Chapter Text
Jill sighed and rested her cheek on Brahms’ shoulder as he carried her into the kitchen.
“What should we have for lunch?” he asked with a thoughtful hum, perusing the fridge. There were some leftovers from the night before, and the pantry was full of options. “Soup and sandwich? That’s easy enough.”
She nodded, brow furrowed with amused curiosity when he sat her on the counter and began to collect all the ingredients. “You don’t want me to cook, Daddy?”
Brahms shook his head with a bare smile. “No, baby. This is easy enough that I can do it. You can be in charge of dinner and I’ll be your helper. Sounds like a plan?”
“Mhm.” Jill scratched underneath her chin, feeling at a loss for what to do. It was so rare that she was the one being taken care of. “Can I help?”
He dropped the ingredients next to her and smiled, cupping her cheeks and planting a warm kiss on her lips. “Just be a good girl and keep Daddy company. That’s what you can do.”
She scrunched her nose and blew a gust of air, letting her legs dangle idly. “... okay then.”
Brahms hummed a quiet tune to himself, roughly chopping some tomatoes, garlic and onion. He drizzled olive oil over them and stuck them in the oven for a bit. “What sandwich do you want with roasted tomato soup?”
“Grilled cheese, please.”
“And what shall we do after lunch?” he asked, taking out the bread they’d made the other day.
Jill paused for a moment, then her face lit up. “Decorate the Christmas tree? I forgot to tell you: Malcolm helped me get it set up in the sitting room.”
He looked up, his expression a confused muddle before he picked her up and headed that way. “Show me.” Weaving down this hallway and that, he stopped shy of the open room, eyes transfixed on the beautiful full fir tree.
She watched him cautiously, his eyes slightly glossed as he let out a shaky sigh. “... is everything okay?”
He gave her a squeeze, jaw clenched as if to prevent trembling, and continued to stare at the tree.
She wondered what he thought of when he saw it. If he remembered Christmases when he was very young. What were his Christmases like afterwards? Was he forced to simply stare through the walls at a life he would never be allowed to live? With presents for a boy he no longer was? And as much as she wanted to know what prompted his exile in the first place, her focus was always fixed on what he’d experienced since.
How could any parent do that to their child? How deeply did his trauma run? As much as it hurt to think it, she wouldn’t be surprised if a therapist told her that he would always suffer from PTSD or CPTSD to some degree. Maybe he could manage. Maybe one day he could handle being adult more than her needy boy. But something told her he’d always need that caregiving to some degree. He’d always need that connection.
Brahms eventually let out a shaky sigh and gave her a small, wavering smile. “Sorry, sweetheart. Struggling to stay big. I can’t remember the last time I decorated a Christmas tree.”
She felt her heart pulse sharply and she hugged him tight. “It’s okay if you need to be little. I hoped this would be fun, not painful.”
Brahms groaned and sat down for a moment, keeping her tucked close. “It’s both. It hurts. It hurts because this was all I wanted. But also, I get to share this moment with you. That’s what I’ll remember. Replacing bad with good,” he murmured, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Give Daddy a kiss and I’ll be okay. No going little.”
Jill flushed in spite of herself and nodded, scratching the back of his scalp as she leaned in to kiss him.
He met her lips gently at first, taking his time to enjoy the feel of her before deepening the kiss. “Mm. Daddy’s favorite distraction, but we better get back to lunch.” He smirked and patted her bum before picking her up and carrying her back to the kitchen.
It would still take getting used to, calling him Daddy. The stark difference in how he behaved, carried himself versus when he was her needy boy. She couldn’t say she really understood why there was such a tangible split. If both sides were completely him, or if the ‘real’ him was somewhere in the middle as he continued to explore and grow and become more himself.
He seated her on top of the counter again and turned his attention to the oven, checking if it needed more time. “You bought decorations already, didn’t you?”
“Mhm. Figured you could decide in the moment what kind of theme you wanted. I’ve got ornaments of all colors and shapes. Different garlands. Tinsel. Multi-colored lights or just plain white. I might’ve gone a bit overboard. Bought stuff to decorate the rest of the house with. My mom loves to decorate the house at this time. Thought we could make more happy memories for you.”
