by Anais Ninja
Dana was sitting on her bed, reading an assignment for school. She’d changed into a short pink sundress, just like mine except for the color. She looked up from her book and smiled.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” I said, reaching into my backpack for my journal.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t have much homework today. Is Mommy okay?”
“She’s fine, just taking a nap,” I said. “Daddy’s taking us out for dinner when he gets home.” Dana nodded and smiled, and I left her to her reading, carrying my journal into the living room and stretching out on the couch, writing down the events of the last few days. I had just finished when I heard my father’s car pull into the driveway.
“Hey, kitten,” he said, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. “That’s a pretty dress. You just get that today?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, closing my journal.
“Where’s Mia?” he asked.
“Taking a nap.”
“Oh. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Just tired from shopping.”
“That’s good,” my father said. “Can you get the kids ready for dinner?”
“Sure.” I got up from the couch and headed down the hall to the kids’ rooms while my father disappeared into his bedroom. David was just finishing his homework and he changed his shirt while I went to let Dana know that we were leaving.
Dinner was delicious, though the mariachi band started to get on my nerves. Fortunately, they took a long break by the time our food arrived. Like the Cubano food my stepfather’s sisters liked to make, it was heavy on rice and beans, but with beef instead of pork, seasoned with salsa and guacamole instead of lime and onions. Unlike our first dinner out, my father didn’t get plastered, barely making a dent in a glass of sangria. David and Dana wolfed down their food, and even Mia seemed to have a big appetite.
We went out for ice cream afterwards before heading back home, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was part of this family. It felt nice, and I secretly hoped that it would never end.
Back at the house, Mia excused herself and put David and Dana to bed, heading off to sleep as well. My father and I sat in the living room, not saying anything for a while. Then he got up and went into the kitchen, returning with a plate of lime slices and a shaker of salt. He placed these on the coffee table and went to the bar, selecting a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, showing me how to place the salt on my hand, lick it, swallow the shot, and chase it with a wedge of lime. I expected the golden liquor to be harsh, like bourbon, but it was surprisingly smooth. After that first shot, I felt a familiar feeling of warmth spreading through my body.
“Not too fast, princess,” my father said as I poured myself another shot. “This stuff sneaks up on you, and you’ll feel like shit in the morning.”
“Okay, Daddy.” I took a small sip of my second shot, no salt or lime.
“Listen, about last night...”
“What about it?” I asked.
“I just want to know...I mean...” He searched for the right words to say. “I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of sicko or something.”
“Daddy,” I whispered, reaching for his hand. “Do you remember when I was younger, before you left me and Mommy, how you used to give me a bath sometimes?”
“Um...”
“You used to touch me,” I said. “Down there. And sometimes you’d put my hands on your penis. Do you remember?”
My father looked off in the distance for a moment and then reached for the bottle, pouring another shot and downing it in one quick gulp.
“I didn’t think you’d remember that,” he said. “I’d nearly forgotten about it myself.”
“I remember, Daddy. And I thought about you a lot.” I scooted over on the couch next to him, and he put his arm around me.
“Annie, when you and Mia were in her office yesterday, what were you doing?”
“I can’t tell you, Daddy.”
“I understand. I could hear you, though,” he said. “Is she that frustrated?”
“She says you won’t touch her, Daddy.” I didn’t want to disabuse him of the notion that women loved women out of frustration, or the lack of a male partner, and not because of passion, because of love, or because sometimes a woman’s touch was the only thing that mattered.
“I...I’m afraid of doing something that hurts the baby.”
“What if you tried to be gentle?” I reached for my drink and downed it, picking up a wedge of lime and sucking it.
“I did. I mean I do try, but...”
“It won’t hurt the baby if she comes once in a while,” I said.
“You’re right,” he said, pouring two more shots. My head was starting to swim already, so I just sipped this one slowly. “Where did you learn that, anyway?” he asked me.
“Learn what?”
“Learn to eat pussy,” he said, licking the salt from the back of his hand and downing his shot.
“Daddy, I’ve done a lot of things,” I said. “Some things I can never tell anyone.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because you’ll never look at me the same way again,” I said. “I just want to be your little girl again.” I snuggled up against him and he gently stroked my hair.
“You’ll always be my little girl, Annie.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” He poured another shot and gulped it down, but I passed when he offered to pour me one.
“Hey, I want to take some more pictures of you,” my father said. “Is that okay?”
“Sure, Daddy.”
“Come to my office with me.” He stood up from the couch and held out his hand, helping me to my feet. I swayed for a second, feeling the effects of the tequila, a head rush that made the lights dim for a moment. My father grabbed the bottle and led me down the hall to his den. There were five fresh film packs on the desk, next to his Polaroid. He was about to load one into the camera, but I put my arms around him instead.
“Hold me, Daddy.” I wanted to feel his strong arms around me, hugging me. He was more than happy to oblige. We stood there for a few minutes, neither of us quite steady on our feet, sort of holding each other up. I felt his hands on the zipper of my dress, tugging it downward. As I let it fall from my shoulders and pool around my feet, I could feel his hardness begin to grow in his trousers as he caressed my back. He bent his head and kissed me, first on the cheek, then on my nose, finally on my lips.
