
Long as You Like [1a/1]
Summary: Porn so fluffy, it makes Skinny Love sound cute.
He’d heard it before, of course- he worked as a male escort for a while- but it had never really been his “cup of tea” so-to-say. But this...?
“Daddy!” Erin moaned, biting on her knuckles with that rosy flush on her pale face...
Well, this he could get into.
She was a hardass, oh sure, walked around covered in guns like she couldn’t kill you with her little finger, but she was hurting, deep down. Old Ben knew the look. She spent more time asking about him than he spent in most jobs, and didn’t talk about herself much, but she’d answer whatever he asked. It was really a matter of finding the right questions, and it didn’t occur to him until later that night the significance of her Freudian slip when she called him Dad. It wasn’t a big deal to Old Ben- he had a bit of that two-kids-and-a-picket-fence vibe, he’d admit- but his quick dismissal to call him “whatever sounded right” had been met with a smile a little too thankful.
One thing led to another- “another” meaning the little secret he was sleeping on cardboard again tonight- and she generously offered her room up at the Wrangler.
“Didn’t your dad ever tell you not to trust strange men?” he had joked.
“Are you saying you’re a strange man, Dad?” she had replied. He laughed, and she winked, and he offered to sleep on the couch, and she kissed him before she got the door open.
The rest, they say, is history- even if it was a bit blurry now.
They both knew the drill. You kiss, rip each other’s clothes off, and pretend “knowing the drill” meant you knew the first thing about the other person. They surprised each other, him when she nipped his ear and said “Do you want me to suck your cock?”, and her when he replied “Why don’t you lay back and let dear Old Dad take care of you?” She grinned without even thinking about how much she hated her smile.
So, maybe a daddy kink wasn’t just for golddiggers (she had the caps to buy them both onto the Strip several times over, while Ben slept in alleys most nights) and girls with daddy issues (her father sounded better than his, which was saying something). Ben obliged, teasing his finger up and down her slit- but not pushing in just yet, not until she was good and ready. She was already whimpering and flushed, pushing her pelvis against him, so he dipped one in ever-so-slowly, and that little moan was just adorable as she twitched around that one finger, tight and wet. He rocked in and out of her gently, licked from one side of her labia to the other and flicked his tongue over the clit. He pulled the hood back with his thumb, but even his breath had her twitching then, too sensitive. He took it into his mouth, shielded by the hood, and laved at it while he slipped another finger in. Erin groaned, and bit her lip, and balled her fist up in the sheets, so Ben rubbed her clit with his left hand and twisted in and out of her with his right because he had this thing about getting a woman off before he ever got inside of her, and he really, really wanted to be inside of her. Erin came with a squeak- an honest to God squeak- legs shaking, and she was barely finished with “Thank you, Daddy” when he sheathed himself inside of her, one long stroke.