Here’s some more of the second Detective Daddy story, Detective Daddy and the Man with the Golden Bum.

In case you missed it:

• Part 1
• Part 2

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Part Three of Five

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Sweetheart’s Diary, 9/2/14

Daddy’s thick finger pressed between my legs, teasing me ever so slightly. His whole hand was tucked into my panties, wider than there was room for, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Be careful, Daddy,” I whispered, my hands on his shoulders.

“I will, sweetheart.” My palm bore down just above her clit and she squirmed. “But I think you’ll be ready before you know it.”

“My Daddy always makes me ready.”

He grinned at me and, with his free hand, pulled down the shoulder of my tank top. It stretched (probably completely out of shape) and my right breast came out; in an instant his mouth was on it, finding my nipple and flicking his tongue against it as he moved his finger back and forth, still just teasing me, but matching his movements.

He was right. It didn’t take long until his finger was moving easily, sliding almost inside but pulling back. I buried my face in his hair and held onto him with both hands as he touched me, the heat rising from between my thighs to warm my belly and spread through my chest. I wished he could pinch my other nipple (especially when he dug his teeth into my right one, hard enough to make me gasp), but his right hand was making me squirm and his left was around my waist, fingers pressed against the bruises on my hip.

“Please, Daddy,” I whispered against his hair. “Please!”

He stopped biting me long enough to speak. “Please what, sweetheart?”

I felt the heat flood my cheeks. It was too light outside to say what I wanted; I felt much more comfortable in the dark when it came to telling Daddy to do things. But I knew my Daddy, and he would stop if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Inside,” I managed, trying not to beg. “Please!”

Almost before the words were out, Daddy’s finger had become more insistent. He’d adjusted his palm to press directly against my clit, and he was doing some sort of pinching motion with his hand that rubbed it as he crooked his finger along my pussy. 

“Come for Daddy, sweetheart.” He said it unexpectedly, his voice rough, and just as unexpectedly he dug his teeth into the side of my breast, hard enough to make me yelp. The pain plus his hand plus his fingertip was enough to bring me to the edge, and as I felt the first bit of his finger inside me I let out a broken cry and came for my Daddy. It wasn’t as hard as it could be, but it was nice, and it left me tingling.

And much wetter, which was what Daddy’d had in mind in the first place. He rocked his hand and crooked his finger and I felt my pussy stretch around him. It was a different kind of stretching than when he’d used his finger to get my bottom ready for him; I was made for this, made to take Daddy here, and he knew it. Plus, he knew where to find the right spot inside of me, and when he pushed hard against it I felt myself throb in reply. “Daddy…”

He kissed the bite mark on the side of my breast. “Just Daddy?”

I admit I was a little confused at that, and it broke the rhythm. I looked down at him, feeling myself frown a bit. “‘Just’?”

“The way you were talking earlier today,” he said, brushing his finger over my g-spot, “it sounded like you wanted Detective Daddy.”

His finger was very distracting, but I forced myself to carry on. “I do, but I also want regular Daddy.”

“‘Regular’ Daddy?” He half-smiled. “Is that all I am?”

I slapped his shoulder, mock-hurt by his words. “You know you’re more than that.”

His finger pressed hard on my g-spot and my head lolled back. He probably said something like “I damn well better be,” but I don’t recall exactly what it was because he was doing that thing where his finger basically manhandled my g-spot, pushing from side to side, and I lost control.

This orgasm was much, much bigger. But it was tiny compared to the one that came next, after he added a second finger and curled them both hard against that same spot. That one covered my vision with black sparkles and left me gasping for breath.

*

When I came back to myself, Daddy’s fingers were still inside me, but he wasn’t moving them. I was quivering inside, all my muscles tingling, and he had me cradled in his arms. I loved that even though I was tall and curvy, he was big enough to do that. “Hi, Detective Daddy” I whispered against his shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He kissed my hair, and when I leaned back, my forehead. “You want me to look into the Man with the Golden Bum, don’t you.”

He didn’t sound like he was asking a question, but I knew that’s what it was. “I wanna know.” My voice was little; it got that way when he held me like this. “Can you find out for me, Daddy?”

“I can try.” He crooked his fingers a tiny bit and I gasped. “Will my little assistant be a good helper?”

I nodded. “I promise, Daddy.”

