Chapter Two

As Daphne's eyes open, her already impossibly wide grin spreads even further.

"Presents!" she squeals. "You didn't have to get me presents!"

It took some time for Daphne to realize she was worthy of the love I bestow upon her every day and even longer for her to realize that just because she grew up without many things, she doesn't have to deprive herself of them now. Every day I continue to show her just how important she is with my words and actions.

And of course, I simply love to spoil the hell out of my Little Girl, too.

"I know I didn't have to get you presents, Sweetheart. I wanted to get you presents. Not only because it is your birthday, but because all good Daddies should spoil their Little Girls from time to time. But I do have one very important question for you."

Playfully, I wrap a hand around each of her bare ankles and tug her down toward the end of the bed.

Daphne screams—loud enough to wake the entire small town of Johnson Creek—and not for the first time, I'm glad we decided to have Joseph spend the night with my mom at her apartment instead of at home with us.

"Hush, woman." It comes out stern, but I can't hide the grin that spreads across my face.

She giggles in response. "I can't help it! What's this very important question you just have to ask me?"

With a free hand, she picks up a throw pillow and tosses it at me.

Damn woman is full of spice and sass. It's truly a wonder how it all fits into her short stature. Surely, what she lacks in size, she makes up for in personality.

"Well, with that behavior, you're not getting anything."

I pretend to move from the bed, but she flings herself into my arms. "No, I'm sorry, Daddy! I was just being silly, I promise. I didn't mean to actually hit you!"

She's full of shit, and she knows it.

Still, I continue on with my original course of action.

"Would my Little Girl like these three presents now, and then Daddy can have his way with you," she begins to nod her head, but I continue speaking, "or would you like Daddy to have his way with you first, and then you can open not only these three presents but the entire stack of them that I have waiting downstairs for you as well while you eat your birthday breakfast in the kitchen?"

Pushing away from me and up to her knees, her small breasts jiggle in the most alluring way before she throws herself at me once again with unbridled excitement. "That one! Definitely that one!"

Last year, as we sat around the living room with our son Joseph, a pile of potential birthday party location brochures scattered across the coffee table, I found out that my wife had never had a true birthday party.

It broke my heart.

My sweet, kind, loving wife who would give a complete stranger the shirt off her back had never experienced something as simple and as joyful as a birthday party.

I started planning for today later that very night as Daphne soaked in the tub, the cogs in my analytical brain turning at a speed faster than they had ever spun before with every possible way I could think of to make today the best day ever.

Ever one to oblige my wife's decision, I untangle her limbs from around my frame before moving the presents to our dresser, unwilling to allow them to become a casualty of all the ways I'm about to wreck my wife's pussy.

I flop back into bed with all the grace of a man jumping off the high dive for the first time.

My sleep pants have long since been fully removed, both of us in our birthday suits despite today being only one of our actual birthdays. "I might be about to cook you breakfast after we're done here, but first thing is first, Daphne. Come up here and sit on Daddy's face. Let me taste my favorite meal before I go downstairs into the kitchen and make you yours."

Happily, she obliges, dragging her body seductively up the length of mine in a slow, languid way that proves she has absolutely no idea exactly how much I have packed into this day for her.

Daphne kisses up my torso, nipping and licking with sloppy, wet noises that make my dick jealous. When her pussy is level with my cock, she pauses, grinding against me with her dripping cunt before continuing her languid assault on my body.

Then finally, she's in position, hovering over my mouth as I take one last breath before she lowers herself onto my tongue like the goddamn delicacy she is.

With one flat lick of my tongue, I taste her arousal, drinking in the complete hold my wife has on my senses. I might be Daddy, but we both know this woman holds me in the palm of her hand, all the power dangling over my head with her perfect fucking body and her perfect fucking soul.

Everything is Daphne.

