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Take me, Daddy

Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 1

by L.A. Cox


'You want me to take your innocence? Make you mine?'

I'm lying under him, on the sofa my mother bought, in the family room I played in as a child. He looms over me, his eyes boring into mine.

I'd said I'd do anything for him. I'd said he could do anything to me. Anything he wanted.

He's waiting. His eyes are narrowed. His stubble grazes my face. His scent is engine oil and aftershave.

'Yes,' I whisper. 'Yes.'


'You want to what!'

My friend Sam squeals so loudly I think the whole street can hear her through my open bedroom window. Even over Mr Nelson's lawnmower, racketing away in next door's garden. Even over the kids playing in our narrow rundown street.

Maybe even over Tom's Harley, if he was right below my window parking up, unstraddling his bike, his jeans faded and snug against his thighs...

'Sssh!' I hiss. There's no way I want anyone else to hear this. It's taken me six months to screw up the courage even to say it out loud.

She doesn't listen.

'What the fuck, Toni?' she screeches. 'You want to fuck your dad?'

Outside my window, the lawnmower stops.

Sam and I are sprawled on my bed, among the scattered teddies that still sleep with me even though I'm eighteen and off to university in less than three months.

It's only noon but we're drinking beer, filched from Tom's stash in the fridge. I'd hooked them out an hour ago when Sam had arrived on the doorstep with the day of from her summer job and with devilment in her eyes. What the hell, we only finished our exams a few days ago, we deserve a treat.

And I deserve a Very Big Treat Indeed. One I've been thinking about, obsessing about, for such a long time it's driving me crazy. One I haven't said aloud before, even to myself. But then, after two beers, I do. I say it.

I tell her I'm desperate to fuck my stepfather, Tom.

Her jaw hangs open and she stares at me. I look at my beer can, my heart thumping.

'Toni, that's gross,' Sam says. 'He's your dad.'

But it's not gross, I think. Not if she could see Tom the way I do.

Six feet four of tattooed muscle, built like a rugby player, exuding sex and man and cock so strongly that sometimes I think I'm going to, have to, jump him then and there.

The tattoos snaking up and down his arms. The way his thick muscles move when he's kneading dough to make his olive bread. His dark brown eyes, narrowed and penetrating when he knows I'm not telling him the truth. His frown of concentration when he's working on his bike – and Christ I want to kiss that cleft on his forehead, press myself against his chest, kissing him all over and dropping to my knees to take his cock in my eager mouth, sucking him dry, giving myself to him—

I've never had sex before, but I know, I just know, I'll be able to fuck him until he can't stand up. He won't know what's hit him.

I try, falteringly, to explain some of this to Sam.

'I've only got a few months until I go to uni,' I say. 'I've wanted him for so long, it's all I can think about. I was thinking about it during my exams, for fuck's sake.'

'French paper 2!' she crows. 'I knew there was something up!'

Yeah, French paper 2. And paper 3, and paper 1, and all the papers for history and English and philosophy, and all the mock exams, and all the time leading up to the lot.

'I have to do it!' I say. 'We've lived in this house together for three years and I only have a few months left before I have to leave him forever! Someone has to take my virginity and I want it to be him.'

'But he's your dad!' Sam says again. 'It's wrong, it's sick.'

'I don't care,' I say, forgetting to keep my voice down so Mr Nelson and anyone else won't be scandalised. 'I need to fuck him and I need to do it soon!'

And then there's a knock at my bedroom door.

Sam and I jump so much I'm surprised we don't hit the ceiling. Teddies go flying from my pink duvet.

'Toni? Are you in there?'

Fuck fuck fuck it's Tom. I jump to my feet and snatch up the empty beer cans, throwing them under the bed. I try to be calm, unfazed, but I'm about to pass out. How much did he hear!

My bedroom door opens, just a crack.

'Everything OK in there?'

'Yes!' Sam and I both squeal. 'Fine!' I squeal.

We may as well be holding up a sign saying EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE HERE AT ALL. The door opens wider and there he is, my sexy as fuck stepfather, looming in the doorway, all tatts and muscle and the smell of engine oil.

My glance inadvertently goes down to his crotch, the jeans with – yes, there it is – the denim rubbed thin where his cock rests.

I feel slightly dizzy.

That cock won't be resting for much longer if I have my way, I think, and that's it – I can't help it – I blush from my neck to the roots of my hair. With difficulty, I wrench my gaze away.

He eyes me, leaning against the door. I have the sudden conviction he knows exactly what I'm thinking, what filthy thoughts are shooting through my horny little mind. My blush deepens.

