Hot Daughter

He had memorized the number, he didn't keep it in his phone for good reason. The girl with the familiar, husky voice that coaxed a hard-on from him every time he spoke with her answered, "A-1 Escorts, how can I help you?"

In his current condition, his cock responded with a wave, as if the girl on the phone could see it. "Is Candy available this morning? It's Mr. Worthington," he was already picturing his favorite girl in their usual place and he felt the rage slowly dissipating.

"Hey, Mr. Worthington, let me check," he could hear her clicking on a keyboard in the background. He'd never seen the receptionist. She could be five hundred pounds but she sounded like a pin-up girl and that was how he preferred to picture her. "She can be ready in an hour," she told him and the relief washed over him.

He gave the woman the details and finished with, "just tell Candy the same as last time. She'll remember."

Forty-five minutes later, Malcolm was waiting by the hotel room door, checking his phone. His dick was ready to explode and it was good that Candy was always prompt. He peeked through the peephole when he heard her dainty knock. "Come on in, honey," he answered the door with a smile and watched her enter. Candy didn't disappoint and her long, black hair was worn loose and wild and the skirt exposed long, bare legs. "How was school?" The question was, with all of the other transactions that a girl with her looks must handle on a daily basis, did she really remember last time?

She flashed him a cocky smile over one shoulder, "I didn't go to school today, Daddy." She remembered and she sat on the table after pushing the phone and the room service menu to one side. Her pale, soft legs parted, skirt revealing the sliver of black panties that she wore underneath. "I was a naughty girl," Candy even remembered her name now. "Ashley is a bad girl, Daddy," referring to herself in the third person.

Malcolm embraced the role play fully and rushed to the table and sank to his knees. It didn't matter where he was or that he was paying five hundred an hour. In his mind's eye, they were in the kitchen and his mouth was an inch away from Ashley's glistening cunt. He'd never gotten over it and this had been the only way to keep his sanity. No amount of jerking off had satisfied him. Even in her bedroom, even smelling and licking her used panties that he had found and kept secured in the back corner of a dresser drawer, even that hadn't been enough. Just this, rubbing his face in her slippery, little crevice and drinking down every last drop of Ashley.

The hooker leaned back when he moved her panties and saw her perfectly bare snatch once more. "Baby, I missed you so much," he kissed her lips before diving in. "Ashley, cum for Daddy," was all he said before ravishing her.

The girl, who looked to be only about his daughter's age, writhed back and forth as he greedily sucked from her little fountain. Her climax came with trembling thighs and low whimpers that Malcolm could almost hear coming from Ashley's open mouth. The fake Ashley knew that once she was done cumming on Daddy's face, he needed a little relief as well.

She climbed down and bent over the table, "Daddy, fuck me please. You know what I need."

His patience was gone and he yanked the ruined panties down, almost ripping them with his trembling hands, as well as his own pants. He'd never gotten naked with her and she always kept the skirt on. He'd fuck her here, in the bed, in the bathroom, the details were immaterial. She was always Ashley and he never lasted long.

When it was over, Malcolm was eager for her to leave. He had a full day ahead of him and it was the last day of peace and quiet until he found a solution. He reached into his wallet and handed her another hundred. "Once again, it was a pleasure," he smiled as he gave her the cash. It was worth every penny and now that Ashley was going to be a constant, he had the feeling that he would be spending more and more time with Candy.

***

Malcolm was running late the next morning, which was unusual for him but after a long night of tossing and turning, it could hardly be helped. Even his goddamn coffee wasn't right and he had stormed into the kitchen to berate the housekeeper. Someone was going to catch hell for his shitty mood and lack of sleep. That's when he saw her.

He almost screamed, it was definitely a noise of alarm. Ashley was standing there by the sink. "What the fuck. I thought you weren't going to be here until later," he gasped.

His daughter cocked her head and smirked, "nice to see you too, Daddy." She was smoking and flicked the cigarette in the sink before taking a sip of her own coffee. "I got here last night," she told him and tapped her shoe on the floor, "I'm ready for work."

