5 comments/ 20411 views/ 3 favorites Jocelyn By: Nike_Auria She fought through the crowd again, the ruckus of men slapping her ass and rubbing against her. Her face was flush by the time she reached the lonely table with the quiet man sitting at it. His blue eyes studied her as she brushed her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes and took a deep breath. Plastering the fake smile on her face, she let her fiery green-eyed gaze studying his stubbly strong jaw. Something stirred in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away. Her soft pink lips entranced him for a moment. "What can I get you sir?" Her voice was soft, warm and sensual, like caramel floating on a breeze. For a moment, he searched for words and found none. The raise of her long thin eyebrow sent his heart racing as he searched for a response. "I'll take some mead please." His voice was quiet, yet commanding. She nodded and turned to head back through the crowd to fetch the mead. He eyes followed her, but once she had fought through the men to the bar, he could only see her braided hair. She held the tray above her head, a single pint of mead sitting on it as she began to push past the men. One stood and blocked her way, taking his time to fondle her breasts and run his dirty hands all over her hips and ass. She glanced up at the quiet man apologetically and in an attempt to get past the man, she dropped the tray and watched the mug shatter. The quiet man's eyes were glued to her, unable to look away from the panic on her face. The owner of the tavern walked up and raised his hand, back handing her across her high cheekbone so hard, she fell, hitting the ground hard. Her hair fell over her face, hiding her emotions from the quiet man. He stood, the sheer size of him gathering attention from all in the room. He stood about 6'9" and his black cloak brushed his ankles and the gold crest of royalty peaked out from his breastplate. The girl only looked up when she realized the rest of the room had bowed. The look on her face moved from panic and pain to horror and embarrassment. She lowered her head again in respect before He spoke. "This woman did nothing to deserve any of the treatment I have seen her just receive. I am a merciful king and for that, I will let you all live. But if I hear of another woman being treated as such ever again, so be it, I will send you all to the torture chamber! She is coming with me and no one is to say a thing about that." His words rang out in the silent room and he moved to her, she could only see his shiny boots. He bent down and helped her up; his touch was soft and firm. As she stood, she straightened her tattered dress, trying to quell the flutters inside her. He looked at her softly, speaking quietly to her again. "Are you ok?" His hand brushed across the red mark on her face. She kept her head down, partially in respect and partially in fear of looking in his eyes and seeing something there. She nodded slightly. The king nodded at her, took her hand and strolled out of the tavern, she glanced back and only saw the shocked face of the owner of the tavern, everyone else had not found the courage to look up yet. His hand was firm on hers as he led her to his horse; a guard was standing close by and the guard jumped to attention when the king walked up. He spoke quiet orders to the guard and picked her up, setting her on the horse. He mounted behind her, his body pressed close to hers as he reached around her waist and held the reigns, the guard mounted as well and with a kick, they were galloping through the streets of the village and out into the wilderness. The horses slowed to a trot and they rode in silence, she kept trying to think of something to say, but his warmth was so close it kept her from thinking much. Her breath quickened when she felt his scratchy stubble brush against her neck and push her hair away. His lips were so close to her ear as he whispered. "What is your name, girl." She shivered as his breath washed warmly over her ear and neck. She swallowed and tried to compose herself. "Jocelyn, Milord." He chuckled as he heard the huskiness in her voice. He arms tucking closer to her side. The faint smell of roses surrounded her and filled his nostrils. He involuntarily growled a bit at the sexiness of this woman in his arms. He heartbeat quickened and he pulled off the trail, calling an order to his guard to stay at the road. He led his horse to a stream and slid off, reaching up and pulling her down to him, their bodies close. His hands stayed on her waist and hers were resting on his big arms, she lifted her gaze to his, blushing slightly. His smile was warm and comforting and she slowly melted into him. Her nipples were hard and pressed against the thin fabric of her dress. "Come, sit with me Jocelyn." His voiced carried warmth and concern as his horse drank and he sat on the grass. "Yes Milord." She sat with him, close enough to not look like she was trying to stay away, but far enough to feel free from the intoxication he made her feel. "Call me Liam. No need to be so formal with me, after all, I just took you away from your home." His blue eyes gazed into hers, a crooked smile on his face as he leaned back and rested on his elbows. "Yes, Liam. Does this mean I will not be back?" There was no fear in her voice. There wasn't even regret resting in the afterthought