Adventures of Daddy's Girl 02

"Negative, Mr. Bear. I don't see evidence of anyone being home."

I walk back to the compact car we are driving today. We rent a different one each time for multiple surveillance attempts on the same mark. I call up Mr. Smock and ask him if he has any suggestions for where we might find Ms. Smock this afternoon.

"She likes to go to the koi pond at Senneto Park," he says.

"What time does she usually go there?"

"I'm not sure about the exact time. I'd say around 1:00."

I look at the time on my phone. It's already 1:14.

"Thank you, Mr. Smock." I hang up the phone and look at Mr. Bear. "Let's roll, Daddy-O."

Upon arrival, Mr. Bear and I take a stroll through the grass. Senneto is a big park, and there are a lot of outcrops of trees and walking paths. We take one of the paths that head toward the koi pond. Daddy has a backpack with some equipment. It also contains a blanket and water bottles. I call it our picnicker disguise pack. He takes our personal sound amplifiers out of the pack, and each of us puts a pair on. The devices look pretty much like standard earbuds. We walk quietly, listening.

About three yards out from where the koi pond is, I begin to hear sounds in the trees off the main path. I look to Daddy, who nods. He kneels down on the path so I can reach into the pack on his back. I pull out the zoom lens attachment and put it on my phone. I also pull out standard binoculars and scan the trees to find them. It's easier to do with the binoculars than the phone. It's a bit difficult with all the trunks, but I spot movement.

Once I know where they are, I move down the path a bit to get a better angle. Then I hold up the phone with the zoom lens attached and start snapping photos. Ms. Smock has a cute sundress pulled up over her hips, and Mr. Greenwood has opted to just leave his pants dropped around his ankles. They are deep into it. She is leaning against a tree trunk, biting her own arm to keep from crying out. Greenwood seems more intent on finishing quickly than the last time we saw the two of them. He's banging her hard and furious. From my angle, I get a good shot of Ms. Smock's white, creamy cum coating Greenwood's pubes. I cannot confirm the color of her toenails.

I've got enough evidence, though. I pull the lens attachment off the phone and put the gear, including our sound amplifiers, back in the bag. Then I take Mr. Bear's hand.

"All done. Let's go look at the fishies, Daddy."

"You got it, little girl."

#

I'm coloring in my coloring book, lying naked on the floor, to unwind after work. The picture is a cute bunny in an astronaut suit, with an alien standing next to it. I cock my head to one side as I hear the bedroom door open, but I don't look up. I just keep coloring, grabbing a bright blue crayon for the bunny's spacesuit.

Daddy walks so stealthily, I don't even hear him come up behind me, but out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands on the floor next to me. The next thing I feel is flesh, cool and mostly soft, drop onto the crack between my butt cheeks. Daddy is holding himself up over my body in the floor, moving his hips. He rubs his penis up and down along the space between my cheeks, and with each stroke, his cock grows firmer, longer, more rigid.

"What ya doing, Daddy?"

"It looked like my little girl was ready for play time."

"Oh, I like play time. What game are we going to play?"

Now Daddy presses his cock against me. I feel the base of it in my ass crack, and the end of it pressed against my lower back. He grinds against me and makes a noise that sounds like it feels good.

"It's called riding the rocket ship."

"I want to ride the rocket ship!"

"Okay, you be the astronaut, and I will be the rocket ship, then."

I nod and giggle.

"We have to go through pre-flight procedures. I'll be right back."

Daddy lifts himself up and walks off, but he's only gone for a few seconds. When he comes back, he spreads my ass cheeks apart with one hand, and I feel warm oil drizzling into the space between them.

"Just lubricating the turbopumps," he says.

His fingers are rubbing the oil in, spreading it around. He circles one finger around my butt hole, pours more oil on me, and then presses his finger against that tight hole.

"Oh, now what are you doing?"

"Don't worry, this is an important part of the safety protocol. All astronauts require a physical examination to ensure they can endure the rigors of spaceflight."

His finger presses again and then slides into my hole. Instinctively, I squeeze it tight around his finger.

"Just relax, little girl. Daddy will take care of you."

I consciously relax my muscles, and Daddy moves his finger out and back in, spreading the oil up inside me.

"Good girl," he says.

He pulls his finger out and then presses two fingers inside me.