The way Brahms looked at her while she said that had her by the throat. It was a look that was intense, hungry but brimming over with warmth and affection. “You are the sweetest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met,” he said breathlessly, nuzzling her neck and littering it with kisses as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Daddy, be fair. You haven’t actually met that many people,” she replied, her words muffled against his soft cardigan.
He chuckled at that and pinched her bum. “It would be true anyway. I’m so glad you showed up when you did.”
“Me too.” Her smile became lopsided and she accidentally let out a giggle when his hands slipped under her shirt and tickled her ribs.
His fingers trailed around to the front, teasing the round undercurve of her breasts. “How’re you feeling, baby? Heavy?”
Jill shivered at the touch, feeling herself immediately start to let down when he rumbled in her ear. “Not too heavy yet.”
“Daddy’s favorite toys. They know me so well,” he murmured in her ear, slowly dragging her tank top down until her breasts popped out.
“Well it’s what you wanted,” she said with a sheepish laugh, swallowing a mewl when he tugged and teased her nipples.
Brahms hummed, gently squeezing and kneading her breasts, eyes glazed with lust the more milk dripped down her breasts. “Damned right it is.” He groaned and latched onto her right breast without a thought, eliciting a silent shiver from Jill.
She braced herself with her hands, head lolling back as the sensations washed over her. What was it that made this so pleasurable? So soul-achingly intimate? Maybe it was the way he nuzzled against her breast. Or how he always began eager and forceful, and inevitably slowed down as he relaxed and became sleepy. Maybe it was in how much he loved the taste of her. How he could never quite get enough. Regardless, she had to admit that she was just as attached and invested in nursing as he was.
She thought his fixation on her breasts was one thing. Even with the dry nursing, she thought their connection couldn’t possibly become stranger or more intimate. Then she started producing milk, and everything changed. Whatever equilibrium or fantasy or vision Brahms had, this was at the core. Even when he wasn’t ‘little Brahms’. Even when he was ‘Daddy’.
Brahms let out a groan, forcing himself to stop and leaned over her with a smile as he licked his lower lip. “Nothing tastes better than you.”
Jill flushed, feeling an odd faint squirming in her stomach at his raspy praise. “M’glad,” she replied softly, hands lightly clasping his neck when he leaned in for a slow, deep kiss.
Again, he reluctantly pulled away so he could take the roasting tray out of the oven and put all the contents into a blender. He maintained his focus effortlessly as he put the soup together, seasoning carefully and then leaving it on low to simmer. Then he scooped her up in his arms, sat down at the kitchen table with her straddling his lap, and latched onto her left breast.
He let out muffled groans at semi-regular intervals while his hands slipped under her tank top and stroked her back rhythmically. When she was half-empty he pulled back with a gasp and kissed her hungrily before propping her onto the table. “I can never get enough.” He grinned and booped the tip of her nose before grabbing a pan and prepping grilled cheese sandwiches for both of them.
She couldn’t help but be impressed with his cooking skills. Granted he’d seen her make it enough times, and helped her make most meals the last few months. Still, to see him manage on his own, she was so proud of him. He went from being unable to do most things, almost completely ignorant and unaware of the outside world, to the man she was allowed to briefly glimpse.
He knew how to cook. Was now fairly knowledgeable about history, basic biology, chemistry and astronomy. He enjoyed creative outlets like sculpting clay, drawing and painting. He expanded his library of music to include more genres besides classical. He was helpful with chores and rarely complained. The more he learned and the more he could do, the more confident he became.
Jill knew that she was the main influence, and without her he probably would never have gained all those skills. It melted her, realizing that. Who could have imagined how far they’d both come, considering where they started. Maybe she could broach a sensitive subject with him sooner than she thought.
“Daddy, can I ask you a question?” she finally asked after watching him hesitantly for several seconds.
“Mhm. Is everything okay?” He didn’t bother to turn around, too busy watching the grilled cheese before flipping them.
