They did not make me wait until the lights were off.
Night came and Grant pointed at the living room couch I had already ruined once. Cole shut the blinds. Rhys locked the front door like my father was going to walk in from the airport instead of from a hotel three states away.
“Polo off.”
I took it off.
I was already wet. I had been wet since breakfast, walking around the house tasting them, obeying the no-hands rule until my skin felt too small. Grant sat first and pulled me into his lap facing him. He dragged the head of his c**k through me, slow, mean, and I tried to sink down. He held my hips.
“Ask properly.”
“Please f**k me, Daddy.”
He let me drop.
The stretch punched a cry out of me. Thick. Deep. The man who had spanked me filling me to the root on my father’s couch. He held