I see her when I open my eyes, looking up the length of her body and locking gazes as she grinds against my tongue, as she takes and takes like the greedy girl she is. I feel her as I run my hands over her skin, loving the smooth texture under the sensitive pads of my fingertips. I hear her moans and whimpers as I lick and suck at her hard, sensitive clit. And I smell her sweet, sweet scent as she rides my face as if she'll die if she stops.

It's a buffet for my senses that I want to gorge myself on until I'm too stuffed to move.

"Fuck, Daddy, that feels so good."

One hand leaves the punishing grip I've been keeping on Daphne's hips, and as she bends over at the waist, using the headboard for better balance, I slide two fingers deep into her soaking pussy, fucking her in tandem with my tongue.

It's one of her favorite ways to come, her juices flooding my face as she bucks against me. Sometimes, it's as it is now, her pleasure the one we chase together. Other times, she rides my tongue in reverse until she folds forward, taking my cock in her wet mouth and greedily sucking me until we explode together in a cacophony of moans and pants, of gasps and grunts.

But no matter how it ends, one thing is for certain.

Despite our best efforts, we'll certainly have to change every linen on this bed when we're done.

Momentarily pausing to catch my breath, I keep teasing her cunt with my fingers. "How much do you want?"

A wicked grin spreads across her gorgeous face. "Give me all of it, Daddy. I want to feel your entire hand inside of me."

Esteemed jurors, after much trial and error along with much direct examination, we have found that both partners enjoy fisting.

You can take the man out of the courtroom, but can you truly ever take the courtroom out of the man?

"Focus on your breathing, Baby. And you know what to say to make me stop. Tell me, Daphne, what's your safe word?"

"Red, Daddy."

I'd smile at her if my face wasn't half blocked by her cunt, but I'm sure she already knows though my continual muffled praise just how proud I am of her. "Good job, Baby. And if you can't use your words, just tap me twice anywhere you can reach, and I'll stop. Now, remember to breathe, okay?"

"I'm ready." She nods, giving me the consent she always so willingly hands to me.

This time, when my fingers enter her, I stretch her out, scissoring deep inside her body with slow, deliberate motions. I slide a third in easily and then a fourth without much resistance, working them slowly in and out of her drenched pussy as she treats me to a delectable chorus of whimpers.

And although she is soaked, I reach ungracefully to a small travel-sized bottle of lube that I like to keep on hand for situations just like this.

No pun intended.

As Daphne hovers above me, her hands still steadying her body on the headboard, I drizzle an oversized drop of the clear liquid into my palm and bring it back to her already open cunt. I slide the liquid through her folds before making sure my hand is equally as coated.

And then, with measured moves we've practiced again and again, I inch my entire fist inside my wife's trembling, moaning body.

I stretch her past the discomfort that passes through her body, past the point of pain, and into a state of blissed-out nirvana where the only things that exist are me and her and the sounds we make together in this room.

I push myself down on the mattress while my fist remains inside her pussy, needing to see for myself how gorgeous Daphne looks stretching wide to accommodate my hand. How well she takes me despite the bite of pain I know is always initially involved with working my entire fist into her cunt. "Look at you, Baby. Look at how good you take my fist."

I'm sure by now a light sheen of sweat has broken out across her bare skin. It always does when I'm pushing her body to its limits. It should frighten me that she pushes herself to accept me in this way that is often seen as extreme, but when I work my entire hand inside my wife's cunt and feel her squeeze, it's nothing short of transcendent each and every time.

Daphne whimpers, and for a split second, I think it's too much. I slow my movements but feel her clench around my fist. "Don't you fucking dare go easy on me. You know I can take it, Colin. Give me what you have."

It's like I'm a puzzle that only she knows how to solve, always one step ahead of me.

Again, I begin to move, filling her fully as her cunt continually pulls me deeper and deeper inside. "I should pull my fist out of your pussy right now, shove your face down into this mattress, and blister your ass for calling me Colin in this room. It's Daddy in here, and you know it, Daphne."

Daphne's hips buck against me wildly, her impending release closer and closer as I hit every place inside her at once.