of her words. She gaze became bold and strong, like it was when she was in the tavern, only this time, it was void of all annoyance and frustration. "You will only go back there if you chose to go back, but you are not allowed to make that decision yet. You will come with me to the palace and you will live there with me until you can learn another trade than waitressing. If, after your training you still wish to return, then I will not stop you." She nodded. Unsure of what to do until she saw the look in his eyes, knowing he desired her. She would show him her other 'trade.' She crawled to him and let her hair drape over his chest and head, leaning in and pressing her lips firmly to his, resting one hand on each side of his shoulders, holding herself over him through the kiss. His hands rested on her hips and she wiggled them slowly, moving to straddle his hips. She could tell his heart was racing and his mind was blowing, she had been trained to be able to read men when they were like this. She knew exactly what he needed. Resting back, she broke the kiss and looked at him, smiling at the reaction to her rocking her hips against his. He laid back and kept his eyes riveted on her. Watching her pull her dress off, sitting in just her corset. Her pussy was trimmed and glistening, rubbing against the tent in his pants. She reached back and unlaced the corset, letting it drop to the grass next to her dress. She rocked against him and ran her fingers through her hair. Unable to contain his desire any longer, he sat up, breathing closer to her neck as he used his abs to hold himself up and then pulled off his armor and tunic. Leaning in and sucking on the base of her neck lightly, his hands brush against her pussy, eagerly trying to untie his pants. With a soft laugh, she slid off him and untied his pants, pulling them off him with a smile as his cock sprang free. She moves back to her place, grinding the length of his cock against her slit, letting the tip kiss her clit, but not allowing any of his cock to be consumed in her tight pussy. Her eyes twinkled as she watched his quiet moans and reactions. She had never had an effect on someone like this and all it did was make her that much more wet. As she grinded on him, his moans became more needy until he growled and flipped her over, lining his cock up and slamming it deep in her. The tightness that surrounded him made him moan louder, looking down at her, he pulled out slowly and slammed in again, watching her back arch, pointing her nipples straight to him. He leaned down and began to suck her nipples as he pulled out and slammed back in. her clit rubbed against his cock with each stroke, her moans became loud and needy as well. He had seen her take control of the situation, but now he was in control. Her nails clawed at his back and her legs wrapped around his hips tight. Her hips rose to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He leaned down and sank his teeth into her neck gently, adding a bit of pain to her pleasure. Their moans united as they fucked with wild abandon. For an hour they moved together, kissing, licking, scratching and biting. She had orgasmed three times as he kept up his relentless fucking, his moans growing as the last orgasm she had clamped so tight on his cock, it was hard for him to move with any power. Sweat glistened on her body and her hair was a complete mess as he began to moan even louder. He leaned down and kissed her hard as he growled and spurted his cum deep into her, sending her over the edge once again. She bucked against him and screamed in pleasure as this orgasm lasted as long as his, shooting cum into her cunt, smiling as her pussy became completely filled with the combined cum. She smiled up at him as he finally began to breathe normally again her eyes showed exhaustion and he laughed softly, stroking her hair as she feel asleep. He waded into the river, cleaning up, then he dressed, dressed her and carried her to where his troops were waiting. He laid her in his bed in his tent and pulled the furs up closer to her, tucking her in and kissed her forehead. He left the tent and went on with his evening, speaking with is warriors and talking to his advisors. Finally, once the chores of the night were finished, he joined her in the warm bed, holding her close and falling asleep quickly. Jocelyn It wasn't the pain that bothered Hart, nor was it the strange numbness he felt in his fingers and toes, it was the odd sense of loss that pulsed through his body that saddened him. So ironic that just as he seemed reborn into life, it could change so quickly. It was like this when his wife died several years ago, a contentment, a satisfaction with day to day life was interrupted with details, a funeral and then the loneliness. Eventually he learned to exist in solitude, walking the damp cobblestone streets between the factory and his house without gazing beyond the dim street lights, stepping into the street to avoid the gatherings of people in front of the pubs. In the winter he endured the freezing rain while in summer he suffered the stench of the alleys, complacently accepting his gray existence, preparing himself for the eventual decline. But, just as he convinced himself he'd never know light again he met Jocelyn, a strange and very young rainbow in his dank, sepia world. They'd met one day when Hart tried to slip