Dec. 28th, 2012 07:41 pm
tehdirtiestsock: (dog)
[personal profile] tehdirtiestsock
written for a prompt here requesting an old man fucking a young girl.

this is always-a-girl!Dean / grandpa!Samuel Winchester. girl!Dean is 12 and he's been perving on her for a year, so, you know. Basically, Mary chose not to save John Winchester, but she was already pregnant when the demon killed him - so, Mary and Dee and Mary's parents are/were still alive, and baby Sam was never conceived. I also had vague ideas about this actually being the YED, trying to knock girl!Dean up with Sam for the prophecy to be fulfilled, but I never actually spun it out so maybe this is just a pervy grandpa - up to you.

either way, he's not a nice dude, but he's manipulative so Deanna ends up thinking she kind-of-sort-of consents. but she doesn't, at all.

now that I've spoiled all the

"Don't worry about us, Mary," Grandpa Samuel says. His hand is on Deanna's shoulder, and it's already making her nervous. "We'll be just fine, right, Dee?"

The truth is, Deanna hates being left alone with Grandpa Samuel, but she knows why Mom has to do it. Dee's dad was killed by a demon before she was even born, and Mom has to find it and kill it.

"Yeah." Her heart's in her throat. Mom gives her a kiss goodbye; Dee doesn't cling like she wants to. Mom is all she has left. It's been the two of them, all Dee's life. And her grandparents, when Gramma Dee was alive. Now it's...different. "Mom, be careful."

Mom's eyes are as warm as they ever are, but they're still hard. She's already on the hunt. "I will. Be good for your grandfather."

Deanna nods, and watches the Impala pull away. She holds still as Grandpa strokes her neck. "C'mon. Time to go inside."

She goes.


When Deanna was a little girl, she loved Grandpa Samuel. He taught her everything she knows about guns and hunting things, so she could help out her mom – Mom thinks it's too dangerous to have her hunting Yellow Eyes, or even lower demons, but Deanna's seen her share of ghosts and werewolves and all that.

It wasn't until after Gramma Dee died that Grandpa started looking at her differently. She was eleven. For a long time, it was just looking, and Deanna couldn't say why it was different, exactly. It just was. It felt wrong. And then a couple months ago, the touching started.

It was really nothing new. She'd always been Grandpa's girl. She'd always spent time in his lap, he'd always kissed her, and hugged her, and rubbed her shoulders – all that. But after Gramma died, she had stopped. It suddenly felt wrong. His eyes felt cloying enough, and greedy. She didn't want his hands on her too.

Only Grandpa had acted hurt, and her mom had noticed not long after, and reminded her Grandpa was the only family left. Deanna wasn't sure how to tell her it made her skin crawl. So she'd pushed aside the feeling to make both of them happy.

It's never that weird when Mom is around. There's always something wrong-feeling when she sits in Grandpa's lap now, but it's's worse when she's gone. At first, that just meant it felt more uncomfortable in a way she couldn't name, but then he started doing stuff Dee knows he really shouldn't. He touches her chest a lot, and sometimes her ass, and a few times he's brushed between her legs like it's an accident but she knows that it isn't.

"Don't worry about your mom, kiddo – she knows what she's doing."

Dee looks up from her plate, where she's been pushing vegetables around and nods. He's been normal so far, but he usually is til after dinner.

"Alright, if you're done, let's go watch some tv."

Deanna's stomach drops. "I'll clear the table."

He stands up and kisses the top of her head. She works not to shrink away. "Good girl. Join me when you're done."

She takes as long cleaning up and doing dishes as she dares, and then she joins him in the family room. She knows it won't work, but she tries to take a seat on the couch.

"Dee-Dee, it's been so long since I've seen you. Come sit with me." He pats his knee. The recliner he always uses is big and sturdy, but at twelve, she's grown enough that she has to be careful when she settles in.

