LAX Daddy - Parts 1 & 2

[Deleted Member]

Part One

Eleven and a half hours. That’s how long the flight is from LHR to LAX, and my body

felt every single one of them as I stood at baggage claim. It was 11 a.m. local time,

and jet lag was hitting hard, making me question the wisdom of flying halfway across

the world to meet someone I’d never even met in person.

 

By the time I checked into my hotel around 1 p.m., I had just enough time to freshen

up and slip into the outfit I’d chosen carefully for today: a matching black lace bra,

panties and suspender belt with sheer stockings, hidden beneath a knee-length

black skirt and silk blouse. I topped it off with a black jacket and ballet pumps.

The cab crawled through traffic for nearly an hour. I hadn’t realised LA could sprawl

so endlessly, or that the traffic could be so unforgiving. My hands were trembling as I

stepped out, folder in hand, heart pounding. The combination of nerves and

excitement caused a pool to form in my underwear.

 

“Hi, can I help you?” The receptionist’s voice was smooth, paired with a smile that

seemed effortlessly poised.

 

The office gleamed with polished glass and professional restraint. I suddenly felt so

out of place that I nearly turned and fled.

 

“Oh, um, yes, I’m here to see Brad Hayes,” I managed, stumbling over my words.

 

“Your name, please?”

 

“Bella Andrews?”

 

Her smile widened. “Of course. You’re his three o’clock. Follow me.”

 

“Would it be ok if I used the restroom first?” I asked sweetly, though I had other

motives in mind.

 

When I returned, we walked the corridor together. My fists clenched and released at

my sides in a futile attempt to calm the shake in my hands.

 

What the hell am I doing? I should run. Just turn around and leave. Christ, Bella, this

is insane.

 

We turned a corner, and the receptionist stopped at a glass office door, tapping

gently. My eyes darted past her, and there he was. Black hair, tall, broad-

shouldered, devastatingly handsome. His head lifted at the sound, his gaze sliding to

me, mouth parting just slightly. My stomach dropped.

 

He gestured us in.

 

“Ms. Andrews for you,” the receptionist announced, ushering me forward. “Can I get

you something to drink?”

 

“Water, please,” I managed, my voice thin, my mouth feeling like the Sahara.

 

His eyes lingered on me as I entered, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

 

“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. “How was the

flight?”

 

“It was a flight.” I shrugged lightly, offering a small smile.

 

I crossed my legs as I sat, hands folded neatly in my lap. He pretended to be busy

with his monitors, but his eyes sliding to me in stolen glances told me where his real

focus was.

 

The door opened again, and the receptionist reappeared with a glass of water.

 

“Thank you,” I said warmly, taking it from her before she exited.

 

“Jet lag catching up with you, baby?” His tone had shifted to a deeper and more

intimate cadence, and I felt a flutter.

 

I tilted my head, smiling coyly. “Why don’t we skip the small talk—tell me how hard

you are right now?”

 

Colour flushed across his face.

 

“I never took you for a blusher, Daddy,” I teased, laughing softly.

 

His voice dropped into a growl. “By the time you leave LA, I’ll do more than make

you blush.”

 

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I lifted the water, deliberately slow, letting him watch my

lips as I drank.

 

“Well, I do have some papers for you.” My tone was playful. “After all, this is

supposed to be a business meeting.”

 

I rose, walked around the desk, and opened the folder before him. Our proximity,

dangerously close as I brought his attention to the text on the paper.

 

--- I have a surprise for you, Daddy.

 

I flipped to the next page.

 

--- Run your hand up my inner thigh.

 

His hand slid behind me, resting just inside my knee. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers

traced upward, pausing at the lace edge of my stocking. His breath hitched.

 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured.His fingers pushed higher, nudging my skirt up as I turned the page.

 

 

--- Keep doing, Daddy.

 

“You realise you’re topping from the bottom, baby.” His voice was low and strained.

 

I only smiled, biting back a gasp as his fingers grazed my slick heat.

 

“You’ll be the death of me, Bella.” He slipped one finger inside me, pushing deep.

 

I braced myself against the desk, feigning interest in the “documents” as someone

passed the glass wall outside.

 

He worked his finger in and out with measured control, eyes fixed on my face. My

jaw went slack, breath quickening as I fought to stifle a whimper.

 

“That’s my good girl.” He withdrew, then lifted the same finger to his mouth, moaning

softly as he tasted me.

 

I turned to the final page: a photo of me in the same lingerie set I now wore under my

clothes.

 

“Keep the documents.” My voice was light as I closed the folder and slipped it toward

him.

 

I picked up my bag, reaching into my jacket pocket. “I’ll see myself out.”

 

He reached for my hand when I offered it, only to find I’d left something in his palm.