She chewed her lower lip and inhaled shakily. “Yes. More than okay, actually. It seems like you’ve been so much happier lately.”
Brahms smiled to himself and nodded, looking at the slowly bubbling soup and gave it a quick stir. “That’s true, baby, I have been.”
“Right. Well, we’ve never talked about it before, but I thought-- What do you think about trying therapy in the future? Maybe something where someone could visit us once a week.” Jill tilted her head, trying to get a look at his face, but it was obscured from sight. She noticed his back stiffen though, and it took a couple beats before he removed the sandwiches and put them on their own plates.
“... I don’t know, princess. I don’t belong out there. It was my fault. My parents said I was broken. They left me here. What if you hadn’t stayed? What would have happened to me? They didn’t care. As long as no one knew.” He sighed and grabbed bowls, spooning generous portions of soup for both of them.
She nodded glumly and pushed her hair off her shoulders. “I know. It’s just-- we’ve come so far, you’ve come so far. I’ve been thinking about contacting your parents’ solicitors and seeing if they had any clauses about you being found alive.”
Brahms walked over and placed a plate in front of each of them, brow furrowed with troubled pensiveness. “They were content to keep me ‘dead’ all this time, why would they--”
“-- I don’t know, it was just a feeling. Something in the letter your mother wrote to me made me think-- maybe she knew what a big mistake they’d made. Maybe she wanted to make it right, but didn’t have the strength to do it herself.” She shrugged and took a seat next to him, flushing when he pulled her tank top up to cover her breasts once more.
“How could they possibly make things right now?” he asked bitterly, his gaze distant as he stared through his bowl of soup.
Jill rubbed his back instinctively, feeling her own chest constrict at his pained silence. She could feel his struggle to stay ‘big’, but allowed him the space to decide what he needed. “By acknowledging you? By admitting their mistakes? By allowing you to inherit everything, not me.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do. How to pay bills or manage anything like that, and frankly I’d rather not. Besides, you do all the work. I help, but you know how to do everything. It should still be you.” After several tense seconds, he sat up and looked at her with a weak smile. Then he leaned over and kissed her temple reassuringly. “Not retreating yet, princess. I’m managing, don’t worry.”
She nodded, lips pushed to the side uncertainly. “It’s just-- I want you to be part of the world again, when you’re ready. If you want to. We could go to parks, go out for walks. I could take you to the zoo. We could travel. I want you to have the fullest and best life you can. So much was taken from you for so long. I just want you to have the opportunities that others do. If you don’t want to, I understand. It’s just--“”
Brahms dipped the corner of his sandwich into the soup, listening to her as he took a quiet bite. When she was finished he pulled her in a bit closer and nuzzled her neck. “You are the sweetest, most thoughtful girl. It sounds wonderful, but I don’t think Daddy’s ready for that. Not for places that are packed with people and so much noise. Staring at my face. I’ve only just become okay with Malcolm seeing me. But an entire building’s worth? Too much for me. At least right now.”
“I know. I didn’t expect anything to happen immediately, not even soon. It’s just-- it would be nice to visit my family. Or have them visit us, you know? We’ve always been close. And while I don’t ever want to leave you, I still hope to see them again regularly some day.”
He sighed guilty, staring at the soup before having a couple spoonfuls. “... suppose I’ve dominated your time, haven’t I?”
“No no no, don’t feel bad. You needed it and I’ve been happy to give it. I love spending time with you, big or small, it doesn’t matter. But eventually, I’d like you to be a bigger part of my life. I’d like for you to have a life, whatever you want that to look like. I just don’t want you to have to hide anymore,” she explained hastily, quickly swallowing her food before squeezing his upper arm.
He nodded, eating quietly as he ruminated over the conversation. Then he eventually turned to her with a warm and curious smile. “... I love you. I don’t know how I’d be if you didn’t show up. I was so lost for so long. But you changed everything. You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”
She couldn’t stop her eyes from glossing over, and when he opened his arms she straddled his lap and hid her face in his neck. “I love you too. I’m glad I helped. I was so scared that first night when you showed up.”
