The constant click clack may as well be silence
the bed of lettuce to your everyday boredom
Tuesday, Wednesday, ...does it really matter?
this case...that case
computer screen...stone face
you listen closely...
the pattern sounds familiar
the heavy, confident strides that produce that sound
then...a faint...yet undeniable scent
ever so slight...yet detectable
begins to swirl about the tip of your nose
and just as it all adds up in your head
there Daddy appears filling the frame of your door
the smile doesnt wait for permission to explode
instead it instantly spreads evenly across your face
you would know that his smile is equally as wide...
except your field of vision seeks much lower aim
you've always loved the way his slacks drape
such a stickler for a tailored fit
such a...MAN...you swoon internally
but, more than how they fit, its what they hide you love the most
maybe its the way he commands you to take ownership
the way he says...its all yours...only...yours
maybe its the way it makes your hands feel small
or your mouth big, forced to open wide...as if Daddy was a dentist
maybe its because the only time you will answer gladly to the title of bitch
is when its buried inside...deep, wide...curved perfectly
all of the above
as u make your way upward...u notice quite the surprise
a small, yet lavishly wrapped box...velvet red bow
"for me?" you inquire
"absolutely baby....all yours"
you meticulously open your surprise as he prods about your schedule
Daddy locks the office door as he approaches
"how long until your next meeting?" Daddy says...sliding closer
"twenty seven minutes"
"good...that gives me twenty minutes to speak with my pussy"
you part the tissue, to reveal a beautiful pair of black lace boyshorts
Daddy leans in and whispers in that sexy baritone voice...
"you'll need new ones when im done"
....to be continued