'Um,' I say. 'I didn't hear you come home.'

'Evidently,' he says, and what the fuck does that mean, does it mean he heard me? 'The bike broke down a few blocks away, so I had to push it.'

I just stare at him, unable to think of anything else to say.

'Are you all right?' he asks. Then, before I can answer, he says, his eyes narrowed,

'You don't feel bad, do you?'

And before I can even gather a thought to even think about how to answer that, because had he meant bad like bad, what the fuck, he's gone down the hallway, his voice drifting back something about lunch.


Sam has scarpered. Doesn't want to stay for lunch, has to go back home, busy busy, chores and errands and etc and etc. I'm not fooled. She's fled because she thinks it's pretty obvious that Tom overheard us.

I think so too.

I feel a bit ill.

It was never meant to be like this. I hadn't even liked him at first. He'd come roaring into my and my mum's life three years ago, after Mum met him at the sleazy bar where she worked. Somehow he'd seen something that made him want to stick around.

He'd brought order to our tatty house, where my mum was sometimes there and sometimes not and I never knew which. He stopped my mum drinking so much. He made her get out of bed and out of her bathrobe before noon. And he made me start attending regularly at school, and he kept it up even after Mum finally walked out on me, and us, eighteen months later.

I'd scowled at him, my fifteen-year-old self. Told him it was none of his business. Told him he wasn't even my dad. Told him to go fuck himself, and at that one he had smiled grimly and told me I could curse him all I wanted, I had a smart brain to match my smart mouth and I – was – going – to – school.

And I'd wanted to please him – I didn't know why – and so I'd gone, and after a bit I started to listen, and after another bit I started to learn. And alongside this slow burn, this new love of facts, and order, and learning, was a growing awareness of my stepfather, as a man.

And now, at eighteen, with Mum gone, and with only a tiny amount of time left – for ever – with us under the same roof, I want him so much my knees sometimes buckle with it. I want him to come to my bedroom some night. Tell me he's always loved me. That he can't go on without having me. Then he'll pick me up and gently lay me down on the bed, and slide his cock into me, again and again as he fills me over and over with his cum—

And maybe it's the beer, maybe it's the horn, maybe it's just the way his eyes narrowed when he looked at me from my bedroom doorway before, but I think Fuck it. It's time. I'm finally – finally! – going to make my move.

Ten minutes later, I drift downstairs. I'm dressed to kill.

Or at least to fuck.

I have on a black lace top I bought online months ago, never worn as it's too revealing. It's thin, wispy, and slashed to a V in front to show my stomach and most of my plump breasts. It's cut short too, leaving a gap of skin between my stomach and my denim shorts, so tight now they aren't really comfortable. But the shorts show off my long tanned legs, and with that and my full, ripe tits, that's all that matters. He won't be able to resist me. He can't.

My knees almost knocking, I move down the hallway and approach the kitchen. I push open the door. I see him, his back to me, chopping something for lunch. I know his face will have that look on it, the 100% focus it always has when he's doing something, whether it's making lunch or tinkering with the bike or doing the accounts for the repair shop he owns.

I wonder if he looks like that when he's fucking.

It's still my mum's décor, this kitchen. The living room's the same too, full of her kitschy ornaments and Keep Calm and Carry on cushions and – hilarious, this one – one of those tacky signs that says Home is Where the Heart is. She didn't stop to think of that before she packed a bag and left us a year and a half ago, me coming downstairs on a freezing January morning to a note saying simply 'Sorry'. I'd sobbed for hours and Tom had held me.

Maybe if I pretend I'm upset about something? Pretend to cry…?

He finishes what he's doing. I wait in the doorway, my knees almost buckling. Then he turns round.

He has a bowl of salad and some plates in his hands. They almost shatter to the floor when he sees me. But then he wipes his expression clean, pretending he just hasn't noticed that his daughter is right in front of him wearing practically nothing.

'Lunch is ready,' he says gruffly, setting the salad and plates on the table beside a platter of cold chicken and a thickly sliced loaf.

I know what I have to do.

'Would you like a beer?' I purr.

Without waiting for an answer, I sashay over and open the refrigerator door, taking the opportunity to pull my top down still further as I do so my tits are pretty much tumbling out. I grab a beer and thrust it in his gorgeous direction.

He takes it from me without a word. It hisses as he opens it. He swigs, deep, and sets it on the table.

'How about a glass?' I coo.

I bend down to get a tankard from the bottom shelf of the cupboard. I lean over just a little bit too far – oopsieright in front of him with my ass in the air.

His eyes are on me. I know it. I can feel them, looking at my ass. I just know.