“So was I,” he quipped with a chuckle, wrapping her arms around her tight. “No one had seen me in twenty years. I wondered sometimes if I was even real, I felt like a ghost. I must’ve looked like a horrid mess.”
“You smelled pretty foul,” she admitted sheepishly, slipping her hands past his cardigan so she could hold onto his waist. “Not anymore though. Not since that first night.”
Brahms rocked her gently from side to side, propping his chin on her shoulder. “Strange, isn’t it? It feels like so long ago. A lifetime ago. Now it feels like you’ve always been here. I don’t know what I’d do without you now.”
“You’ll never have to wonder. I’ll always be here,” she mumbled into his cardigan, wriggling closer as if there was any space left between them.
“Makes me happy to hear that,” he murmured in her ear, rubbing her back briskly a few times before tapping her bum. “Okay, turn around and finish your lunch. Then we can decorate the tree.” He pulled her plate closer to him and kissed her hair, waiting for her to continue eating.
The rest of the afternoon was sweet and cozy. Jill lit the fireplace and put on some Christmas carols while they decorated the tree. She suggested Christmas movies that he might enjoy, treats they could bake together and the fun they could have if it started snowing.
Brahms was content to listen to her talk with a small, secret smile on his face that she occasionally caught in the corner of her eye. They decided on a colorful scheme for the tree, using multi-colored lights and ornaments. Most of the decoration process was done in warm silence, catching one another with brief caresses and touches as they crossed paths.
By the time they were finished, the sun was setting and the fireplace gave off a warm glow and both their tummies started to gurgle. “Why don’t we save some time for dinner and reheat something? There’s still some beef and barley soup in the freezer, isn’t there?” Brahms asked, thoughtlessly slipping a hand under her shirt and giving a swollen breast a squeeze. “Hm, just as Daddy was getting thirsty. What perfect timing.”
Jill flushed faintly when Brahms turned to her with a cheeky wink and scooped her up in his arms and headed for the kitchen. She’d gotten so used to him calling her Mommy that it barely registered at all. Yet she squirmed every time he referred to himself as Daddy. Maybe because it’d never been her thing. Maybe because it implied a kind of authority or dominance that she never expected him to be interested in. And as much fulfillment as she felt being Brahms’ mommy, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss having someone who could take charge in the bedroom.
He plopped her onto the kitchen table, gliding to and fro as he grabbed the frozen soup and put it on the stove to reheat. There was a quiet about him that tickled the back of her neck. A sense of content she didn’t remember witnessing before. “It’s been a nice, relaxing day, hm?” he asked, finally turning to her with a small smile. He discreetly put her on her back, nibbling her neck with a rumbling hum.
“Y-yes Daddy,” she replied, a little more breathless than she meant to sound. But when he slowly pulled her tank top down with a finger, eyes gleaming greedily as one breast after another popped out, goose pimples spread all over her body in one chilly wave.
Daddy Brahms wasn’t impatient like his needier, more youthful self. No, he was set on savoring the moment, lips pressed to her skin one inch at a time. His tongue swirled around her nipple, lips curling at the way she shuddered against the table. It took a couple turns before she properly let down, but he didn’t latch onto her right away. Instead he trailed slow, sensuous kisses to her other breast and did the same.
She shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Little Brahms would’ve had her at least twice by now. And given how wholesome their day had been so far, it was only a matter of time before he dragged her into something sinful. Not that she was complaining, mind you.
He pinned her arms to the table to prevent her from squirming too much, and continued to litter kisses along her chest. And once he had both breasts actively leaking, he swiped his tongue on the underside of each. “Wouldn’t want to waste a drop, now would we?” he purred, the vibrations sending fluttering pulses between her legs.
She barely had time to register what he said when his teeth grazed and tugged at her nipples lightly. “Jesus, Daddy--” she gasped, back arching in spite of herself.
There was something in the way Brahms rumbled. The way he nipped at her taut, aching flesh. The way his fingers slid across her skin greedily, wanting to feel every inch that his mouth couldn’t taste. Eventually he latched onto her right breast while his hands slid up her skirt
Jill reached around the table desperately, but there was nothing to hold onto except for Brahms. She wrapped her legs around his torso and threaded her fingers into his dark curls, her breath becoming quick and shallow.