"Please don't. I'll be good for you. I'll be so good, Daddy. Please just don't stop!"

She's pleading, begging me in a tone so frantic, it sounds as if she'll simply combust if I stop.

Obscene noises fill the room, a wet, squelch, squelch, squelch as I move in and out, rotating my wrist as I do.

It's so fucking hot, I'm almost on fire.

With ease that hasn't come without practice, I leave Daphne's body for a split second, turning onto my stomach with a move most Marvel super heroes would be proud of. My hips immediately grind into the mattress beneath them of their own accord, seeking a desperate, needy friction.

I don't think I could stop them if my life depended on it.

I rut into the soft, plush blanket, my dick almost painful from the blood coursing through it. "God damn it, Daphne. I could fucking come just from watching you. Look at you. Look at you riding my fist. Dripping around my wrist with need. That's it, Baby. Squeeze that cunt nice and tight around Daddy's hand."

She whimpers and moans and writhes on me as she pushes herself harder against my hand while maintaining her balance in a way that puts trained ballerinas to shame.

"I'm so close," Daphne manages to pant out. "Knowing this turns you on as much as it turns me on, feeling you claim me from inside out. I want you to come, too. I need you to come with me."

One of her hands drops from its position against the headboard, coming down to find the needy little clit I've been ignoring as I fulfilled my own desire to stare at the place my hand is disappearing with rapt attention. "That's it, Baby. Rub yourself for me. Give me this gift, and then you can open your presents. Be my good girl and come for me."

The words spur her on, only a few more seconds passing before she screams into the room around us. Her entire body goes taut as a bow ready to be snapped as her cunt convulses again and again.

"Going to come," I tell her through gritted teeth.

Then finally, as I roar my own release, spilling into the blanket below without as much as a touch from my wife's hand or a lick of her hot, wet mouth, I explode—cum pooling between me and the mattress in something that is sure to be a sticky fucking mess well-worth cleaning up.

And before I can move my hand from Daphne's still pulsating pussy, knowing she certainly must be ready for a break, she stops me. "Just a little more. Let me make a mess for you. Let me be your dirty, little girl."

Once, twice, three more times I flex my hand deep inside, the over stimulation sending Daphne over the edge again, a sob tearing from her chest as she detonates like a bomb mere nanoseconds before a building comes crashing down into a pile of rubble.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn't keep my hand inside her body a second longer. She pushes me out with force as wave after wave of warm liquid pours from her body, coating our pillowcases and sheets before pooling into a puddle under her body then finally, quickly seeping into the fabric below our bodies.

Lucky for us, we invested in one of those waterproof mattress pads as well as one of those fancy—and way too expensive but absolutely worth it—liquid absorbing blankets, making cleanup something I barely have to think about.

Daphne moans, a sound that comes from deep within her sated soul as she collapses to the side, falling into a heap atop the mattress. "Daddy," she wines, the sound nasally and Little, "I think you broke me."

Not for the first time today, I pull her into my arms, trying my hardest to move us out of the shared, spent arousal we left on the bed. I kiss her lips, lingering at the taste of cherries that always seem to be present on her tongue.

"I might have broken you, Little Star, but don't forget, Daddy only ever breaks you so he can put you back together again."

She cozies into me as if she could take a nap.

And knowing Daphne, she probably could.

But we don't have time for naps today.

I make a mental note to give her extra cuddles tonight, knowing she always loves to be a little extra closer after we share something as intense as we just did.

"Come on, shower time."

She protests, sinking further against me. "I don't want to."

Just like any good Daddy, I know exactly what will light a fire under her ass.

"Then, I guess I'll just take all those presents back that I bought you and cancel all the plans I had made for us today. Is that really how you would prefer to spend your birthday, Little Star?"

Before the last word leaves my mouth, she's halfway to the bathroom, leaving me to deal with the messy blankets while chuckling at my girl the entire time.