I turn round and hand him the tankard. He pours the beer. I shimmy close to him to take the empty can, taking the chance to press myself against him.

'Toni,' he says. 'What the fuck are you doing?'

And I throw caution to the wind, take the bull by the horns, strike while the iron's hot and other clichés I certainly won't be using in my university degree: I drop the beer can to the floor and I push him against the wall.

Hungrily, I reach for his mouth with mine. His scent is oil and aftershave. Beer on his breath. Clean sweat and all, all man.

Oh fuck I need him so bad.

My words tumble out.

'I want you,' I rush, desperate and not caring how I sound. 'I've wanted you for ages, I love you, I want you to fuck me—'

'No!' he says.

He wrenches himself away from my hungry arms. He slams the tankard down on the table.

'Jesus, Toni,' he says. 'We can't do this, are you crazy?'

I ignore him. I press against him again. He allows it for a second or two, long enough for me to feel his hard-on through his jeans. I wriggle against him. I turn my mouth up to his.

Then we're kissing, a long, deep, hard kiss that without knowing it I've been waiting for all my life. I taste beer and cigarettes and a hint of coffee. I taste him.

Christ, he can kiss.

His lips bear down on mine. His tongue flickers, probing, around my mouth. He fists one hand in my hair, tightening his grip. My knees weaken.

He's gone. He leans against the wall, panting. He runs his hands through his hair, his stomach muscles curling.

'You're my daughter,' he snaps. 'I'm your dad. We're not doing this, it's wrong.'

I wriggle close to him again, against the kitchen wall. His cock, hard and insistent, strains against his jeans.

'You're not my biological dad,' I whisper. 'And at least one part of you doesn't think this is wrong—'

I kiss him again. I let my hand slide low. I stroke his cock through his jeans.

He moans slightly. Bold, I yank at the buckle of his jeans. I snap open the button.

I gently ease down the zip and—

Holy shit.

I've only seen cock in porn, the clips I devour late at night on my laptop, the volume turned down almost to nothing so Tom won't hear, my hand between my legs, fingering my wet pussy until I think I'm going to scream as I come, hard. But this. This, as it rises up out of his jeans, ready for action no matter what he says—

It's huge. Like really, really huge. Like it'll split me in half if he uses it on me, if he shoves it into me and fills me with it.

I know my eyes have widened. A wave of need crashes over me, so intense that I groan.

I stare at it, this beautiful, thick, hard, huge cock. I reach out, and I touch it, hefting it in my hand. It reaches way up past my wrist. Way up.

By instinct, I know what to do next. I drop to my knees. I rest my hand on his stomach, holding him against the wall.

I lean forward, eager, and I take my dad's beautiful cock straight into my mouth, all the way, into my throat. I'm gagging a bit but I don't care. He tastes divine. This is beautiful, this is amazing, I could do this all day—

I'm sprawling on the floor. Tom stands over me, angry, huge.

'I said no, Toni!' he shouts. 'I'm your dad, we're not doing this!'

I leap to my feet. I'm sobbing now.

'Please Tom, I want you,' I tell him, fast, urgent, my words tumbling over themselves. 'I need your cock in me. I need it” I want you to take my virginity, open me up, fill me up… please. I'll do anything. Anything you like.'

He's stuffed himself back into his jeans now, buttoning them up. He rebuckles his belt, looking at me. He says,

'You don't know what you're saying, little girl.'

And he's gone.


I cry in my bedroom for the rest of the afternoon. I'm mortified he's rejected me, but more than that I'm frustrated as hell. It doesn't seem fair that I've worked so hard, studied so intensely, said no to all the boys interested in me, been practically a fucking nun, and now that I'm gagging to lose my virginity the one man I want, my dad, won't have me.

I dip my fingers in my pussy, thinking an orgasm might help, but I'm too upset to even get close to coming. My cunt is soaked but I feel nothing.

I'll have a bath, I decide. That always makes me feel better no matter what type of shit day I've had. (Although admittedly I've never had a day where I begged my dad to fuck me and he turned me down).

I fill the tub with steaming hot water and add perfumed bubble bath. I strip off my sad, unsuccessful, slutty outfit and sink into the water. I'm going to wallow here, feel better, read some Jane Austen, plot my battle plan for later. He wants me, I know he does. A cock like that doesn't lie.

The door bursts open. I jump, water going everywhere. Sense and Sensibility sinks beneath the suds.

It's Tom. It's my stepdad.

Obviously he knows I'm bare because I'm in the bath, but he doesn't even seem to notice. He looms in the doorway, his eyes blazing.

I cower in the water, not having a fucking clue what's going on.