Things had been steadily changing between them since Brahms first made his existence known, but she wasn’t sure what to make of this ‘Daddy’ persona. Yes, Brahms was slowly but steadily evolving from the whiny, needy, demanding little boy she’d come to know. She’d become used to hearing his raspy, adult voice these days. They still used the same pet names for one another, but it was different.
For the first time in his life, Brahms didn’t need to be anything other than himself to receive attention or affection. He wasn’t forced to be the perfect, imaginary, angelic child that he’d never been. He wasn’t the monster that his parents were determined to hide from the rest of the world. But as much as he enjoyed making up for lost time and affection, there was another aspect of his personality that he was becoming confident enough to show.
The man he was becoming. The man that Jill was unintentionally shaping him into. She had to admit there was a certain amount of relief at realizing that. There was always going to be a certain amount of self-consciousness when it came to Brahms and nursing and him calling her mommy and all that. Even if no one else was around to see or hear it, there was a part of her that shuddered uncomfortably.
She hadn’t noticed when he switched breasts, or when he moved her legs so they loosely hooked over his shoulders. He was the same person, but in this moment even his touch felt different. It was like someone else’s hands were on her. It was as thrilling as it was disorienting. Her toes curled again when the faint fluttery pulses in her core slowed down to demanding throbs. She gasped, heels digging into his shoulder blades as she fought a whine.
She’d never had to beg before. Hell, she’d never had to say anything. Brahms had always been the impatient one between the two of them. She could barely get a word in edgewise before he pushed inside her with a needy groan. By the time she might protest, he was already thrusting at a hungry pace, and her own body began to clench with need.
Jill bit her lip so hard she worried it might bleed, and eventually little whimpers and moans escaped her lips when his hands swept up and down her inner thighs. Always soooo close to her dripping entrance, but never close enough. Just the faintest, most torturous breeze. “Fuck. Daddy, please-- I need you.”
Her stomach churned and flopped at hearing her own whiny words, cheeks suddenly burning with embarrassment. No one had ever pulled that out of her before. No one had managed to rile her up so much that she was desperate to be filled. And she was.
But Daddy wasn’t done. Nowhere close. And her crooning plea seemed to tickle him.
Brahms chuckled as he swallowed the last drop of her milk, and nuzzled her bosom affectionately. “Oh no, what’s wrong princess? What do you need?” The devilish twinkle in his eye said he already knew, but he wanted to hear it again. And just to make sure she didn’t chicken out, his fingers grazed along her lips, sending little electric jolts through her.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, sure that she was redder than a tomato. “I-- stop, you’re being mean,” she whined, inwardly wincing at how needy she sounded. She sucked in a sharp breath when a thumb found her clit, and began moving in slow, small circles. She could feel the sweat start to form on the back of her neck as she debated on giving in or rebelling against his smug teasing.
“Am I? Bad Daddy. Should only be nice to my baby, right?” he quipped, dropping a quick kiss on her lips before pushing her skirt up to her waist. His thumb continued to idly stroke her while the barest smile hung from his lips as she mewled and writhed. “That reminds me. I’ve been thinking--”
Jill regretted ever thinking for one second that she missed having a man take charge. This was awful. This was wonderful. She never thought that Brahms could be capable-- but she really, really wanted her needy boy. She would’ve been on her way to her third or fourth orgasm by now. Not wheedling and whining for nothing. “Wh- what Daddy? What’ve you been thinking?” Her words came out in an awkward staccato, her throat dry as beads of sweat dotted her scalp.
He didn’t answer immediately, though she heard him hook a foot around a chair and drag it closer to him. Her legs lowered with him as he took a seat, and she bit her lip when he suddenly yanked her towards the edge of the kitchen table. He didn’t stop the motion of his thumb, but after a few seconds, she felt his breath on her bare skin and--
--oh.
That’s what he was thinking.