around the perimeter of a crowd outside a noisy pub only to be slammed with a taxi door as the slender woman stepped up onto the curb. Not initially noticing him, she was about to head inside when she saw him slump against the car, his knee aching badly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" Speaking slowly as he regained his composure, Hart said, "No, no, it's my fault, I was rushing around the crowd." "But you're limping, are you sure you're okay?" "Yes, I'll be okay," he replied, trying to walk normally. "Look, let me buy you a drink. You can sit down and rest your knee a bit," she said, acting sincere. "No, it's quite alright, besides a pretty young lady like yourself doesn't need to waste her time with someone like me." "Nonsense, I should have been more careful, at least come inside until we're sure your leg will be okay. Besides, you are a gentleman, none of the guys in here are half the man you are," she said, nodding at a couple of the guys ogling her. "It's just seems so noisy in there," Hart replied. Hooking her arm though his, she nodded toward another door a short ways away saying, "Look, there's another place, it's a lot quieter. Would you go in there?" Slowly limping alongside of her, Hart nodded, "Okay, but just one, it's been a while since I've had anything to drink." "We'll take it slow then," she replied, tossing her head back and letting her short blond hair with bright red streaks flop back off her forehead. "I'm Jocelyn, by the way." "And I'm Hart," he said, surprised when she acted as if she knew his name. He was about to say something to her about it when they stepped into the bar and she sat down at the table. It seemed so strange being with her, her light colored clothes, with her spectacular blonde and fiery red hair was so different from him in his gray pants and jacket. As she sat down he caught a glimpse down the front of her blouse, seeing nearly all of her small breasts. He ordered a beer, reminding himself Jocelyn, such a pretty name: Jocelyn, said they'd take it slow. They didn't take it slow and after only a few drinks, she had taken him back to her apartment and for the first time since his wife died he touched a woman. With the pain in his knee she had him relax on her couch as she climbed over him. He cupped her tiny breasts in his hands as she lowered herself on him, slowly taking all of him into her wet cunt. She enveloped his cock in a wet softness he hadn't felt in years and as she just began to move up and down on him he squeezed her breasts hard and came, spurting his warm cum deep inside her. "I'm sorry, it's been..." "Shhh," she said, leaning forward, kissing his lips. She then began to move over him, grinding herself on him as his cock slowly shrank. When he slipped out of her, she continued moving, sliding her clit down over the base of his cock. Moaning, she began to move faster and faster as she dropped her hands down to his chest and tangle her fingers in his hair, pulling it as she moved. As she came, she cried out, "Yes, yes, oh yes," and then collapsed upon him, her breasts flattening out between them. Hart moved his arms around her and they remained together for some time as he could feel her heart beating against his chest. It felt so strange feeling her body on him, feeling the touch of human skin, the softness of a woman's breast, and the firm feel of her against his cock. Later, after he dressed and left her apartment, he could still smell her on him, an earthy fragrance that made him feel alive once again. He felt so alive he didn't notice the movement in the shadows as he walked, a movement that remained just out of site until he was safely home. When he walked to work the next morning there was no movement in the shadows, in fact the sun seemed to shine through the perennial smog. Later, when he received a phone call he was surprised, "Jocelyn, how did you get my number?" "I knew you worked at the factory and since I knew your name..." :"But you only know my first name," he interrupted. "You don't know do you?" "Know what?" "Never mind," she said. "But..." "No, no, a girl's got to have some mystery, anyway, I'd like to see you again." "Really, I mean I enjoyed last night but I didn't think..." "You didn't think what?" "It's just that... well I thought..." "Are you dumping me then?" she asked, giggling a bit. "No, no, I just didn't think you'd be interested." "You just didn't think. Now, shall we meet at the bar?" "Okay, say seven?" "See you then," she replied. Hart breezed through the rest of the day, glancing up at the slow moving clock. When seven finally rolled around, he threw on his jacket and headed out into the street with the crowd of workers. As they quickly dispersed into the parking lot, Hart crossed the street and began walking down the dark cobblestone streets leading from the factory. It was a bleak few blocks before he would get into the nicer part of town, but he was accustomed to the walk and had never had any problems. After completing just a couple of blocks, he noticed a figure waiting near a boarded up building. He was about to cross the street when he heard a voice call out, "Hart, Hart Anders?" "Yes, that's me," he called out, heading toward the man. "It's me, Jason Crewe. You remember me don't you?" "Yes Jason, Betty and I used to visit you and Gloria all the time. How are you?" he asked, reaching his hand out