'I've thought about what you said, girl,' he says. 'What you – didin the kitchen.'


I wait. He doesn't say anything. He just looks at me. I'm about to pass out. I wait. He leans against the doorway. His eyes bore into mine. He's dragging it out like it's the fucking X Factor.

'I've decided to accept,' he says.




I'm getting cock! I'm getting HIS cock! I'm going to have him, at last!

Eager, slutty, gagging for cock, I go to clamber out of the bath.

He thrusts his hand onto my wet shoulder and shoves me back down. Water slops onto the floor.

'But,' he says, firmly, quietly.

I wait.

'There are conditions.'

I don't give a shit if his conditions involve me dancing the can-can down our ratty street dressed only in a scratchy red thong and swinging nipple tassels. I'm dying to give him what he wants. Anything he wants.

His eyes search mine.

'If we do anything,' he says, 'ifI call the shots. I'm completely in charge.'

'Yes—' I gasp, leaning forward again. He forces me back.

'I don't think you understand,' he says. 'I call all the shots. I do whatever I want with you, and you don't stop me. You'll be there to serve me, my needs, not yours. Do you agree?'

I'm almost sliding down the bath I'm so hot for him.

'Yes,' I gasp again. 'I'm yours. I'll do anything.'

He rises. He stares down at me, his eyes drilling into mine.

'You're sure? he asks.

'Yes,' I gasp. I don't care what it takes for him to fuck me. I need it so much I can feel my tits – and my clit – pulsing and throbbing.

'Then,' he says, 'I'll see you downstairs in ten minutes.'

I'm there in five.

I tiptoe into the living room, unsure what I'm going to see. What's going to happen to me. Whether it'll hurt. I've seen that cock, I bet it will.

And on the sofa – fuck! – is my dad, butt naked. His bare ass on the posh sofa my mum insisted on, managing to scrape the instalments every week from her booze money. I've dreamed about him on that sofa. I've slid my fingers in and out of my pussy on that sofa, thinking of him slamming into me, over and over.

He's already hard. Rock hard. He's idly playing with his cock, his taut, tough stomach on full show, tanned and smooth. His legs – oh, his legs. Thick and muscled, with bulging thighs that he lazily rests his strong broad forearms against while he moves his cock back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth, while I'm rooted to the spot, struck dumb.

'Come here,' he commands. And god help me I do.

I'm going to get fucked. By my DAD.

I tremble as he stares at me. His eyes narrow.

'I thought you'd know better than to come to me wearing a bathrobe,' he says. 'Lose it. Now.'

With shaking fingers, I untie my bathrobe. I let it drop, puddled, to the ground.

He studies me. My long, dark hair and wide brown eyes. My full tits. My rounded, woman's, stomach. My long legs. My bare feet, toenails painted just this morning in a deep whore red I hoped he'd notice.

And between my legs – my glistening pussy, aching for him.

His thumb strokes absently up and down his shaft. I can't tear my eyes away from it.

'Are you wet?' he says. 'I bet you are, you little whore. You've been gagging for this, I know you have...'

Of course I'm wet. My pussy is pulsing and it's so slick with my own juices that the tops of my thighs are tacky. I've never been this wet, never. My slit is soaked.

'Show me,' he orders, and I moan. I stumble closer to him. He reaches out and, fast, he grabs me by the wrist and hauls me to him. He parts me roughly with his other hand.

I quiver. A drop of my pussy juices dribbles out of me and down my leg.

He sees it, of course. His eyes search mine. My legs are going to give way.

'On your knees,' he says, and I drop to the floor straight away.

I'm at eye level with his naked, huge, hard cock. He's glistening too, a drop of pre-cum leaking from his tip.

Now I can see it up close, his cock looks even huger than it did earlier. It's going to rip me apart.

And I don't give a shit.

He lunges forward and grabs me by the hair, forcing my head down. I try to cry out. But he shoves his cock straight into my mouth, slamming into my throat. I try to gasp but I can't. He thrusts hard, hitting the back of my throat.

'You wanted it, little girl,' he snaps. 'Now fucking take it.'

His fist twists my hair and he rams his cock into me again. further and further, all the way, making me gasp for breath. He thrusts hard inside my mouth, again and again, his length banging the back of my throat. I gag. My eyes water. My heart is hammering in my ears.

His cock batters the back of my throat. Tears run down my cheeks. I can't breathe I can't breathe!

He pulls out a bit, and I take the chance to gulp in a breath, as much as I can manage with my mouth still full of cock. He lets me breathe for a couple of seconds, then he rams into me again. He face-fucks me until my throat is raw, and still I can hear him above me.