"What is that for?" I ask.

"This is how we're going to get you on the rocket ship."

And then I feel Daddy's thick cock, warm and pressing against that little hole.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Mmhmm."

He presses his cock into my ass, just a little bit. And then a little bit more. Taking his time. Only about half his cock is inside me. And then his hips sink against me, and he presses the last half of his cock into me all at once. I breathe in a little gasp of surprise at the feeling. It's so intense being all full of him. My clit contracts, and wetness drips down it.

I'm not expecting what happens next. Daddy lifts me up, gripping me under my armpits, and pumps his cock into me, hard and fast, like he has no regard for my body. He uses his grip on me to pull my body against him with each thrust, increasing the speed by having both our bodies moving together at the same time. I hear the sound of his body slapping against my round ass.

I start to grunt with each inward thrust. And then I'm panting. And Daddy keeps using my body, lifting me up and pumping his cock into me.

Abruptly, he slows down, placing me back on the floor. He pulls his cock all the way out of my ass. It feels so much longer coming out that it did going in, and I shudder at the feeling of it exiting my body.

"There you go," he says. "You're in space now."

Then he puts his hands on my hips, and he slowly pushes his cock, all of it, back into my ass. He starts teasing me like this, pulling his cock all the way out and then plunging it all the way back into me. He removes his grip from my hips and pulls my ass cheeks apart.

"Look at that porthole. Nice and open for Daddy. Now that's a pretty view. Wait right there."

I lay there, squirming, my body feeling unsatisfied. I hear Daddy moving some things around in a drawer, and then he walks back to where I am and starts moving some things around nearby.

"Space is about exploration. So we're going to explore."

"Yes, Sir."

Something presses up against my clit. Something big. And then a cool object pokes at my gaping butt hole. It slides in easily now that I'm already opened up. Daddy is not pumping it into me like his cock, though. He's just slowly and steadily pushing it up inside me. He pulls the object back out, and when he pushes it forward, into me again, it's slicker with more lube.

He keeps feeding the long dildo into my ass, which greedily accepts it. It's a totally new and interesting sensation, and my pussy is drooling all over herself. The dildo bumps up against something inside me and stops. It's as far in as it can go. But Daddy pulls it back just an inch, adjusts the angle of it, and then presses it into me again, slipping it around the corner that had been holding it up, deeper into my abdomen. I feel Daddy's fingers butt up against my ass, and he chuckles.

"You ate the whole thing," he says. "Greedy girl."

I didn't think it was possible to put anything so far inside me. My clit feels swollen, like it's screaming for attention. Suddenly, the large object pressed against my clit buzzes to life with intense vibrations. I almost come immediately, but Daddy knows better. He shuts the vibrator back off again. Just giving me a taste of the intensity.

"No," he says. "You know what that feels like. Let's keep focusing on exploration."

He pulls the long dildo, slowly, all the way back out of my ass. And then he's feeding it into me again. All the way back in, plunging it into the depths of my abdomen. I've never felt anything like this before. Daddy keeps doing this, dragging the dildo out of me, depriving my body of its delicious presence, and then threading it back through me. Teasing me. There's a place deep inside me that, every time the dildo passes it, I feel this intense urge in my pussy.

Daddy turns the vibrator on again. My body tenses up. He turns it off.

"Please, Daddy," I say.

He laughs. "Nobody can hear you beg in space."

He turns the rumbling vibrations on again. And off again. My clit is slick all over the toy, and I try to grind against it.

"Please, Daddy, please."

I've given myself away. He knows how much I want it. He pulls the vibrator away from me and tosses it to the side. And then he picks up speed with the long dildo, plunging it into the depths of my abdomen, pulling it back and pushing it deep inside me again. Over and over, fast.

Running it over that intense spot inside me. My body seems to open up for it. The dildo is pressing deliciously into me, into places that never get touched, and involuntarily, squirt sprays from my body. I feel it spattering against my legs. I scream out with the intensity of my orgasm, and Daddy keeps pushing that dildo up inside me. Every time it thrusts inward, my body squirts again. As though the toy cock is squeezing all the cum out of me. I have no control over it. The dildo plunges in, and I squirt more cum onto myself, and onto the rug, and onto Daddy's body.