It never occurred to her to tell him about oral sex. Now that she was there with him, shuddering as his tongue slid between her lips, she wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, he’d always been a careful and considerate lover. He paid close attention to her noises, her expressions, her reactions to everything he did. And it seemed he’d become confident enough in his skills that he was ready to take a hands-on approach to something new and unexplored.
She jolted when he silently replaced his thumb with his tongue, and drew a hand over her eyes. “Oh god,” she whispered. Or did she gasp? Had she forgotten to breathe?
There was nothing for it when she felt his tongue press against her clit. Not so hard that she’d feel an electric jolt of overstimulation, nor so light that she’d end up feeling squirmy and goose pimply. He used just enough that he easily began to trace his tongue around the sensitive nubbin. He fell silent as he continued to experiment; singularly focused on the task at hand. Feel her. Taste her. Learn what she liked. Learn what she loved. Figure out how to make her come as many times as possible.
Brahms always took it as a point of pride that she came as much as she did. And the one time she tried to explain delicately that she enjoyed intimacy just as much when not completely spent and fucked out, he gave her a scandalized look. She did so much for him. She’d been so patient and given up so much. He didn’t have much to give, but this-- this he was good at. This he could do. It was the only way he had to return the favor. And her noises, her cries of pleasure were the only music he ever needed to hear.
Jill dug her nails into the table, her breath hitching and becoming quicker when his tongue plunged into her dripping slit. A shocked moan escaped her lips and her hips shuddered when he dug his fingers into her thighs and began tongue-fucking her slowly. He traced every inch of her that he could, his face buried between her legs so tightly she wasn’t sure if he could breathe.
Not that he cared. Apparently he had been thinking about this for quite a while and was determined to make the most of this opportunity. He gently made biscuits into her thighs, fingers gripping her flesh possessively as he kneaded it. He rumbled with approval at the taste of her, and when her gasping moans grew louder he decided to push her over the edge. He moved back up to her clit, taking his time to alternate circling, rubbing and kissing it. Then without notice, he pushed three fingers into her. The perfect amount of depth and stretch to send her over the edge.
Why the hell hadn’t she told him about this sooner? How long had he been curious? Why wouldn’t he ask her? It’s not like she wouldn’t have said yes. She trusted him with her body, even if their first time was awkward and fumbling while talking things through. But Jesus Christ, he was good.
A long, strained groan caught in her throat as rapid pulses of pleasure spread from her core to the rest of her body. “Fuck fuck fuck Daddy,” she whimpered, hips shivering and jerking as his fingers moved relentlessly inside her. Maybe it was because it was the first time he ate her out. Maybe it was the shift in his demeanor. Maybe it was the eager hunger drenching every movement, every touch.
No one had ever made her feel so beautiful, so sexy, so desirable as Brahms did. Didn’t matter if he was her boy or played Daddy. Her insecurities didn’t stand a chance when he paused to stare up at her. Lips pausing to kiss her soft mound and eyes twinkling with the most sinful kind of mischief as his tongue idly drew her orgasm out even longer. And only when she finally whimpered and tried to squirm away did he stop.
“You. Are. Delicious,” he murmured against her skin, taking another long swipe against her lips to prove it. “I should’ve done this sooner.”
Jill hummed and tried to clear her dry throat, legs finally relaxing around his head. “Mmm, if you like. Your tongue is magic,” she quipped wryly, yelping when he began teasing the puffy, overstimulated bundle of nerves. “Daddy!”
Brahms' breath was hot and humid against her skin, and all he did in reply was curl his fingers inside her.
“Oh my god, not fair,” she crooned, fingers gathering the table cloth as she dragged them towards her. “What about dinner?”
He smirked and leaned back in his chair, fingers idly stroking inside her as he attempted to check the soup. And when that didn’t give a good vantage point, he stood up and looked over his shoulder. “Suppose it could use a stir, but it’s still defrosting. It was a big batch.”
Then he returned his focus to Jill, taking a moment to admire her. “I don’t think my girl has come nearly enough to stop now, do you?”
