"Tell her to open the two things from Macy's!"
"She doesn't know what's in the boxes, Kathy!" I'll tell you this: My father is a saint. And I'm not just saying that because I'm a little biased. "Ronnie, there are two rectangular boxes tied together with yarn."
"I see them, Daddy."
The knot came un-done easily with a simple tug. Dad learned how to tie all sorts of knots when he was in the Navy, and over the years, he taught me all of them. He also taught me how to shoot, hustle people at cards, curse, fight dirty and all the other things my mother thought were inappropriate for girls. He told me that he worked hard to send me to a good college so I wouldn't have to spend six months a year at sea to provide for my family, but he also didn't want me unprepared for how the world really works, either.
I was about to pull the paper back on the presents when I happened to look up and see Jonathan standing in the doorway to my bedroom.
He leaned back against the door frame and I got my first look at him in all of his naked glory. If he was cold, you couldn't tell by looking. My nipples popped out, and my sex became slick almost immediately.
There was a mischievous smirk on his face.
I gave him the if-you-say-anything-I-will-kill-you look.
In the first box was a very nice sweater, which would come in very handy given the current weather. As I started to open the second present, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
Jonathan was stroking his cock, bringing it back to life. My mouth began to water.
My eyes narrowed. Partly in warning.
Partly with desire.
In the other box, I found a stylish A-line skirt that I saw in a store and found on the internet.
"Thank you, Daddy!" I gushed. "They're just what I wanted."
"Well, all we did was click on the links you sent," he said, almost apologetically.
"Thank you, anyway." I jumped slightly when Jonathan sat down next to me.
I couldn't keep my eyes off his cock, which was standing straight up in his lap as he stroked it. Right next to me.
I'm going to kill you, I mouthed so not to clue my parents in that I was talking to a naked man and them at the same time.
He mouthed something back which looked suspiciously like, I'm going to fuck your brains out, but I'm not a good lip-reader so I couldn't be sure. But I was pretty sure that's what he meant.
"Tell her to open the things in the stocking next!"
"She can open that later," Dad told her. "It's just deodorant, toothpaste and underwear, anyway."
"Now who's giving away her presents?"
"Christ, Kathy! We put all that in her stocking every year!" One hundred percent true. Since I was twelve. "Ronnie, there's a smaller box with a blue bow on it. Open that one next, Pumpkin."
I tore off one corner of the wrapping paper. Just as I realised what it was, Jonathan reached over and gave my tit a firm squeeze. It was all I could do to stifle a yelp.
"Dad!" I used my surprise to cover up the machinations of my new lover. "This wasn't on my list."
"I know, sweetheart." I could tell he was smiling from ear to ear on his end. "But your mom loves her iPad Mini so much, she thought you'd like one, too."
The rest of the wrapping paper fell off and I turned it over to see which one they got me. It wasn't the basic version.
"This must have cost a fortune!"
I didn't hear whatever my dad said next because Jonathan sucked my rock-hard nipple into his mouth and bit gently.
My pussy creamed a little on the spot.
"—and with your brother at the Air Force Academy, we have all of his college fund just laying around, so we're spending it on you," my father continued.
"I'll be sure to thank him," I said into the phone, trying not to scream.
Jonathan stopped suckling on my boobs long enough to cup them from behind. I swatted at his hands, but there was no real threat and I was really just putting up token resistance.
"There's one more thing I want you to open, and then we'll let you go."
"Okay, Dad," I took a deep breath, to calm myself from crying out as Jonathan took my hand and placed it on his cock.
"There's another present that's almost as heavy as the espresso machine." It was easy to find.
Jonathan continued to grope me as I struggled to concentrate on opening the package. He pulled the robe down off my leg and rubbed his tumescent cockhead against my thigh.
"Oh, Daddy!" I ripped the wrapping paper off. Part of it was excitement about my present. Part of it was whenever I said, "Daddy", he gave me a little extra sharp squeeze. That wasn't a complaint, by the way. "This is great!"
Jonathan smiled evilly, apparently thinking I was talking to him.
"Yeah, well, only the best for my little girl." It's a good thing he didn't know I was being molested as I talked to him. "There's a drill motor and an impact driver for the tough jobs. Nineteen point two volts and a carrying case, too."
It's not every daughter who gets power tools from her father, but since I moved out on my own to go to college, Dad made up a list of things he thought I should have and has been filling it out over the years.
I started to say something else, but Jonathan took the box from my hands. His eyes danced with puckish delight. I'm going to drill you later.
"Tell Ronnie to look for the small box . . . you know . . . the small box."
"I told her we were almost done."
"Timothy . . ." Mom got that tone in her voice.
"I've got it right here," I said, biting my lip as Jonathan pushed my legs apart. It was clearly a jewelry box, probably for a necklace.
"Go ahead," my dad said. "After this we'll hang up. We know it's late for you."
My hands shook as I slipped the bow off the present. It was either from the anticipation of what it might be, or the fact that Jonathan slipped two fingers inside me. I was still wet from the load of cum he had deposited in me earlier, as well as his more recent ministrations.
