Dirty Daddies Read online

“Daddy Michael,” I whimper. “Love me, Daddy Michael, please.”

  Thick globs of cum splatter my tongue as Michael swears under his breath.

  I cry out as my own orgasm rushes through me, and Jack’s on his way too, I feel it in his thrusts.

  “And me,” he growls. “Fucking say it.”

  I look him right in the eye, knowing I’ll love him forever, no matter what.

  “Daddy Jack,” I whisper.

  And he comes inside me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack

  Not once in all the sex I’ve ever had, have I ever shot my load deep inside a woman’s pussy, no matter what contraceptives they’ve been using.

  Commitment scares the shit out of me.

  But here, still catching my breath with my cock throbbing between Carrie’s spread thighs, there’s nothing more thrilling than watching my cum dribble out of that tight little cunt of hers.

  The fact that Michael’s is in there too, and certainly smeared all over my dick, matters to me surprisingly little. I feel like I’ve conquered the fucking world.

  I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me – fuck, to either of us – but I like it.

  I just hope Michael does too.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Carrie as her breathing calms.

  She nods. Smiles. Giggles a giggle that barely sounds like her.

  It’s light.

  Free.

  “I’m great,” she says.

  She slides a hand down her belly, palming her swollen clit before dipping a finger inside herself.

  “I’m full of you,” she says, piercing eyes right on mine. She looks up at Michael after me. “Both of you.”

  I’d stare at that dripping pussy forever, but she lifts herself up to sit between us.

  I was fucking livid when she traipsed mud all over my cushions, but cum smears I can live with all day long.

  I feel surprisingly mute on the topic of contraception. The urge to dash out to the chemist for a morning after pill is non-existent.

  The Carrie Wells effect. Michael wasn’t joking when he said she sucks you in deep.

  I look over at him, focusing on his face and not the dick he’s holding absentmindedly. He looks as spaced out as I feel.

  “You alright?” I ask, and his eyes clear.

  Carrie reaches out for him, tugging on his arm until he settles at her side. She nestles into the crook of his shoulder, her cheek against his clammy skin.

  “I’m fine,” he says. “As fucked up as this is, and it is fucking fucked up, I feel like a cloud’s lifted.”

  I get it. I’ve been feeling it too. Days of tension as this cart veered off the rails.

  Now it’s crashed and toppled, we at least know what we’re dealing with.

  Carrie’s voice is timid when she speaks. “You’re not going to run off now, are you?” She snakes an arm around his waist as though she’ll fight him every step.

  What she means is she doesn’t want him to leave her, and I get that, too. I don’t want him to walk off into the night with a head full of regrets, any more than I want to erase what happened here.

  I have no regrets. Not a single one.

  I don’t regret taking Carrie Wells and filling her full of my cum, and I don’t regret sharing her with Mike, either.

  One of us was going to lose out big time, I didn’t want it to be him, and I sure as fuck didn’t want it to be me.

  “I’m not going to run off,” he tells her. “I’d never run off from you. I’m the one who came running after you, remember?”

  “Nobody’s running off anywhere,” I say. “Not us, and not you.”

  She nods. “So, what happens now?”

  I meet Michael’s eyes and his are as clueless as mine.

  “We go to bed,” I improvise. “Sleep on it, see what we work out in the morning.”

  “Bed?” she says. “All of us?”

  I hadn’t even thought about the logistics. The prospect of me in an empty bed with Carrie in the guest room and Michael roughing it on the sofa seems less than ideal.

  The prospect of Carrie choosing to share a bed with either of us individually seems a recipe for jealousy and nothing more.

  “I’m happy to bunk up if you are,” I tell him.

  He’s quiet for a minute.

  “Three of us in one bed?”

  “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

  “I like that idea,” Carrie chips in. “Please can we go with that idea?”

  Michael shrugs. “I have no better option to counter.”

  “Bed buddies it is,” I laugh, hoping the humour carries through to all of us.