Her heart is pounding, but she knows nothing will happen yet, so she tries to relax. She reminds herself it's not all bad, he never hurts her – she thinks he's lonely, and she knows she looks like Gramma Dee. They watch the news, and Grandpa Samuel adds his commentary on everything from the idiots in Washington to which incidents are suspicious and probably indicate a hunt. She used to love this game; it's how she learned how to spot their kind of thing in the news.

His hand is on her butt, but it's just like he's holding her in place, the way he's always done. The news bleeds into primetime tv, and nothing happens. She lets herself pretend nothing will, and snuggles against him like she used to as a young girl. His smell is familiar and comforting. She tucks her face against his throat, and he starts to stroke her flank.

"What's wrong, baby-girl? You've been so unhappy lately."

Deanna's throat closes up. He sounds so much like the man who used to fix her problems, not cause them. Maybe this is all a mistake somehow. Or a misunderstanding. Maybe he doesn't know she doesn't like it. She's never told him. She's scared to say anything, though. What happens to her and her mom without his help? What happens to her family?

He turns and kisses her forehead, stroking her hair back from her face, and she wants to cry. "You used to tell me everything, honey. Tell Grandpa what's wrong, and he'll make it all better."

Deanna hesitates, but he's looking at her so patiently, and she knows he'll wait as long as he needs to. So, very quietly, she says, "It feels funny when you touch me. I'm not sure that I like it."

He doesn't get mad. "Okay. 'Funny' how?"

She's getting nervous just thinking about it. "It' makes me nervous and...guilty and. I don't know, just weird."

Grandpa Samuel cups her face, thumb sweeping lightly over her cheek. Her stomach dances. "How come?"

Her heart is beating so hard, she can only whisper. "You're not supposed to – you're not supposed to, they said at school."

"Okay," he says simply, but he sounds so sad. He nudges her, encouraging her to get off his lap. "I'm sorry I made you feel bad."

Dee resists, not getting up. "Why did you do it?"

He reaches out to touch her face, but pulls his hand away. He's no longer touching her. "You just look so much like her," he says quietly. "And you act so much like her too. But I'd never want to hurt you – I won't touch you any more. You should go sit on the couch."

Deanna's eyes tear up at how sad he looks, and at the thought of never getting hugged again. Mom can be so distant. "Maybe never hurt me, I promise. I don't know why I'm freaking out about it." Her stomach hurts. "It's not like we're other people, right? We do lots of stuff we're not really supposed to."

Grandpa smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "True. But the important thing is you don't like it."

"It's not that I don't like it. I think maybe I wasn't sure how to feel about it? But now that we've talked about it, it could be okay. Maybe that's all I needed." She's not sure if that's true, but it makes him put his arms around her and pull her close, so it's good. She clings to him. "I love you, Grandpa."

"I love you too, Dee. You're my good girl."

It's praise that never fails to make her heart swell up in her chest, and they both fall quiet. The television's on, but Deanna knows she isn't watching. She doesn't think Grandpa Samuel is either. They're just hugging and breathing together, and Dee is relieved. She couldn't stand to ruin her relationship with him. She knows he'd never hurt her on purpose, that he'd do anything he could to prevent it. She should've trusted that, and she promises herself she won't doubt it again.

It feels like a long time before they start to relax, and Deanna is sleepy when the hand Grandpa's been stroking her side with ventures closer to her chest. Dee tenses up on reflex, and Grandpa Samuel murmurs, "Is this okay?"

She whispers "yes," even though she's not sure it is at all, and his palm settles shamelessly into place. She wonders if he can feel her heart pounding. She feels hot and cold and nervous, but it's...kind of nice. It doesn't hurt.

"Gramma Dee developed early too," he tells her. His thumb is stroking over her nipple, and it makes her tummy tight. "She had these perfect little breasts, just like yours. She was barely in middle school, but she had every man in town panting."

Deanna's breath is careful and shallow as he touches her; it's making her light-headed. She wonders if he means that men look at her like they used to look at Gramma, and it's a scary thought, somehow. She wonders if they want to do what Grandpa does.

