Bend Me, Daddy

Beg me to take you," he murmured. His voice was rough, reverberating through my bones. "Beg me to bend you over that couch and fuck you."

The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Please."

He paused.

Then, to my everlasting dismay, he pulled back, removing his hand from my pants and leaving a wet, cold trail behind. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, turning my knees to pudding.

"No," he said.

It took a second to register. "What?" I cried. "Why? You asked me to... why?"

And he laughed. He laughed at me.