'Yeah,' he's saying. 'Fucking take it, take what I'm giving to you.'

I do. I take it and take it, through my tears and my burning throat. I take it until it's all I can feel, and see, and hear, his cock pounding into my mouth and throat over and over again.

Then, mercifully, he stops. He withdraws from my mouth. I look up at him, tears running down my cheeks. The mascara I'd applied that morning must be all over my face.

'Now that I've broken your mouth in,' he whispers, 'you want to suck me properly?'

Fuck yeah.

Through my tears, I nod.

'Good,' he says. 'Go on with what you started earlier. Suck my cock good.'

And I do. I lean forward like my life depends on it. I'm gasping to do it, to do what he wants.

I taste his tip, flicking my tongue around it. His pre-cum is salty and tangy on my tongue. It turns me on so much I groan, my lips against the end of his cock. I want to worship this cock, am desperate for nothing more than to have it inside me. Mouth or pussy, right now I don't care which.

His hand grips my hair again, his skin rough on my cheek. I know by instinct he's telling me to get on with it, this isn't about me or me getting turned on, it's about him having what he wants.

I keep licking the tip, little flickering licks. I run my tongue down his shaft and oh fucking god the taste of him. I bring my tongue back up again, down, up and down, up and down, knowing his eyes are boring into me from above. His fist tightens in my hair.

I can't wait any longer. I open my mouth wide to take his whole cock in my mouth. It fills my mouth, deep and full and snug. It's the only thing that matters in the world. I suck gently, lovingly, his entire cock resting in my mouth.

'That's it,' he grunts. 'That's it, suck my cock for me, you little bitch.'

I suck more and more, still using my tongue too, gobbling his cock. I love it. I fucking love it. His face-fucking still burns at the back of my throat.

He utters a low, long growl. My pussy throbs at the sound of it. I suck more, going for it. I can feel his juices and my saliva smeared all over my face.

Then he's gone, again. He yanks himself out of me. I sprawl, gasping, on the floor.

'Stand up,' he orders.

I don't know what's going to happen next. But I know that I need that cock inside me, ripping into me, using me, making me raw. Making me his.

I wobble up. My knees can hardly support me and I totter slightly before managing to regain my balance.

He studies me. I stand in front of him, trying to stand up straight, his cock juices painted on my face.

Then with one fast, precise movement he lunges forward. He grabs me. He hurls me down onto the sofa.


He towers over me, his hand over my mouth. Again the smell of engine oil and grease.

And then a surge of electricity to my clit, so sudden and so powerful that I gasp against his palm with the force of it.

My pussy is swelling. My juices drip out of me, onto the sofa. Outside, the sun blazes into the living room and I can hear kids shrieking and thumping a ball. It's a perfect summer's day and I'm going to get fucked, for the first time, by my dad's huge cock.

'NO,' he says, jerking his hand against my mouth, hard.

He leans forward. His stubble whispers against my cheek.

'You wanted this,' he growls. 'You're the little whore who wants to be fucked by her daddy. So that's what you're gonna get. I'm not Tom. I'm Daddy. Understand?'

What the fuck?



But he's glaring down at me, and suddenly I don't want to piss him off. And I do really, really want to be fucked. So I nod against his hand.

He removes his hand from my mouth.

'Say it,' he demands.

So I do.

'Yes, Daddy,' I say obediently.

And at the sound of it, the taboo, forbidden, so wrong word, I get so hot my head is going to explode. Fuck me, Daddy, please please fuck me, I need to be filled with your cock, I need you to pound into me, to feel your hot cum shoot into me

I did not expect this. At all. But I know it's right. It's like something clicking into place inside my head.

And I know, even more than I already did, that I 'll do anything to please him. Anything.

'Are you a virgin?' he demands. 'I know you're a slut, but have you fucked any of those boys who've been sniffing around you these past months?'

'No, Daddy,' I say, shocked. 'I haven't.'

'So you're pure? Innocent?'

'Yes, Daddy.'

'Good,' he says. 'Perfect. Little girl, you're going to remember your first fucking for the rest of your days. You've been playing with fire and now you're going to learn the consequences.'

And with that, he hauls me down by the legs so I'm lying flat. He looms over me, menace on his face.

He slaps my thighs apart.

'You ready for this?' he hisses.

'Yes, Daddy.'

'Tell me what you want,' he commands. 'Tell me what you want Daddy to do.'

'I want you to fuck me, Daddy.'

'You want me to take your virginity? Make you mine?'

I have no problem with this Daddy thing now. None at all.