"She was a good girl like you, though. I was the only one she let touch her."

"When she was my age?"

"Uh-huh. We had to sneak around, of course. Her daddy would've sent her off to the nunnery if he'd seen her going around with a high school kid. But she was the sweetest little thing I'd ever seen."

It's strange and somehow comforting to know Gramma did this when she was her age. Dee misses her fiercely. "Did you know right away you loved her?"

Grandpa huffs out a laugh. "To be honest with you, no. Let me tell you something about boys, Deanna – they're not sentimental. You need to be careful about who you give yourself to, because you're going to start attracting a lot of attention. You should be with someone who loves you."

He kisses her forehead and Deanna's heart aches. No one's ever going to love her. She lives out of hotels when she's not staying here, and she wears hand-me-downs and knows too much about guns and ghouls. But he loves her.

She turns her head, and presses their lips together, hardly able to breathe. He pulls away and checks to see that she's ok, and she must seem like she really is, because he helps her angle her head and starts kissing her again. Her insides are doing crazy things and she's not sure if they feel good or bad.

She parts her lips when he puts a little pressure on her jaw and his tongue slips in her mouth. He strokes his tongue against hers until she starts to stroke hers back, and he hums in her mouth.

"That's good, baby," he says. "You're doing really good."

Her skin feels too tight when they go back to kissing and his fingers stroke up under her shirt hem. They're just on her back at first, but she feels sensitive. She can feel each time-worn callous on his hand as he runs his palm over her lower back, fingers brushing along the waistband of her shorts.

He seems hungry, tongue aggressive in her mouth, and Deanna has to clench both fists in his shirt to keep herself from trying to get away. She feels trapped between his greedy mouth and hands on her back.

She pulls away from his mouth for air, and he latches onto her throat instead, sucking and using his teeth on her skin. This time, when his hand fits over her breast, there's only the thin cotton of her Salvation Army training bra to keep them from touching skin-to-skin. His hand is hot, and he massages it a little bit too hard. Deanna gasps.

"Can Grandpa take your shirt off, baby?" His voice is hoarse and too excited, but Deanna nods her head. He slips his hand out from under her shirt, and she relaxes, until both his hands land on her hips. "C'mon and straddle my lap so you don't crick your neck."

She does as he asks, and lifts her hands over her head when he pulls her shirt off. It's quickly tossed aside, and he pulls her plain white bra off too, without asking. She wants to cross her arms over her chest, but he guides her hands onto his shoulders.

He's staring at her chest, and she looks away, heat prickling her skin. He touches her breasts with both hands and Deanna bites her lip.

"So pretty. You get your complexion from our side of the family." He tweaks at both nipples with his thumbs and she sucks in a breath through her teeth. He looks up at her face. "You like that? Hey - " Her face is guided back down to make her look. "Does this feel good?"

He pinches the nipple that's still in his hand, and Deanna's breath catches – she nods, although she's too embarrassed to know if anything's good or bad. He takes the hand off her face and returns it to her other breast, playing with both nipples. Deanna watches, stomach flipping. His hands are wrinkled and pocked with liver spots, and it doesn't quite feel real, seeing them on her body this way.

And then he leans forward and guides one of her nipples into his mouth, and something happens. Dee starts to feel wet down there, like she only has a few times.

She makes a startled noise, and Grandpa Samuel looks up. "You okay, babydoll?" His breath ghosts over his spit and she shivers.

"It feels...." She doesn't know how to explain how it feels.

"Good or bad?" he asks. His eyes are on her, dark and reassuring. The way they've always been, like nothing bad can happen while he's here.

"I think...good. It made me...."

She doesn't have the breath to finish, but Grandpa Samuel's face gets sharper, somehow. "Do you feel it between your legs when I do this?" He takes the nipple back in his mouth and sucks, and she throbs down there. She closes her eyes and holds onto him tight, and when he sinks his teeth into her flesh, she gasps. He moans. "Are you wet?"