Ashley was ready and she was so unlike the Ashley that he remembered all too well. It was almost too much, standing in almost exactly the same spot where he'd lost his mind. This time, she was wearing a gray dress. It was snug and fitted, her bottom almost popped out of the back but it was long enough to be considered appropriate. The black stilettos were sexy but nothing that one of his secretaries wouldn't wear. She shifted her weight and finished her coffee and Malcolm could tell immediately that for once since she had grown them, her breasts were secured under a bra. Her hair was all black for once, not half purple or green and her black ringlets shone in the sunlight.

Where was his wild child now? And when had he become Daddy again?

Malcolm was speechless. The last time the two of them had been alone here, he was like a dog in heat. He still couldn't believe that he hadn't taken her up on her offer and rammed his cock so hard inside her that she cried. He had variations of the fantasy. In her mouth, her ass, pulling her head back by her hair, slapping her ass while he rammed her up against the cabinet. In his mind he'd fucked her every way possible right here. Now, she appeared to be a young lady and he didn't know if he was disappointed or if that possibly made it even hotter. Jesus, he had to pull himself together, this was not the way to start out. "Alright, well give me five minutes," for his erection to die down, "I need some decent coffee and we'll go."

Maybe he would get lucky and he'd have a heart attack before they got there, he told himself as he was straightening his tie and pushing his arms into his jacket sleeves. In the car alone with Ashley, dress or no dress, there was a high probability of trouble. He followed her to the limo and watched each cheek bounce when she walked, wondering if she had panties on. When she bent to get in the back, both he and the driver noticed that she did, pale pink and flesh-colored thighs highs too. No garters, just the band of lace circling her skin just under her ass. That was exactly where Malcolm wanted his hands, cupping her right there as he penetrated her sweet, slippery crevice.

The only way to do this was to hold his briefcase over his crotch for the remainder of the ride.

Twenty minutes later, there still hadn't been a word. Ashley was silent and stared out the window, no headphones but still totally disconnected. As turned on as Malcolm was, he was still pissed off about school. That's what she did to him, drove him to the very edge of losing his cool either way. "So what happened at school, Ashley?" he didn't know if he wanted the details but in case the cops were going to show up or he'd read about it in the paper, it was better to be forewarned.

She turned her head to look at him and pushed her long, black hair over her shoulder, "nothing, Daddy. Don't worry about it."

"They didn't expel you for nothing," he could smell her perfume rising from her skin. Something subtle and sweet, probably expensive and definitely purchased with his money. Malcolm wanted to gnaw on her.

Ashley sounded sad and that alone was shocking. How long had it been since the girl had actually cried about anything? "I met someone, I fell in love," it must not have ended well and Malcolm felt sorry for the poor kid. Ashley had probably wrecked him. "He's a teacher and he's married," she sniffed, "it was a stupid mistake."

If Malcolm was shocked when he first saw her, this news was earth-shattering. He put his hands up, he knew his mouth was open but he just didn't have the words. "Your mother said something about cheating," he mumbled, what was he talking about?

"Yeah, cheating on his wife," he saw her wipe her face before she could turn away, "Jesus, Daddy, do we have to talk about it?"

Even when she was behaving, he couldn't do anything right. Thank God she was the only child, he couldn't imagine having a second. "No, we don't," he wasn't going to stop thinking about it though. What had she done to the man? Did she tell his wife, did she finally make good on her threat to Patrick? Some poor sap had walked into that and Malcolm knew from experience that his daughter would get what she wanted. "What are you going to do now, Ashley?" he wanted her to give him a little credit, he was trying.

She was looking through her bag and pulled out a cigarette, "you mean once I'm over my broken heart?" She lit it and rolled down the window, blowing her smoke outside in a white trail.

"You can't smoke in here, honey," Malcolm told her, it was something a father would say, right?

Ashley turned to look at him and her blue eyes were wet and there was something about it that seemed particularly angelic. As if she were still his innocent, little girl staring at him. Like this, she was soft and warm and it even more seductive than watching her push her panties to the side. "Really, Daddy?" she asked him in a small voice, not challenging, it was just a question. "Why don't you have one?" she offered him the pack.

Malcolm wanted to grab her and pull her into his lap. He'd wreck that fucking dress but what difference did it make? He'd cover it in cum and buy her a new one when he was finished. The flash was vivid, Ashley's mouth was open as she cried out for more, her breasts bouncing as she rode the cock that had been longing for her for years. He was screwed. So instead he took a cigarette from her pack and muttered, "you know I quit ten years ago," before taking the first, long drag.