to shake. Suddenly he noticed a strange flash of light and he felt the burning pain searing into his gut. The light flashed again and again as the knife sliced into him and then he fell. "But..." "You remember Jocelyn too?" "Jocelyn?" "For Christ's sake, she used to sit on your lap man!" "Jocelyn? Yes little Jocelyn, I'd read to her. But why?" Hart asked, fighting for breath. "Did she sit on your lap last night?" "Last night?" It suddenly struck him why she knew his name. She had seemed familiar, but, she could only have been, only... "Jocelyn?" "She's barely out of high school, just turned eighteen last year you pig." "But I didn't know, I didn't..." he stopped as he felt the boot crash into his ribs. He then listened silently at the footsteps as the man walked briskly away. Remembering how he read stories to the little girl and then remembering the feel of the young woman's breasts in her hands he felt the pain slip away as numbness overcame him. He tried to breathe but couldn't as he remembered the soft sensation of her body on his, the last time he kissed her, and then the last time he read to her. Jocelyn's Luck "Damn!" Jocelyn cursed. Once again their date would fall through over the need to work late. This time she double cursed herself, because it was due to her needing to work late. And this time she didn't even try to make time for play too, she'd just wanted to get some alone time face to face over dinner with Mitch so she could feel that spark again. With the kid's school and after school events, weekend swim lessons, and on and on, she was lucky to share a dinner on weekends with the four of them together. She wondered when she'd last had any time just with Mitch. They'd stayed up late to watch a movie 3 weeks ago. And Sex? Ha! She thought to herself, it had been over 2 months since she'd had any play. She was just so burned out...they were both burned out, going through their days like zombies, only able to soak up some smiles for the brief moments they could steal a moment in the car or over a bite to eat with the kids. Somehow those kids stopped wanting to do much with mom and dad...she wondered when exactly that happened. She was so frustrated that she begged Mitch to call the babysitter and cancel. She mentally cursed again, then put it out of mind and got back to work. It wasn't until 12:30 that she'd made it home. It took an extra hour to get home due to the snow storm. People seemed to be relearning how to drive in the ice and slush, and the plows kept everyone creeping along at 25 miles per hour down the highway. Heck just getting out of the parking lot was chancy, since a good 4 inches of slushy snow had piled up at the exit she needed to go out. She was wet and cold, and when she slipped on the driveway and slathered herself in slush she growled her frustration. She looked up as the Christmas lights seemed to laugh at her as they twinkled gaily. Just great, this is how my day ends, she thought to herself. She picked herself up and went to the door. After fumbling with the lock for a few seconds she finally entered the door. The foyer was pitch as she roughly kicked her shoes off and hung her coat up and started up the stairs to check on the kids. She quietly opened their room and looked inside. The bed was empty. As Jocelyn made her way to her bedroom she again moved quietly to open the door. She expected to see the kids sleeping on Mommy's side of the bed fast asleep with Mitch. When she started to open the door she saw the soft light of the lamp by her bed, but as she opened the door further she saw the bed was empty. Then she saw him sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, looking her straight in the eyes. "The kids are at the neighbors," he said flatly, before his voice suddenly took on an aggressive tone. "Is this how you come home young lady?" he asked loudly, with a sudden edge in his voice. "Do you know how long I've been waiting up for you?" He paused for a moment. She looked at him, then bowed her head slightly and looked at a spot about 2 feet in front of her toes. "Do you?" he asked again harshly, still sitting sternly, with his hands on his knees, leaning forward slightly. Jocelyn opened her mouth a moment, rolling her eyes up in her still bowed head just enough to see his shoes, but no words came out. "That's it young lady. I've had enough of this behavior. You go out living it up to all hours of the night. And look at you, you're a mess, you're obviously fall down drunk, aren't you? I'll bet that boy you've been hanging around got you drunk didn't he?" he asked accusingly. "No Daddy, I didn't drink, I just slipped," she said as tears started to well up in her eyes. "I didn't drink, I promise." "Let me smell your breath," Mitch responded harshly. Jocelyn looked up but didn't move. "Hurry up and get over here," he demanded. Jocelyn walked over slowly, tears coming down her face. She leaned down towards Mitch's face and opened her mouth, breathing forcefully so he could smell her breath. "Good girl, I'm proud of you for not drinking. But you know what time it is. I said be home by 11:30 on weekends, Jocelyn, and I meant it. This is the second time this week and fifth time this month you've blatantly ignored the rules, and I am not about to let it slide this time. You do know what time you're supposed to be home don't you?" He asked her. "Yes Daddy, but..." she