Jill waved a hand in defeat and her eyes zeroed in on his hand when it began to unfasten his pants. Any thoughts of protesting dribbled out her ear the moment his cock bounced out proudly. Goddammit. She was as hooked on him as he was on her. “No Daddy,” she whispered, as if trying to hide just how desperate she was to be stuffed. As if writhing on his thick fingers wasn’t proof enough.
Brahms maintained eye contact with her as he raised her legs and pressed them against his chest. “Of course you haven’t. Can’t end the night without me filling you at least once,” he teased, kissing her inner calf before discreetly positioning himself. His gaze became more animalistic as he sank into her, one inch at a time.
She couldn’t stop the loud moans. The mewls. The way her core began clenching needily around him. The pleasure grew thick as it seeped into her limbs, making them feel like jello. There was nothing to do but take it as he began moving in long, deep strokes.
It was the complete opposite of little Brahms, who was always a bit too eager and needy. He would barely pull out, while pounding into her like he could never quite be deep enough. He couldn’t get close enough to her. Chasing something he could never quite reach.
Daddy Brahms, on the other hand, wanted to stretch the moment out as long as he could. He was only interested in chasing her pleasure for the moment. His hands stroked her legs idly. When she gasped at being full to the brim, he dropped her legs, letting them wrap around him as he bent down to nuzzle her neck. “Isn’t everything better when Daddy’s inside you?”
Jill’s eyes fluttered shut at the raspy words murmured in her ear, and she dug her heels into his back as she came again. Her hands pressed against his chest as he swallowed her wanton cries with a kiss. There was no escaping the carnal sensory overload, and every writhing motion she unconsciously made only ended up touching some new nerve that made it worse. Because all she could feel was how hard he was, and how impossibly deep he was.
He brushed some damp hair away from her face, trailing kisses down her neck before he scooped her up and sat on the nearest chair. He didn’t say anything, only held her close as he grinded their hips together.
She allowed her hips to passively match his rhythm, nails digging into the back of his neck as she tried to stave off another weak orgasm from building. She could only guess how ridiculous she looked. Hair mussed and half out of its bun. Breasts hanging out of her tank top alluringly. Skirt pushed up her waist unevenly as she idly rode Brahms’ cock.
“You know Daddy loves you, don’t you? More than anything, princess. More than anyone else ever. You’re the only one I want.” The words were so warm. So quiet. So earnest. It pierced something deep inside her and she felt her eyes mist.
She wrapped her arms around him and hid her face in his neck. “Love you too, you know I do,” she mumbled, licking her lower lip at the salty taste of his skin.
He slid his hips forward on the chair while leaning back further. “You can come once more, can’t you love?” he asked, smiling against her lips as he lifted her hips and began pounding inside her, hard and slow.
Jill could only answer with a strangled cry. Fuck. Just when she thought he was done and ready to finish. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Daddy. It’s all-- it’s too much,” she protested weakly, whimpering and whining when his pace picked up.
“You can do it, baby. Love feeling you come with me. Come on, be a good girl.” His words were interrupted by his own gasping groans and she could tell by the force of his thrusts that he was rapidly getting closer. Pushing her past her limits was one of his hot buttons. Something in knowing he left her totally fucked out got him off like little else.
She dug her nails into his skin and shut her eyes tight. Trying to let go and allow the pleasure to build, while fighting the jelly-like afterglow that warned her she was spent.
But Brahms was nothing if not persistent, and switched from hard and rough to torturously slow and teasing to warm and demanding. Every few thrusts was something new. She didn’t know what to expect. Which was exactly what her body needed. Before she knew it, pleasure pulsed through her entire body like a hot, weighted blanket. It wasn’t intense and localized like her first orgasm. Now it was everything. From the roots of her hair to the tingling tips of her toes.
It wasn’t long before both of them were desperately panting for breath, a sheen of sweat giving their bodies a golden glow under the setting sun. There was something about him. She couldn’t figure out what it was. It didn’t matter what role he played. It didn’t matter where or when. Every time they were intimate she felt that much closer to him. And yet it was never enough for him. He always wanted that sliver more.