Ashley sounded more like her usual self when she laughed, there was always a devilish quality to her amusement. "No one ever really quits, Daddy," she finished hers and was silent again until they arrived at the office.

Malcolm pointed at her before they got out, "don't fuck things up here today, Ashley. You know what I mean." Anger and desire, the constant ebb and flow with her and had been for longer than he cared to admit.

She was far too close to him. She had one hand was on his chest and for a minute, Malcolm thought she just might mount him. Ashley might actually be able to read his fucking mind and that was the problem. She was smarter than him and wily. His heart hammered, her lips were just an inch or two away. "I know exactly what you mean, Daddy," she whispered and when she kissed him tenderly on the lips, it burned.

***

Ashley walked into his office without knocking, as if it hadn't been his office since before she was born. Leave it to Ashley to upend everything, even his privacy. As she approached him, all Malcolm could do was listen to her heels click across the floor and watch her hips move in the gray dress. "I brought you some dinner, Daddy," her voice was low and sweet. Ashley set a white, Styrofoam container on his desk before sliding into the loveseat behind the table to his right. She slid the shoes off and put her feet up in the chair across from her.

All day, he'd been craving her. He felt like something was crawling under his skin. It was the smell of her, the taste of her mouth that had left far too quickly, the sadness that clouded those brilliant, blue eyes. It was a rush of desire and he was like an addict all over again. It had been like this for months after she left. It had been one long unsatisfied wet dream until he'd found Candy. "What is it?" he asked, not hungry for food.

He needed a fix.

"It's whatever, meatloaf, the special," she made a face at him, as if he were the unfathomable one. "It's almost seven o'clock and you haven't eaten all day."

Malcolm watched her play with her hair as she looked out the window. She was right and if he couldn't satisfy one need, he could at least satisfy another. He opened the food and began to fork it in. He asked her with his mouth half full, "how was it today?"

She shrugged, "boring as shit but not bad. It's not school, so," she didn't finish that sentence. Ashley had a glimmer of wickedness in her eye when she asked, "So which of the two secretaries are you fucking, Daddy?" she grinned at him, "come on, you can tell me."

He swallowed quickly and raised his eyebrows, pointing to the outer office. "Are they out there?" he hissed. Leave it to Ashley, even when she was on her best behavior, she reveled in chaos.

Ashley rolled her eyes at him, "No, Daddy, we're all alone. Everyone else has a life."

Malcolm always stayed late. He didn't have one, at least not one that he wanted. "Haven't you heard don't shit where you eat, honey?" he asked her before shoving another bite of food in his mouth.

She giggled, "that's disgusting, especially when you're eating. Does that mean no, you're not screwing either of them because they work for you?"

"Sexual harassment will get you every time," Malcolm told her as he tossed the plastic fork in the half empty container. He'd eaten enough and it was crap but unusually sweet of her to think of him. "All of these bitches will burn you here, they're all on the take," besides, there was plenty of flesh that you could rent by the hour as you worked out your inner demons. Malcolm got up, stretched and walked to the table, "you know what I really need?" Besides a flash of his daughter's bare, lower lips. "Another cigarette."

Ashley moved her feet and gave him the seat. Malcolm reached for the ashtray that he kept for guests on the shelf and felt her slide her feet back into his lap. He'd been hard all day and right now was no exception. This was cruel and unusual but typical for his daughter. She handed him the smoke, "Daddy's off the wagon," Ashley said as she lit it for him.

He dared to touch her stockinged calf with his fingertips. Running his fingers up and down her thigh high slowly, slowly enough that perhaps she wouldn't notice the bulge that pressed against her leg. He asked, "so how did things get started with your Professor? I mean, how much older is he than you?" Lucky fucking bastard, Malcolm should pay a visit to the school and wring his neck though.

She leaned back in the loveseat, stretching and shifting her glorious hips. Ashley sighed and began the explanation that she couldn't give in the car. "I don't know, I thought he was very handsome, you know, for someone your age," she sounded as if she were humming as she remembered him. "He's sweet and funny and we just hit it off," the smile that she had for the professor ate Malcolm up. Where was that girl, who smiled like that for her father?