“Well, then,” he said, rocking his fingers and brushing my g-spot, “Detective Daddy will take the case.” He smiled when he heard me moan and added, “in a few minutes.”

#

Case File 002: The Man with the Golden Bum

9/2/14

TV shows make investigations by private detectives look fun, fast, and cool, but in reality that’s not at all the case. Finding someone who doesn’t want to be found takes a lot of work, even for someone like me, who specializes in internet security. I have access to a lot of tools similar to what private detectives use, but, just like them, I have to have information to go on.

That night, Tara and I sat at our laptops at the dining room table. We started by logging into our Kinkster accounts and going through all the posts we could find about the Man with the Golden Bum. Each bit of information was put into a shared document, and then, when we were done, we switched back to our own accounts and did it all again.

It took two hours to finish, and by then it was bedtime. “But Daddy,” Tara said as I closed her laptop, “we’re not finished. What if–“

“It’ll keep until tomorrow,” I said. “And little girls need their sleep.”

Tara ducked her head. Truthfully I probably could’ve kept going — I sleep less than she does — but it wouldn’t have been fair. And anyway, I had other things on my mind. After this afternoon, I’d made dinner while she relaxed on the couch; she’d been too tired for us to do anything more, especially after how many orgasms she had. I’d had an almost-painful erection, but I was good at waiting.

So I sent Tara upstairs and did a quick walk-through of the main floor, making sure the door was locked, everything was turned off, and the downstairs air conditioner was at the right temperature. I also used the bathroom so that, when I got up to our bedroom, I could undress and sit on the bed and wait for Tara to finish in the bathroom — she was brushing her teeth when I got there.

She was naked when she emerged, and it was almost enough to distract me from my plans. My beautiful Tara, all smiles and curves, her full breasts marked from my teeth and her amazing hips imprinted with my fingers, and if I didn’t say something she’d walk right past me and lie down in bed and wait for me to come kiss her.

“Over here, sweetheart.”

She got a quizzical look, her lips pursing a bit, but she did as I said. The moment she was close enough, I opened my legs so she could step between them and I could put my arms around her, hugging her, her breasts warm and smooth on my face where I buried it against her. She was the perfect height for this, the perfect height for me to kiss the curve of her breasts while she held my head against her chest. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, in that tone that went straight from my ears to my cock.

She knew it, too; she felt me get hard and press upward against her leg, and she shifted a little so that my cock could arch upward. “On your knees,” I said against her skin. I felt my cheeks burn a little — 45 years old, married twice, my sweet girl’s Daddy dom, and I still have trouble asking for that.

Fortunately, Tara understood how difficult it was for me to say that out loud and she pulled away so she could kneel for me. I leaned forward, took her face in my hands, and kissed her; it started soft at first, but one hand slipped around back into her hair while the other moved down to her throat, and then the kiss became insistent. She moaned into my mouth, one hand holding tight to my right leg and the other coming up to take hold of my cock.

That got a moan out of me, and she drank it down and smiled against my mouth. When the kiss ended, she gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Daddy likes?”

I put my hand over hers and together we stroked my cock. “Daddy likes very much.” Tara’s hands felt amazing no matter where she touched me; after years of hating my body, she’d helped me to realize how much I loved it when she ran her palms over my chest and stomach, or how erotic it could be for her fingers to graze my thighs as I stroked my cock while we kissed.

But her hands weren’t what I had in mind. I brushed my thumb over Tara’s lips and she took it into her mouth, and this time it wasn’t for comfort. I felt my back arch as she worked my thumb with her lips and her tongue, my cock surging in our shared grip. “I don’t think you need much practice, sweetheart.”

She shook her head slowly, making sure not to release my thumb, and then came up on her knees. I took the hint and kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”

Another smile, and then my hand was free. I let go of hers, and she let go of me, and then she dipped her head and took my cock into her mouth.

Some men I knew worried about where their partners learned how to do this. I for one didn’t care. I knew that Tara had had lovers before me, but I also knew from our very first date that we would be together for the rest of our lives. Her sexual history hadn’t mattered a bit to me, and to this day it still doesn’t. She’s my sweet, kind, beautiful little girl, and I’m her Daddy, and when she does this all I can think about is trying my very best not to come because I don’t want it to end too quickly.

