Page 16 of Daddy's Stowaway
When Antonia joinedme in the shower, I was already partly rigid in anticipation of her luscious mouth wrapping around my cock.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said as she stepped in. “I see my appetizer is ready to be inhaled.”
The sparkle of mischief in her eye had my cock spring fully to attention. Antonia got down on her knees, the rain head showering her in water and flattening her finely woven golden hair to her head.
She gazed up at me with a look of pure lust and said, “Feed me, Daddy.”
I groaned and placed my hand on her head, guiding my cock into her willing mouth. My head tipped back, and my knees slackened as she started with long, slow licks from top to bottom before teasing my cockhead with her tongue. Then she started inching down my cock, going deeper until she was deepthroating me, her tongue playing with my base. At this rate, I’d blow in her mouth way too soon. Antonia seemed to sense how close I was and backed off just enough for me to regain some control over my raging libido.
As I took a breath, Antonia gripped my cock at the base and pressed until the head was down her throat. Holy shit, I thought her magic as she just accomplished what no other woman had ever been able to do because of my length. The heat ripped through me, and I shot my load down her throat with such intensity that I lost track of everything: time, location, and even who I was.
“Antonia,” I growled, “at this rate, you’re going to kill me. That was the best fucking blow job of my life.”
“Blow job,” she said, gazing up at me innocently. “I thought it was a cock-tail, Daddy.”
I groaned as her words washed over me. I was definitely the luckiest bastard who ever walked the earth. I lifted her to her feet and sat her down on the shower bench. It was my turn to be on my knees, pleasuring her. And as soon as her legs were parted, I dove in. Breaching her swollen lips with my tongue, I gently scraped the sensitive flesh with the bristly stubble on my chin. Antonia moaned and grabbed hold of her nipples, tugging on them while my tongue danced inside her sheath, sending tiny tremors deep inside of her. It wasn’t long until she arched and uttered a hard moan as she gushed over my face. I lapped up her juices and managed to topple her off the edge one more time into oblivion. When we exited the shower, we were both ready to relax and eat real food, not each other.
“Here is the t-shirt you asked for.” I dug to the bottom of my athletic wear and found an ultra-soft old shirt I knew she’d love with a few rips in it.
“This is perfect,” she squealed as she pulled it on, hiding her magnificent tits. “Do you have boxer shorts too?”
I rifled through my drawer and found a pair. She slid them up her sexy legs and over her bountiful heart-shaped ass. Fuck, looking at her in my clothing was making me hard again. I threw on a pair of old gray track pants and couldn’t remember the last time I’d slummed it at my home with no thoughts to business.
We grabbed plates, napkins, and water bottles from the kitchen and took them to the movie room. It wasn’t a screening room like in my home back in Michigan, but the room did boast an eight thousand dollar, 150-inch wall-mounted screen with surround sound. Opposite, I had two large couches and a couple of leather storage ottomans. I pulled out some blankets and pillows and let Antonia arrange them how she wanted while I went and grabbed us a bottle of red and the pizzas, which were just being delivered. When I came back, my girl had everything arranged and was practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
“I’m so excited. I know you’re going to love it and we’re going to have so much fun. My last TV had three channels, a cracked screen, and was about twenty-two inches. This is so big!” She waved her hand at the large screen.
“I’m glad you’re excited, and I admit, I haven’t watched anything in this room, so it’s a first for me too.”
She turned wide eyes on me. “You’re kidding, how come?”
That was an excellent question. Why indeed? I had to think about it, and when I answered, it was only a partial truth.
“I’m not here often, and when I am, I work long hours.”
She looked thoughtful like she was weighing my answer.
“Well, not tonight. Tonight, we’re binge-watchingShark Tankand eating pizza and relaxing. Are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Then sit down and let me get you comfy, Daddy.”
I let her fuss with the blanket and pillows, and then she passed me a plate with pizza. She set down a tray beside me with our water, napkins, and glasses of red. Then she got herself ready while I found the show she wanted to see.
I had to admit that the presentations were enlightening. Despite the so-called wealthy business experts offering up deals, I thought of a dozen ways to draft different partnerships and work with the companies they accepted and those they didn’t. More importantly, it inspired me to look locally for more small, struggling businesses with excellent products that I could partner with and support.
Six episodes and three glasses of wine later, Antonia fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. I slunk lower and enjoyed the feel of her body partially draped over mine. I guessed this was what was meant by the term familial bliss—and I liked it.
I opened my eyes sometime in the wee hours, realizing we both fell asleep on the couch. I put the pizza in the fridge, corked the second bottle of wine, and then scooped up my princess and carried her to bed.
But once we were tucked away, sleep was elusive. I got up and gazed through the window out to sea. The moon was full, casting its silvery light over the ocean, an exquisite canvas I would never grow tired of seeing. I left the room and went down to my office. Opening my laptop, I found an email from a friend I had inside the FBI. He’d attached a mug shot of a man who may have been attractive if not for the long scar along his cheek and the look of death in his eyes. He was one scary-looking dude. Mitch Markos, an enforcer for the Sina Cartel, based out of Latin America.
The following attachment was of a much younger Antonia, her face beaten black and blue. My contact had found a way to get to her sealed records. The third attachment was a copy of the FBI’s watchlist showing Markos’ name on it. An accompanying note said he was thought to be the assassin of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Bloom.
We were having issues here, in French Polynesia, with the drug trade. It began in 2014 but had really picked up in the past four years. The same cartel, Sina, was moving cocaine through international waters. I needed more answers as to the connection between Antonia and the shithead who beat her up. It had to be this Markos character. Maybe he found a use for her after killing her parents?
I quickly dropped a note and a transfer to my contact, Buck, and shut down the computer. One thing was for sure. When I found out who did that to her, I would have them tortured before they were killed.