He puffed and continued touching her, gently so that she wouldn't move. His erection knocked for attention the whole time. Malcolm was dripping in his boxers, a river of precum with no relief in sight. He'd have to visit his favorite call girl in the morning once he'd dropped Ashley off, "and then what?"

Ashley moved her foot and her toes brushed his shaft. She had to notice that, didn't she? Jesus Christ, she had just touched his throbbing cock and Malcolm loved it and she didn't seem to be bothered one bit. "We made love one night," she said it like she was recalling every delicious, naked detail. "In his office, kind of like this," she gestured with her hands. There it was again, the tip of her toes on his dick and she had to be doing this on purpose and it was working so well. Malcolm wanted her hand on him though, or her juicy, little mouth if he were to be honest. "We were just talking and he got on his knees and didn't even ask and before I knew what was happening," Ashley bit her bottom lip, as if she wasn't sure if she should tell him, "I was about to cum."

Something snapped and he put out the cigarette and his body went to her. On his knees, on the floor, Malcolm found himself between Ashley's legs. His hands on his daughter's thighs and he rolled the hem of her dress up. It was slow and deliberate and he wasn't going to stop regardless of what she said. He could feel that his chin was wet. Malcolm was actually drooling at the thought of what he was about to take, whether or not permission was granted. When he reached the top of her pink panties, he sounded like an animal when he forced them down.

His daughter tasted even better than he had imagined that she would. Malcolm drank from her tiny, pink opening, lapping up all of the sweetness that trickled from her. How could she be so wet? What the hell had she been thinking of all day? It didn't matter, he was the beneficiary of it and when he felt her calves shake on his shoulders, his hard dick pulsed. When she moaned and whispered, "Daddy, oh God, Daddy," he wondered if he might cum in his pants.

Ashley's lips were bare and he could feel the warmth rising from her velvety, sweet flesh and he let his mouth lead him where it wanted to go. It had been an itch in the back of his brain, like a scab that shouldn't be picked. Malcolm had been obsessing over his little girl for so long that he couldn't be contained. Sliding his tongue around her perfectly round clit, slipping down to her sweet pussy, easing his way back up and rubbing his face against her wet delights. Time no longer mattered, he could easily stay here all night.

Her clit pulsed and when Malcolm sucked her delicate bud, his daughter trembled under him. Spurting a little, he bathed his face in Ashley's forbidden, teenage juices. His mouth was covered, his chin was dripping, Malcolm didn't care if his shirt was soaked through as long as it was Ashley's and as long as his baby girl let him drink her orgasm right from the source.

She cried out, louder this time, when his sticky lips were wrapped around her bud. As his tongue bathed her back and forth, his daughter purred, "Daddy, you're going to make me cum." Ashley shuddered and it sounded as if she were fighting it and Malcolm wanted her to let go. He licked her faster, a little more pressure, sinking his fingers into her satiny skin. He gulped her down and didn't ease up. When Ashley's climax began, it sounded like she was crying. Little sobs came from her and he felt her clit fluttering on his tongue as she quivered from head to toe. "Daddy," she said it over and over as she rocked under him, her fingers in his hair as she pushed her hips up from the loveseat and her hot, little torrent of wet spasms continued.

Malcolm continued to kiss her, his face pressed against her moist skin as he felt the waves roll down his daughter's body. He looked up to see his handiwork and saw Ashley's face, just as he'd imagined. Her hair was wild and her eyes were open wide, her lips were parted and wet and she bit the lower one for a moment before the last, loud sigh. With her innocent eyes and her rosy cheeks, she looked like a black-haired angel that had just been ravished.

His little girl combed his hair back with her dainty fingers and her voice was devoid of all usual sarcasm when she asked him in a small voice, "Daddy, what was that?"

He didn't have an answer. The truth was hardly something that he could admit to. Even now, it was almost frightening. "You just looked so beautiful and you sounded so sad," and he was jealous, just as she had accused him of in the past. Jealous of the man that had taken his little girl the way that he had wanted to. He wiped his chin and licked her taste from his fingers, there was no sense in wasting it. "I wasn't thinking," it had stopped being a thought long ago and it was entirely instinct.