Deanna nods, hot and mortified and confused, and Grandpa Samuel kisses her and tweaks her wet nipple between his fingers, making her hips jerk.

"You're such a good girl, Dee-Dee. There's nothing wrong with liking what I'm doing. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, sir." He's never lied but she's not sure she believes him. She feels too mixed up.

"Watch," he orders, and she opens her eyes. He takes her other breast in his mouth and she watches him suck. His lips are wrapped around it and his eyes are closed like this feels as good for him as her, and she can't breathe when he swirls his tongue around really fast. He leans in aggressively and bears down with his teeth, hands on her back keeping her from moving away, and all she can see is the top of his bald head.

"Here, this'll make you feel good," he pants as he buries his face in her neck. He takes hold of her hips and grind her down in his lap, and the friction has her choking out a moan. She tries to move away but he holds her there, pressing them together rhythmically; she can feel the bulge in his pants pressed against her pubis. "Your little clit's swollen. That's how much you like getting felt up, and having your titties sucked on. Do you feel achy inside?"

Deanna nods, and starts actively rocking down. It feels good.

"Your cunt wants to get fucked." When she tenses up, he shushes her and holds her fast. "We don't have to do that. Ever played with your pussy?"

She jerks out a nod, embarrassed.


"When Mom is out hustling pool, or. Sometimes when she's asleep, but I have to be quiet."

"You put your hand in your panties and rub yourself with your clever little fingers?" Grandpa pops the button on Deanna's jean shorts and pulls the zipper down, and she's scared and excited in equal measure.

"Not in my panties, over."

"You touch yourself through the cotton?" Deanna nods, drawing in a ragged breath when he slides his fingers between her legs and presses bluntly through one layer of fabric. "Why through your panties?" Deanna shrugs. "You like the rough texture, maybe?"

He presses up with his middle finger, parting her lips and touching her clit through the cotton and it almost hurts. Deanna does this to herself. It makes her so wet. The surprise of having it done to surprises her into a strangled cry.

Grandpa presses his mouth against her ear and breathes hot there as he rubs her. She clings to him and rocks her hips.

"Do you ever put anything inside?" She can feel the words against her ear and down her spine. She shakes her head and he slides his fingers back, pressing two fingertips up; the pressure's painful and he eases away when she says so. He soothes her as his fingers snake in through the leg of her panties. "You're ok. You're a good girl."

She's embarrassed when his fingers slip and slide around her hole, but relieved when they don't push inside. He continues forward and starts playing with her, slick-slide-stroking her clit bare and spreading all her own mess around.

A sharp "oh," bursts out on her exhale, and then she can't stop repeating herself, panting it over and over and over while he touches her. It feels so much more intense than it does when she touches herself.

"That's my good girl," Grandpa says in her ear, and she gets wetter. Her hips jerk and shudder as the pleasure eats her up. "That's good...ride my hand. Good girl, Deanna, you're so beautiful, DeeDee, listen to you, such a perfect girl for me - "

Everything inside spikes past what is bearable and Dee's knuckles ache from how hard she's gripping onto his shirt. Her teeth are gritted as it just keeps getting more and it's way too much and she starts hyperventilating. It makes her feel disconnected from reality, and frustrated, she sobs out for help but what comes from her mouth is "Daddy!" and the dam bursts, all the tension washing quick and hard through her body and leaving her limp.

She collapses against him. He leaves his hand in her panties, cupped against her, pressing as she throbs against his palm.

He murmurs comforting things in her ear, and a while later, wraps both arms around her and holds her against his body tight. One of his palms is wet against her back, wet from her, and she buries her face in his shoulder, embarrassed. He strokes her hair and tells her how amazing she is.

"I don't know why I said that," she whispers.

"What?" His voice is quiet too.

"Why I called you...." It had just come out on its own. She should've said 'grandpa' but it felt so natural.

"It's not that surprising. You never knew your great loss in my opinion, but still." She tears up the way she always does when they talk about Dad. She knows Mom loved him more than anything, including her. Grandpa's never pretended to like him, though. It makes her feel sad and terrible when he says things like that. "I don't mind it, if that's what you want to call me when I touch you. Although I'd love for you to call me 'Sam.'"

