Dadsbf John Price - Blog Posts

”is that what you’re wearing today, doll?”

“yes, why, you don’t like it daddy?🥺”

“your dad fine with that?”

“go ask him, sir, you’re his best friend”

“the thighs, off. in my pocket, now”

“you’re gonna keep them?”

“yeah, just like I’m gonna keep you tied to my office chair if you don’t stop teasing me. behave, sweetheart”

”is that what you’re wearing today, doll?”

“yes, why, you don’t like it daddy?🥺”

“your dad fine with that?”

“go ask him, sir, you’re his best friend”

“the thighs, off. in my pocket, now”

“you’re gonna keep them?”

“yeah, just like I’m gonna keep you tied to my office chair if you don’t stop teasing me. behave, sweetheart”

…dbf!john that has to take care of her while her dads on a business trip?

you were enthusiastic at the idea of finally being able to spend some quiet time home all alone with no yelling from your dad, no loud voices, just peace. but evidently he had different plans for you.

“oh,” you stopped mid walk right in the middle of the stairs, a sudden rush of warmth spreading over your chest and cheeks at the sight of john in your living room, manspreading on the couch “what are you doing here sir?”

john raised both brows in amusement, you were his favorite sight, so sweet and delicate, young and forbidden, “yer dad asked me to take care of y’a while he’s away, doll”

“but i don’t need it, i can be left alone,” you replied hesitantly, walking down the last stairs. your eagerness from earlier was now replaced with your signature shyness and bashfulness, just like every time you were around him — butterflies filled your stomach and you couldn’t even master coherent sentences or thoughts, you excelled in college but turned out a blubbering and stammering mess with this man.

“know you do, angel,” he said, his gruffness somehow softening when talking to you, “just doing my mate’s a favor”

maybe your dad didn’t know it, but he was doing you a favor by letting his best friend stay over. ”alright, sir,” you shrugged softly, and john’s pants almost stiffened—so obedient, so docile all the time. you were such a good girl.

“it’ll fell as if I’m not even home most of the time,” you blushed, feeling out of space in your own house, a squirming bunny underneath his attentive gaze, too warm and sharp to handle

“b’have as if i wasn’t even here, princess, just here to keep an eye on you if somethin’ happens.”

and oh, it felt so torturous, the forced proximity with the man of your dreams, the one out of your league, the only one you wanted. a real man, john was, so old and strong, buff and stern, giving you a sense of protection and control you longed for. you yearned for a sense of security and dominance that only john could give you. if you were the romance, he was the discipline.

dadsbf!john price was such a provider, a caregiver, he took care of everything in the house, made sure to turn on the stove for you when you wanted to make something, he didn’t let you touch any knives, made you breakfast in the morning, brought your fresh ice cream or strawberries when you were reading or studying in your room. but the tension between the two of you was tangible, it frizzled the air anytime you accidentally brushed your hands together or walked next each other — your father’s best friend, too much older than you, in his late 40s, and a sweet, little girl who was barely 21.

he tried so hard to be responsible, the be a military man, a seasoned captain who knew how to resist temptation. but you weren’t a temptation, because temptations could be bad — no, you were sugar, honey. sweet and tender at the touch, to taste, to feed off to. sweet for the soul and healthy for the body, as the bible would say.

but it was even harder for him, to restrain himself, knowing how much you wanted him, you looked at him with the most innocent eyes, batting your lashes at him like a lost puppy, a bunny that wanted to be picked up and cuddled, and thrown over his shoulder and taken care of by a rough, old man.

you always walked around the house in those tiny, mini skirts that hugged your ass, thigh highs that made him want to bite down on his fist, and that innocent bunny demeanor that made him loose his cool — bending over the kitchen counter when you made yourself some strawberry milk, giving him a perfect view of you bottom, or getting on your tip toes to reach for the highest shelves, softly calling him with a “sir? need your help please”

dadsbf!john price who had you sitting on his lap at night, on the couch, reading your lovely book, while he was watching tv, one of his usual movies about missions, shootings and undercover agents. you were all curled up against him, squirming and shifting position every once in a while — john was a patient man, but your cute butt kept pressing against his crotch when you moved, and he had to clench his jaw restrain himself from groaning.

“you uncomfortable, love?”

you only shook your head, lowering the book, revealing your flushed, red blushing face. “sorry sir, ‘s just a fuzzy feeling, it tickles” poor girl you didn’t know what was going on :( how to make this feeling in your belly stop.

