#dilf bob floyd

[ereardon]

She Calls Him Daddy [Bob Floyd x Reader]

DILF Bob Floyd

Summary: Coming home from college for winter break, the last thing you expected was to run into your best friend’s father while out shopping for new lingerie to surprise your fuck buddy with. You had always tried to hide your attraction for Mr. Floyd because he was Anna’s father. But all rules are thrown out when Bob invites you over on Christmas Eve while Anna is at her mother’s house. You’ll never be able to look at your friend’s dad the same way ever again.

Pairing: DILF Bob Floyd x Reader 

Warnings: Just pure filth and smut, cursing, age difference, power imbalance 

WC: 6K

Your fingers brushed along the array of pastel lace before you paused, reaching out and selecting a hanger. 

It was perfect. Silky black straps with delicate lace bra cups that led to a sheer lace middle cut high on the hips in a thong. You smiled. Jonah was going to lose his goddamn mind when he saw you in this. 

You turned, instantly colliding with a person who had been right behind you, their back to you, your skimpy bodysuit flying to the floor as you began to fall. But the person you had crashed into reached down instantly, catching you before you absolutely ate shit in the middle of the store floor. 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed as the man’s hands caught your waist, hauling you to standing. “Thank you!” 

A gasp left your mouth as you looked up. 

“Mr. Floyd.” 

“Y/N.” His voice was deep, sultry. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. He leaned down and retrieved the discarded hanger and black lingerie from the floor. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up and examined it. 

“I’m, uh, buying it for a friend,” you lied. 

Bob Floyd’s blue eyes met yours. His tone was patient, his mouth in a hard line. “Is that so?” he asked. “Not Anna I hope.” 

“No, of course not.” At the mention of Anna, your best friend and Bob Floyd’s daughter, you wanted to crumple into a million pieces. You could never tell her that her father had caught you buying lingerie or that you had literally fallen into his arms like a damsel in distress. 

Even if it made you ache between your legs. Even if a part of you had been crushing on Mr. Floyd since you were sixteen. 

You couldn’t even admit it to yourself that sometimes, when you slept with Jonah, your college fuck buddy, you pictured Bob Floyd’s face when you closed your eyes. Same when you had your vibrator pressed tightly against your clit beneath the covers in the privacy of your dorm single. It was Bob Floyd’s face looming in your mind as you let yourself break apart. 

Bob gripped the hanger tightly. He looked at the bodysuit and then at you. You felt like you could melt from the intensity of his gaze, even if it only lasted a second. “That would look good on you,” he said, voice low and you felt your heart beating erratically in your chest. “But this would look better.” He reached out and pulled a bra and panty set from the next rack over. It was a white bra with sheer demi cups and a matching high-waisted thong with a thick waistband and tiny pearls dotting the band. Clipped onto the hanger was a lace trimmed garter. 

Words escaped you. Your jaw was practically hanging on the ground. 

Bob stepped closer. Somehow, it was just the two of you in the entire store. You realized you never asked why he was in a lingerie and pajama shop, so close to Christmas. Bob leaned one muscular arm against the wall to his left. “Y/N. Do you have a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head. 

His eyes flitted to the black one piece that you had discarded on the rack. “So why are you buying something like that?” he asked. It was almost condescending, the way he said it. “To impress someone?” Bob added after a moment. 

You nodded. “Maybe.” 

Bob frowned. “I don’t like it.” Yes, he had made that very clear. Now for the rest of your life you would avoid black lingerie like the plague simply because you knew Bob Floyd didn’t like it. 

You wanted to please him. It was sickening how badly you wanted his approval. Perhaps because your own father couldn’t care less where you ran off to on any given day and Bob cared deeply where Anna was at all times. He was a good father. A better father than yours. 

Or perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. Like he was trying to memorize you so he could chisel you from marble later. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

Bob reached out, brushing your chin with his rough fingertips. You shuddered, need pulsating in your body like a pinball machine. “Don’t be,” he murmured gruffly. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting all dressed up for some boy who doesn’t know how to please you.” 

You couldn’t believe that Bob Floyd of all people was looking at you like this. Like he wanted to rip off your clothes. You thought he saw you as a daughter. As just one of Anna’s little friends. He and his wife had gotten divorced nearly ten years ago. You had long known Bob Floyd as simply Anna’s dad. All of the single mothers at your school went crazy for him, but he didn’t give them a second glance. His focus was on Anna and getting her into a good college. But she had done that. She was at Brown. She was happy. 

So what was he doing now? 

Apparently, he was cornering you in an upscale lingerie boutique two days before Christmas. And the worst part was, you didn’t hate it. You didn’t hate it at all. 

“Y/N,” Bob said. “Wait outside. And here, wear this.” He shrugged off his wool coat, draping it over your shoulders. You drowned in it. He was far taller and larger than you and you felt like a little girl wearing her father’s clothing. “I’ll meet you in a minute.” 