When there's no more squirt for me to release, Daddy finally stops. My clit is throbbing. My body is quivering. And I'm lying in a large, wet puddle.

"Good girl. Here's your reward."

The large vibe is pressed against my clit again. I try to tell Daddy no, that my body can't take anymore, but I'm too tired to speak. He turns it on, and my already throbbing clit is surprised with intense vibrations. I think that I can't possibly orgasm anymore, but I do. My pussy convulses against the vibrator, as though it's trying to squirt again, but there is no cum left inside me.

He finally removes the vibrator, leaving my pussy slick and wet and numb. He wipes his hand across my cum-covered pussy, and I hear him rubbing my wetness onto his cock. Daddy roughly wraps an arm under my hips, lifting my tush into the air. I lay limply, letting him move my body into whatever position he wants.

He does not enter me, though. I hear him stroking his cock, groaning behind me. His strong arm flexes around my hips. Holding onto me and pleasuring himself. After all that he just did to me, it does not take him long. Daddy yells out loudly, and warm cum shoots onto my ass and down into my still gaping hole. I can feel the liquid shoot inside me, dripping deep down into my opened insides. Daddy yells out again and presses his cock into my ass, letting the last pulses of cum dribble inside me, him holding my ass into the air to let the cum drip down into me, until it is running so far inside me that I cannot feel it anymore.

#

"Daddy, I was thinking about that case we're working on."

"Geez, I know the suspected lover has a huge cock, but you don't need to mention it to me right now, do you?"

"No, silly bear, that's not what I mean." I playfully smack at Daddy's cock, now hanging, still semi-erect. "I mean, isn't it strange that every time we perform surveillance, the suspected perpetrators are magically right where we look. Think about it. When is a case ever this easy?"

"What's wrong with something being easy? Sometimes, you just get lucky."

"Yeah, well I don't think that's what this is. I think something is fishy with our client."

"You mean aside from the koi?"

I roll my eyes.

"Okay, okay. How so? I mean, it's not like he's telling his wife and her lover precisely where to be so we can catch them in the act."

Daddy freezes, apparently realizing what he has just said. His eyebrows raise in surprise. "He's telling his wife and her lover precisely where to be so we can catch them in the act."

I nod.

"You think he hired us to be voyeurs by proxy while he is at work during the day, and his wife has time to play around?"

"I think so. Remember how eager he was to get photos of the goings-on at the first stakeout?"

Daddy is nodding, silent as he realizes our client's probable intentions.

"And remember how you saw Ms. Smock's lover wink at you through the window at that stakeout?" I say.

"So Smock knows all about his wife and Dion Greenwood screwing each other."

"Not only that, Greenwood and Ms. Smock also know that he knows. They're all in this together."

"Time to do some counter-surveillance on our client," Daddy says.

"Yep," I say, and wriggle my bottom onto his lap, stuffed bunny in hand. "But first, it's lap time."

#

Back at the office, I'm pulling up all our databases for files on Donovan Smock. We don't usually do background checks on our clients because it's extra time that we aren't getting paid for, and most people are extremely boring. In this case, though, I'm curious what I will find.

I already said that I would start checking out conversations between Mr. Greenwood and Ms. Smock, so I start there. My first stop for sleuthing is plain old social media, just like everyone else uses. You'd be amazed how much you can dig up if you know where to look there. In fact, sometimes I get a load of information by following the clues and connections through someone's social accounts.

I don't find anything that stands out right away as far as indicating a relationship between our client's friend and his wife. At least publicly, they seem to keep themselves separated. There is one thing I find that's interesting, a selfie Ms. Smock took of herself. She's sitting on a bed, but the headboard doesn't seem to match the one currently at her own house. I saw her bedroom when Mr. Bear and I were putting up surveillance cameras, even though we didn't place a camera in that room. The door had been open. I print out the photo and make a note to show it to Mr. Bear for confirmation. After a little more digging, I notice that Ms. Smock does seem to have a large number of male friends on social media. There are a few posts with light flirting, but nothing serious enough to indicate infidelity.

I move on to Mr. Smock's profiles. He doesn't seem especially active on social media. His public posts are mostly funny GIFs and a few political shares. But the goldmine is in the groups he's in. Stag and Vixen communities. Threesome hookup and story sharing communities. Hotwife groups. Exhibitionism and Voyeurism.