Somehow, I managed to ignore the fact that someone was playing with my pussy and that same person was kissing his way across my shoulder to my neck and opened the present.
Sure enough, it was a gorgeous gold chain with matching gold pendant that seemed to be encrusted in tiny cut gems. Just as I started to lift the necklace out of the box, I felt Jonathan lift me up off the couch and on to his lap.
His cock was hard underneath me. I stifled a moan as I sank down on top of him. His hands caressed my rear end and I leaned back into his arms.
"I love it," I breathed, hoping that I didn't give anything away to my father. "Daddy, you shouldn't have."
The robe was wrapped around me, but somehow, the top was loose enough that my boobs spilled out of it. My nipples stuck straight up and Jonathan wasted no time in taking them between his fingers and thumb.
"It's beautiful, Daddy," I whispered, my eyes hypnotized by the glittering stones. Again, I playfully swatted at my lover's hands, but that only seemed to egg him on.
"Well, you deserve it, Pumpkin," Dad said, apparently oblivious to what was being done to me. I guess I was covering it well. Beneath me, Jonathan began to move his hips, first from side to side and then up and down. The slow burn of his cock inside me was making me tingle from the inside out. "You're only twenty-five for a year!"
"I . . .I don't know what to say . . . Thank you, Daddy," I had to close my eyes and grit my teeth as Jonathan's lips ran down my neck. He continued to knead my breasts with his hands and work his cock slowly inside my pussy. I raised my voice just a bit so my mother could hear, and tried not to let it break. "And thank you, Mom!"
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Dad beamed. "Okay, we're sorry for waking you up."
"You know you can call any time."
"Kathy, tell your daughter good-bye."
"Good night, Ronnie. Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Mom. I love you!"
"We love you, too, sweetheart. We'll call you when we get home."
>
The line went dead, but I double checked to make sure they wouldn't hear me talking to the guy I was with.
"I'm going to kill you," I sighed as I melted into Jonathan's strong arms. He pulled me close to him and kissed me, his lips locking onto that one spot on the back of my neck that drives me in-fucking-sane. I dug my nails into his forearm.
"With what? A cordless drill?"
"Daddy gave me a .38 Smith & Wesson last year," I warned without any serious threat in my voice.
"Your father buys you firearms and power tools?" Jonathan's eyebrow shot up. "You know that means you're a daddy's girl?"
"Yeah, so you'd better treat me right!"
"I will always treat you right, 'Ronnie'," he winked. No one calls me that except my parents. Not even my brother.
"Promise?"
In the soft glow of a 13 watt LED desk lamp light bulb, I looked in to Jonathan Reilly's big blue eyes. I couldn't tell if it was just the moment, or if he truly meant it, but when he said the words, I believed him.
"I promise."
He slipped me off his lap and then picked me up in his arms. I nuzzled up against his neck.
Luckily, the switches to the lights were next to the door to my bedroom.
Laying me gently on the bed, Jonathan pressed his weight down on top of me. I spread my legs and his cock pressed into me again.
Our lips met and he kissed me sweetly.
"You are an evil man," I whispered in his ear. "Do you want to know something else about daddy's girls?"
"Tell me."
"If my father finds out that you're playing with my tits and my pussy, or that you're fucking me while I'm talking to him, he'll come here from wherever he is and he will shoot you."
"Then he'd better not find out," Jonathan laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh with him. "Because next time he calls you, I'm going to eat your pretty little pussy . . . and the time after that, I'm going to bend you over the side of the couch and fuck you into next Thursday while you're talking to him. So if you want to keep getting Mr. Happy, you'd better not let him know what we're doing."
"Watch it, buster," I giggled. "Your mouth is writing checks your dick can't cash."
We kissed again, tenderly and gently. His hands caressed my face.
Jonathan's hips moved slightly, just enough to make me tingle. But not hard. Not fast.
Loving.
We lay there for a long time, exploring each other with our hands and our mouths. He cupped my breasts. I played with his very nice backside.
Neither of us were in a rush. I lost track of time, instead content to be just in that moment.
For someone who had given up on this Christmas not so long ago, now I couldn't imagine missing this one this year.
"Yes, you make me so hard," he whispered in my ear. I could feel it filling me up as we spoke. He pushed deep inside me and held it. "I can't believe it's taken us a year to get together."
"Yeah, well, I hope it was worth it."
"Ask me again next year."
* * *
That was three years ago.
I'm pregnant and as big as a house now. Of course, that makes my husband very happy since my boobs went from big to ginormous.
We got married the following year on Christmas Day. I got a promotion at work, but quit my job when they wanted me to move to Toronto to stand up a new district office. Fortunately, Jonathan makes more than enough money for both of us to live comfortably.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not a trophy wife, but I make some money working from home as a freelance consultant, a job which affords me the opportunity to travel when I like, and I can usually go wherever it is that Jonathan's work sends him since my laptop contains pretty much my entire work life.
After spending the previous Christmas in Chicago, we were at home for this one.
"Good morning, beautiful," my husband rolled over next to me in our king-sized bed. We had just bought a house and were nesting. He was cutting back on his travel and starting to do a lot more through videoconferencing and remote access.