You did as you were told, stepping out of the store and waiting, impatiently, until Bob returned a few minutes later with two store bags in his hands. 

He handed you one and you looked up with shock. “Here.” 

“I, um, I can’t.” 

Bob slid his hands into his pockets. “Then return it if you want,” he replied. “Or you can come over tomorrow night and I can show you what those boys at Yale never could.” 

Your mouth hung open. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? 

Bob smiled, for the first time during your interaction. “Tomorrow, eight o’clock.” And then he was gone, leaving you standing under the striped awning wearing his heavy coat as he disappeared into the snow. 

***

“Isn’t Anna at her mother’s house for Christmas?” 

You shook your head, turning down the hall. “No, she was there for Thanksgiving.” 

“That’s right,” your mom replied, rubbing her hands together mindlessly as she followed behind you. “Are you sure you want to spend Christmas Eve at her dad’s house? What about our annual pie bake off?” 

You sighed, leaning one arm on the wooden door frame to your room. “Mom, please. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise. I never get to see her anymore.” 

“I know sweetheart.” She put her hand on your cheek softly. “Well, have fun and be safe.” 

She closed the door and you rushed over to your closet, sliding it open and pulling out the bag from the lingerie store. With bated breath, you pulled out the neatly wrapped bundle, breaking the cloth tape seal on the tissue paper. 

Inside, just as you had expected, was the white set that Bob Floyd had recommended. Bra, panties, matching garter and thigh highs. 

There was also a small white card. You flipped it open. 

Merry Christmas, Y/N. 

-BF 

You couldn’t help but be disappointed. You thought there would be something else. The invitation was to spend the night, wasn’t it? Or had you somehow misinterpreted what he said? 

But the lingerie sitting perfectly in the box was a different story. That was the nail in the coffin. 

Quickly, you got dressed, zipping your duffle bag shut and bidding goodnight to your parents, promising to text them once you got to Anna’s. 

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked. 

The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash? 

You parked the car and leaned back. You were really doing this. You had been thinking about Bob Floyd ever since you were a teenager. Now, you were nineteen. You had slept with other guys. You knew exactly what you were doing. 

Which is how you found yourself with an overnight bag in one hand, knocking on the all-too-familiar wooden front door as snow fell softly around you in clumps. 

The heavy door swung open. Bob Floyd stood wearing a blue cable knit sweater and a pair of ironed trousers, wool socks, his hair combed back neatly, his wire glasses square on his nose. He smiled. Behind him, the house was warm. It practically glowed. “Y/N,” he said softly. 

“Mr. Floyd.” 

“Come in,” he said. It was a demand. He grabbed the overnight bag from your hand seamlessly, leading you through the door, one hand on your back as he guided you into the hallway that opened up to the large living room in the back of the house. “I’ll take your coat.” 

You shrugged out of the Italian wool overcoat and handed it to him, standing in a pair of ivory knee-high boots and a white turtleneck dress that clung tightly to your curves. Bob’s gaze rolled over you slowly. 

“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?” 

“What do you have?” 

Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.” 

You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast. 

He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling. 

Bob poured himself a drink and then leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched out over the back. 

“You think I didn’t watch you and Anna closely?” he added as you took a sip. It fizzed on your tongue and in your throat. “I’m her father, Y/N. It’s my duty to protect her. And you.” 

Protect. The word rang in your head on repeat. Your eyes flicked down to Bob’s hands. So strong and lean, with veins running on the back of his hands toward his sweater-covered arms. You squirmed unintentionally on the couch. 

Bob’s blue eyes were locked on yours. But instead of looking away, you let him in. God, he was beautiful. Jonah and all the other guys you had slept with had nothing compared to Bob Floyd. The small crinkle of skin next to his eyes was the only thing that betrayed his age. He was practically flawless. You weren’t the first person to notice how drop dead gorgeous Bob Floyd was. There were whispers behind Anna’s back. But Bob Floyd didn’t date. And besides, you were twenty years younger than him. What could he possibly want with you? 

“Mr. Floyd,” you said and Bob smirked. 

“Y/N,” he said, deep voice punctuating the air. “You can call me Bob.” 

You shook your head. “It sounds wrong.” 

He reached out a hand, nudging his thumb beneath your chin. “Does it feel wrong?” 

“No.” 

“Good girl.” 

You practically whimpered. Bob’s azure eyes never left yours as he dropped his hand and rubbed his palm over his thigh in his khakis. 

“Did you like my gift?”

You nodded. 

“Are you wearing it now?” 

Another nod. Bob’s eyes grew wider, darker. He shifted in his seat, setting his champagne glass down on the fancy wooden coffee table. 

You crossed your legs, noting that Bob’s gaze followed you as you slowly lifted up one leg, crossing it over the other, adjusting yourself on the sofa a few inches closer to him. 

Bob stood up, running one hand through his hair. He spun around. 