Her abandoned cries and curses began to echo in the kitchen, and Brahms dug his fingers into her thighs as he indulged himself with a rough and hungry pace. She was oblivious to the vulgar, needy words that spilled past her lips in hip-shuddering moments. All that mattered was the way he felt inside her. How completely the pleasure enveloped her. How nothing in her world existed but those sensations, driving her over the edge.
How he managed to time it was a blessed mystery, but as soon as she bore her hips down on him, milking his cock instinctively, he came with her. He gripped the back of her neck and forced their hips together as tightly as possible while he filled her. “... fuck. That’s my girl. Keep coming. Don’t stop,” he gasped, words interrupted by throaty noises as he filled her over and over. One might’ve thought he hadn’t come for weeks with how long he came.
Not that she was complaining. There was something equally gratifying, knowing she affected him just as deeply as she did.
As they both came down from their sensual highs, Brahms rubbed her back slowly and leaned in for a kiss. They stayed like that for quite a while. Her hands clasped the side of his neck. His hands eventually rested on her bum. And one kiss bled into another and another. Sometimes deep. Sometimes soft. Sometimes playful. Sometimes hungry. It was like being on a see-saw. Each one taking what they wanted in turns.
It wasn’t until he’d fully softened that Brahms let out a disappointed sigh and smoothed her hair out of her face properly. “Mm. Time to stir the soup or it’s going to burn. If it hasn’t already.” He chuckled sheepishly, carefully disconnecting them and sitting her on the table again. Indifferent to the cum puddle she was about to leave on it.
Jill groaned and laughed, taking a moment to readjust her clothes and put her hair in a messy bun again. “If it has we can always warm up something else. We have a decent stash in the freezer.” Her legs were wobbly as a newborn foal’s when she hopped off the table and went to inspect the soup.
Brahms was already stirring it and gave her a shrug when she peered over his arm. “There was a little bit stuck to the bottom, but it still smells good. Think it’s alright.”
She nodded in agreement and headed for the cupboards to set the table.
“Just the one spot, princess. You’re staying in Daddy’s lap,” he called out with a wry smile, sneaking a side glance to watch her flush and squirm.
“... mhm,” was all she said, eyes widening in mortification when she saw the damp spot on the table. “Jesus, Daddy, you made a mess of me.”
He let out a long, smug sigh as he grabbed some stock from the fridge and thinned the soup a bit more. “I really did, didn’t I? I hope you’re not complaining or I might be compelled to do it again.”
Jill bit her lip and fought a smile, exhaling in defeat as she cleaned the spot and set the table for themselves. “Nearly ready?”
“Mhm, just needs your magic touch, I think,” he replied, bending down to sneak a kiss before letting her taste and reseason the soup. “Hungry?”
“Very.” She nodded, only adding a dash of salt before Brahms began to fill their bowls. “You know, I didn’t know you were interested in um, going down on me. Realized I never really told you about oral sex.”
Brahms hummed quietly to himself, filling two bowls generously and putting them both in front of the same chair. “I don’t know. A while, I suppose. And certainly worth the wait. I plan on doing that much, much more often, now that I’ve had a taste.”
She laughed when he pulled her into his lap, shifting their bowls so they could feed themselves more easily. “Well. If that’s the case, then I suppose I should complete the circle.”
“Hm?” he asked distractedly, an idle hand slipping under her shirt to test how full her breasts were.
“Let’s just say that I plan on returning the favor. Maybe later tonight or tomorrow morning. Can’t believe I’ve let you go this long without one. Mean of me.” She took a spoonful of soup and hummed, idly swinging her legs.
Brahms looked at her with a curious frown before shrugging it off. “Well whatever it is, I look forward to it and I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
“Oh Daddy, you have nooo idea.” She grinned at him before taking another bite, then leaned back against him. Turnabout was fair play after all, and she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. It was Brahms’ turn to be spun around and inside out.
His first blowjob. Though she already knew it wouldn’t be his last. She was gonna pull out all the stops.
She’d have his knees buckling by the time she was done with him.
She couldn’t wait.