On the drive home, we pass the time by listening to music and talking. Important things, routine things, silly things -- there is no subject out of bounds for us. We have about a three hour drive before we arrive home. As we have been up since quite early this morning, the lull of the tires against the asphalt, the crooning of Sinatra and the comfort of your voice has conspired to lull me to sleep. You glance over and notice that I am dozing off. Your hand brushes my hair from my eyes. You smile and let me nap.
Once home, you direct me to shower and then go directly to bed. I inquire about our bags, unpacking and the like, but you will not here of it. I offer to wait up, you decline it with a kiss to my forehead. You need to answer a few emails and tell me you will be up shortly.
Freshly showered, the last bit of energy is quickly abandoning me. I grab a sleep shirt and put it on. Although you decline my offer, I grab a book, sit in the bedroom easy chair and attempt to read for a few minutes in hopes you will soon be done. My eyes are so heavy. Perhaps if I close them for just a second….
Done checking your emails, you come up to prepare for bed. Noticing the bed is empty, you look over. You smile a bit and remove the book that has fallen askew. After switching off the lamp, you scoop me up from the chair and place me onto the bed. I moan sleepily, but I am so tired I remain fast asleep. I never realize that I am in bed now, nor that you have left me to shower yourself.
You re-enter the bedroom and I am exactly as you left me. Taking a seat beside me, you lean in and whisper in my ear, “You were supposed to go straight to bed, baby girl. You wanted to stay awake, then awake you shall be.” A mischievous grin on your face, you raise my shirt a bit and reposition my legs so they are duly spread. You approach from the foot of the bed. Sliding between my legs, you manage to put my legs over your shoulders. I have made it easy for you to implement your deliciously wicked plan since I am sans panties. Slowly you kiss my perfectly smooth skin. I begin to stir but you are hardly done.
Your fingers begin to probe my core and I come out of my sleep. The come hither motion you make with your finger inside me makes me gasp and makes the room feel like it’s floating. The flicking off your tongue around my lips and I am fully awake but have been robbed of speech. Fingers, lips, mouth, tongue - I am about to explode. “Are you ready, baby girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.” I know better than to climax without permission, but I fear I can’t take much more.
“Didn't Daddy tell you not to wait up?” you ask while thrusting two fingers inside me.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry…please Daddy…I can’t. Please!”
The sensations are taking over me now. Lips kissing secret places. Tongue invading private places. “Oh..., ahh..., Daddy...” Though I can’t tell when it happened, I am now being betrayed by my vibrator. You are now increasing the intensity. Masterfully, your tongue and fingers bring me to the edge…and then back away. I writhe and pant and moan. You take the vibrator and slowly begin teasing me. I grab handfuls of the blanket and arch my back.
You take this moment to thrust your tongue inside the volcano erupting between my legs as the hot lava now flows freely. With every buzz, the vibrator pushes me further and further into the mire of ecstasy. An enervated, “Daddy” is all I can muster. The vibe hits my sweet spot and my body begins to thrash. I am panting and crying out. One last thrust of your tongue and I begin to convulse. Any second now, the volcano will erupt. I fight to contain it by grabbing the blankets. Amidst my laboured breathing, I hear you say, “When I give you a direction, I expect you to follow it. You will not come.” You place you finger inside me, place the vibe right on the spot that you’ve come to know so well, and I tremble and shake and omigod, I can’t hold back…and just as I see the white light of climax approach…
I have a convulsion of sensory overload from what almost was. You smile, kiss the forehead of my now trembling body as I try to regulating my breathing. You turn me over on my belly and stroke my hair as I slowly begin to catch my breath.
“Consider that your punishment, baby girl. Orgasm, denied.”
An almost imperceptible smile crosses your face. "But, if it makes you feel any better, there is something you can have,"you say, reaching for the hairbrush on the bedside table...