“I can drive you home,” he said, “if you’d like. It’s snowing and it’s late. I realize now I didn’t ask if you wanted to come here.” He shook his head. “If you’re uncomfortable, we just pretend this never happened. You’re still Anna’s best friend, I’m still her father.” 

You stood up, smoothing your dress with your hands and stepping closer. Hesitantly, you reached out, placing one hand on his chest. “I wanted to come.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “You do know you’re the hot dad that every girl in our grade had a crush on, right?” You rolled your eyes. “Anna hated it.” 

Bob smirked, one hand coming up and toying with your fingertips pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater. His fingers circled your wrist, tight, and you gasped. “Is that right?” he asked, voice husky. 

“Mmhm.” 

“What about you?” His fingers slipped past your wrist, up the sleeve of your dress, dancing lightly along the thin skin of your forearm. “Do you think of me?” 

“Yes.” It was the truth. You flushed. 

“When do you think of me, darlin?” he rasped. Bob shifted closer so you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“When I'm alone,” you admitted softly. “When I touch myself.” 

His fingers slid out from beneath your sleeve and you thought for a brief moment that he was going to turn you away, send you off on your merry way out into the snow with bruised pride and unseen lingerie. 

But instead, Bob mumbled something underneath his breath before his eyes were piercing yours again, his hands finding their way to either side of your neck, tilting your head up toward him.

“Darlin’,” he groaned. “Trying to kill me?” 

“Well you are old,” you murmured, "wouldn't be too difficult." He chuckled. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “If you want to stop, we stop.” 

You nodded, heart pounding wildly in your chest as Bob Floyd leaned down, sliding his mouth against yours, his fingers curling around your neck. You placed your hands on his arms, melting into the kiss. 

Kissing Bob was like unlocking an entirely new facet of sex. His lips were soft, practically caressing yours, and his fingers pressed just deep enough into your neck and the base of your head as his tongue swirled in your mouth. 

To your surprise, Bob groaned, stepping in closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you against the wall as he towered over you, across you, every inch of your body on fire. 

Bob pulled back, eyes wide, his lower half still pressed against yours, his face and shoulders leaning back a few inches. “Y/N? Do you want this?” 

“Yes, Mr. Floyd.” 

“Then take off your dress and get on your knees.” 

Bob stepped back as you carefully lifted the hem of your white dress, pulling it up and over your head, dropping it on the ground and crossing your arms over your chest sheepishly. 

He shook his head, reaching out and prying your arms off of your chest, exposing your breasts in the whisper of white mesh and lace, the dainty sheer g-string, the sheer thigh highs that you had worn to please him. “Fuck,” he murmurred, letting your arms go and trailing one fingertip over your right breast, circling the hardened nipple. You whimpered, aching for him. “God, you’re beautiful.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they snapped open and Bob’s hand was drawn back. You sank to the floor, wetness already pooling in your panties. 

“Go ahead,” Bob said, his voice almost gritty it was so hoarse. Your hands reached up for his belt, undoing the clasp clumsily before pressing ahead the button of his pants, unlooping it. Your eyes widened as your fingers wrapped around the metal zipper, tugging it down over his hard bulge. Bob groaned as your fingers drew over his cock, even through his boxers, and you tugged the waistband of his khakis down, kneeling back slightly. “You ready for my cock, darlin’?” 

You nodded, skimming your fingers under the band of his boxer briefs, tugging them down as Bob’s hard cock sprang to attention. You audibly gasped and above you, Bob smirked. He was thick and impossibly long, angry red head seemingly staring at you, taunting you. 

Immediately, you reached out and licked the tip with your tongue, swirling it around his leaking tip, your eyes locked on Bob’s. His hands stayed at his side like a mummy, but his blue eyes bore into yours. 

You opened your mouth wider, pressing your thighs together as you leaned in, one hand on the base of his shaft while you pushed his cock into your mouth and throat, gagging around his length as his tip bashed against the back of your throat. Your eyes started to water but you kept your eyes on Bob, pulling back and gasping before taking him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking on him harshly. 

“Fuck!” he grunted as you gagged around him, your fingers tight on the base of his cock. He reached out, threading his fingers into your hair carefully, pulling you back, wiping the frothy saliva from your lips as you kneeled at his feet, chest heaving. “You like that?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Floyd.” 

His eyes darkened. “Open,” he commanded and you opened your mouth as Bob fisted himself, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth and throat, fingers holding the back of your head in a gentle cradle. “Now put that pretty little mouth to good use,” he whispered, “and make me cum down your throat.” 

Bob watched as you placed your hands on his hips, steadying yourself, using your head and neck to bob back and forth on his cock, sucking his length repeatedly. 

Your right hand slid around the base of his cock, jerking the parts of him that wouldn’t fit into your mouth as you groaned, the vibrations sending Bob into the stratosphere. As you became more comfortable, you reached down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tightly before letting go as Bob panted above you. 

