Daddy's Game by Normandie Alleman

about your trip,” he said.
    “The opening was incredible. I met so many wonderful people: other artists, patrons, important art gallery owners, even a stuffy old art critic. The food was great, the hotel was lovely.”
    “How ‘bout the plane ride?” he winked.
    “Wonderful. But you don’t need to spoil me like that. I can take a regular flight. Bump me up to first class if you must, but you don’t need to charter a jet like that!”
    She waved away his grand gesture with protest, but he could see by the way her cheeks flushed with pleasure that she enjoyed the five-star treatment.
    “Fine. We’ll save that for special occasions, but this was a special occasion. It made me sad I couldn’t be there with you, babygirl, so I had to do something extra for you.”
    She placed a hand over his. “The seven humongous bouquets of roses would have been more than enough.”
    “Did you count how many there were?”
    “Of course. Eighty-seven, just like your number. I texted you but I wasn’t sure if you got it.”
    He ran a hand over his head and shook his dreads. “Girl, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the chance to check. Been so busy. Coach is really putting us through our paces this year, and the pressure is on .”
    “I was afraid of that. I know you want to be good, but don’t kill yourself over it,” she said, worry wrinkling her forehead.
    “Don’t you worry about that. Now that I’ve got my girl here, it’s time for some R&R.” He touched her knee under the table and lowered his voice. “You wearing underwear?”
    She looked around and saw they were alone in the room. “No. You asked me not to, Daddy.”
    “Good, because Daddy wants to play a game.”
    Her eyes twinkled, telling him she loved playing Daddy’s games.
    “What is it?”
    “It’s called ‘How Wet Can She Get?’”
    Her lips parted as if she were going to speak, but she remained silent.
    “Let’s get started. I want you to go into the bathroom and finger yourself with two fingers while you count to fifty. Then I want you to make little circles on your little clit while you count to fifty. Do it three times, the whole thing. Then come back and we’ll see how well you’ve done.”
    “Yes, sir,” she said and pushed her chair back.
    He knew his instructions would get her juices flowing. Her half-closed eyelids and slowed breathing gave her away. His cock twitched at the image he conjured in his mind of her perched in a bathroom stall playing with herself exactly as he’d ordered her to.
    While she was gone, he paid the bill and left the waiter a sizable tip. When she entered the private room, he beckoned to her.
    Lifting her hands to his nose, he gave her a disapproving look. “These hands don’t smell like they’ve been in your pussy. Have you been a bad girl? Did you do what Daddy asked you to?”
    She tugged to get her hands back, but he held on, gripping them tighter.
    “I washed them, Daddy! You didn’t say I shouldn’t.”
    “True. So that’s why they smell of lavender instead of your delicious little cunt.”
    She nodded. “I did what you asked,” she hissed, looking around to be sure they were still alone.
    “I’ll be the judge of that.”
    Ever so slowly, he ran a hand up under that tantalizing blue dress. With no panties to impede his progress, he felt her arousal present on her thighs and inserted a digit into her churned-up channel. She was wet. Ready for whatever he wanted to do to her.
    Not only did her dampness bring his cock to life, but her obedience gave him great satisfaction. It was a heady experience to have such an enchanting and accomplished woman do his bidding, and he tilted his head in approval.
    He removed his finger, now coated in her slick fluid.
    “Lick this off for Daddy,” he rasped.
    She wrinkled her nose, but opened her luscious pink lips, took his finger into her mouth, and ran her velvet tongue around it.
    He plucked his finger from her mouth. “That’s right, babygirl. I like to