Esther
“On the deck?” There’s a squeak to my voice when I ask this.
“On the deck. It’s easy to wash off,” Daddy says.
I lick my dry lips and nod.
“Bring everything up here,” he says.
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, knowing he likes it when I do.
I blow out a breath as I head below deck to gather up the things he asked me to gather, a towel, some water, and the items we brought back from the restaurant where we had breakfast with Mom this morning, whipped cream and maple syrup.
The anticipation of getting to Channel Islands National Park has nothing to do with the island itself. It all has to do with Nick, or rather Daddy, fulfilling his promise to finally take my virginity.
I know it will hurt the first time. My grandmother pounded that into my head for years. But she also said it hurts every time and from what I’ve seen and read, that’s not true. I feel like I need to prove her wrong.
Daddy’s made me feel so good. Better than I ever thought anyone would make me feel. So I’m going to trust him rather than Grandmother. He says it does hurt the first time, but only the first time. After that, it should feel as good as everything else we’ve done. If it feels half as good as having his tongue or his finger inside me, I can’t wait.
I move back up on deck, carrying everything against my bare breasts. Even though we’re here on the pretense of exploring the Channel Islands National Park, I doubt we’ll step foot off the boat. Daddy has instituted a no clothing rule on the boat.
We’re anchored farther out than most of the other boats, not that there are many. But we’re still close enough that the others can easily distinguish that I’m naked, not in a peach bikini.
“Lay the towel on the deck,” Daddy says when he sees me.
I set the syrup I just warmed, and the whipped cream I took from the refrigerator and the water aside before spreading the towel on the ground. Even though Daddy hasn’t specifically said, I know what’s going to happen here. He’s going to turn me into his own personal breakfast.
“Good girl. Now, lie down, baby.”
I’m relieved to do as he commanded. Spread out on the deck, no one can see me unless they move by on a much taller boat.
Daddy paces a circle around me, telling me to spread my legs as he pushes his board shorts down and off. His erection springs free, flying up to slap his lower abdomen.
I bite my lip as he settles between my spread thighs. His gaze sharpens as he looks at my most intimate center. I try not to squirm as his nostrils flare and he licks his lips.
Reaching out to the side, Daddy plucks up the syrup. “You definitely look good enough to eat,” he says as he dips a fingertip into the amber liquid.
With his finger, he dots each of my nipples. Bending over me, Daddy pulls one contracted tip into his mouth. He sucks hard and tugs. My back arches, trying to follow his mouth as it pops free and moves to my other nipple.
“I could do this all day,” he whispers against my skin. “The syrup just makes you taste even sweeter.”
He pulls back and holds the little cup of syrup over my chest. He tilts it and a stream of warm liquid hits the skin that’s wet from his mouth and cold from the breeze blowing over it. I suck in a breath at the change of temperature.
Daddy drizzles more down my torso. As he gets closer and closer to my center, I shift and twitch and lift my hips up off the towel in anticipation.
Using his fingers, he spreads me open with one hand as he pours warm syrup on that magic little button, my clit. I arch and moan as it spreads and tickles over my sensitive skin.
Daddy’s mouth follows the path that his hand took as it poured the syrup, first over my breasts, then my torso. He swirls the tip of his tongue into my belly button, making me giggle. But the laughter dies away with the first rasp of his tongue over my clit.
I moan and squirm and try to lift myself closer to him. His fingers hold me open again, baring more of that magic little button and somehow making it more sensitive as well. All the touching and teasing has pulled me so close to the edge, not to mention how much I enjoyed swallowing Daddy’s ejaculate while listening to his moans of pleasure.
One long, thick finger presses into me. When I clamp down around it looking for more friction, Daddy groans. The vibration and the hard suck that follows it what sends me flying.
My hands grip Daddy’s hair, holding him against me as I pump my hips against his hand, his mouth, his tongue. I thrust up toward him, up toward the open sky over and over as I pinch my eyes closed tight and concentrate fully on the ecstasy pulsing through me with each racing beat of my heart.
When I finally unfist my hand from Daddy’s hair, he pulls back with a cocky smile on his face.
“That’s one,” he says.
“One?” I pant. “What does that mean? I thought you were going to fuck me.”
He laughs. “Don’t pout, baby. Daddy’s going to fuck you so good. But I need to make sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before I try to stretch you around my cock.”
My inner muscles tighten at the thought. “So I need to be wetter?”
“I haven’t finished my breakfast yet,” he says. “Let’s play with the whipped cream. By then, I’ll be so hard, so ready, that I won’t be able to hold back from splitting you open.”
His words have my breath catching. It sounds painful, but I know pleasure will follow and I know that Daddy’s worth it.