Bob’s hand cradled your head and you opened wider as you felt him taking control, snapping his hips forward, thrusting his cock deep into your throat, causing you to sputter around him. “You can take it,” he murmured, pulling out a few inches before filling your mouth and throat again. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. Now make me cum.” 

You nodded, eyes watery, and Bob groaned, one of his hands bracing himself against the wall, the other preventing your head from hitting the wooden paneling as he drove his cock into your throat, letting out a string of curse words as you felt him stutter above you, his hot cum filling your throat and mouth, spilling out of the corners of your lips, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. 

Bob collapsed forward, resting his forehead on his arm, pushing his cock deeper into you one last time before pulling out as you swallowed his salty spend. He leaned back, panting, and swiped one thumb over your lips. “Come here.” 

You stood, slightly wobbly, and inhaled sharply as Bob spun you around, placing his hands over yours against the wall. There was the sound of him pulling his pants back on, clicking the buckle, before his hands were back on your waist, thick fingers slipping into the lacy garter band, one hand traveling up and cupping your breast as he pressed against you from behind, his breath warm in your ear. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

Your eyes were closed. All that you could feel were Bob’s hands exploring your body. “You.” It was a whisper. 

Bob spun you around until your back was against the wall and your eyes popped open. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on you, his fingers wrapping around your waist. 

The next minute you were in Bob’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips still on yours as he carried you through the living room, down the hall toward the master bedroom. 

You had been in Bob Floyd’s bedroom once before. 

A few years back, Anna had invited you over for a sleepover when Bob was away for a work trip. Her mother was also busy, which led the two of you to stay in the house alone. Anna had suggested sleeping in Bob’s room because it had a large TV mounted over the fireplace. 

But after the movie marathon and once Anna fell asleep, you snuck off to the bathroom, opening a bottle of Bob’s cologne, inhaling his scent, wondering what it would be like to smell him up close. 

As he laid you down on the king bed, you caught a whiff of that familiar cologne. Duc De Vervins Houbigant. You could clearly picture the sheer green and gold bottle. You had never thought you'd get this close to him.

Bob laid you down carefully. You sat up on your elbows, looking at him as he stood at the edge of the bed. Gently, Bob placed one hand on each of your knees, spreading your legs apart, his hands smoothing over the lace of your thigh highs, up to the garter straps which he snapped against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to your exposed stomach, kissing the skin. You felt anticipation and desire pooling between your legs as Bob’s fingers dug into your hips. 

“Please,” you begged and Bob lifted his head. 

“Please what?” 

You wanted to blush or feel embarrassment, but you couldn’t. Not with the way that Bob was looking at you. Like you were the only person he had eyes for. “Please fuck me Mr. Floyd.” 

He practically growled. Bob leaned back, standing up straight and lifting off his sweater to reveal a pair of perfect abs. He looked better than any boy you had ever fucked, even at forty, and you found your mouth watering as he removed his pants, cock hard again. Bob kicked away the discarded clothes, crawling onto the bed, hovering over you before bending over, ripping the lace of your bra down to expose your nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly as you writhed beneath him. 

“Oh!” 

He licked the bud, nipping at it gently, as your hips jumped up uncontrollably, a throaty moan falling out of your mouth. Bob popped off of your nipple with a smirk, reaching beneath you and unclasping the bra, tearing it off and tossing it on the ground. His large hands massaged your bare breasts before one hand trailed down, brushing over the lace garter, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. 

Bob’s thick finger slid over your slick folds and you cried out as he nudged your clit before sinking down, teasing at your opening. 

He pushed his finger into your cunt as you whimpered beneath him, the only sounds in the room were your pants and the loud smack of Bob’s knuckle hitting your opening as your juices dripped down to his wrist, your walls gripping his finger tightly. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, adding a second finger, stretching you wide as you twitched below him, pressing up against the heel of his hand, desperate for more contact. “Shh,” he whispered condescendingly. “You’ll cum when I want you to.” 

You let out a groan, flopping back on the bed, letting Bob finger fuck you, hard, until you could feel yourself building to an orgasm. 

And then he pulled out as you gasped, raising his fingers to his lips, sucking them dry before reaching down and tearing the panties at the side, flinging them off the bed. 

Bob looked down at you. His gaze was so intense your first instinct was to look away. But instead you skimmed your fingers over his bicep where he had one arm outstretched near your head. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, groaning as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your wet core brushing against his erection. 

“Darlin’,” he murmured. “You’ve never been fucked properly a day in your life, have you?” 

You shook your head. 

Bob reached over for a condom, tearing it open and rolling it over himself seamlessly. He dropped down to his forearm, face close to yours, other hand stroking your hip gently before maneuvering his cock until the tip was pressing against your entrance. “You want to stop, we stop,” he said softly. You nodded and Bob sank into your wet pussy, filling every inch of you as you whimpered, burying your face in his chest, small grunts as he pressed further inside, holding behind your knee, sinking into you. 

