I pushed his panties to the side and went down on him, my tongue finding his clit instantly. He gasped, and then the floodgates opened. “D-Daddy?” he whimpered, and OMG, it was so different from Gwyneth’s loud, performative moans. Radar was just a frantic, whiny mess, trembling under my mouth. “Am I your good boy? Am I your favorite?” he begged between sobs, and I knew he needed this. I pulled back for a second, looking him right in his watery blue eyes. “You’re Daddy’s perfect, good boy,” I growled, and the way he came undone, frantically repeating “I love you, Daddy,” was everything. I kept praising him, telling him how good he was, until he was just a shaking, sobbing puddle of pleasure. Period.Low-key obsessed? Spill more tea here or peep other stories!
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