“mmh? feel fuzzy, doll?”

and oh, he knew how to make you feel better. he gently grabbed both your hips with his large hands, positioning you between his spread legs, back pressed against his chest — you inhaled, your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough, calloused hands parting your legs, spreading them for him.

dadsbf!john price who talked you through it, teaching you about everything you didn’t know about yourself, you’d never tried. his thick fingers pressed lazy circles around your clothed clit, his thick beard pressed against your cheek as he spoke with a deep, rough voice.

“this right here…if i touch you here, it’ll feel very good doll. can touch slowly, lightly to let the sensation linger, play with it,”

your breath was ragged, you were nervous, felt exposed, only your oversized cute shirt covering you, those unfamiliar sensations making your head dizzy. you looked down, whimpering when his middle finger and index traced circles over your clit, against your panties, but he quickly reassured you when you mewled, cooing at you and using his free hand to lift your chin.

“shh, shh, eyes up, doll, i’ve got you, princess, look at me,”

you did. he wanted to introduce you to the feeling first, slowly teaching you how to get used to these things. he pressed a kiss on the corner of you mouth, and you whined against him.

“..and if daddy rubs harder, fast, you’ll feel warm inside, on your belly, like this, on your petal,”

“oh- oh gosh—“ you squirmed, biting your bottom lip, a sudden wave of pleasure shot through your legs when, and you involuntarily attempted to close them, but he quickly moved his hand to part them, spreading them wider.

“I know love, I know, feels good little one, easy, easy now, wan’ daddy to stop?”

“nu-uh, please” you could only shake your head, too shy and caught up in the sensation, your cheeks were as red and warm as bright flames and ripe strawberries, blushing fiercely — it felt so good, yet you were so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at him.

“that’s it, bunny, spread them for daddy, good girl, could spend all week like this until your pa’ comes back,” his rich, gruff chuckle vibrated against your back, and you felt your tummy coil at his words — with a twist of his wrist, his hand disappeared underneath your cotton panties, and you flinched on his lap, squirming when his bare fingers started caressing your clit.

dadsbf!john price who taught you how to kiss, pushing his tongue against yours, licking off your lipgloss, chuckling when you needed to breath, before devouring your mouth again, starving, hungry — your arms around his neck like your life depended on it.

dadsbf!john price who would tuck you to bed and hand you your favorite plushie before going to sleep in your father’s empty room,

“can sleep with you if you dont wanna be alone, sir”

“oh doll, as much as i’d love you to, don’t think either of us will get any sleep if you get in bed with me, and that can’t happen, love,”

dadsbf!john price who made sure to not smoke around you, especially inside the house. he’d get to the back patio or front porch to indulge in one of his strong scented, thick cigars. a soft angel like you can’t fill her lungs with such venom.

dadsbf!john price who grinned smugly whenever your dad called him to know how you were doing. he pressed his phone against his ear, hiding his cocky grin underneath his thick beard and mustache.

“doing fine, pal. reads her books, takes her dog out, studies, goes to church. usual things.”

he didn’t tell him how you were kneeling in front of him on the couch, your knees pressed against a plush pillow to not hurt your legs, doe eyes looking at him expectingly, waiting for him to end the call to teach you how to make him feel good with your mouth — his free hand rubbed against your warm cheek, playing with your long hair.

and when he ended the call, he bucked his hips, manspreading, giving you a look that could be both tender and intense, sharp and commanding.

“what did he say, sir?”

“nothing much, princess. misses you,”

you smiled at that. you had daddy issues, didn’t matter how much your dad truly loved you, and he did, he was just incapable of showing it. he didn’t know how to. always moody, serious, yelling at any given moment. you needed a real old man that could love you and treat you like the most delicate and precious girl. you wanted john to do it.

john loved seeing you smile, he couldn’t tell you that he’d made it up, added that last part about the call, just to see you smile, even though your dad hadn’t actually said that.

john was alone, practically married to his job, literally, with much more experience with women you could ever imagine — until God pitied him and decided to send him a little expiatory angel, you.

“aight’, doll, wan’ daddy to show you how to take him with your mouth like a good girl?”

you nodded, hesitantly. your shyness and timidity always had the best of you. but he wanted to take his time with you, protect your sweet purity.

“use your words, love. speak up for daddy, come on”

you blushed and fidgeted with your hands, batting your lashes at him “yes sir,”

“good girl, angel. buttons.” single, short words, speaking with military authority.

you opened his pants with shaky hands, nervously. but he firmly cupped your chin, tilting your jaw up.

“no need to be scared, love, look at you…nervous, are you sweet?” he cooed condescendingly at you, making your bite your lip and nod, puppy eyes big and round.

