My Life with Daddy Damond

I’m always a little overwhelmed for the first few seconds after Daddy takes me.  It’s incredibly intense to be taken so forcefully by a man with such a large and demanding cock.  But it’s an intensity that I’ve become accustomed to and welcome.  Within a few strokes my held breath has given way to little boyish moans and my hips start moving of their own accord, pushing back as he pulls out, rolling as he bottoms out in my pussy, trying to increase the already amazing sensations of my Daddy buried deep in my boypussy.

“That’s my boy, my little prince, my little slut, “ Daddy rumbles from behind me as he leans back to get a good look at my pink pussy lips stretched around his greasy, veined black thickness.  He loves to see the results of his handiwork almost as much as he loves seeing my face as I writhe in ecstasy beneath him.  His hands go to my hips, to my buttocks, spreading them wide to make the most obvious target for his forceful strokes.  

“Oh, Daddy,” I moan.  I love feeling his hands on me, manipulating my body for his pleasure.  It’s a tangible expression of his dominance and desire, and leaves me feeling possessed and yet deeply satisfied that I can bring pleasure to this sexy man.  There are days when I would be hoping that Daddy shifts into even higher gear and takes me roughly, making me cry out.  But today isn’t about that.  Today is about a Daddy and his boy, a Man and his wife, making love like they only can for each other.  

Daddy lifts up my right leg towards my chest and then pulls it up to hold against his chest, all the while deep stroking my pliant pussy as it rotates around his hardness.  He holds this position for a couple of minutes, straddling my left leg and taking advantage of my wide spread buttocks to dig deep, forcing out my gasps and moans of pleasure as his engorged cockhead rakes over that joybutton in my pussy before plunging deep and popping past that second sphincter deep inside me.  It’s a place deep in my guts that very few have been, but for Daddy it’s home.  His big black cock has carved out my pussy to fit him exactly like a glove, and he takes full advantage of that now, pulling back until his mushroom head is stretching my pussy lips before plowing back in as deep as he can.

“Daddy, daddy, oh god, so good Daddy!”

Goddamn, Texas is big, I thought to myself.  I’d been driving for 12 hours that day, and half of it was Texas.  I’d spent the night at this not-so-wonderful roadside motel halfway between Nashville and Memphis, and I’d been on the road since 6 o’clock in the morning.  Luckily, I was almost at my destination.

I was headed to Austin, TX, home of the University of Texas, which for the next 3 years was going to be my home while I completed my law degree.  Yeah, I know, I’ve heard all of the lawyer jokes at this point, but I was gonna be one anyway.  And I was idealistic enough to think I was going to make a difference in the world.

I’d flown down here from Boston about a month earlier with my buddy Mike who was going to be going to grad school at U.T., too.  We met at Middlebury’s LGBTQA group when we were both freshmen there, and had been friends all 4 years.  Mike and I both decided to continue our education, and as luck would have it, he got into U.T., too, going into a program for a Master’s of library science.  We’d decided to get a place together and so had flown down earlier in the summer to go around with a real estate person and find a place that we both liked.  We’d settled on this small house on the northeast side of town.  Close enough so that it wasn’t a long drive onto campus, but far enough out that we could afford a good sized place with its own yard.  After living in dorms for 4 years, I couldn’t wait to have my own backyard.  That was especially going to be nice because of how warm and beautiful Texas was going to be!  Vermont was pretty, but cold a lot of the year, so the idea of being able to hang out in the backyard and get my tan on practically year round was pretty damn appealing.

Coming into Austin, I followed my GPS directions and pretty easily found the house we were going to be renting.  It was on a quiet, residential street.  One of my new neighbors a couple of houses down was washing his car, and I saw a woman and her little girl walking their dog.  “This is going to be a nice place to live,” I thought.  I pulled my Jetta into the drive of our little brick house, 1104 Brockwood, and just barely had enough room to pull all the way in and get the Uhaul trailer I was dragging out of the street.  My folks and I had loaded it up back in Massachusetts, and now here I was, 3 days later in Texas and I was at my new home.

I stepped out of the car and noticed that my neighbor in 1106 was just heading out of his front door and getting into his SUV.  Now THAT is a handsome man!, was my immediate thought.

Yeah, I find men very attractive.  It was one of the reasons that dating in college was a little tough.  As much as some of the college boys were cute (and some of them were very cute!), nothing made my heart beat a little quicker like a strong, mature, man.  My new neighbor was definitely that.  He must have been 6’4” at least, and built like a football lineman.  Here was a man who could rock some gym shorts and a tank top.  I sighed a little inside at the inevitability of yet another straight man crush.  Of course, this was the first time I’d immediately felt that way about a black guy.

Yeah, he was black, and in my life experiences so far growing up in a middle-class Boston suburb and going to a small liberal arts college in Vermont, I hadn’t met that many black guys.  But I definitely wanted to meet him!  “Well you are going to be neighbors, “ that little voice in my head said, “So this time you’ll definitely have a chance to say hello.  Don’t be a pussy about it!”