'YES!' I cry. 'Yes, please, Daddy, please fuck me, please!'

'You're sure?'

'Yes, Daddy, please! I can't stand it! Please, I need it, please! I want you to rip me open, make me yours!'

He lowers himself onto me. His stubble is within grazing distance of my face. His eyes drill into mine. And – oh fucking godthere's the head of his cock, pushing insistently at my pussy.

He looks down at me. Grins.

'You're going to get a hard fuck,' he says. And he lunges forward.

His tip is nudging at me. And then – oh – it's inside me. His cock is inside me. Just the tip, because he's so huge and as a virgin I suppose I'm really tight.

But I'm wet enough and he's determined enough that there's going to be no stopping him. He forces his cock in further, into my tight, quivering, virginal pussy. I'm dizzy at the feel of it. Without knowing it, this is what I've needed all my life. This is what I was made for.

He stops. I moan beneath him, wanting him to continue burrowing inside me. He says,

'Got a little obstruction there, little girl.'

And then with one fast, violent, movement he thrusts forward, impaling me with his cock.

There's a ripping feel as he tears through my hymen. The pain is white-hot, filling my pussy and my head. I'm being ripped open, torn in half. I can't handle it, this is too much—

'Daddy, no!' I shriek. 'It hurts!'

He ignores me. He shoves his cock in still further. The pain explodes.

'Please, Daddy!' I cry. 'Please don't, it hurts so much! I can't do it, I can't!'

'Shut up,' he says, almost absently.

And I get it. He wasn't joking, or playing, or trying to be sexy, when he said my first fuck was all going to be on his terms. He meant it. And I'd said yes, hadn't I? He wants his cock serviced and I'm just here to do it for him.

He wants his cock serviced and I'm just here to be used to do it.

So I'd better shut up. Shut up and take it.

I stop shrieking. My breath is coming in gasps and my pussy is still on fire, but it's a little easier now that I know it's going to happen anyway, I'm going to get the hard fuck he promised.

He's ruthless as he thrusts into me still further, ripping me fully open. Then he's all the way in, buried in me to the hilt.

My pussy opens, swelling to fit him. It knows what to do even if I don't. My cunt wraps around his cock like it's done this a thousand times before.

The feel of his cock inside me is like coming home.

'Ohhhhh god, DADDY!' I scream.

I think there's blood adding to my pussy juices to make it even more slippery down there, but my pussy is made to fit him.

It's like everything I knew it would be, full and pulsing and oh my fucking god it's fucking amazing. I'd wanted him, but I hadn't known how much my pussy had wanted, needed, to be filled like this, stuffed with cock, used and battered.

He's banging against my cervix, filling me with all he's got. His eyes are intense above me. His fingers grip my arms, hard enough that I know there'll be bruises. I don't care. There's nothing in the world for me but his cock.

He slides almost out of me. He fixes my gaze with his and slams into me again all the way. His balls slap against my ass. He doesn't care it's my first time, he's using me as brutally as he wants – and I fucking love it.

'You like that, little girl?' he demands above me, hammering into my torn, assaulted pussy again and again. I howl with sheer joy, with the feel of him, slamming into me, my daddy making me his. I don't care if everyone outside hears me. I don't care if I scream the fucking house down. This is it. This. Is. It.

'Yes, Daddy!' I scream. 'I love it!'

'Are you mine?' he asks.

'Yes, Daddy!'

'Yes you are,' he says, fixing his eyes on me before pounding into me again. 'You're Daddy's little slut, here for my use. And I'm going to fill you up.'

'Yes, Daddy!' I moan.

'Tell me,' he commands, as he moves himself in and out of me, thrusting his whole length all the way in, slamming it as far as it'll go, then slipping back out to do it all again. What feel like waves start to lap in my head, like I'm riding water, bobbing on a boat, I can feel it all rise every time he shoves into me, and rise again as he slips back so deliciously…

I can barely talk, can barely see, hardly know my own name because he's fucking me so fucking hard. I moan.

He slaps me on the cheek. Not too hard, not to leave a mark, but hard enough. My eyes fly open. I stare at him.

'I fucking said tell me,' he says. 'Tell me.'

I try to focus my thoughts, difficult when I have a huge cock pounding into my destroyed pussy.

'I'm your little slut,' I manage to gasp out.

He slaps me again. Harder this time. My cheek sings.

'Address me properly,' he says.

'Daddy,' I croak, my throat still raw from the face-fucking. 'I'm your little slut, Daddy. I'm yours, Daddy. You're going to fill me up.'

'Good girl,' he says. Then he's not looking at me any more. His eyes close and his hips start to buck as his rhythm speeds up.