  Carrie laughs along with me, Mike manages a smile at least.

  She winces as I reach out a hand and pull her to her feet. “You got me good,” she says, laughing as cum drips down her thighs.

  We did that, alright.

  I wrap my arms around our beautiful dirty girl and squeeze her tight. I breathe in her hair and she melts against me, her warm fingers clammy against my back.

  “You’re not such a bad little bitch as you like to make out,” I whisper. “I think, in fact, you’re a good girl, you just hadn’t found the right guys to bring it out of you.”

  Her eyes are mischievous as she stares up at me. “You think?”

  I smirk and then I kiss her to answer her question, long past caring that she’s had another guy’s dick in her mouth.

  Her kisses are sweet, genuine, without even a hint of the hissing banshee who railed on me for letting a crow fly out over my head.

  “How about you grab us all a coffee while Mike and I clean up in here?”

  “Sounds good,” she says, padding away from the living room with that delightful little ass of hers swaying every step. I’m gonna ride the fuck out of that asshole, but not tonight.

  Soon, but not tonight.

  Mike tugs his pants back on when it’s just us left in the room. I don’t bother with mine. Who really gives a fuck for modesty after all that?

  He collects up the beer bottles and gathers the scattered popcorn from the carpet while I grab a wet cloth from the kitchen to wipe down my poor ravaged sofa. I give Carrie’s ass a playful slap on the way through and she pokes her tongue out.

  Fuck, I love that fucking girl.

  “You alright?” I ask Mike as I rub over the wet patches on the fabric.

  “I don’t know what I am anymore,” he says, but he doesn’t look about to go anywhere, and I doubt he ever will.

  I doubt either of us ever will, because this thing we have – the contagious Carrie Wells effect – I’m pretty damn sure this shit is terminal.

  “I can’t find a way to justify why what we did feels so right,” he tells me.

  I tip my head. “So stop trying. I have.”

  “It can’t be right,” he says, but he’s lacking the conviction he’s been so desperately clinging onto.

  “Maybe it’s right for us,” I offer. “Maybe it’s right for her. Fuck, Mike, neither of us have a stellar fucking track record on the relationship front. Forty years old and both single? Maybe we’re not fucking destined for a twee little life with neat little tick boxes.”

  “Maybe not.” He looks so fucking pensive.

  There’s that urge to ruffle his hair again. To pull him into a friendly headlock and slap his back and make this all about two guy friends again.

  But I’m naked and he’s not far off either, and that crap still feels a little weird around the edges.

  I’m worried about him, I’m worried about how his mind will play over all of this. But most of all I’m worried he’ll try to climb back up the cliff we’ve just tumbled over.

  There’s no fucking way to scale back up that motherfucker, we’re well and truly all in.

  “Coffee’s up,” Carrie calls from the kitchen, and we head out, him before me, dumping the cloth and the leftover movie-night supplies by the draining board before taking a seat at the island.

  It�
�s when I see him look at her that I know he’s gonna be just fucking fine.

  His eyes are warm, fingers reaching out to rest on her back so tenderly. Because he loves her. He really fucking loves her.

  I love the way he loves that girl.

  I love the way she smiles right back at him.

  I love the way she sips her coffee and smiles at me, too.

  We’re gonna be just fine and I know it, even if I do have to share my bastard bed with a naked guy.

  I finish my drink and head up before them, tugging the bedcovers into some kind of order before I flick the bedroom lights down low.

  I’m already in my en-suite shower as I hear Michael and Carrie reach the bedroom. The bathroom door is open in invitation.

  Carrie has her hand in Michael’s. She tugs him along after her as she heads in my direction.

  I slide open the shower door and she steps inside, turning back to face him as he ditches his boxers on the tiles.

