Candy's Daddy

Professional Reviews

"Ms. Lee has an unmistakable talent for detailed descriptions that paint pictures in the reader's mind…Candy's journey into finding herself, and realizing who she is and what she needs is worth reading about.…it will entertain with naughty sex, and fantasies galore."

Lolita, Joyfully Reviewed

"Cherry Lee took me completely by surprise with Candy’s Daddy. …I wasn’t expecting to become so engrossed in a story that sounds a bit taboo. [It] made me blush as it got my juices flowing. Candy’s Daddy was well told, letting us…know more about age play, but not cheating us from a highly erotic and racy story…will definitely feed your naughty side."

Excerpt

Bob studied the young woman sitting in the passenger seat of his car. His heart pounded and his body tensed with anticipation. An inner voice repeated incessantly, She’s perfect. She’s exactly who you’ve been looking for.

Candy’s petite form floating through the bar from table to table had first gained his attention. She was a slight, slender woman with long brown hair. When she’d come to the bar for more drinks, he’d been able to see her features more clearly. Her eyes were as wide and brown as a doe’s. Her nose was small and up-tilted, and her pouting lips were painted a glistening pink. She was adorable and he instantly desired her with the unreasonable passion of a man who’d been alone for far too long.

Now, astonishingly, she was sitting here in his garage, asking him what he intended to do with her. Anything. Everything. And not only sex, although that was high on his wish list right now. He wanted to get to know Candy intimately, to find out if she was the special woman he’d been waiting for, to learn if she was open to all the kinds of play he enjoyed. He wanted to know if he’d finally found his little girl at last.

But what he said was, “Well, to start with, why don’t we go inside and have a drink.”

He got out and took a couple of deep breaths as he circled the car before opening the door for Candy. He took her hand to help her out and didn’t let go as he led her into the house. He hand was so wonderfully soft and warm in his.

She exclaimed over the size and the pristine state of his kitchen. “You must love to cook. Look at these.” She pulled away from him to run a hand over the copper bottoms of the pots hanging on one wall, setting them jangling.

“I do,” he admitted. “It’s my hobby, and I’m a sucker for cooking shows, too.” Suddenly he knew how to break the ice and learn more about each other. “I’ll cook something for you now. What do you want to eat?”

“Really?” Her beautiful eyes grew even larger. God, how he wanted to touch the fringe of lashes with his fingertip. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“I told you, I love to cook and I rarely have an excuse to cook for anyone.” Bob took a frying pan off the wall and set it on the range. “An omelet,” he decided for her. It would be easily and quickly done so they could move on to the next portion of the evening.

He quickly assembled the ingredients he needed. When Candy offered to chop, he urged her onto a high stool beside the counter. “You’ve been on your feet all evening. Rest and watch.” He poured her a glass of wine to sip.

Candy kicked off her shoes and her bare toes curled around the bottom rung of the stool. He longed to pinch each pink-painted nail. She followed his gaze to her feet and smiled, a smug little smirk that told him she knew he was aroused by her bare feet. She flexed them once before clenching them around the rung again.

“Now it’s your turn to tell about yourself,” she said. “Where did you live before you moved here?”

“Tallahassee. And before that Cleveland and Denver. I’ve lived in a lot of cities, but I grew up in Cedarville, Wisconsin. So at heart I guess I’m a small town boy. I was an only child. Both my parents died quite young. Dad from a heart attack and mom in a car accident.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” Her brows drew together in concern.

He nodded, accepting her condolences. “It’s been years, but I still miss them. We were close, a very loving family.” He steered the conversation away from the somber topic as he refilled her wine glass. “I feel like I should be pouring you a glass of milk rather than wine. If you don’t mind my saying, you look very young to be working at a bar.”

Candy laughed, a delightful, tinkling sound. “I get that a lot. I know I look about twelve, but I’m twenty-five. How about you? How old are you, Bob?”

“A bit older. Thirty-nine. Does that bother you?” He held his breath, taken aback by how important her answer was to him.