Tara, to her credit, knew exactly what effect she had on me; this many years together there weren’t many things we didn’t know about each other’s bodies. Her tongue was sweet heaven along the underside of my shaft, her mouth warm and wet, her throat tight, but my favorite part was still watching her lips stretched tight around the thickness of my cock. Her eyes were half-open but seeing nothing as she worked me as far down as she could, gulping and swallowing and breathing hard through her nose. I put my hand on her head and she nodded, and then I pushed on the back of her head until her lips found the base of my cock. The feeling of her throat pulsing around the head of my cock almost made me want to abandon all control and come right there, but I knew how long she could do this before she had to breathe and, before she did, I took hold of her hair and pulled her backward until I fell out of her mouth and she gasped. Her eyes when she looked up at me then were glassy and wide, and I couldn’t help but pull her up higher onto her knees and kiss her again, tasting her mouth as my cock throbbed against her chest.

We didn’t speak anymore at that point; we didn’t have to. Tara bent her head and took me halfway into her mouth in one go, her tongue concentrating on that one spot right behind the head. Once, early in our relationship, she’d discovered she could make me come just by working over that one spot, and she’d never forgotten. She was holding onto my right leg again, her other hand warm and gentle and high on my left thigh, her fingertips just brushing over my balls.

I felt her smile as best she could when I moaned; she knew it meant I was getting closer. Of course, it didn’t take moaning; she knew all the signs, knew that when my cock grew thicker and throbbed harder that I was almost there. I’d finally learned to stop warning her, too — I used to do it out of politeness, but it had become clear with time that she was my sweetheart, and that meant I didn’t have to be nice if I didn’t want to be.

Tara’s teeth grazed my shaft, and her tongue swiped hard against that spot, and I gave in. My muscles tightened in my stomach and ass and legs, and my lower back tingled, and suddenly her fingers were behind my balls, digging into my skin. The orgasm hit before I was quite ready for it and I grunted, hips surging, pushing deeper into Tara’s mouth as I came. She swallowed again and again as my cock throbbed and pulsed against her tongue, little moans barely forced out from her stretched lips, her breathing ragged and irregular, until I made that peculiar little noise that meant it was somehow starting to hurt.

Which was naturally her cue to suck hard at the head of my cock, taking all the come I had to offer, before leaning back with a supremely self-satisfied smile.

“You’re amazing,” I said. “You’re so, so amazing.”

Her smile broadened, more genuine now than ever, and she used my legs to brace herself as she got up to her feet. I pulled her close, pulled her down on top of me as I fell onto my back, and kissed her hard and deep, enough that my cock, trapped between our bodies and pushed up against the soft pliancy of her tummy, gave one last little pulse. “I love you, sweetheart,” I whispered.

“I love you, Daddy.” She booped my nose. “Even when you make me all squirmy from going down on you.”

“Oh, are you?” I felt an eyebrow lift. “Perhaps Daddy ought to do something about that.”

*

When I woke up around two to use the bathroom, Tara wasn’t there. I found her on the couch, naked, a blanket spread out underneath her and her laptop on a pillow on her lap. “What’s up, sweetheart? Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I knelt beside the couch and rested my head on her shoulder. “You wouldn’t have. And I’d have been glad to keep you busy in bed.”

Tara kissed my hair. “You’re sweet, but daddies need sleep too.”

My turn to shake my head. “I’m fine. What are you doing?”

I felt her muscles tense as she tabbed back over from Facebook to our shared document. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not. I just thought we were working on it together.”

“We are. But I was curious.”

“So am I.” I turned the computer a little so I could read the screen. “People are still posting, huh?”

“Yeah, but it’s died down a little.”

“Sweetheart, it’s the middle of the night.”

She shrugged, and then said, “do you think we have enough data?”

“Let’s find out.” I got up and turned to go get my laptop, and Tara grabbed my butt — I was as naked as she was. I glanced back at her. “Or I could fuck you right here on the couch instead.”

Her expression was pained. “I think I’m too sore, Daddy. I’m sorry. But I really want to.”

My cock stirred at that. I loved my sweetheart, but I was also a sadist. She was a masochist, and we fit perfectly like that, but sometimes my body still responded inappropriately when my subconscious thought it might have a chance to be let off its chain.

I leaned down, tilted Tara’s chin up, and kissed her gently. “Daddy can be sweet.”

She reached over and wrapped her hand around my cock, which suddenly became much harder. “Let’s see what happens after we use your computer. Okay, Daddy?”

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More tomorrow!