And my waves start again, slipping over me exquisitely, washing over me again and again, rushing over me like warm water, like a tide lapping in over soft sand. The waves build and build as he continues to smash into me, rising up and up and up, starting to crash now, and I can't think of anything else—

I've come before. Hundreds of times, up in my room or on this very sofa, thinking about him. But I've never felt it as intense as this. My head is going to fucking explode. I'm going to raise the roof.

'I'm going to come, Daddy!' I scream. 'I'm coming!'

My back arches. My hips buck and buck. The orgasm hits me with the force of a train. Hammering waves of it, faster and faster as I come over and over again, screaming, wailing, shrieking.

My vision blurs. I see fire, exploding behind my eyes.

This is incredible, this is amazing, I never knew anything could feel as wonderful as this—

He grips my face, bringing me back to my senses.

'Are you ready for me?' he growls above me. 'Are you ready for my load, right inside you?'

'Yes, Daddy, yes!' I moan. 'Come inside me, please come inside me!'

He moves still faster and I writhe under him, gripping his huge cock with all I can muster. My pussy is still convulsing. Then, even deeper than he's been before, he shoves himself into me for one final, hard, ruthless, unrelenting time. He cries out.

'Oh baby, that's so fucking good, you're so fucking good!'

And then I feel it, him releasing his load inside me, gush after gush of his creamy cum, splashing against my cervix and filling me right up.

He spasms again and again, giving me everything he has. I hold onto him as hard as I can, gripping him hard, milking his cock with everything I can from my newly fucked, newly raw pussy.

I'm raw all over, my cheek smarting where he slapped me, my pussy and my throat on fire. But I feel better than I ever have in my life. I hold him as he collapses on top of me, his breath ragged, sweat beading on his brow.

After a minute he slips out of me. I feel bereft. I'd never have thought that after just one time of having my dad's cock in me my pussy would be so empty the second it left.

Not as empty as it was this morning, I think, and I smile.

Later, I sit in my daddy's lap, curled up against his chest. We're still naked, on the sofa in the summer twilight. The kids have stopped playing outside and all I can hear are birds singing. I'm warm and at ease and I need nothing more than this.

He holds me.

After he'd fucked me, he'd cleaned the blood streaked on the sofa. Gone upstairs and run me a cool bath. Scooped me up and carried me there. Lowered me into it. Stayed with me and sponged me gently, my aching pussy, my bruised arms where he'd gripped me, my tits where they'd throbbed all day full of the pain of wanting him.

He was as gentle then as he was brutal earlier. He'd lifted me out of the bath and dried me. Picked me up and carried me downstairs. Sat on the sofa with me, folding me into him, and now here we were.

I cling to him, not able to speak. Being taken like that, so hard, so rough, so ruthlessly – I don't know why but it's made me love him even more. I'd do anything for him, anything to please him. My heart burns to satisfy him, in every way.

I feel so, so content. Completely at peace.

He nuzzles into my hair. His stubble tickles my ear and I giggle. He laughs, his deep chuckle against my face.

'Better now?' he asks me.

'Yes, Daddy,' I say.

'Not too sore?'

'No, Daddy.'

'You needed that, you know,' he said, grinning down at me, the laughter creases showing at his eyes. 'Not just a fuck, but a hard fuck. To show you who's boss in this house. I've wanted to teach you manners for a long time.'

'I know, Daddy.'

I snuggle into his chest again. He holds me, tight. His heart beats against me: slow, steady, strong.

I'm safe here. Safe in his arms. Without knowing it, this is what I've waited for all my life.

'Toni?' he says against my hair.

'Yes, Daddy?'

'What date do you go to university? I forget.'

'September 21st.'

'September 21st,' he muses. 'September 21st. So we've got,' – he counts – 'exactly ten weeks before you go.'

'Yes, Daddy.'

I wonder what's coming. I'm pretty sure he knows I know it's ten weeks until I leave.

He says into my ear, his words tickling,

'You'll be learning some more manners before I'm through with you. OK?'

I lift my head from his chest and look at him. He's watching me carefully. Shrewdly. He's always been able to read me.

But there's nothing to hide from him. Not now. Nothing at all.

'Yes, Daddy,' I say. 'Please.'

I cuddle into his chest again, his strong arms holding me tight.

'Good,' he says. 'Good.'

And then,

'Little girl, we're going to have a hot and steamy summer.'


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Read on for a preview of

Punish Me, Daddy

Toni gets trained

Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 2

Punish Me, Daddy

Toni gets trained

Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 2


'Toni,' says my stepfather. 'Do you know what a safeword is?'