I pushed him back on his back, making his morning wood stick straight up under the covers.
It was a little cool in our bedroom, but we'd be making some heat in a minute.
With a great deal of effort, I threw my leg over his hips and sat down on his magnificent cock.
Leaning back, I let him get a good look at my big, pregnant belly, and my round, heavy breasts. I slipped the sports bra off and flung it across the room, so they sprung free.
He cupped him in his hands and lifted his head expectantly off the pillow.
I leaned forward and he took one of my nipples in his mouth. After paying appropriate attention to the other one, I reached for the phone on the nightstand.
"So who should we call first?"
"How about your parents?" Jonathan lay back in the bed, and I could feel him devouring me with his eyes.
"So you still into living dangerously? I think Daddy was suspicious when we talked to him on Thanksgiving."
"Then it's a good thing you had that throw pillow available to keep from screaming. What are you going to do this time?" he asked playfully. I started to move my hips just a little bit, just enough to keep my husband's cock fully erect. "Besides, you're my wife and can have sex with you whenever I want."
"Daddy thinks I'm still a virgin."
"You're eight months pregnant!"
"Immaculate conception, baby. When I was sixteen, he asked if I wanted to be a lesbian so no boy would ever penetrate me with his dick. If you're so sure, when they come here next month when the baby's born, I want you to say the words, 'You know, Timothy, that I put my penis in your daughter's vagina twice a day, whether she needs it or not'." I love teasing my husband about being a Daddy's girl. "Oh, and you have to add, 'I also like it in her mouth and sometimes up her butt.' And you have to do it in person; there will be no chickenshit over-the-phone cop-out."
"Do you really want him to kill me?"
"No, but that's why I got that extra life insurance policy on you. And remember: he's a dead-eye dick with the .44. He may even give you a running start before taking you out with the Remington."
"Not a chance, Mrs. Reilly," he put his hands on my hips and we found a slow, familiar rhythm. I started dialing.
Jonathan's hands went to my breasts and he pinched my nipples just as it rang the first time.
Then suddenly we laughed and once again got caught up in that Christmas magic that brings this tale to a very happy ending.
Merry Christmas!
THE END
* * *
Falling in Love Bit By Bit
* * *
She felt the bullets coming before the sound registered in her audio sensors. With a graceful roll, A617.D dodged the projectiles. Not bothering to look in the direction of the shooter, she raised the slug-thrower and let loose with a burst of armour-piercing bullets of her own. None of them struck her pursuers, but then again, she wasn't really trying to hit them. She just wanted them to put their heads down, and there's nothing like a hail of 10mm explosive-tipped caseless that makes someone—even a full conversion cyborg—take cover.
Without hesitation, A617.D leaped over the railing and fell twenty stories. No one jumped after her.
Her titanium-reinforced endoskeleton absorbed the impact when she struck the pavement, leaving a three foot deep hole where she landed. Terrified onlookers scuttled out of her way. With a quick glance around, A617.D decided none of the humans around her posed a threat, then ran towards her getaway craft.
Knowing there would be ground units in pursuit, A617.D could outrun any human that wasn't wearing a jetpack, but unless she could break through the inevitable security ring, she would be trapped.
That's why there were contingency plans.
The glare of police sirens filled the air. She could hear them coming, her enhanced auditory suite picking up sounds too high and too low for human ears. Her internal antennas monitored police and military
frequencies. A very sophisticated—and very expensive—sensor package tracked everything that moved within a quarter mile. She knew where her adversaries were and what they were up to. That was of little comfort to the assassin, though. They were well trained and had combat robots of their own to hunt her down.
What they lacked, though, was the sheer ingenuity that went in to her construction. No expense had been spared in A617.D or her "sisters". Their primary function was killing, and they were very good at it. So good, in fact, that her inventor and manufacturer had to go into hiding, lest they be done in by any number of people who had a score to settle with a presidential assassin or the people responsible for knocking off a crime lord or drug kingpin.
Along with the other robots on this mission, A617.D had access to no less than four escape vehicles along carefully planned egress routes, and she was making her way to the nearest ones. The other assassin robots would find their own flitters and escape.
The collision sensor alerted her to the incoming missile that missed by less than a foot. It streaked by and hit a nearby groundcar. She vaulted over the explosion and landed amidst broken bodies, human and robot alike. Bullets peppered the street, raining down from an aerial gunship.
Everyone scrambled for cover, including A617.D.
Escape. Evade. This unit is in danger. The short tachyon communication burst from I825.M barely registered in her consciousness, but the orders did not pass her notice.
This unit is surrounded. Another set of instructions passed through her positronic mind in a nanosecond, this time from C224.J. Complete the mission.
Within her biomechanical brain, A617.D analysed the shared telemetry data from her two companions. Both were being pursued heavily. The odds of survival for each was less than 3 percent. Calculating her own chances, she came up with something on the order of 26 percent. She was the logical choice to make another run at the objective while the other two created a distraction.
The pieces of the exploding groundcar were still falling from the sky in the time it took for A617.D to assess the situation. She raised her pistol and emptied the magazine in the direction of the nearest police car.
Erotic Stories Page 41
