Songs About Fucking

(This story is about a daddy dom and his sub. This is a style of DS that deals with a need for a father-figure who is both strict and nurturing, who gives unconditional love, as well as strict discipline. It is NOT about ageplay, but about needs for security and control. I would like to make it very clear that both the characters in this scene are of legal age, and that their roleplay in the scene deals with emotion and authority, NOT age.)

*

I enjoy the solitary silence of the old farmhouse, with the business of the day behind me. I sit at my desk, reading over a new chapter, my red pen in hand. The woman in blue scrubs is still yammering on the phone when she walks into the house. She puts a carton of milk in the fridge and peeks in the oven to see what smells good. Anyone else who knew us would think she is the love of my life, but this forty-year-old woman with her hair in a bun is almost a stranger to me. I pay her no mind as she heads upstairs.

I hear her going into her bathroom, starting the shower, and I make notes for a new draft. Every day we come home, from our separate working lives, and it takes time for us to shed the skin we wear for the world and become who we are for each other. We call that time the airlock. When she is ready, when the world's nurse has become my sweet, the one I love, she will let me know. Until then, I have my novel.

Roaring guitars, brutal drums and a thundering bass shred my peace. It has been over an hour. It must have been a terrible day for her to take so long, to want this game. She knows I love my quiet, and I breathe slow, waiting out the first, hot wave of anger. The first song is almost over before I start up the creaky stairs and see her door ajar.

This is the girl I love, spread across the pink bedspread on her belly, propped up on her elbows, reading a magazine in the middle of this musical hurricane. I can see her silky red panties under her porn-short miniskirt, and her dark, auburn hair is hanging in a high ponytail. It isn't something we have a name for, like the airlock, but the scene she has created tells me exactly what she needs.

"Turn it down." I have to raise my voice to be heard.

Her ass flexes for a moment, and she turns the page. I am across the room in a heartbeat. I grab her by the ponytail, forcing her to face me. She is wearing far too much makeup, so her face seems nothing but big brown eyes and red pouting lips. She glares and tries to pull the magazine between us. I snatch it and fling it across the room, bringing my hand back from the throw to slap her cheek, leaving a red print that fades to pink. She cannot entirely stifle her gasp of pleasure.

"Daddy said turn it down!" I bark at her, and she reaches out quickly, her fingers on the volume dial, turning the screaming music down to a whisper. "Daddy" is our code for this game. She will act insolent and bratty, and I will rage at her and punish her, but unless we say Daddy, it's just theater.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I snarl the words, my eyes blazing with fury. "You know I need quiet when I'm working." She glowers at me, eyes hot with defiance as I twist my hand, pulling her hair tighter, forcing her to sit up. She crosses her arms under her chest, lifting her ripe breasts up so they all but spill out of the tight blouse she has mostly unbuttoned.

"You don't understand!" she accuses, her voice changing subtly from defiance to complaint. She is breathing hard, and I know she is as excited as I am.

"I understand that you're disturbing my work by playing that noise and that you look like a whore." I let my eyes drop to her lush breasts, glimpsing the rosy edge of a nipple under her blouse. Her tummy is bare from the navel to the little strip of cloth that barely passes as a skirt, and I can still see her silky panties between her beautiful, thick thighs.

"I do not look like a whore!" she wails, her face a tragic mask under the heavy make up. She pulls away, her luscious body wriggling as she tries to escape. I slap her again, catching her wrist and freeing her hair. I pull her arm behind her, twisting and pressing her soft body against me. She feels how hard I am, but the only sign she gives is a momentary flutter of her eyelids.

"Why are you blasting that garbage?" I snap.

"You're so mean! I hate you!" she howls, squirming in my grip, rubbing herself against my hard cock so I can hardly control myself.

"Tell Daddy the truth. Why are you blasting that garbage?"

Her chin trembles as she glowers up at me, but her voice is softer. "I wanted to make you mad, Daddy."

I growl. "You want Daddy to punish you, is that it?"

She blushes and lowers her head. After a moment, she mumbles "No, I don't want you to punish me.... I just didn't want to wait til you finished your work to see me."

I stare at her a moment, teeth clenched. My blood is up and I am burning with lust, but I have to control myself. Just as she thought before she spoke, I have to think now. She did not say Daddy. She wants to be punished. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. How to punish a bratty attention whore?

"It's hard to wait, isn't it? It's hard to be good when Daddy's working."

I stroke her cheek. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, teary. Later on, perhaps I will learn what has upset her, but for now, what matters is our game. She nods her head

"Tell Daddy why you're dressed like a whore."