Once he was fully sat inside of you, Bob moaned. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered, brushing the hair back from your face, fingers resting on your cheeks, thumb pushing away the small tears that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “You’re so fucking tight.” You whined as he pulled back an inch, thrusting back into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he plunged into your wet, welcoming cunt, a low string of curses on his tongue as he felt you stretch around him, your hands on his biceps, grounding yourself to him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, “fucking take this cock.” 

“Bob!” You screamed as he leaned back on his knees, scooping up beneath you and pulling your chest in toward him until you were straddling him on the bed, Bob holding you steady as he fucked into you, your bare breasts slapping against his chest. 

He grunted. “Fuck, yes, God you feel so fucking good.” 

You wound your arms around Bob’s neck, your eyes on his as he held you close, his cock brushing that small spongy part inside of you that made you start wailing in pleasure. “Yes, yes!” 

“Don’t cum,” he growled and your eyes filled with tears as he slowed down, pulling you off of him. 

“What?” 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he demanded and you turned over, scooting your ass back toward him, practically screaming as he filled you again in one thrust, his hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. “Good girl,” Bob said as you tipped your head down, feeling his sticky thighs press against the back of your own legs, his balls smacking your puffy, aching pussy lips. 

“Please,” you begged, snaking one arm down, your fingers finding your sopping wet clit. 

Bob grabbed your arm, pinning it to your stomach, pulling you up until your back was pressed against his chest, his arm tight against your chest, fingers gripping your left breast tightly. “You need to learn, Y/N,” he said, smoothing his other hand down between your legs as he continued to thrust into you from behind, “that a real man makes his woman beg, but he doesn't make her work for her orgasm. Now spread your legs for me, baby.” 

You tipped your head back as Bob’s fingers brushed over where you craved them the most, instantly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud. “Fuck, oh my god, oh holy shit, yes please.” 

Bob’s voice was throaty in your ear, his lips hot against the skin of your neck. “Cum all over my cock, baby. Fucking soak me.” 

And then you were screaming, hot desire pooling in your stomach, bursting, your breath stalling as your breath caught in your throat and Bob pumped himself into you as your legs shook. 

You started to fall forward but he caught you with both arms as you rode out your high on his cock, your body trembling with the aftershocks. 

Bob loosened his grip on you, laying you down gently before rolling you over again, this time never letting his cock fall from between your legs as he repositioned the two of you so he was hovering above you, cock plunging into your exhausted cunt. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurred, head dipped down, kissing your neck as you whined. “Can you cum for me again, baby? Milk my cock.” 

You were spent. But then Bob lifted his head, his gaze locked on yours, and his lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his free hand coming back between your bodies, thumb pressing gently over your clit as you whimpered into his mouth. 

“That’s it,” Bob said, “right there darlin’. Want to watch you while I fucking fill you.” 

He thrusted into you, hard, as his thumb slid over your clit and you found yourself shaking around him once again, crying out as Bob groaned loudly, hips stuttering, filling the condom with his hot cum as your walls massaged him, clinging to him tightly, your fingertips sliding down his sweaty and toned back, pulling him closely. Your leg was hooked around his waist and he collapsed onto you, face buried in your neck, his cock slowly softening inside of you as your heartbeat continued to rage on. 

After a few seconds, Bob leaned up, pulling out of you slowly. You winced as he removed his cock, feeling empty and sore as he discarded the condom. 

Bob laid back on the bed and instinctively you rolled into his side, slinging one leg over his thigh, head resting between his shoulder and arm. His fingertips stroked your side. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Was that good for you?” you asked quietly. 

Bob chuckled, and your head bounced around at the movement. “Yes, honey, it was good. It was better than good. You’re so fucking sexy.” He smoothed one hand over your waist. “I want to fuck you everywhere, every way that I can, until you can’t remember what it was like to fuck anyone else.” 

You smiled. “Trust me, I’m not going to forget this.” 

Bob grinned, sliding out of bed carefully. You frowned but he held out one hand. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.” 

In the bathroom, Bob turned on the enormous two-person shower as you unclipped your thigh highs and garter, stepping into the marble shower, Bob joining you a second later, shutting the door. You stood under the hot water, letting it smooth over your skin and hair before turning to him. Bob looked at you with such an intensity you thought you might melt. 

“Y/N,” he grumbled. You cocked your head to the side. “Sit down.” Bob pointed to the marble built-in seat on one side of the shower. You sat down with a frown. But then Bob sank to his knees, nudging open your legs, and you grinned. “I can’t stand it. I have to taste you.” 

You leaned back with a loud moan as Bob’s sharp tongue flicked over your folds, finding your clit, circling the puffy, exhausted nerve as his large hands held your knees apart. “Mr. Floyd,” you begged and Bob looked up, eyes dark. 

“Yes, darlin’?” 

“You gonna make me cum again?” 

Bob smirked. “As many times as I can, until you can’t even stand anymore.” 