“just open your mouth and be still. daddy’s gonna help you, if it gets too much for ya, tap my knee. copy that, bunny?”

“yes daddy, mkay” you gave him a little nod, almost shivering at the way his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

“show daddy your tongue, that’s it. here it is, fuck, gonna be rough with ya, angel, could eat you up, love. good doll, now, zipper down.”

hi angel!! dbf!price when a silly little boy comes to take us out for a date? would love to see it xx

dadsbf!john price doesn’t behave like he somehow owns the place, but he definitely behaves like he owns you, his best friend’s too young and sweet daughter. a raised brow and a questioning look are shot towards the main door when he hears someone knocking, piercing through the poor wooden door like one of his sharp rifles.

your sweet voice chirps from upstairs, yelling a “please get the door!” poor thing you’re still putting your shoes on, spraying perfume and wishing you were going on a date with john instead, your father’s too old best friend. so he stands up, lazily walks towards the door, like a mountain brown bear that strolls with outmost confidence of his surrounding,

his expression completely shifts, darkens even, when he opens the door to find a young, plain college boy at the front. he doesnt like him straight away. he looks too full of himself, too boring, too useless.

he narrows both of his brows now, frowning down at that frat kid, and though he was definitely too old and mature to be glaring down at a kid, he appeared very skeptical and menacing.

“wrong house,” he says it with a fake, almost sardonic smile, unapologetically. he shifts his position, crossing his arms and laying against the doorframe, expecting him to disappear right away. he looks scary, intimidating, with his huge, buff body and thick, dark facial hair. exuding confidence and outmost control.

the poor guy can only look up at him with a confused expression, trying to glance past those board shoulders that were blocking his view. “she gave me this address though,”

no manners, no greetings — john only chuckles, his mustache twitching, barely able to contain a wolfish grin. this guys definitely doesn’t have a chance with you. he’s tempted to tell him that you’re not even here. “not interested, kid.”

but the light tapping of your pink converse echoed behind his back, signaling you were walking down the stairs, quickly, like a jumping little rabbit, until you stopped to stand right next to him. “hi, sorry for making you wait,” you smile at the guy, a sweet and gentle smile, yet not taking enough space on your cheeks. john has seen you smile brighter, everyday you smiled like the sun itself. but now, it appears more polite that anything.

the guy only shrugs, giving you a charming smile that’s doesn’t make you blush. “it’s alright, your dad opened the door,”

at that, john’s jaw clenches, tilting his head in a not amused manner. his hand tickles with the need of punching his face, but he has to remain composed, as a soldier, as a captain, he’s used to facing the most difficult and challenging situations with calmness and composure.

“he’s not my dad,” you quickly reply, sensing john’s body growing stiffer — you smile again, turning towards john, glossed lips and strawberry perfume, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. your big eyes practically silently telling him how that guy was only a substitute for a date you couldn’t have with him. “see you later then, sir?”

“where are you going, doll?” not even acknowledging the guy in front of you, he takes a moment to admire your outfit, warm eyes tracing every inch of you.

“he just, wants to take me to the new ice cream place that has recently opened..”

now he glances at the guy, clearly unimpressed, suspicious and definitely not happy “does your dad know?” his voice sounds rougher than usual, deep and sharp. gruffness slipping from every word.

“yes, sir, it’s just ice cream” you reassure him, though your cheeks are already growing red, warm and flushed at his questions. why doesn’t he take you out then, since he doesn’t like the idea of you going out with a guy?

“i’ll get the car,” the latter says, casually humming and walking down the front porch, jingling his keys as he strolls towards a typical car college parking lots are filled with.

you mentally sigh, trying to remain optimistic about this date. you can’t help by feel nervous, your cheeks are a bright, flaming red and you’re gripping the strap of your purse tighter, somehow embarrassed about john seeing you going out on a date.

“uhm, w-well then i-“ but before you can open your mouth to say anything else, you feel your hand being taken and lifted towards john’s lips, who’s pressing a formal kiss on your palm. your heart flutters, like it always does whenever he kisses your hand, an habit he’s grown accustomed to since meeting you for the first time.

“be careful, doll, call old john if you need anything, or if you wanna get rid of him, ‘aight little one?” he grins against your hand, knowing well that if he can’t jeopardize your little date, he can make sure you’ll be thinking about him the entire time. he knows you need a real man, you need him.

he might not be able to indulge into you like he wants to, but you’re still his little girl nonetheless. he’s never been generous with his possessions, and since the first shy smile, you’ve belonged to him.