  I’m glad I’m a man who prefers opulence over budget, because it’s just as well I opted for a shower big enough for three. Carrie grins as she joins me under the water, tipping her head back and closing her eyes as the warmth lands on her face. Mike presses up behind her, his arms around her waist as I grab the body wash from the rack. I squeeze a load into my palm and slap it over my chest, lathering it up before I offer the bottle to Carrie.

  She laughs as she dribbles it over her tits, the filthy little minx making quite a spectacle of soaping her nipples. I brush her hands away and take over the job, soaping her nice and good before dipping my fingers between her legs. I lather up that delicious little pussy, washing our stickiness off her as she rests her head back against Michael’s shoulder. His hands palm her tits, his hair nearly as dark as hers under the showerhead. He kisses her wet hair and I browse the bottles on the rack for the fancy shampoo one of my last female guests left here.

  I hand it to him and he gets to work. Her expression is one of wonder as his fingers work her scalp, and under all this, under all the dirtiness and the sex and the come-ons she’s been giving us, I’m reminded again that this girl hasn’t really known tenderness before. She’s never been looked after before.

  It’s never been more obvious than it is right now. Never been more obvious than it is in her pleasure at having her hair washed by someone else’s hands.

  Her eyes are closed in rapture, mouth open as she tips her head back for him. He gathers her hair up onto her head, soaping her with surprising skill as she murmurs under his care.

  “That’s so nice,” she whispers, like it needs saying. She moves exactly as he guides her to let him wash out the suds. She turns to him when he’s done, her clean hair hanging in perfect wet waves against her back. She takes the shampoo and reaches up to him, and my heart flips as she mimics what he did in perfect concentration.

  I suddenly wish I had more hair than I do.

  She soaps him right down, her eyes on his in nothing short of adoration as she works her hands over his body.

  I should feel jealous, but I don’t. I should be weirded the fuck out, but I’m not.

  My cock is hard again, but that’s secondary to the wave of devotion I feel to this beautiful creature in front of me.

  It’s secondary to the pleasure I feel in seeing my best friend so enamored by the girl he’s been in love with for months.

  When she’s done, she shoots me a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes are hooded but twinkling. I love the way the water droplets glisten on her eyelashes.

  “You next,” she tells me, and I press in closer. She turns between us, a fresh load of soap on the skin I already lathered, but I don’t care.

  My mouth dips to her neck and I lick up the water from her throat. She runs her soapy fingers between my ass cheeks and guides my thigh between hers.

  She must be tender but she doesn’t show it. She wriggles between us, wrapping an arm back around Mike’s neck to steady herself as he grinds against her from behind. We pin her, wet bodies rubbing wet bodies, soap and fingers and groans as our tender little wash session descends into another wave of hard dicks and needy pussy.

  “This is love, right?” she asks as I hitch that sweet little pussy tighter against my thigh. “We love each other?”

  The nervousness in her eyes breaks my fucking heart.

  My answer is easy, even though it’s been impossible with every other woman I’ve ever had in my bed.

  “Yes, this is love,” I tell her.

  Her smile lights up the world.

  Mike’s lips press to her temple, his eyes closed as he trails his fingers down her throat.

  “I love you,” he says. “I’ve always loved you.”

  She turns her face to his. “And Jack, you love Jack, too? We’re in this together, right? The three of us?”

  Her breath comes in little rasps as she grinds against my thigh.

  I save him the self-consciousness.

  “Yes, he fucking loves me,” I tell her. “He wouldn’t be sharing if he didn’t.”

  She seems happy with that, and so am I.

  “I want you inside me,” she groans. “I want it again. I want us to love each other again.”

  It seems now Carrie Wells has opened up to the love word she can’t get enough of it.

  It’s sweet. It’s beautiful.

  It’s more than enough to convince me that this crazy train ends somewhere worth the ride.

  Guiding her back onto Mike’s dick comes so naturally. Sucking her dripping tits while he fucks her from behind is a beautiful pleasure.

  Wet slaps of flesh make my dick throb. The judder of her tits as he thrusts inside is fucking divine.