And then he was back between your legs, one finger in your cunt as his tongue flicked in circles over your clit while you leaned back, crying out when the heat started to pool in your stomach, threatening to break. “Mr. Floyd!” you screamed as you came all over his face, his lips and chin dripping with your cum when he pulled back, your thighs shaking. 

Bob pulled you to standing, spinning you around until your hands were on the cool marble wall of the shower as he nudged your legs apart, rubbing his hard, massive cock against your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp slap as you gasped. “Are you clean?” he asked. 

You nodded. “And I have an IUD.” 

“Good.” Bob reached down, sinking into you in two quick thrusts, stuffing you impossibly deep as you groaned. “I’m going to fill you up, make you mine.” And then the two of you were gasping, panting, moaning as he fucked you from behind, your bare breasts pressing against the cool marble, Bob’s grunts loud in your ear as he lost himself inside of you. “Fucking perfect pussy,” he whispered, “so fucking tight, how does it feel to be fucked by a man, hmm princess? Could a boy ever make you feel like this?” 

“Only you,” you whimpered, one cheek squished against the shower wall as Bob railed you from behind. 

“Say it again.”

“Only your cock, Mr. Floyd!” 

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, fingertips gripping your hips so hard you knew they’d leave bruises but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the unbelievable pleasure of having Bob Floyd fuck you senseless. “Where do you want me to cum?” 

“Cum in me,” you begged. “Please?” 

“Fuck.” Bob’s hips lifted and he cried out, spilling his warm cum inside of you, painting your walls, thrusting a few more times sloppily as your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop from his hard cock on his way down.

After the shower, Bob gave you a towel and you wrapped yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He appeared in the doorway in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, towel drying his hair. 

“Did you bring pajamas?” he asked. 

You cringed. You had brought everything else: makeup, makeup remover wipes, an extra pair of shoes, clothes for the next day. But you had forgotten pajamas. You shook your head. 

Bob nodded, stepping toward a wooden chest of drawers and pulling out a long sleeved henley, handing it to you, along with a pair of boxers. You pulled them on as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you hungry?” 

You were starving. In the kitchen, Bob pulled out the makings for a grilled cheese and you sat on the counter, legs swinging against the lower cabinets, watching him prepare the sandwiches. How many times had you done the exact same thing as Anna raced around, making the two of you an afternoon snack? 

Bob flipped the sandwiches in the pan and then turned to you. “What are you thinking?” 

“You’re not going to tell Anna, right?” 

He shook his head. “Of course not.” 

“Because it doesn’t mean anything?” 

Bob’s gaze hardened. “Is that what you think?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what you wanted? Just sex. Just tonight.” 

Bob lifted the sandwiches onto plates and turned off the burner. He stepped closer, placing his large hands on your knees. You thought back to twenty minutes ago when he had done the same thing in the shower and despite the fact that you had three orgasms under your belt for the night, excitement and lust started to creep into your bloodstream again. “Y/N,” he said, voice low and slow and it made your body ripple with excitement just hearing your name on his lips. “You mean something. You’re not just some random woman. I care about you.” 

Your heart lifted. 

Bob’s fingers pressed tightly against your skin before lifting off. He handed you a plate. “Now eat your sandwich, please. So I can take you to bed and fuck you again.” 

You bit into the sandwich and groaned. It was good. Almost as good as the feeling of being fucked by Bob Floyd. 

Bob stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, casually leaning up against the counter, eating his sandwich, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You finished your grilled cheese, rinsed off the plate and washed your hands. Bob did the same and you smirked at him. “Mr. Floyd?” 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“Can I suck your cock again?” 

Bob smiled. “Still hungry, huh?” he asked. “Go on then, get on your knees, sweetheart. Make daddy cum.” 

Tag list (also reusing my list from Friend Don't aka my general Bob list so if you don't want to be tagged in Bob fics going forward just let me know!): @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @teacupsandtopgun @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @marvelshauntedhouse @that1nerd-20

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @shanimallina87

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @storysimp @emma8895eb  @briseisgone @katiedid-3 @beacheybabes97 @mandylove1000

[rosedurin]

I NEED BOB FLOYD STUFF PLEASE😭😭 I FEEL LIKE IVE UNCOVERED ALMOST EVERY FIC I CAN FIND AND IM GOING THROUGH WITHDRAW

[ereardon]

You might like my frat Bob smutty one shot!!

I’m also working on a DILF Bob one shot that’s going to be … 🥵

The dashboard is severely lacking a certain… je ne sais quoi… Bob Floyd smut, yeah.

Please send me Bob smut recs to further the Bob Fucks agenda

[callsign-birdie]

After Bob came back to your shared apartment being back from deployment; he was surprised to find that you brought in a stray. He can't even be annoyed seeing you with the gray tabby. Soon after that y'all took in two more. You've got yourselves a little family.

[nnatuhlyyy]

do yall just ever

[ereardon]

Wait, Helena, I'm SCREAMING!!!

