Anything He wants

DADDY GUSHES OVER MY UNIFORM

“So, what do you think?” I ask, lifting my arms and spinning around.

The way my stepdad’s mouth hangs open as he sits at the kitchen table,

the way his eyes are unwilling to blink, I already have my answer, but he says something that makes my blood rush anyway.

“Wow, you look smokin’.”

I blush, even though that’s the exact response I’m looking for. Our new uniforms are constructed just the right way to draw all sorts of attention, whether good or bad.

My boss decided not too long ago to do an overhaul of his restaurant, to turn it into something a lot more provocative. Jay’s Speedway is a themed restaurant all things cars, and the waitresses got a makeover as well: we’re now pit stop girls, and we’re here to service all the hotrods that come in! You can tell I’m a little excited about it. The other girls weren’t, and a number quit before it could all become official, but I wanted nothing less than to show off my body. I’m a thin, wavy brunette, and the tips I got for dressing like a normal waitress were crazy, so I’m absolutely ecstatic to see what my new skimpy outfit will bring in through all the leering guys. The new outfit is a slim faux-denim leotard. The straps on my shoulders go all the way down before they meet above my ass, completely baring my back. The front has a large oval of missing fabric from below my tits to above my pussy. This is the most skin you’ll see from any of these ‘sexy waitress’ restaurants. I’d be amazed if we don’t end up getting shut down in the near future, but I’ll make sure to wring every last cent I can out of it before that happens.

The way my stepdad looks at me is an added bonus on top of that potential paycheck. My stepdad’s not too much older than me-he’s in his mid thirties-so he’s the perfect candidate to test out my uniform on. He’s the

demographic the restaurant is shooting for-handsome guy with a devil

may care attitude-so if he approves, I can imagine every guy who walks in will approve as well.

But I think his looks are piquing my interest in a whole other way, too! The way my stomach is turning when his eyes scan me up and down, when he drinks me in, makes my skin start to prickle. I’ve never thought of him in any sexual way before, but then again, I’ve never been dressed like this in front of him. When my outfit arouses him, it arouses me in turn to see his interest heightened. I had no idea I could have this draw on him.

For some reason, I just want to tease him with it.

“Here,” I say, grabbing a sheet of paper and holding it like a menu, “let me practice my spiel on you.”

He throws his hands up, “Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

I clear my throat, stepping up to the table. I hand him the menu. “Hey, sweety. How’re you doin’ today?” I’ve always affected a southern accent when I serve. I think it helps to give me a dainty, cute air that throws people off a little bit. Get them comfortable and they’ll open they’re wallets to you.

I bend over, placing my hands on the table as I give off an aura of relaxation. The effect I want, though, is immediate as daddy’s eyes jump from the page to my breasts, pushed together between my arms and popping out of my tight top.

Daddy’s awestruck, mimicking a deep swallow, as if his nerves have got the better of him. At least I think he’s playing around, but when he takes a little too long to respond, I realize it’s having a stronger effect on him that I thought.

I have to stifle a smirk from crossing my lips.

“Umm”-he clears his throat-“I’m doing great.”

That is not like daddy, who’s one of those talkative types who’s always up for a conversation, even with strangers. And I’m no stranger to him, so his reticence is absolutely charming.

“Just great, huh?” I tease.

He smiles, takes a deep breath, and composes himself. “Better, now that you’re here.”

That’s the type of banter I’d expect from him. “Me?” I put my hand to my heart, emphatically expressing surprise. “Now how could I make you feel better? We haven’t even started talkin’ yet.”

The look daddy gives me is both seductive and mischievous. “I don’t think you need to do a whole lot of talkin’ to make a man happy.” The surge of pleasure that flows through me makes me giddy. Is it because it’s daddy saying these things, or do I just like the attention? It’s like butterflies, and I can almost feel my brain start to shut off. Am I going to feel this way every time a guy talks to me like this? I have to be careful if that’s true, because the last thing I want is to be turned on by every guy that walks in with a smooth mouth.

“Oh, quit it,” I say, playfully.

“No,” he says, “I’m serious. There are plenty of ways I can imagine you making me happy.” His hand slips out from under the table, landing on my thigh and sliding up.

I jerk almost uncontrollably, standing up straight, the sudden sensation startling me, but also firing a jolt of erotic energy up my body. “Daddy, what

are you doing?”

“I’m testing you out,” he says. “You look too good to resist, and you might get a guy or two who gets handsy, so you need to know how to handle that type of situation.”

I nod, understanding what he’s saying, but focusing intently on the warmth of his hand rubbing my thigh.

“Umm…” I mumble, licking my lips as I try my hardest to think of something to say.

“Come on, babygirl. Every moment you don’t stop it is another moment you goad a guy on.”

“Goad?” I ask.