Deanna's not sure what's wrong with her because she gave him her permission and he made her feel so good, but the assumption they'll do it again makes her sick. Suddenly she feels like crying.

"Let's go to bed," he says, and she's relieved. But he grabs her hand when she goes to climb the stairs and says, "Sleep down here with me tonight."

After she's brushed her teeth and washed her face, he strips off all her clothes, and tucks her in the bed. She can't close her eyes. She's naked and the bed smells like him, and she's nervous that something's going to happen.

When he comes out of the bathroom, he's not wearing any clothes. Dee looks away quickly until he's underneath the covers, and then she's scared to make eye contact with him. She doesn't have much of a choice when he pulls her across the bed and tucks her flush against his side.

"My turn," he jokes as he guides her hand down. He's soft and limp in her hand. He curls her fingers around it with his own. "Little blue pill takes a while to kick in, but we can help it along."

She lets him move her hand however he likes, but nothing happens, and after a minute, he lets her take her hand back and turns on his side to face her. The bedside lamp is still on, so she can see him clearly as he props himself up on his elbow.

"It's amazing, you look just like her. She looked exactly the same way on our wedding night. We'd fooled around in the bed of my pickup long enough, but she was still a virgin when we married. If I could've had her earlier, I would have, but we were worried about pregnancy. You couldn't just get birth control for a young girl then, the way you can now."

He took Viagra and he's talking about.... "I'm not on birth control."

His mouth twists into a smile. "Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm too old these days, we don't need it."

So they are. They're going to have sex tonight. Deanna's stomach churns, but she kisses back when Grandpa Samuel leans against her. He tastes like toothpaste now, and so does she, but now she's pressed against his bare body, and it makes her skin crawl. He's very hairy, and it's coarse. It scratches her skin. His penis is resting on the inside of her thigh, and it makes her want to squirm away.

"I love you, DeeDee."

"I love you too, Grandpa," she whispers, because she does, even though it makes her nauseous now when he nibbles at her neck. She wishes she were enjoying it, like she did for a while before.

"Sam," he corrects. "Or Daddy, if you like."

The knowing lilt of his voice makes her flinch, but she whispers, "Sam," obediently. Now that she's past the initial shock, it seems even worse to call him that What's wrong with her?

He leans over her, and runs his thumb over her bottom lip, looking so tender and loving that if she ignores his naked body, then she almost feels alright.

"You have such a pretty mouth." He pulls his thumb away and kisses it lightly. He pushes his thumb between her lips, watching it avidly. He licks his bottom lip as he slides it in and out. "Just like hers. Course, she never did like giving head, but that was okay back then. I imagine now it's expected."

Dee doesn't speak, because she doesn't know what to say. This is happening really fast. At dinner, she'd never been kissed, and now....

He throws the covers back and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her to get up. Once she's kneeling next to him, he points at the floor between his knees. "I'll show you what to do with that cocksucking mouth, sweetheart."

Red-faced, Deanna settles herself where he's pointing.

"Come closer. Kneel up, so you can reach."

He's flabby and pale and there's thick gray hair all over his body. He has a pot belly ever since he stopped hunting. He takes her hand and wraps it around his cock again. This time it's thicker, a little stiffer, and she looks up in surprise.

"Better living through chemistry," Grandpa says with a smirk. He guides her hand up and down, and this time it helps – it grows and hardens in Dee's hand. "Lick it for me," he orders.

Their hands are wrapped around the lower part, so she licks up as much of the shaft as she can. When she gets to the top, he says, "Again – stick your tongue out more and give me a show."

She drags her tongue in a stripe next to the first one, exaggerating the licking motion more, and Grandpa Samuel exhales and puts his free hand in her hair.

"Good girl – that's perfect, DeeDee." His face is dark in a pleased kind of way and Deanna feels a small wash of accomplishment at the praise. "Now take the whole head in your mouth and suckle it."

