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h1 {
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And What I Wish I Could Do to Him
It always starts with that voice.
Low. Smooth. Just a little tired. Like he’s been carrying the weight of the day until he hears me say “Hey, Daddy.”
And just like that… everything melts.
I ask him if he missed me. I already know the answer. I can hear it in his breath—shallow, sharp, aching.
I tell him to stroke it slow.
To wrap his hand around his thick dick, and just feel what I do to him. I guide every stroke like a melody… faster, slower… now hold it, Daddy… don’t you dare cum yet.
I love how obedient he is. He listens so well.
The Call Ends… But the Fantasy Begins
When he cums—because of course he does—I always stay quiet for a moment. Listening to him moan makes me so wet.
I imagine him there… muscles twitching, body shaking, trying not to moan too loud.
I hang up gently. Just a soft click. But my mind doesn’t stop.
I close my eyes and pretend he didn’t call.
I pretend… he came over instead.
I imagine him walking in, hungry, horny and dominant—but it’s my turn to take control.
I tie his wrists gently behind the chair and slip the blindfold over his eyes.
“You’ve been so good for me lately,” I whisper, lips brushing his earlobe.
“But now… it’s my turn to play.”
My nails drag lightly down his chest. I straddle his lap, not letting him feel me just yet.
“You don’t get to see me. You only get to feel. And listen.”
I kiss his neck. Once.
Then I whisper: “Stroke it for me again, Daddy.”
Pushed to the Edge
My hand wraps around his cock again—slow. Torturously slow.
I whisper filth right into his ear, my lips wet and teasing, letting him feel every word like a tongue dragging down his spine.
“You don’t cum until I say so. You hear me?”
He nods, jaw clenched, breath ragged.
I tighten my grip and twist just a little.
“Good boy.”
And when I finally say “Now”—
He explodes.
Rope-bound. Blindfolded. Breathless.
Mine.
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