started, before he curtly cut her off. "No more buts, young lady. You've been warned. I think it's time to adjust the consequences. Grounding you last weekend didn't help. I think I'll have to bring back the spankings." He said resignedly, his voice suddenly flooding with disappointment. "No Daddy, I'll be good, I promise." She started, before searching for another reason, "I'm too old for a spanking, Daddy; I'm in High School now." "Yes you are, in High School, but you're not acting like it," He said, his voice suddenly getting very calm. "I'm very disappointed in you, and this needs to stop. Pretty soon you're grades will start suffering if you keep being distracted by boys and parties. Now I haven't had to give you a paddling in five years when you deliberately broke your brother's new toy on Christmas day just because you were upset you didn't get what you wanted. You remember that, don't you?" he asked. Jocelyn nodded silently, her tears drying for a bit, "Yes, Daddy." "And you never touched his toys again did you, Jocelyn?" He pressed on. "No Daddy, I learned my lesson," she said resignedly. "And you're going to learn this lesson too. We set these curfews for a reason. Now go get the paddle, it's still sitting in the shirt drawer where you put it back five years ago. I was hoping I'd never have to use it again, but you've got to learn." He paused for a moment, "And take those clothes off, you'll catch cold. Just put on one of my shirts and hurry up so we can get this done and you can go back to bed." Jocelyn went to the drawer and opened it up. Her fingers trembled as she moved the shirts aside enough to find the wooden paddle. She then took a clean t-shirt. She turned her back on Mitch and quickly disrobed and put the shirt on, leaving her plain panties on. She then took the paddle out of the drawer and walked slowly back to Mitch, holding the paddle out to him handle first with trembling hands. Mitch took the paddle with a quiet reverence. He gripped it firmly in his right hand and slid his left hand along the lacquered cherry wood. The paddle was elegance itself, he thought to himself as he stood up quietly. Jocelyn watched him closely. In that moment, everything was pressed out her mind; there was no work, no kids, and no adult responsibilities. In that moment she was 15 again, well behaved and well intentioned most of the time, but slowly beginning to rebel against her father as she tried to assert her independence. In that moment she was a scared girl, knowing she was going to be punished and feeling ashamed for having disappointed her father. She began to cry. "I'm so sorry Daddy, I want to be a good girl," she said meekly. "You are a good girl, honey, you just need a reminder so you'll learn," he said softly and turned the chair around, so it faced away from Jocelyn. He patted the back of the chair, "Now come here and hold onto the edge of the chair, you remember how to do this." Jocelyn wiped her eyes and went over to the chair and bent forward over the low backed chair and braced her hands on the arm rests. She bent her head low into the cushion of the chair, the bottom of the shirt pooling at the low of her back, exposing her white plain panties. She bit her lip as she thought about what was to come. The sudden crack that erupted was a surprise. There was no warm up, just a searing stab of pain. She gave a guttural moan through clenched teeth. "How old are you, Jocelyn?" He asked firmly. It took a moment for her to answer. "I'm fifteen, Daddy," she replied. "Then we'll give you fourteen more good one's like that, that should help remind you to come home on time," he stated. Jocelyn whimpered as Mitch's hand began to caress her bottom. He began spanking her with his open hand as he talked to her. "This time we'll warm you up properly," he said soothingly even as he began to spank more rapidly. "I want you to last, Jocelyn, so you can learn how important it is to follow the rules," he said as he began to spank harder. "I think you're ready aren't you?" Jocelyn's breathing was coming faster now, and it was hard for her to answer. She dug her fingers into the arm rests and braced herself, "Yes Daddy, I'm ready." No sooner did she finish getting the words out of her mouth than she felt the crack of the paddle on her bottom. She yelped loudly. "That's number two," he said matter-of-factly, before smacking her ass again three more times in quick succession. "And three, four, and five," he continued as Jocelyn screamed wildly. Her breath was coming fast and heavy now, and she began to cry. Mitch rubbed her ass for several minutes, giving it occasional spanks until Jocelyn's breath began to slow down. "Are you ready to keep going?" he asked her tenderly. Jocelyn nodded her head, "Yes Daddy." Mitch took his time now, giving her five smacks, somewhat softer than before but in rapid succession. Again Jocelyn began to scream, this time, her whole body began trembling. She began grunting with each ragged breath, but when Mitch leaned over and whispered in her ear, she still nodded. "Yes Daddy, I'm learning my lesson. I'll be a good girl, I promise." "That's what you say now, but five more good smacks will cement this in your brain," he persisted. He let her catch her breath while he stroked her bottom tenderly. "Now be strong, Jocelyn. Count these next ones." Mitch swung his arm back and came crashing