by Francis Ashe
All at once, the sticky heat radiating up from my sex began to flirt with tingles from my nipple. My body came alive with desire, and I think my daddy noticed. I clutched him to me, gripped him with my legs. He shoved his cock in deep and hard, ramming it against the back of my cunt and making my juice drip down his sack and onto the floor underneath. As he thrust, Peter took his mouth off my tit and leaned his head back. A little dribble of milk ran down his chin.
“Uhn... oh my God, Liz, you feel so good. I can’t take much more, you’re making your daddy cum. Oh this pussy is so tight. Squeeze me again, squeeze this big cock. Where do you want me to cum? Want all this sticky jizz inside you? Do you want your daddy to fill you up?”
Each time Peter shoved in, I met him in the middle, jamming my hips down as he pushed up. I was so close, dangling on the edge of another climax, and to know that he was right there with me was incredible. He pulled the finger out of my clenching ass and braced me against his body with both arms. I wrapped mine around his neck.
Hot breath caressed me. I knew he was close. He breath quickened and I felt his cock twitch inside me, get a little bigger.
When I felt him jam in again and hold me tight, there was nothing I could do.
Air hissed between my teeth and my pussy started to convulse on his rod. I tensed up, constricted around his cock and bucked my hips in short, fast bursts.
Daddy let out a loud “Aaah!” and right before his explosion, I felt his cock surge inside me, stretching my pussy just a little more and then erupting. A rumble from deep inside his chest vibrated against my neck, and then a huge, hot pump filled me. His load was hot inside me, then warm as it dripped down his dick and out of me, finally resting in a pool on his soft, smooth sack.
Another jet gushed inside my convulsing sex, and that was all I could take.
A rumble just like the one that came out of my daddy slipped out of my lips. I leaned my head back, relaxed in his arms, and let the waves of pleasure take me away. Uncontrollably my body began to squeeze and release in cycles of build-up and release. Over and over again, I jammed my hips down, trying to milk every ounce of my daddy’s cum out of him and into me.
He groaned, pushed deep and filled me one last time as I lost all control.
I squealed and squirmed when my pussy muscles gripped him and a gush of my own covered his cock and pooled under our bodies.
My vision swam a little, pin-pricks of light coloring the backs of my eyelids. My entire body clenched up tight one last time, and released it all at once. I shook and shuddered with my cum, safe in my daddy’s arms.
We stayed there, his cock inside me, sex juice mixing and dripping down between us, until he began to go soft. When he fell out of me, Peter stood up and put a pillow against the wall, indicating I should recline.
“You stay right there baby girl, I’ll be back in just a minute.”
As he turned to leave, I snaked out a hand and caught the back of his leg.
“Just a sec. Come here,” I whispered.
He came close and I slipped my lips around his cock, soft but still heavy and thick. I slid my tongue over his dickhead, licking away the last drop of his cum and relishing the mixture of our bodies on him. Peter stroked my hair and smiled down at me as I kissed his tip and lay back against the pillows.
A moment later, my daddy returned with a steaming hot towel.
“Here, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
He caressed my entire body, neck to toes, exploring every nook and crevice with the intensely hot cloth. The steam opened my sinuses, and the heat turned my skin just a little pink. As he rubbed and cleansed me, I lay my head back against the pillow my daddy put against the wall and closed my eyes for a moment to just enjoy the treatment. By the time he finished, cleaned himself off and tossed the towel in the washer, I had started to doze.
I startled myself with a little snore.
Daddy laughed and sat down beside me, to my surprise, fully clothed.
“Oh my God, how long was I out?” I yawned and stretched. My shoulders popped.
“Not long, ten minutes, maybe fifteen. You looked bushed. I figured you needed it. The little dude needed to be changed, so I took care of him. He’s in the living room laying in his crib batting at that alien-themed mobile you found in that garage sale. Definitely the strangest damn baby toy I’ve ever seen, but what the Hell, he likes it.”
I’ve got to know where he stands with all this. Coming, staying, laying, praying, I just have to know.