We're lying in his bed, on Sunday morning. It's two days since Daddy took my virginity, ripped me open and made me his. Two days since I'd thought I was in control with what was going to happen with us, that I could seduce him and have everything go my way. I'd been so, so wrong. My pussy was still throbbing from the sheer, unrelenting force of it.

He's fucked me several times since then. When night had fallen and I suddenly, unexpectedly, fell asleep in his arms, he carried me upstairs to his bed and laid me gently down.

He was there when I woke in the morning, startled and confused. He ssshed my mouth with a kiss. Then he made a more assertive use of my mouth… then he lay me on my back, again, and he plunged into me, over and over until I was once more screaming his name…

Daddy. That's his name. My Daddy. Here to fuck me until I don't know my own name, here to take me, own me and make me his. He can do it any time he wants. I'm already his.

I curl closer to him. My head is on his chest and he has his arm around me, gently tangling my long dark hair. When I don't answer right away – because hey, I'm sleepy and lazily contented lying here like this, like a sleekly plump cat in the sun – his fingers grip around a lock. I already know him well enough to know he's not to be kept waiting.

'Yes, Daddy,' I say. 'I do.'

Because I do. Don't I? Doesn't everyone, after Fifty Shades and the rise of housewife porn, and BDSM becoming more mainstream? It's what a man tries to get a girl to say, when he's being rough during sex. When he wants to push her, to see how much she can take.

I say this to him. I don't explain myself very well, because I'm still a bit garbled post-fuck, but I think I get across what I mean Then I know I have, because his hand drops from my hair and his voice is rough.

'No,' he says. 'NO.'

There's an edge in his voice I heard when he was first fucking me two days ago. An edge I hadn't heard for some time, the way he used to speak to me when I mouthed off to him as my new stepfather three years ago. And that was a lot of mouthing off.

But then his arms wrap around me. His mouth is at my ear.

'Hey,' he whispers, soft and warm and scratchy on my face. 'Hey. It's OK. I'm not cross with you...'

His voice rumbles even more deeply when he's this close to me. In only two days I've grown to love it. It's one of my most favourite things about him, this husky voice against my ear.

Daddy lifts my chin up, so I'm looking right into his dark, searching eyes.

'It's not your fault you don't know,' he says. 'But you're going to learn.'

He continues to search me with those dark eyes, and I know he's checking if I'm OK with that. I nod, slowly.

'Tell me,' he commands.

'Yes, Daddy,' I say. 'I'm going to learn.'

Something moves in his face then. Flickering, fleeting, then it's gone. Lust? Anticipation? I don't know.

He stares at me. Then he speaks.

'Your safeword,' he says, 'is red.'





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About L.A. Cox

Greetings, Dear Reader! A little bit about me for those who care to read it:

First of all, I'm a real person – and a real sub, living with my hot (and very imaginative) Dom in the UK, where we both regularly get (even more) kinky at London's BDSM clubs.

In my vanilla life, I earn my living from writing – a mixture of journalism, novels, copywriting and editing – but I'm most at home writing filthy, taboo, steamy erotica. I love sex and I love men, particularly the hot, rough, sexy, tattooed alpha types like Tom… and a man who knows his way around a motorbike will get my pulse racing and my body revved up too.

I write hot and taboo stories that push the boundaries, because I love to explore kink and sex of all types – and because these types of stories are just the hottest!

My books are based partly on my own experiences, partly on what my sub and Dom friends and I talk about, and partly on what filthy thoughts run through my filthy mind… there are a lot.

I'm looking forward to seeing where my dirty mind takes me next! I hope you are too :).

Connecting with L.A. Cox

First up, thanks so much for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it – and more to the point I hope you got off on it too :).

If you liked the book, I'd love if you could leave a review! It would really mean a lot. Reviews are a massive help to indie and kinky authors like me and every and each review is hugely appreciated.

You can leave a review for any of my books at my Amazon author page here.



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It's what keeps me able to write, and to bring you steamy stories at a good price featuring hot alpha males. I love to hear from fans, so do get in touch!

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Thanks so much – and happy reading!

L.A. Cox

London, 2017

Also by L.A. Cox

The Toni and Tom: One Steamy Summer series

Punish Me, Daddy: Toni gets trained (Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 2)

Fill Me, Daddy: Toni gets opened (Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 3)

Teach Me, Daddy: Toni gets owned (Toni and Tom – One Steamy Summer: Book 4)


Available now at L.A. Cox's author page.

More raunchy, steamy, taboo books coming very soon – follow for the latest updates!

Download this book for your ebook reader.
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