Page 97 of My Big Fat Daddy Issues

"Awe, you and I both know that's a lie. And you call me Pawpaw. I like to hear you say it."

"Pawpaw." I breathe, pushing, pushing as he kicks the inside of my left leg.

"Here, let's get you in a better position." Rough hands work my leg to the side, grabbing my stuffed moose from the basket next to the door and positioning my foot on top. "Keep that knee out like that, I like a good view of my granddaughter when she's being a big girl."

"Please—" I start to beg for whatever this is to stop, but that sharp point on my nipple cuts off any plea I might have managed.

"Get that hand inside your cunt. I know you can do it, it's your hand or mine." He holds up the fist of his other hand in front ofmy face and the melon sized knuckled ball sends a blast of fear coursing through me.

"I'll do it, Pawpaw. I'll try."

He unfurls his fingers and runs his knuckles down my cheek. A half smile making him look evil but still, Pawpaw. "I'm always proud of how hard you try. You're my good girl, I love you, now do it." His voice softens, then hardens to stone and I close my eyes and wince, tucking my thumb and pushing and the stretch is blinding.

"It burns." I whimper as I push but when I open my eyes, his stare tells me he doesn't care.

My inner walls resist then give, my vision flickers like the end of an old movie flapping in the projector.

A half sob, half moan croaks from my throat and I hate how good this feels. I hate that he's watching. I hate that I like him watching.

"That's my girl." His words are lust and gravel and my body gushes around my hand. "Look at you. Stuffing that little cunt so full for your Pawpaw. Keep going. Something else big is coming for you and I want you ready. I know you want my cock, but you have to earn it."

I whimper and push deeper, my hand sinking in to the wrist as I gasp. Everything inside me lights up with a fury of sensation. Pain and fullness and a desperate, clawing need for more, more.

The tendons in my shoulder and wrist ache from the strained position but my clit is on fire.

I'm close, getting closer as I turn my fingers into a fist inside the heat of my body, my eyes roll back—

"That's enough." He grabs my wrist and jerks my hand free. The extraction is sudden and graceless and my pussy clenches around the nothingness desperate and throbbing for something. He holds my hand up between us, fingers shining, and studies it.

Then he presses it to his mouth. Watching my grandfather's lips closing around my index finger with his tongue working the taste of me with a satisfied groan is sick and more erotic than I would admit outside of this room.

He sucks each finger clean, his eyes locked on mine. When he bites the pad of my thumb, I jolt and a small, broken sound slips from my lips.

"Every time I sit at your table," he mumbles against my wet fingers, "I think about this. What you'd taste like. What sounds you'd make." He lets my hand fall. "Your daddy's sitting right there asking me about cattle prices and all I can think about is getting my mouth on his little girl's pussy."

My stomach drops and my cunt pulses and I want to be sick and I want to come and I can't tell the difference anymore.

He crouches.

Oh my god.

Even on his haunches, he's enormous. His shoulders spanning the width of the doorframe, his hands gripping my hips like I might try to run again. He returns the knife into wherever it came from at his back, hooks my left leg over his shoulder and I'm spread wide, one foot on the floor, totally open to him.

"Pawpaw, don't." But my voice is thin and reedy and we both know I don't mean it. Or I do mean it. Or I mean it and want him to do it anyway.

"Don't what?" He drags his tongue through my folds — one long, slow stroke, base to clit — and my hand flies to the top of his head. Not to push him away. To grab his hair and take something from him.

No. Don't give it to this, it's twisted and sick.

I pull my hand back with a choked sob.

"Pawpaw, I can't. It's wrong."

He laughs against my pussy. "Is it, baby? Then, fight me. Makes my cock harder every time you pretend you don't want this." He sticks out his tongue, pulling my outer lips apart with long, rough fingers and circles my clit.

I grab his hair. I can't stop what's happening to me.

He eats me like the man in my dream.