Sunday morning arrives too fast.

I wake up to the feel of Daddy already moving inside me. He is behind me under the covers, one arm locked around my waist, cock sliding in and out in slow, deep strokes. The room is still dim. Outside, birds are just starting to sing.

“Last day,” he murmurs against the back of my neck. “I’m not wasting a minute of it.”

He keeps the pace unhurried but relentless. Every time he bottoms out I feel how sore and used I already am from the last two days. My body still opens for him anyway. I push back to take more. He groans quietly...