"Bingo," I say out loud. It's not enough to prove anything yet, but I'm onto something. "Mr. Bear, I think it's time to question our client."

#

"You can't be serious!" Smock says to me. He's doing a good job of playing exacerbated.

"Mr. Smock, I have a decent amount of evidence here that you are playing us. Now, why you would want to spend this much money on a voyeur game, I don't pretend to know. Everybody has their kinks. But we cannot represent you as a client any further. Helping people get off is not the purpose of our business."

"Helping me get off!? The only people getting off are my wife and Dion. I'm not playing you. I hired you to help me know for sure what is going on between Tammy and my friend, if a friend is what he is. I would love it if you found evidence that I was wrong about this. But from what you've told me, it sounds like that is not the case."

"Mr. Smock. We are aware of the groups you take part in online."

He stares at me dumbly. "What?"

I hold my phone up to my face and start reading off the list I had compiled. "Stag and Vixen Academy. Vixen's Club. Stag and Vixen Salon. Hotwife Anonymous."

Color rises to Mr. Smock's face. He starts to speak and has to stop himself. And then he tries again. "I can't believe this. What difference does it make what online groups I look at?"

"If you were the suspect, we would certainly take these things into account."

"They're just fantasies. People are allowed to have fantasies. It doesn't mean I'm actually acting on any of those things!"

I look at Mr. Bear. He recognizes that look of concern on my face and nods. He addresses our client.

"Mr. Smock, please allow a moment for my partner and me to speak privately."

Mr. Bear and I head into the closed room where we keep evidence and surveillance equipment. There's nowhere to sit in here, so we stand in the middle of the room and speak.

"Something is off about this," I say. "I was certain that he hired us for purposes of voyeurism, but he is not giving in about any of this. And he sounds sincere."

"I agree," Mr. Bear said. "I can't see any indication that he is lying to us."

"Okay, so if we are wrong, let's consider what that might mean." I turn to a table next to me and grab a paper and pencil to start mapping out possibilities.

"First, there's the wink. That means that Mr. Greenwood either knew that we would be there, or he spotted us out the window. If he knew we would be there, who told him? Is he doing counter-surveillance on Mr. Smock? Did he hire his own private investigator to follow Smock around and then found out Smock was hiring us? Do he and Ms. Smock have recording devices set up to eavesdrop on Mr. Smock's phone calls? Or if he simply spotted us, does that mean that he is just an exhibitionist who doesn't mind putting on a peep show?"

I write down each of the possibilities, making columns on the sheet of paper.

"And then there's the matter of Greenwood and Ms. Smock always being easy to find. If they're trying to cover up their trail, it's sloppy. They didn't even close the curtains on his window."

I make a horizontal line halfway down the sheet and start a new set of columns.

"Could still be coincidence," Mr. Bear says.

"It could," I say, and write that down as one of the possibilities. "Or, assuming that our client is telling the truth, it could mean that Mr. Greenwood or Ms. Smock has been listening in on Mr. Smock's conversations with us."

"And given that they appear to be cooperating with our surveillance," Mr. Bear says, "they could be trying to get caught."

"It's definitely a possibility," I say.

"So, what then?" Mr. Bear says. "They had been attempting to hide the affair, but once they realized that the husband was suspicious, they decided to give up the ruse? Why not just come forward and tell him? Save him the stress and the money?"

"That's a good question. They could be ignorant of the fact of how much it costs to hire private investigative services."

"Or they just don't care about his loss." Mr. Bear is always good at seeing the worst possibilities in human nature. It's unfortunate how often he is right.

I exhale. "Okay, I'm going to go out there and apologize to our client. I'm going to tell him that I had to be sure we knew what kind of case we are dealing with. And then we're going to get to the bottom of why Dion Greenwood and Tammy Smock are not trying to cover up their affair yet do not come clean to Mr. Smock."

#

After we apologize to our client, Mr. Bear and I hit the street. We stop by the offices of the couple of other P.I.'s in the area, assuming that if Mr. Greenwood and Ms. Smock hired someone, it would most likely be local. The first office we stop by is run by David Uglow. He was a cop for a while and decided that he preferred making his own hours, so that's how he found himself in the private investigations business. It works out well for him since he has retained a few connections with the police.