  She braces herself against the wall, arms tense on either side of me, balancing like a fucking ballerina as Mike lift her leg to take her deeper.

  Water drips from her hair onto the hard dick in my hand, and her glazed eyes focus on mine.

  “It’s just bodies,” she whispers. “We’re all just skin and bone and muscle. Just people. All three of us. Three people who love each other.”

  I don’t know what she’s getting at until she presses a hand to my scalp. She pushes me down, urging me onto my knees before her.

  I hear Mike’s balls slapping against her ass so loudly down here. I’m bizarrely fascinated by the way his dick thrusts inside her.

  “Just bodies…” she says again, and spreads her dripping pussy lips with her fingers. “Kiss me, Jack. Kiss me there.”

  But I don’t know if I fucking can.

  The swollen bud of her clit is ripe for sucking, and her taste is everything I want.

  But my shoulders are tense, and my stomach is fucking twisted up, and I don’t know if I can put my mouth so close to another man’s fucking dick.

  She grunts as Mike angles deeper. “Please…” she hisses. “Kiss me, Jack.”

  I squeeze my dick in my fingers, work that motherfucker hard as I contemplate the fucking unthinkable.

  “Just fucking bodies,” I grunt under my breath, grip her thighs and fix my mouth over that sweet fucking clit.

  It drives her crazy. Her hands are in my hair and the noises from her dirty mouth are everything.

  And it’s enough. It’s enough that I don’t care that another man’s balls are slapping so fucking close to my chin. It’s enough that I don’t care that my tongue is just an inch from tasting dick.

  I don’t fucking care.

  And I can’t believe that one crazy girl is worth stepping over boundaries I’ve never considered crossing in my whole fucking life up until now.

  But she’s worth it.

  I just hope she’s worth it for Mike too, because as he grunts and groans and tells her he’s on the fucking edge she tells him to stop. She tells him not to come yet.

  And I’ve got a sneaky fucking suspicion he’s about to toe the line right after me.

  Carrie

  They love me.

  I feel it in their touch and in their kisses. I feel it in the way th
ey soap me down and hold me tight.

  I feel it in every look that passes between them, between us. Between all of us.

  They love me and I love them.

  But they’ll have to love each other too if I’m gonna keep them both.

  I so wanna keep them both.

  More than want. Need.

  I need to keep them both.

  And if love is really love then it has to be free. If three is gonna work then love has to go all ways.

  I know these guys don’t love each other like that. I know they don’t wanna touch each other or kiss each other, or stick their dicks inside each other.

  I know they’re only doing any of this because they love me enough to share.

  But I want them to learn that love is love and bodies are just bodies. I want them to learn that love doesn’t come in neat boxes, and it doesn’t have stupid rules about how close someone else’s dick can be.

  I don’t know much about love, but I do know that.

  I know I’m pushing Jack hard when I ask him to kiss me down there while Mike’s dick is inside me. I feel how tense he is when he gives into the moment and presses his mouth to my desperate clit.

  But he does it.

  He does it because he loves me. He does it because he loves Mike, too.

  And now it’s Mike’s turn. It’s why he can’t come yet.

  It’s why he needs to be throbbing hard when I ask him to kneel between my legs and kiss me with Jack’s dick inside.

  He knows what’s coming, I know he does.

  His eyes are closed as I turn to face him and Jack gets to his feet behind me.

  “I’m not sure I can,” he says, but I know he’s wrong.

  I’ve seen the way he looks at Jack’s dick when he fucks me. I’ve seen the way he can’t stop looking.

  “Try?” I ask and he sighs.

  I wrap my hand around his dick as Jack pushes his way inside me. It makes me groan.

  My words come out on their own, and even though they sound dirty, I don’t care.

  “I’ll be a good girl,” I tell him. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Michael, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want, love you however you want. I’ll love you forever, Michael, I swear, no matter what. I’ll do anything you say. But kiss me down there. Kiss me so I know you can love Jack too.”