She sucks and licks him, careful to keep her teeth back when he tells her. It's uncomfortable and difficult, but he tells her how well she's doing with praise so emphatic that Deanna finds herself getting warm.

He keeps her on her knees for what feels like a very long time. Long enough for her feet to fall asleep and her tongue to grow exhausted. She pushes herself further past discomfort with every gentle pass of his hand in her hair.

"Put your hand between your legs and play with yourself," he eventually says. "Don't worry about your mouth, just keep it far enough open for me. You concentrate on getting your pussy wet."

Dee feels distantly alarmed by several aspects of the statement, but her jaw and knees hurt enough that it's hard to think about anything else. She's surprised to find she's already (or still) a little bit wet, and she smears it around her clit like Grandpa Samuel had done earlier. It's the first time she's ever masturbated skin on skin and it's messier, slipperier, different. But good.

She concentrating so deeply on touching herself that it takes her a few minutes to realize that Grandpa Samuel is thrusting his cock in her mouth. He's holding her head still and sawing in and out, slow and shallow. It makes her gush, for some reason, and her face prickles with shame. She works her fingers more quickly between her legs.

He pulls her mouth away. "Stand up."

He has to help her because her legs have fallen asleep. He rolls her onto her back on the bed and fixes the pillows, sitting near her hip. He slides his hand between her legs but this time he pushes one finger inside. He isn't careful at all.

"Ow, ow, ow - "

"It's alright," he murmurs, but he doesn't stop the painful probing. He adds a second finger. "Tiny little cunt. Bring your knees up to your chest."

She does, and it helps ease the discomfort a little, but not enough to prevent her panic as he climbs on top of her. He braces himself above her and kisses one of her breasts before reaching down and guiding the blunt head of his dick. He pushes forward and it hurts.

"Grandpa - "


"S-sam, please - " He keeps bearing forward, dick prying her apart, and he's so much bigger than his fingers. "Please, it hurts."

"I know, DeeDee, I know, but it has to. It'll get better. You need to relax and try to enjoy it. You're getting – shit – dry. That won't help."

The withdrawal of his cock hurts almost as much as the entry, and Deanna lets out a sob of relief when he pops free. She thinks maybe it's over as he sits up, but he just takes out a bottle and strokes a huge handful of stuff on himself.

He pushes in faster this time, not drawing it out, and it only hurts less because the stuff eases the way. He's still so big it feels like he's bruising her insides.

A tear spills over Deanna's lashes and trails out the corner of her eye. Grandpa kisses it. "There, it gets better from here. Wrap your legs around me and open up. Good girl. There's my good girl."

The same slow and shallow thrusts that made her wet when he pushed them in her mouth make her cry now, but it does get less painful, bit by bit. Or maybe, she thinks she just gets numb to the pain and it doesn't ease at all.

"You feel like heaven," Grandpa says against her ear, and Dee sobs just a little. "Shhhhh, sshh-shhh-shh."

The strokes get longer and he starts really moving between her legs, bracing above her and watching her face, which is grimaced because she can't manage anything else.

"You'll learn to like it," he pants out. "Gramma Dee was the same. She liked it more than she ever admitted, because she wasn't supposed to. These days, you're allowed to admit it."

Or maybe Gramma Dee was being honest, and never liked to do it. Deanna can't imagine wanting this for fun; it's becoming less painful, but it really doesn't feel good.

"My back's not what it used to be, and it takes forever to come these days. You're going to have to do most of the work."

He rolls them so that Dee is on top, and encourages her to sit up – when she does, she impales herself all the way and freezes, sucking air in through her teeth. Grandpa Samuel pillows his head on his arm; he still has lots of muscle, but it looks like chicken skin on the underside.

He thrusts up. "Go on and ride me."

If she stays all the way on him and just moves her hips, it doesn't hurt nearly as bad.

