Chapter 147 Pretty Red Ass Marked For Daddy

• I couldn’t stop myself. All week I’d been sending him pictures—close-ups of my tits squeezed together in the mirror, my fingers spreading my pussy lips so he could see how wet I was just thinking about him, one shot of me on my knees in the bathroom at home with my tongue out like I was waiting for his cock. Each time I hit send my heart raced, knowing he was probably sitting in his living room or his truck looking at them, getting hard, maybe even stroking himself while he stared at my body. I wanted him obsessed. I wanted him angry. I wanted him to punish me so hard I couldn’t sit tomorrow.
• Last night at family dinner sealed it. Dad invited him over like always—steaks on the grill, beer in the cooler, Mom’s potato salad everyone pretends to love. I wore a short denim skirt and a cropped tank top that barely covered anything, no bra so my nipples poked through every time the AC kicked on. I sat across from him at the table, bare foot sliding under the tablecloth until my toes found the bulge in his jeans.
• I pressed. Slow circles at first, then firmer, feeling him thicken under my sole. He didn’t flinch—just locked eyes with me across the table while Dad talked about some work bullshit and Mom asked about his weekend plans. I rubbed harder, watching his jaw clench, his knuckles whiten around his beer bottle. When Dad got up to flip the steaks, I dragged my foot up and down his length one last time, slow and deliberate, then pulled away with an innocent smile.