Thank you for the rec I feel so honored!! And thank you for always raving about DILF Bob with me ... he truly is the hottest thing on this planet to me. This was definitely a heat of the moment fic idea for me but I am so glad that I wrote it and I always have follow ups swimming around in my head so we may get a DILF Bob part 2 sometime soonish ...

FIC REC FRIDAY | september 22nd 2023

she calls him daddy – @ereardon ↳ bob floyd x reader

WHY I LOVE IT

When Em first teased this fic, I damn near lost my mind. Nothing could have prepared me for how much I would love it, and reading it altered my brain chemistry. Em is a master at creating atmosphere, adding details and descriptions that paint a vivid picture. She sets up the characters, the dynamic, and the situation just enough to keep readers grounded in reality for when the fantasy takes over. Dilf!Bob is one sexy motherfucker, and if I had to tell you all the reasons I love him, we’d be here all day. Packed into this fic are all the tropes and kinks that melt my brain: praise, orgasm control, possessiveness, forbidden relationship, and an age gap. Another aspect that I enjoyed was the dirty talk. It’s not the most explicit I’ve ever read, but I think it speaks to Bob’s age in this fic. He’s older and more sophisticated, but he still has a mouth on him, and what a mouth it is. The true standout moments in this fic, however, is the communication. Sure, it’s absolutely filthy smut that made so hot and bothered I couldn’t think straight, but Bob and Reader communicate. There’s consent, and check-ins throughout to make sure consent is still enthusiastically given, along with talks of safe sex, including the use of protection and birth control. It doesn’t feel awkward or misplaced, but like a natural part of the story, as it always should be. Consent is sexy. Using protection is sexy. Interwoven with the smut are moments of reality, of normalcy that could take the reader out of the story, but never do because that’s how skillful of a writer Em is. This fic made me crave Dilf!Bob and made me yearn for him to buy me lingerie and do unholy things to me. It’s a fic I keep coming back to, and it gets better with every read.

TOP 3 REASONS YOU SHOULD READ IT TOO

➛ Dilf!Bob. That's it. That's the reason.

➛ Some of the best smut you will ever read. It's not just once, but multiple times and in different ways. It's filthy and glorious.

➛ If you have a daddy kink and a praise kink, this one's for you. As a former gifted kid, it made me absolutely feral, especially coming from an older man.

A NOTE ON THE PROCESS

fics are assigned a number. i then use a random generator and recommend you the fic corresponding to the number the tool picks. all recs are my personal favorites. if there's an author whose work you think i should check out, please reach out.

JOIN THE TAGLIST (form–no personal info required)

REBLOG TO SPREAD THE WORD AND SUPPORT THE WRITER

TAGLIST: @joaquinwhorres, @blue-aconite, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @anniesocsandgeneralstore, @desert-fern, @callsign-magnolia, @callsignspark, @bradshawsbitch, @scarlettwidow19, @sebsxphia, @seresinsweetie, @roosterforme, @sweetwhispersofchaos, @ereardon, @yanna-banana, @laracrofted, @horseshoegirl, @teacupsandtopgun, @thedroneranger, @cherrycola27, @bradshawsweetheart, @notroosterbradshaw, @lewmagoo, @sometimesanalice, @broketraveler87, @withahappyrefrain, @seresinhangmanjake, @keyrani, @fanficfandomlove, @bobgasm, @nenelysian

[hangmanapologist]

Now I’m not saying Bob reading bedtime stories to his mini him while he’s on deployment but I’m implying it

[prongsflower]

this is a video of a baby seeing her father without his beard for the first time

watch the video and tell me this isn’t bradley bradshaw’s baby seeing him without his mustache for the first time!!!

someone pls write something based on this 😭😭

video credit: @/karina_valim on tiktok

[iloveprettyboysblog]

Lewis James Pullman: The Man that You Are Deserves to be celebrated today and every day. 💙 💙💙

[ereardon]

Reviving my Christmas DILF Bob Floyd fic 😅💀

[topguncortez]

DILF bob

DiLF Bob is a man of short words and glances. With just one look at you, you know exactly what he wants you to do. You could be in a room full of people and he gives you that look, and you go to the closest bathroom to slip your panties off and then go place them in his suit pocket.

He is a teasing motherfucker. No one expects quiet little Bobby Floyd to do anything wrong or dirty, but you know that is not the damn truth what so ever. He is constantly teasing you, making you wear a vibrator to dinner because you both know that you wouldn't do anything to embarrass him or make people think he is anything other than a shy WSO. so you sit there next to him nearly in tears, almost bitting straight through your lip, your nails digging into the palms of your hands surely leaving behind crescent moon marks, as you are trying not to cum.

and he has the audacity to lean over and be like

"what's wrong, sweetheart? you look like you need a release. don't worry, I got you." and he turns the vibrator off for like the tenth time.

[theshortstack]

He gives the type of dad energy that reminds me of this song ( yet again I haven’t seen the movie yet )

I think im gonna make playlist

[topgunshenanigans]

I’m not sure if I want to fuck Rhett Abbott

Or if he gives me gender envy.