“Yep,” he says, his fingers scratching my skin, “guys like it when a girl loses her words. It’s makes them feel more powerful.”

Losing my words is right, strange for a vocal girl like me, because all I can do is repeat him. “More powerful?”

His finger slide under the band of my leotard, grazing my skin in the crease of my thigh. It’s incredibly sensitive, more so that it was once covered, and the soft caress of his fingertips sends a shiver into my stomach.

“Daddy…” I groan.

“What are you going to do, babygirl? How are you going to escape when a guy does something like this?” His other hand lands on my bare stomach, his palm sliding over my bellybutton.

My stomach quivers at his touch. Am I really unable to stop him? What if something like this really does happen at the restaurant? What then? “The guy’s getting more brave by the second. He’s looking around to see if anyone’s watching. He’s thinking: I can’t believe this girl’s letting me do this to her. She must be a freak.”

I shake my head, but I can’t get a response out. Daddy sees that, smiles, and his hand circling my stomach dives down below, cupping my pussy. I twitch as his fingers press the fabric into my slit. I’m not wearing any underwear-the suit’s too tight and it’d show!-so the pressure is intense on my labia and clit.

It takes only a few swipes of his hand to force a moan from my lips.

“Uh oh,” he says, “you just gave this man ammunition to push on.” Daddy looks around the room, pretending to check if anyone’s watching his table. When he thinks the coast is clear, he slides the fabric covering my pussy out of the way. His other hand slides across my slit, collecting the arousal I’d been building up.

“He feels you’re wet. He knows you’re good to go.”

He slips his middle finger into my cunt, pushing it all the way in. I freeze, suppressing a moan that so badly wants to desert me. I look around. Oh my god! I’m also pretending like I’m in the middle of the restaurant, hoping no one sees what’s going on! I should be stopping this, not playing this game.

But when he waves his finger back and forth, brushing against my vaginal wall, lightly tapping against my g-spot, I fall forward, placing my hands back on the table to brace myself.

“This guy now knows that his slutty waitress is enjoying it too much to say anything. He knows she’s desperate for his attention.”Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

I shake my head, trying to refute him.

“He wants to go all the way with her. She’s so wet it’s making him rock hard, the smell of her pussy wafting over the table.”

He looks around. “But he can’t do it here. He can’t have his way with her in the middle of the restaurant.”

“Daddy…” I whisper, working my hardest to keep my moans from alerting the people who don’t actually exist.

“Her complaints aren’t enough for him. She’s not fighting it hard enough.” Daddy stands up from the table and grabs a hold of my hand. “He knows he needs to get her somewhere quiet.”

Daddy starts walking out of the kitchen, dragging me along behind him.

“He knows this is the girl’s last chance. If she doesn’t try to get away now, he knows he’s going to go all the way with her.”

The thought scares me. Could a guy really drag me along and have his way with me? Would I really allow that, incapable of stopping my own urges?

He looks back at me as I follow behind. “The thought of her willingly following him is making him harder and harder. All he can do is imagine what it’d feel like to be inside her, to ravish her entirely. He grips her hand hard”-daddy squeezes my hand tight-“getting more turned on as they get closer and closer to the bathroom.”

The bathroom?

Daddy opens the bathroom door and ushers me in, closing it behind us and locking it.

“He’s got her where he wants her and can’t control himself anymore.

This slut’s going to get it good.”

Daddy’s body rushes into me, pressing me up against the wall. I can feel his hard cock straining in his pants, pushing against my thigh as daddy’s aggression feeds both our libidos. Daddy grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall on either side of me.

“He has her trapped, right where he wants her, right where he can do whatever he wants with her body.”

I feel the heat rise to my face, burning as daddy’s piercing, animalistic eyes tear through me, feeding on pure passion. Does daddy realize what he’s

doing, how hard he’s pushing me? Does he know he’s taken this role play way

too far?

“Daddy, I don’t think we should.”

He shakes his head, “It’s too late, babygirl. Your chance to say no was out in the kitchen. Now that you’re locked in the bathroom with a man you wouldn’t deny before, who’s lusting after you, you have no choice but to get fucked.”

His lips seal on mine, preventing me from raising a complaint. His lips are manic, consumed by lust as his tongue ventures deep into my mouth. I can barely reciprocate, my own mouth unable to keep up with daddy’s frantic pace.

Daddy leans into my ear to whisper, “Now that he’s got you in the bathroom, now that he knows he has control of your body, the man’s going to do all he can to humiliate you at your job.”

Daddy pushes me down to my knees, keeping one hand on top of my head to control me, while using his other to unzip his pants. In one swift movement, he yanks his pants down to his thighs, revealing a huge, veiny cock, swollen to capacity, ready to burst from all the thirst pouring into it.

“But-“