Saturday, May 02, 2015

Ginger Daddy...

Some mornings are dreary, and some are awfully pretty.

Today, I woke up to a stunning view. The curtains over the big windows blocked out most of the night, but since my Daddy needed to see what was out there, he had pulled the curtains back enough to let in some brilliant sun. And there he was, standing there, all curves and beef, lit up and looking gorgeous.

He must have been cold because he had put on a shirt that covered him to his thighs. Those massive thighs I'm used to feeling against my chin. The calves I'm used to feeling in my hands. And the rest of him that usually lies next to me. I reached over to his side of the bed, felt it cold, and wondered what he'd been doing all his time.

He leaned forward to see more, and the shirt lifted up a bit, showing that spot where his ass cheeks met his thighs. I couldn't help myself. I grunted when I saw it, and he turned around.

"Shit. I woke you." His voice still surprises me. It's not the bass rumble you imagine when you see a beefy Daddy walking towards you, but it never sounds anything but comfortable and solid.

"It's alright," I say, "I like it when you wake me up with views like this." His face breaks into a smile.

"Ohhh, you mean THIS?" He turns, looking at me over his shoulder, reaching back with his hands to pull the shirt a little bit higher. I see those thick globes appear, blond fuzz visible in the morning light. Fuzz all the way up the curve to the tuft of hair in the small of his back. I can't help it. My cock stirs, and Daddy watches it lift the bed sheet.

"It's so easy to get you started." He crosses over with a growl, reaches down to grip my thickness in his meaty hand, and starts to squeeze it. I whimper and grunt and groan. "And so easy to manhandle too."

He strokes my cock through the bed sheets, looking me in the eye, biting his lip as my eyes roll around and my mouth hangs open. I can feel my balls churning, feel my cockhead starts to leak. "Damn, Daddy," I groan, "You are getting me going."

"That's how I like it," he growls back at me. He reaches with his free hand, lifts his shirt tail up, leans forward, letting me see the full curve of his buns. I reach out with my hand and grab a handful. "That's right, boy. Get your fill."

I do. I palm his butt cheek. It's bigger than my hand, much bigger, but when I squeeze, it squeezes back. I give it a pat, watch it shake just the slightest before the muscle in it holds it still. I run my hands through the fuzz, stretching out for the crack, wanting to feel hairs in between his buns. Daddy moans a bit as I manhandle his ass, his fists tightens more, my dick pulsing in his hand.

I reach the crack, and Daddy moves a little closer, turns his body enough that I can reach a finger into crack, dig around for hole. I feel wetness and my eyes find Daddy's eyes. They look back at me, pretty blues in a ruddy face, surrounded by soft gingery fur.

"I still got some of you in me, Boy." My dick throbs ever hard. I groan loudly. Daddy pulls his hand off and leans down to smelt precum on the bed sheet and says:

"But I always want more."

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