“Just a moment then, sweet girl. We’ve got to get on the bus.”
I nodded and dug for my bus pass as I moved to the end of the line. We only had a few stops to go on the bus, five minutes at most, and more people had gotten off the bus than on, but I walked to an empty pair of seats near the rear door. We’d be largely shielded from others in front and behind and I suspected that would make the next few minutes far more enjoyable.
I sat down in the window seat with Daddy beside me, the aisle to his right, the grocery bag on his lap further blocking my body from view.
His left hand landed on my knee, then slid inward, upward, toward my pussy, and I shivered, my nipples hardening again from his attention as well as the air conditioning.
“What do you need, Good Girl? What do you say?” Daddy whispered, kissing my ear and then biting my earlobe.
The sting zipped through my body and I squirmed, needing more.
“I need you to touch me, please? Please, Daddy — touch my pussy in front of all these people, without anyone knowing. Please make me cum in public. I need it so bad, I need you, I need your fingers under my skirt. Feel how wet I am, how much I need my Daddy. Please…”
His hand moved with glacial slowness til I ached to just pick it up and move it to where I needed, but a Good Girl waits for permission, because a Good Girl isn’t in control of pacing; her Daddy decides when and where she gets to cum. It felt as though 20 minutes had passed, though it couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds, but finally, finally I felt Daddy’s fingers move from the inside of my thigh to the crease of it, skimming the edge of my panties with a touch so light I couldn’t tell if it were real or imagined.
“Oh, my Good Girl *is* wet. Just dripping for Daddy, aren’t you?” he said, increasing the pressure as he ran a finger up and down my panties, up and down and up again, til I was squirming and starting to be unable to suppress my moans.
“Do you need something, Good Girl? Tell Daddy *exactly* what you need,” he ordered, even as he slipped beneath my panties, coating his finger in my cum.
“Daddy. I just need Daddy. I need Daddy’s fingers, or mouth, or cock, I don’t care, but Daddy — Daddy, may I cum, please? May I cum in public again, on the bus with all these people around us and your fingers inside my pussy? Please, Daddy, I need it so badly.”
“Well you’re asking so nicely, aren’t you? How can I say no when you beg so prettily? Come here, my Good Girl,” he said, reaching up his other hand to turn my face towards him. He leaned in and I opened my mouth, touching my tongue to his lips, then opening further. Warm and wet, he plunged his tongue in and out and in and out of my mouth, again and again, rumbling in his chest as I sucked on it, wishing for his cock, even as his fingers plunged into my pussy while his thumb pressed deliciously down on my clit and I clenched around him, need to cum, needing to let go, but holding on with every bit of willpower I possessed. I was so wet now I could feel it on the seat beneath me. Could smell my scent perfuming the air. The bus turned left, just one stop left before ours, and he slid into me a bit on the turn, the pressure of his body weight making me feel restrained against the bus window, amping up my pleasure even further.
Then finally, *finally*, he pulled my head lower down, pressed my mouth into his shoulder, and whispered into my ear.
“You can cum now, Z,since you’ve been such a Good Girl. Cum for Daddy.”
I squirted. The taboo of being in public never fails to make me cum hard, and Daddy knows just how to touch me to make it extra good. I’m pretty sure I sort of whisper-screamed, moaning into his shoulder, because I *definitely* got some head turns as we walked off the bus, Daddy thankfully having pulled the cord for our stop, though I hobbled more than walked, my knees weak and the back of my skirt VERY damp, though the black of it hid most everything from sight, I think.
“Let’s go, my Good Girl,” Daddy said, as the bus trundled off down the road. “Almost home. Then we can unpack the groceries, and Daddy is going to feed you your favourite snack.”
“Oooh, yes, Daddy!” I squealed. “You know how much I love eating you up,” I finished, wiggling my eyebrows and pulling his arm as I skipped down the street ahead of him. “Come on, Daddy! I’m hungry!”
“Well, far be it for me to let my Good Girl go hungry,” he said, and feed me well he did.
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