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Near the end of hours together he shoved me onto my back and wedged his fingers between my pressed-together legs. He is a master of this particular sexual technique, so much so that I could hardly bear the stimulation.
“No more orgasms,” I begged him in play. He didn’t stop. “No Daddy, no more,” I breathed.
He wouldn’t stop, and soon my legs opened as I continued to murmur “No more, no more,” against his lips. But as one orgasm receded and before another could take its place the ridiculousness of the situation hit me.
I wiggled against his fingers. “When a pretty girl tells you ‘no’ but at the same time spreads her legs wide open, which do you listen to?”
He rubbed even more intensely as he answered. “With you I listen to the legs. Always the legs.”

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