She blushes, a deep crimson, and lowers her eyes. "I wanted you to fuck me, Daddy."

I pull her closer, relaxing my grip on her wrist. "You feel Daddy's cock?"

She moans softly, grinding against it. "Yes Daddy," she whispers, looking up at me, breathing hard. I hug her tight for a long moment, and she presses herself against me, rubbing her belly against my cock. I could gladly take her right now; it's what we both want. The only thing that stops me is knowing what she needs. If I fuck her now, she'll be up half the night, worrying at whatever it is. She wants to fuck, but she needs her Daddy.

"Do you feel how hard you make Daddy, sweetness?" I whisper in her ear.

"Yes Daddy," she moans.

"Do you know how much Daddy loves you?"

"More than anything in the whole wide world?" The way she looks up at me, it's hard to believe she is forty. Her need is so heartbreakingly basic.

I nod. "More than anything in the whole wide world."

Her smile at moments like this, with her eyes wet with happy tears, is the most beautiful thing I know. I kiss the top of her head, and turn her towards the bed. I pay her bottom and give a little push, afraid to try to speak for the lump in my throat. She climbs on the bed, looking back at me for direction, and with a familiar gesture, I lay her on her back. There are always nylon stockings in the nightstand drawer, and I tie her wrists to the iron bed frame. After unbuttoning her top, I reach under her skirt and slide her panties down slowly. She is all but panting as she watches me tying her ankles as well, not spread wide, but close together.

When I am sure she is secured, I straddle her, pulling her head up and pushing my crotch against her face. She nuzzles, opening her mouth to suck at my cock through my slacks, moaning eagerly. I step back, staring at her, on fire for her as she squirms on the bed. I hold her panties in my hand, slowly wadding them up into a ball. I force her to open her mouth, and stuff her panties in.

"I know how hard it is to be good, sweetness. This way, you won't make any noise."

Her eyes bulge with fury and she works her mouth, trying to get the gag out.

"You're so sweet and you make Daddy so happy, but you were bad. You need to be punished." I lean down and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her ears, her nose and her chin. She squirms and whines through her gag, but she knows how this works. She needs this time.

"Daddy loves you, sweetheart. I love you. I'm going to finish my work now and you can think about what happens when you're bad. Then Daddy's going to come give you a spanking, and fuck his you til you're all better."

She moaned, struggling, begging with her eyes. I smiled at her and reached into the drawer again, taking out her little blue vibrator. I switch it on and smile. "Should I leave you with this?"

She nods, and I am too horny to tease her for long, I slide it down her belly and over the smooth shaved swell of her mons. She lifts her hips up, and I let it roll away from her puss once before I press the tip between her sweet pink pussylips. She groans with pleasure and grabs hold of it with her thighs, holding it there. I leave her writhing on the bed, moans of pleasure muffled by her panties.

The idea that I can concentrate on writing at this point is a joke. Instead, I go down to the kitchen, turn the oven off and leave the lasagna to set as it cools. I set the table, open a bottle of wine, and make a little salad. I surf the web for a while, glancing at the clock about every thirty seconds. Half an hour later, I give up.

The vibrator had slipped and now buzzed slowly under her thigh. She squirmed and stared up at me with desperation in her eyes. I switched it off and set it aside. I smiled and wiped the streaks of her tears off her cheeks. I pull the panties out of her mouth and she gasps, breathing hard.

"Did you cum, sweetie?"

She shakes her head, whimpering softly. "No Daddy, you didn't tell me I could."

I grin. "You need it badly, don't you?"

"Yes Daddy, please," she sobs, and I lean down and kiss her. I silence her with my lips and tongue, and then undo the knots at her ankles. She opens her legs wide, pussy gaping and dripping as my hands untie her wrists. She is panting almost like an animal as I pull her over my lap, flipping her skirt up and exposing her ass. I feel her shaking with her need as I caress her ass, and then begin to spank.

It is quick. The real punishment is already over, the teasing has gone on quite long enough for both of us. I give her a few hard smacks, just to make her cheeks glow pink. Just to enjoy the obscene view of her ass thrust up with her skirt around her waist. I cup a breast and squeeze while I fondle her warmed bottom for a moment. Her nipple is a bullet against my palm.

"Daddy needs a kiss, sweetness," I whisper. She moves slowly, weakly as she lifts herself up and kisses me. It isn't much of a kiss, really, she is lost in her subspace, and I lay her down gently the way I found her, on her belly, with her skirt up around her waist. Straddling her thighs, I press my cock against her from behind. Her whole body shudders, and I savor this last moment of control.

Then we are both lost in the savage ecstasy of fucking.