Either way, there is something there and it’s giving me brain rot

[lewmagoo]

Okay but DILF! Bob who knows you're alone for the holidays and his daughter aka your bestie is traveling so he invites you over because it's the polite thing to do, right?

But God, you look so good bending over to open the oven and he may or may not have grabbed a pair of your panties when he did the laundry, but that's neither here or there.

It definitely ends with him fucking you on every surface of his home 😵‍💫

he simply couldn't live with himself if he let you sit at home alone during the holidays. so he invites you over. that way neither of you have to be lonely. it's neither here nor there if you flounce around in front of him in the tiniest pj sets that leave little to the imagination. or if you bend over to take cookies out of the oven and he can see up your skirt. and oh, how silly of you to accidentally leave your delicates in the laundry room where he could see them. strange, it seems that one lacy pair of panties has disappeared from your collection. nevermind that in a moment of weakness, mr. floyd pocketed those panties. and nevermind that he ended the night with those elegant panties wrapped around his achingly hard cock as he got off to the thought of you. of course he felt absolutely filthy when he spilled his cum against the fabric.

he thought getting that out of his system would lessen his desire for you. but that was not the case. in fact, it made it worse, and all he could think about was bending you over and fucking your cute little brains out. which is why it ends as no surprise when you find yourself bent over the kitchen table with him buried balls deep in your needy little pussy. after all, this is what you've been wanting so badly, ever since the first time you saw those glimmering silver locks, and the smile lines around his eyes. and as he's making you come around his thick cock for the second time that night, you know this is only the beginning.

[ereardon]

ok idk if this is a dilf bob sleeping with the nanny/babysitter/etc but i love the idea of Finally hooking up w/ dilf bob and its all very like intense bc its like 'we cant stand the tension anymore' sex and in the afterglow bob is holding you and just asks about something you mentioned completely in passing?? like 'what ever happened with that missing umbrella, did it end up being at work?' or like 'i was meaning to ask, is that friend of yours all right?' BECAUSE HE LISTENS (perhaps not the thottiest of thots but)

Ooh I kind of love that, he definitely listens and cares about her! I'm about 2K words in and I've written this which is similar-ish (but also different!):

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked. 

The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash? 

...

“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?” 

“What do you have?” 

Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.” 

You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast. 

He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling.

[wildellaa]

OMG EM YOU WENT AND OUTDID YOURSELF ❤️❤️❤️!!! this was straight up a meal of daddy! bob, and this girl is starving!!

pls esp the part where he just hauled her to bed, i was salivating and deceased??? i just want a man who's like bob 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

CONGRATS ON 3K EM!! you totally deserve every single follower that you have and your writing is so damn good ❤️❤️

when i saw your post for the dagger DILF party, the first thought that literally came to my mind was daddy! bob overstimulating and spanking his princess bc she was being bratty the whole day 🫣🫣, and afterwards they cuddle and princess tells daddy! bob that she was acting up bc she felt that daddy! bob has been neglecting her and daddy! bob makes it up to her by spending the next few days with her :"))

I love Daddy!Bob! Hope this is what you were looking for!

This is for my Dagger DILFs 3k party!

You were being a brat, and you knew it. But Bob was several years older than you, and he knew how much you loved his attention. But he'd been so busy all week, and now you felt like you weren't getting enough of him.

"I'm absolutely starving, Princess. Did you make dinner?" he asked you when he got home.

"No," you said, your chin jutting out as you shrugged at him and crossed your arms.

"You said you'd take care of dinner on your day off. Is everything okay?" he asked softly, reaching for you.

You just ducked out of his grasp and stormed to the bedroom. You shouted over your shoulder, "I can be a brat if I want to, Bobby."

A few seconds later, he was right behind you, picking you up and hauling you to bed. He dropped you on your stomach on the soft bedding and held you in place with one hand on the back of your neck.

"You know what happens to brats in my house," he growled, yanking your leggings and underwear down.

You smiled and whined for him, and then he was spanking you. Hard. Bobby spanked you for what felt like an hour, until you were a sobbing mess, but loving every second of it.

"Daddy, please. I'll be good," you promised, hiccuping.

"No." He guided his fingers underneath you and teased your clit until you were so wet, you were sure you'd leave a spot on the bed. But he didn't let you get off. He served you more firm smacks to your ass and more teasing strokes to your clit. Finally, face down in the bedding and ass popped up in the air, he let you cum on his fingers.

When you curled up on his chest as your stinging skin made you moan and gasp occasionally, he stroked your cheek. "Princess, you need to tell me why you've been such a brat."

You sniffed and said, "Because I've been missing you, Bobby! You've been so busy. You're never home."

"You feel like Daddy has been neglecting you?" he asked softly, and you nodded against him. "I'll take the day off tomorrow and spend it with you, Princess."

You gave him a kiss and said, "I love you, Daddy."