“My sexy little kitten...,” he whispered.
“Daddy...” I pressed against him, grinding my thigh against his, rubbing his erection through his pants. He hugged me again and then released me from his embrace, reaching for the camera. As he loaded the film cartridge, I reached back and unclasped my bra.
“Perfect,” he said as I reclined on the couch, wearing only my panties. He snapped a few pictures, and then I got up and stood by his desk, turning around and arching my back. He shot a few more pictures, a goofy grin on his face, and then I began to pull down my underwear.
“Wait a sec,” he said, ejecting the empty film pack and loading another. My father took a few shots of me with my undies around my thighs. Then I stepped out of them and sat on the couch again, spreading my legs to show him my pussy. He went through two more film cartridges, ten or twelve pictures each, while I posed for him. The pictures were as explicit as anything Cecil had taken. I spread my labia for him, my ass cheeks, licked my lips and fondled my breasts, reached down and played with my pussy. I could see my father’s face get flushed, the sheen of perspiration forming on his forehead.
“I want to see you, Daddy,” I pleaded as he changed the film cartridge again. It had been dark in Dana’s bedroom the night before, and he’d been wearing a bathrobe, so I couldn’t see his whole body. I stood up from the couch and went over to him, unbuttoning his shirt while he fumbled with the film’s foil package. He put down the camera and unfastened his trousers, pulling them down along with his boxer shorts and stepping out of them.
“Like what you see, kitten?” my father asked as he took off his shirt, standing naked in front of me, his hardness jutting out from a thick nest of pubic hair. He was well-built, fit, just a hint of thickness around his waist. Mia had told me that he was an avid tennis player, golfer, swimmer. It showed.
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, running my hands over his broad chest. He kissed me again and then I slowly sank to my knees in front of him and leaned into his crotch. There was a tiny pearl of precum on the tip of his penis and I extended my tongue, licking off the drop of seminal fluid before planting a tender kiss on his glans.
“You want to suck your father’s cock, baby?” he said.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you want to suck me.”
“I want to suck you, Daddy,” I said. “I want to suck your cock and make you come in my mouth.”
“Good girl,” he said. “Suck Daddy’s cock now, princess.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I kissed the tip of his penis again and parted my lips, taking my father’s hardness into my mouth. He groaned as I slowly sucked the length of his shaft, bathing it with my tongue. I heard a click and saw a flash and looked up; he’d taken a picture of me fellating him. What the hell, I didn’t care. I winked at him and pulled his cock from my mouth, licking it from tip to base as he took another couple of photographs.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, setting the camera aside. “Suck me. Suck your Daddy’s big dick, baby.”
I took him back in my mouth and gave him the best blowjob I’d ever given anyone, ever. I fondled and licked his balls, I stroked the base of his shaft, I bathed his glans and the underside of his shaft with my tongue, I even tried to deep throat him, though I could never do this without gagging and this night was no exception. He must have appreciated the effort, though, and he responded by rocking his hips back and forth, following the movement of my head.
When his cock began to twitch I knew he was close to coming. I placed my hands on his firm buttocks and began to suck him faster, pulling him towards me with each stroke. My father placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me back and forth, setting the pace of his pleasure. I could hear him start to moan, a low guttural note that I could feel all the way down to the tip of his penis. Suddenly he stopped his vocalizations, his hips froze, his penis tensed and twitched in my mouth, and he erupted in a torrent of hot, thick semen. I clamped my lips around his spasming member and began to swallow his sperm, not wanting to lose a single drop of daddycum, milking his cock with my lips. I scooped up the last few dribbles with my tongue and released him from my mouth when he began to soften, giving the tip one last kiss and looking up at him.
My father smiled down at me, a gleam in his eye. He looked so proud of me, just like Ramon had looked after I pitched my first winning game in Little League. My father reached down and took my hand, pulling me to my feet, holding me, kissing me.
“You liked that, baby, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said. “I loved sucking you.”
“You like the taste of my cum?”
“Yummy, Daddy,” I said, in my best “little girl” voice. “Yummy cummy in my tummy.” This made him laugh, and he reached for the tequila, unscrewing the cap and taking a big slug, straight from the bottle. He offered it to me and I took a small gulp.
“My little girl’s growing up to be a sexy woman,” he said, placing his hand on my breast. He led me over to the couch and sat down, pulling me on to his lap, his hands roaming over my back, my bottom, my thighs, my titties. I spread my legs for him, giving him access to my cunny, letting him feel how wet I was down there. He took another swig from the bottle.
“You want Daddy to lick your pussy, baby?” he asked me, his words starting to slur together, making the word “pussy” sound like “pushy”.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Beg me.”
“What?”
“Beg me to lick your pussy, Annie.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I said. “Please. Please lick my pussy, Daddy.”
“Again.”
“Please, Daddy. Lick my pussy.”
“Again.”