“Not at all. I like older men. In my experience, they know what they want and what they’re doing. I appreciate that.” She paused, sipped, and added, “I like a man who takes charge in the bedroom. It’s pretty hot.”

Her admission of submissiveness was just what he wanted to hear. Bob probed a little further as he whisked the eggs to a froth. “Would you say you’re adventurous?”

“Very.” She set the glass on the counter with a click and slid off the stool. “You?”

“I can be.” He stopped beating the eggs and gazed down into her face, tilted up toward his. “Role playing can be fun.”

“Yes indeed.” Candy grinned. “Disobedient serving wenches who deserve a whipping. Secretaries who ruin a big account and get spanked by their bosses. Naughty schoolgirls earning a punishment from the headmaster.”

“Do all your fantasies center around punishment?” Bob set the bowl on the counter and reached out to stroke his finger from her throat up to her chin, tipping it higher. “Loving care can be sexy, too. Daddies taking care of their little girls.”

His cock twitched just from saying the words. He swallowed hard and awaited her reaction. If she showed distaste, as many women did, he would gloss over the fantasy and move on to something else. Maybe repressed librarians waiting to be awakened.

But Candy’s eyes lighted up at the idea. “You like to play at being a Daddy.”

Honey, I’d love to be your Daddy. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever and for as long as you’d like.

“I think it’s kind of hot,” he admitted.

“Not everyone does,” she said. “I’ve used my little girl voice before and just about driven men right out of bed.”

He cleared his throat and murmured low. “Let me hear your little girl voice.” He stroked her throat with his finger again and felt the subtle vibration when she spoke.

“I’m hungry, Daddy. Will you make something for me to eat?” The high, breathy request nearly made him come.

“Absolutely, baby girl.” He closed the last few inches between them and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss before pulling away. “But first, would you like to do something for me?”

“What, Daddy?” Christ, the sound of her soft voice calling him that drove him crazy. He wanted to protect and cuddle her, to possess and ravage her.

“Would you like to play a little game before I make your food?”

She clapped her hands together. “I love games.”

“In this one, Daddy will take some of his clothes off and you’ll play at sucking on a Popsicle.”

“All right. That sounds fun. Shall we play right here?”

“No. In the living room.” Bob put his arm around her shoulders and guided her from the kitchen to the other room. He sank down on the plush comfort of the sofa and pulled Candy onto his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled against him while he stroked her hair and told her what a good girl she was. Candy nuzzled into the side of his neck, rubbing her nose against his jaw. “Scratchy.” She giggled. “Daddy needs to shave.”

He let her explore him with her mouth and hands, touching his face, his neck and rubbing her hand over his chest and shoulders through his shirt until he couldn’t stand it any more. His throbbing cock pressed hard against his jeans and he was desperate to feel her warm hand and wet mouth surrounding it.

Bob grasped Candy around the waist and lifted her off his lap. “You should kneel in front of me for this game. Pretend the ice cream truck drove past. You begged me for money, but I didn’t have any change in my pockets so I had to say no.”

Candy was a natural at role playing. She fell right into his story, drawing her brows together in a frown and jutting out her lower lip. “Daddy, why can’t I have ice cream. I want some!”

“Honey, not today. I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“But I want some,” she wheedled. “I have allowance. I could go buy it with my own money.”

“Not today,” he said firmly. “The truck is gone now anyway. It’s too late. Besides, you have to learn you can’t always have your way.”

“You’re mean.”

“Do you want a spanking, Candy? Mind your tone.”

“No.” She sounded exactly like a disappointed child. “This isn’t a very fun game.”

Bob sighed. “Look. Maybe I have something that will make up for you not getting an ice cream cone. I have something that’s sort of like a Popsicle only not cold. Would you like to see it? And then if you want, maybe I’ll let you suck it.”

Immediately her face brightened. Again she clapped her hands together. “Where is it? Show me.”

Bob reached for his zipper and slowly drew it down.