"That's it, roll them in a circle." His eyes are fixed between them, and he groans. "Keep going. Oh, fuck. Yeah." He squeezes her thigh with his free hand, kneading the muscle. "Fuck yourself up and down a little."

She does – carefully – and it's okay. Grandpa loves it. She braces herself on his belly and takes him a few more times before sinking deep and rolling her hips around, and he loves that too.

The grinding actually starts to feel good – the friction against his body on her clit, but he likes the thrusting better, so she goes back and forth, thrusting and grinding, thrusting and grinding. She starts to get wet again – she can feel it, different from the stuff that came from the bottle.

"There's my girl. You like the way that dick feels, don't you?" It makes her angry to hear him say that, knowing, but it's also sort of true. She ignores him and closes her eyes. "Bounce on it. Oh yeah. Yeah, look at those tits."

He reaches up and catches one, pinching at the nipple, but she's still rebounding on and off his cock, enjoying the wet slap, and it makes the pinch more like a pull. She cries out in pain but her clit throbs too.

"Help me sit up," he says after a while. "Wanna suck your little tits raw – you liked that."

She moves with him so he's leaning against the headboard. He takes her ass in both hands and grinds her in his lap. The friction feels really good, and when he leans up to kiss her, she lets him. She lets him bite at her lips and fuck her mouth with his tongue while she rocks against his pubis, faster and faster. She wants to come – he's right that she might as well enjoy it, it's so much easier when she lets herself like what they're doing – but when she tries to put her hand between their bodies, his fat is in the way.

Frustrated, she doubles her efforts and grinding against his body; it helps a lot when he stops kissing her and starts sucking on her nipple.

"Please. Please...." She starts breathing faster and that intensifies the pleasure she's feeling somehow, so she hyperventilates on purpose and gets closer. Grandpa's using his teeth on her nipple and she's so close. "Oh, oh, please – dad – daddy, please." She throws her head back and gasps, bumping her clit fast and frantic against his pubic bone. "Daddy – daddydaddy – aahh - "

It's not as good as the one that he gave her in the chair but it's enough, enough to make her feel good and get her soaking wet so she can fuck him like he wants. She bites her lip and imagines she's doing this with someone else – someone not as old but still strong and safe. Someone who'd never hurt her.

She rides the dick hard and fast, because he told her that's how to get him off and she wants to be done now, and have him hug her and say she did well. He's swearing in her ear but she's not listening.

Until he says, "I'm close – tell me how you love it, baby. Tell me how you like my dick."

"I love your dick, Daddy," she says because she's somewhere else in her head. "Feels so good."

"You like it in your mouth?"

She blocks out the reality and only thinks about the good parts. "Yes. I liked it in my mouth."

"What's better, mouth or cunt?"

"Both," she says because she doesn't see the difference. They were both terrible until they weren't. "Either one, whatever you want."

He's breathless. "Call me 'Grandpa.'"

"Grandpa, please. Please, Grandpa, I'm sore. I'm sore...."

His fingers bite into her skin as he grips her. "Where are you sore? Why?"

"My pussy. My pussy hurts, because your cock - "

He clutches her still, and ruts inside and she can feel his come add to the mess that's oozing out between them.

His arms go looser, but he keeps her close, kissing her throat sloppily and panting into her skin. He says he loves her, over and over, but it just makes her want to cry. She feels a little better once he lets her climb out of his lap. His cock's still hard, but he doesn't seem to expect anything done about it. They lay down and he pulls her close and holds her like he used to, when she was little.

She feels gross between her legs, but she doesn't want to get up.

"Maybe it's time you and your mom stuck around," Grandpa says. "Or if she insists on that crusade of hers, I should make her leave you here with me, where you'd be safe. Would you like that?"

"I...." Dee knows her mom will never settle down, not until the yellow-eyed demon is dead, but she'd move faster and easier without Deanna slowing her down. "Okay."

"Good girl." He presses his lips to the top of her head. "I'll talk to your Mom when she gets back. Grandpa's gonna get you what you need."
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tehdirtiestsock: (Default)

September 2015

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