“Oh, please won’t you lick me, Daddy? It’s like I’m on fire down there.”
“That’s my girl,” he laughed. He put down the bottle and laid me down on the couch, hoisting one of my legs along the back and pushing the other one off of the cushions, so I was splayed open for him. He leaned over me and took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking it hard, grazing it with his teeth.
“Ow, Daddy.” I felt particularly sensitive, and his teeth hurt.
“Sorry, baby,” he said. “Gentle. I’ll be gentle.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, running my hands over his back. He began to kiss me lower, working down my body, heading right for my cleft. I could feel his warm breath on my sex, and he hesitated for a moment.
“Pretty pussy,” he said in a hoarse voice. “My baby’s pussy is so pretty.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“You shave your pussy, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I like it,” he said. And then he dived right in, licking my wet slit with his rough tongue. He was like an animal. Actually, he reminded me of the way Schultzie had licked my crotch, long broad strokes along the length of my slit, not even bothering to find my clitoris. I arched my back, trying to make him concentrate on that spot below my prepuce where my button was, but he just licked up and down, pausing every so often to curl his tongue up and penetrate my passage. After a few minutes of this, though, I felt that welcome feeling begin to mount between my legs, building up every time he managed to make contact with my clit. I could come after an hour or two of this, I thought.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at me, a hungry look on his face. I looked down at him and noticed that he was hard again. He moved up from between my legs and kissed me, taking one of my breasts in his hand and squeezing it.
“I want you, baby,” he said, his voice congested with lust and hunger. “I wanna fuck my little girl.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said. “Fuck me. Just don’t make me beg for it.” He laughed and kissed me again, rubbing his penis over my sex. I wanted him so badly that I would have begged for it. Gladly. I wanted to feel him inside me, to feel him open me, fill me.
“You got protection, baby?” he asked me. “I got a condom somewhere.”
“I’m wearing a diaphragm, Daddy.” I’d had it in since before dinner. After sucking him the night before I expected this to happen.
“You knew we’d do this?” he asked.
“I wanted to do this, Daddy.”
“My baby,” he murmured. I reached down and took hold of his hardness, guiding the tip between my nether lips. He pressed forward with his hips, pushing his cock inside me, gliding along a carpet of my moisture and his saliva, slowly pressing inward until he filled me. My father stretched out on top of me and kissed me. Our tongues met and melded together as he slowly began to thrust.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispered. I clenched myself around his thick shaft and he gasped, slowly pulling back until just the tip of his tool remained inside me. Then he pushed forward again, filling me once more. I wrapped my arms around his back and met his thrust with my hips, wanting to take him deeper.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I urged him. “Fuck me hard.” It felt naughty and sexy to say these words, and they had the desired effect on my father. His thrusts grew faster and deeper, and I felt that kernel of delight begin to grow again, spreading outward from my belly, sending waves of pleasure through my whole body. I felt wonderfully helpless underneath my father’s pumping body, under his control, an instrument of his lust. That it was my Daddy’s cock inside me, the fat ridge of flesh on top of his glans dragging across my sensitive spot, only intensified my pleasure. I felt like crying out, even though my climax hadn’t arrived, and I pressed my mouth against his shoulder, trying to muffle myself. I couldn’t do this without bitin
g my father, but this only seemed to spur him on, and he began to fuck me furiously.
“Daddy...Daddy...I’m...I’m...” I was breathless, unable to even complete a sentence, and then it hit me, a mindblowing orgasm, dimming my vision, making me quiver beneath him as this ecstatic sensation took control of my body. Stars, I saw stars, bright silver and gold lights against a deep red field. The stars began to fade, my vision returned, and I wrapped my arms and legs around his body, holding on tight, never wanting this to stop. And then it hit me again, and I felt like I was going to pass out cold.
I didn’t, though. I managed to remain conscious. I think I might have screamed. Maybe I didn’t, but my father clamped his lips on mine anyway, probing my mouth with his tongue as his cock probed my depths, pushing in and out with long, forceful strokes. I reached a third, lower peak, and I began to feel myself getting sore down there.
“Daddy...come for me...come...come in me...,” I rasped, finding my voice again. My father grunted an acknowledgment and kept fucking me with those long hard thrusts. I tightened myself around his veiny shaft, hearing him grunt again, and then I felt him come, hot spurts of cum erupting from his cock, filling my tender cunny with a feeling of warmth. His thrusts began to slow and then stop. I released my hold on his body, letting my arms and legs go limp.
“Baby,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck and kissing me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said.
“Was that okay?” His question struck me as odd. Couldn’t he tell that I came three times?
“That was the best, Daddy.”
“Good, good,” he said, kissing me on the cheek and climbing off of me. I felt a post-orgasmic shiver when his cock slipped out of me. As his sperm begin to ooze from my tender little cunny, I reached for my panties, trying to slip them on. My legs felt like rubber, and I could barely pull them up my shins. As my father took a swig from the bottle of tequila, I managed to get them up my thighs and over my ass before I made a mess on the couch.
