Daddy Greg

I was both empowered and turned on by his words, "cocksucker" all I could think of on my train ride home. "Cocksucker," it just made me smile.

It also made my dick scream for attention.

As soon as I got home I went directly to my bedroom, shucked my clothes and grabbed my hard dick and blew a load so quickly I couldn't catch my breath to scream. I just grunted out a word,

"Daddy."

He's there before I arrive and he stays long after everyone leaves and I never knew why. I think I have that one figured out. He likes to play with his prey before he eats it.

"Oh god, I'm next," I said out loud after licking cum from my fingers.

The best part about my daddy story is that I can tell you from the start that he knew exactly what he wanted...and he went after it.

Every day I pass by his desk. Every day I look at him and smile, I usually get a grin in return but today was different. I got a wink. Of course this wink came from a very handsome bear of a man. A man who thrills me to no end in a rich fantasy of lust and service.

The funny thing, he's only a year older than my twenty nine. Really, you'd think a years' difference wouldn't mean much at twenty nine. You are most certainly a man, capable and culpable!

His name is Greg.

He's about six feet tall, broad shouldered and not exactly thin. He's more of a lineman gone ever so slightly past prime. Stubble casts a shadow across a strong jaw and cut chin, and curly brunette hair with only the slightness of unkempt due to a baseball cap. I think he must wear one and forget to comb when not at work.

I wonder how often he showers...but we'll save that for later.

I can smell him from about ten feet away, not his overt masculine odor, but his cologne. He puts it on like a fourteen year old sprays body spray when he hasn't showered in a week. Underneath that pungent waft I do get just a hint of musk. The kind of hint that says, "I go home and fuck my bitch stupid and don't give a hell to what I smell like and don't shower either."

Perhaps that's just my way of fantasizing about him. I imagine myself as his bitch and that my only job in the world is to be available for each and every desire my daddy has that I must satisfy.

"Daddy Greg."

Sometimes it comes out as a purr when I masturbate. I can't help but let my tight hole twitch when I say it, Daddy Greg, the boner of a lifetime all rolled into one manly package. The perfect example of all that is right in a man, the mix of features you come to associate with desiring the male sex.

This man, this daddy, this Greg...he won a fight within me I didn't even realize was there for the taking.

I imagine his breath on my neck, the smell of his dusty truck and un-brushed mouth after a long day at work. The odor of coffee and sweat that mixes with his natural musk...mother fuck is it overwhelming just having him stand behind me...

---

"Cocksucker?" he asks.

"Yes daddy." I reply.

"Come serve your daddy, I've had a long day and I need my cocksucker's mouth."

"Yes daddy." I can only imagine his face, imagine the way he is looking at me. Am I a piece of meat? Am I something he detests? I have no idea, I only know he is standing behind me.

He moves closer and I can feel the heat coming from his massive frame.

The smell, the closeness, the...smell. That smell! Fuck but I can't think of any other way to describe the smell as anything other than a man. It's such a combination of odors. Man stink, masculinity, alpha...whatever you want to call it. It is Daddy Greg's smell.

"I'm lucky." I whisper.

"What's that cocksucker?"

"I am lucky, daddy."

"That's right cocksucker. You are lucky. You are lucky I pretended to ignore you. You are lucky I never said more than hello. You are a lucky cocksucker in that I never even let slip how much I would use you."

"Yes, daddy, I am lucky."

"What are you going to do for me, cocksucker?"

"I want to please you daddy. I want to be your bitch. I want to be your hole, I want to be your cocksucker and cum bucket, sir."

"Good boy" he said.

Standing behind me he wrapped one long arm around my neck and pulled me to his chest, still facing away I had no choice but to be trapped by this man, this daddy. I slid easily against his body, I am only about an inch shorter so my head had already turned to one side as his too moved and accommodated me.

"Do you want me to grind against you, cocksucker? Do you think you have earned that privilege?"

"I don't know, daddy." I said.

"You don't know?"

He raised his voice and announced to the empty stillness of the room, "Well you better know, bitch, you better learn your place is at my feet. Taking only what I deem necessary to give you."

I fell to my knees without a second thought. I knew what was going to happen even though I'd never been with Greg, even though my only knowledge of submission was gay fetish porn.

He spat in my face. He leaned over, and with the hand he used to pull me towards him smeared his saliva all over my face.

He opened my mouth and spat on my tongue. He put his fingers in my mouth and pushed his spit to the back of my throat. Pushing two fingers farther he made me gag.

"Shut up cocksucker and take your punishment. You know you wanted me to grind my hard dick against you, you wanted to feel a real man take you without even removing your clothes. And yet you acted like it was a joke."

He spat into my face again and again until I was soaked in his spit. He just looked down and grinned...

"Clean yourself up cocksucker, you look like a dog who got his head stuck in a toilet."

"Yes, daddy."

I went into the hall bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and to my surprise I was wearing a small smile. I had no idea I could even think of smiling at this moment. It never even crossed my brain that I was enjoying this.

Something deep down was being fed, something hiding, something I couldn't put into words but this man purely by action had awoken.

I was a cocksucker, I was a loathsome bitch fit only for service and to be used. I had no respect because I hadn't earned any.

Daddy Greg gave me a very powerful weapon, the power to fully understand what yes and yes sir meant.

---

That fantasy is just the first thing that comes to mind.

Of course by this time I'm furiously beating my hard cock, no rhythm, no restraint, just need. The need to feel something, to feel a little bit of the thrill I associate with just being around him. That wonderful release of all sense and control, that moment when you only want to be his hole and mouth, the object he can use to satisfy his needs.

I can count the number of times I have fucked my hand and fingered my hole thinking about this man, it's somewhere at twenty-thousand...give or take a hundred.

If only he knew how I felt. If only he knew that I could be everything he needed and at any time he needed it.

If only he knew how often I practiced bouncing up and down on his massive dick, only making the noises he asks for, whatever they are. The desperation I have to just give him all of me, to take his seed, to give him my all and then some just for his satisfaction. To be taught by him, to learn from him. To become a better cocksucker and a better man because of it, this wasn't about submission, it was about redemption.

If I can learn to satisfy this man, I can walk the walk and expect the same satisfaction of others. There will be no hesitation, just pride. The pride that comes from serving a man who only seeks to make me more than I am, a cocksucker. I will have proved my worth to this man and by extension to the world.

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Author's note: I have fallen into the habit of beginning a series without ending a previous one. This one will be the first attempt to continue.

J