 

Confusion flickered across his face before realisation struck. My soaked underwear.

 

“Fuck.” He growled the word, shoving them into his pocket.

 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Brad.” I smiled sweetly, turning on my heel without a

backwards glance.

 

 

Part Two

 

A grin stretched across my face as I rounded the corner, until the sharp echo of

footsteps closed in behind me.

 

A hand clamped onto my arm, yanking me into a side corridor.

 

“Don’t say a word,” Brad hissed.

 

It was the same tone I’d heard over the phone—the one he used when his frustration

burned hot with need.

 

He swiped a key card, shoved me inside, and blocked the door with a stack of

boxes.

 

The dim light revealed rows of metal racks stacked with archival boxes and supplies.

 

His heavy breathing filled the room, and our eyes locked, black and hungry. I melted

under the weight of his stare as all my earlier sass and bravado dropped away.

 

“Drop your bag. Take off your jacket,” he rasped.

 

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, heat rising as slickness dampened my thighs.

 

The moment my jacket and bag hit the floor, he was on me, pushing me against the

racks and claiming my mouth with a bruising kiss. My hands pressed to his chest as I

surrendered to the urgency of it.

 

A cold click snapped around my wrist. I glanced down to see silver cuffs glinting in

the dim light.

 

“Hands above your head, baby,” he ordered, voice low. I obeyed.

 

He tugged my arms upward, forcing me onto tiptoe, and secured the cuffs to the

metal upright, leaving me trembling on the balls of my feet.

 

“Open your mouth,” he growled, pulling my soaked underwear from his pocket and

stuffing them between my lips.

 

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” His breath burned against my ear before his mouth

trailed down my neck, biting and kissing.

 

He shoved my silk shirt up, over my head and to my wrists and ordered me to hold it

there. Stepping back, he folded his arms, thumb stroking his bottom lip as he studied

me. His ravenous gaze made me want to shrink away yet left me trembling with

need.

 

His eyes caught on something nearby. Snatching a box cutter from the shelf, he

yanked my bra forward and sliced it open, releasing my breasts with a snap.

 

He cupped them, testing their weight, then buried his face between them—kissing,

biting, devouring.

 

“Such amazing tits, baby,” he sighed, shifting his attention to my nipples.

 

He rolled each one hard between his fingers, relentless in his teasing, and desperate

heat coiled in my core. I cursed myself for ever admitting how close I could come

from nipple play alone as bolts of pleasure travelled from them down between my

legs.

 

His gaze flicked up, studying my face like a predator reading prey. My breathing

broke into ragged gasps, and a muffled whimper slipped past my gag.

 

He stopped instantly, palms settling against my ribs, his lips brushing my ear so

close the hair on my neck stood on end.

 

“Breathe. Give yourself a moment.”

 

I sagged against him, resting my head on his shoulder as my breathing steadied.

 

“Good girl. This is going to be really hard for you—but no cumming. Do you

understand?”

 

I nodded, weary and aching, but desperate to please him.

 

Sliding down my body, he sank to his knees and pushed up my skirt. His mouth

began its slow, torturous path up my thighs. Lifting one leg onto his shoulder, he

buried his face in my molten core.

 

We’d talked about his love of eating pussy, his obsession with edging, but I hadn’t

expected a lizard-tongued devil that had me trembling on the brink within moments.

I whined, shook my head, pleading silently. He stopped. Then began again.

 

Again. And again. Each time shorter. Each time quicker. Each time, my balance on

the knife’s edge became more precarious. I was dizzy, panting, desperate.

 

Finally, just as release almost tore through me, he stopped again and pulled my skirt

back into place, leaving me bereft and on the verge of tears. I clamped my thighs

together, desperate for friction, but he ***d his knee between them.

 

“Your punishment for trying to top me is not cumming, baby.” He chuckled, tugging

down my blouse over my ruined bra and releasing the cuffs.

 

He rubbed the marks on my wrists, then kissed them tenderly. ‘Beautiful,’ he

hummed.

 

The gag slipped free; he tucked the soaked fabric back into his pocket. Then he

walked me to the reception and flagged a cab.

 

“Room key?” he demanded.

 

“It’s in the back of the file, Daddy,” I said sweetly.

 

He chuckled, kissing my forehead. “My baby thinks of everything.”

 

Holding the cab door open, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips.

 

“No cumming before I get there, little one.” A devious grin spread across his face as

he shut the door.

 

The drive back to the hotel was torturous. My wet pussy ached with need, and my

breathing barely returned to normal.

[Rara84]

Brilliant read so far x

[CJ_SilverQueen]

Wow! That was amazing

[Ki****]

I love it

[De****]

Is there a part 3, 4, 5... i want more!