down fiercely. Jocelyn shrieked, began to sob for several long seconds before she could reply. "Eleven," she said with a proud voice. Mitch gave three gentle slaps. He playfully smiled, and tickled her sides, making Jocelyn's wobbly knees nearly buckle as her brain fought to process the array of sensations. However, when she didn't respond quickly, Mitch gave her thigh a vicious pinch. "Don't forget to count," he reminded her. Jocelyn squirmed as she regained her footing. "Yes Daddy," she responded. "Twelve, thirteen, fourteen." Mitch stroked the paddle against her bottom, caressing her tenderly. "Now there's only one left, Jocelyn, so brace yourself. Are you ready?" Jocelyn gripped the armrests firmly, buried her face into the seat cushion, and gave a muffled affirmative reply. She braced herself mentally, pushing through the fear and pain, ad fighting back the tears. Her breath came slow and ragged as she prepared herself. Mitch waited for her, watching her closely for the signs that she was ready. When he thought she was ready, he deliberately began counting down from thirty, making her wait in anticipation. He raised his arm slowly, and positioned his feet carefully. He aimed carefully, and then with a grunt swung hard and fast. Jocelyn screamed and her head shot up, as her ass thrust forward as far as it could into the back of the chair. She held her self there as her screaming turned to crying. Mitch stroked her back tenderly, and she turned back into him and buried her face into his chest as she sobbed. "I want to be a good girl for you, Daddy," she blubbered softly. Mitch held her to him and rocked her gently. As she began to calm down she snuggled closer into him and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. She began to kiss and suckle his neck softly. "You've been such a good girl, Jocelyn," he reassured her soothingly as hand stroked from her hair, down her neck, and down her back. Jocelyn kissed her way up his neck to his jaw. Then she trailed her kisses down to his chin, before finally seeking out his lips. She savored his lips tenderly, and moaned as she felt his hands move behind her head to embrace her. She felt herself melting into him, as they wordlessly kissed. Mitch lifted her up into his arms gently and took her to the bed, laying her back tenderly. She looked at him silently as his hands trailed up her thigh to her panties. He gripped them at her hip and then wrenched them down her legs viciously. He rolled her over, looking over her bruised bottom. Jocelyn worked her knees up so her seared ass was lifted high into the air. Then, pressing up with her hands onto all fours, she looked over her shoulders at Mitch. Her look was one of quiet desperation and yearning. Mitch wasted no time in undoing his belt and stripping his pants and underwear off before climbing up into bed behind her. He grunted as braced his hands on her hips and nestled his knees up behind hers. He guided his hardened cock to her entrance and easily slipped it into Jocelyn's already moist pussy. He eased his hips up against her, burying himself deeply inside her. Then he leaned over her, letting her feel his weight as he braced himself on her shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh as he began to make love to her. Jocelyn gave a grateful moan as she pressed her hips back into his, straining to feel him fully imbedded inside her. His hips rocked slowly at first, his cock slowly sliding in and out of her tight pussy. With each forward thrust, Jocelyn responded by thrusting her ass back into him, grinding back hungrily. Slowly their tempo increased. The time between thrusts became shorter, and each one made Jocelyn shudder with the force. Her arms began to buckle and she started to lower her shoulders. Mitch wouldn't let her collapse though, instead entwining her long hair in his fingers as he gripped her as if holding onto the reigns of a mare. Jocelyn began to grunt in pleasure through her rapid, ragged breaths, savoring the feeling of being ridden; of being possessed. Mitch rode her like that aggressively for several minutes, until her grunts turned into wordless screams as she orgasmed multiple times, her fluids washing over their thighs. It only took a few minutes before Mitch found himself crashing down into her as he exploded inside her. His sudden weight knocked the breath out of Jocelyn and she strained to breath as he laid atop her for several long seconds, still grinding into her. After a moment he began to relax and pulled out of her, turning his fierce embrace into a tender cradling. Jocelyn, whose breath was now slowly coming back to normal, gave a contented moan and adjusted under him so she felt comfortable. After a few minutes in this quiet embrace, she finally whispered her gratitude, "Thank you Daddy. Thank you so much." They cradled each other like that for over half an hour before Jocelyn could finally unwind herself both physically and emotionally from their play. She rolled over to look at Mitch, admiring the tiny details of his face as she smiled at him. He grinned back at her lovingly. "I really needed this," she said. "I love you so much." "I love you too," he responded before wrapping her back up into his arms, and giving her a tender kiss on her forehead. He cradled her like that as they drifted to sleep. Jocelyn's last thought was how truly lucky she really was.