“Daddy, I hate to do this, but we’ve got to talk about all that stuff you said earlier - about mom and you moving in with me. What are you thinking? I know you’re miserable here, and I just want to see you happy, even if it means living a little hand-to-mouth for a while. We’d be fine.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I know. It’s a lot to process, but the one thing that’s sure is I can’t be away from you. You’re mine; I’m yours. That is how this works. If I’m honest, I was always pretty sure this is how things would end up between your mother and I, you know? It was just a matter of time.”
“Well,” I started, and then paused for a moment to kiss him on the cheek. “We could be sad about this, mope around and feel bad. Or, we could take it for what it is – an opportunity. A new start.”
My daddy, his eyes sparkling, looked down at me and held me close against his body. I felt his heart, listened to his breath and felt, as always, safe.
“One thing,” I said, “Promise me that you want to do this. That you aren’t just moving up with me out of some misplaced obligation. I want you to do whatever will make you happy. Okay?”
“I’d never do that to you, little girl. We were meant for each other. I really believe that. And you’re right. I’m going to stop acting down. Do what you have to do, right? We’ll figure it out. We always have before. It’ll be hard, but this is what I want. I want you.”
“Good,” I said, staring in his eyes for just a moment longer. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
A few minutes later, as I sat folding clothes and Peter was making ridiculous faces at little Davis, I was vaguely aware of a car door shutting outside. Mom. My daddy looked over at me, his eyes serious but full of love. “Put on a happy smile,” he said, “this is going to be tough.”
“Everything that’s worth it is, huh?” I smiled and patted the back of his hand as he walked past.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
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If you’re hungry for more, check out the bonus excerpts below – I’m sure something will tickle your fancy while you wait for Bred 4!
Check out my author page for the full list of my erotic stories
Connect with me online:
Blog: francisashe.wordpress.com
email: [email protected]
Twitter: @francisashe
Facebook: Francis Ashe
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Bonus Material: Babysitting for Daddy (rough taboo sex)
If you’re in the mood for more taboo with a little rougher edge, Lauren’s Family Fantasies pt. 1 is for you!
Lauren has daddy issues. Step-daddy issues more accurately. Ever since her mom remarried, she's been fantasizing about her step-dad Franco. When he calls her to babysit while mom is out of town, she wears her best tight shirt and torn jeans. When Franco returns early, and realizes she isn't wearing any underwear, he decides to teach her a lesson she won't forget! Scream for daddy!
Warning: this extremely explicit 3700 word short story features a step-dad fantasy, rough sex, spanking, deep throating, and a whole lot of discipline. May be too hot for school, but it isn't too hot for daddy!
Excerpt:
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time I was at that dinner. I made up some bullshit excuse about a stomachache and got here as fast as I could. I can’t be the only one that feels like this,” he said, standing up and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. “If I’m out of line, just say so and I’ll stop.”
“I... N
o, I mean, well, no. You aren’t the only one. I was staring at your bed when you were gone and fingering myself. I’ve wanted you to ram me since I met you.” I blushed, although I’m not sure why.
“Oh my God, those tits of yours. I can’t believe how tight that shirt is.”
He put his hands on my hips and pulled me close. He kissed me hard and brushed his lips around the back of my neck. His hand explored my chest, and when he figured out that I wasn’t wearing a bra, his cock got so hard I thought his pants were going to rip.
“Oh, you dirty little whore,” he said, smiling. “No bra? You came here wanting to get fucked, didn’t you?”
At first, I was offended. Then I decided to get over myself and live it up.
“Yes, daddy.” I bit my lip a little and looked up at him with wide open doe-eyes. “Yes daddy, I’ve been a bad little girl, haven’t I? I promise that if you teach me a lesson, I’ll remember it.” I cooed, apparently trying to win an Oscar. Franco loved it.
“Get over here. I’ll show you what happens to naughty girls like you.” He unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, making a loop. “Pants down. You need a spanking.”
“Yes, daddy,” I said, dropping my ripped jeans. No panties either, I’m really naughty.
“No panties? You are a filthy thing, huh? Look at that bald little pussy,” he ran a hand down the front of me and nestled it between my lips for a second. “I’m gonna work you over, inside and out. Bend down and grab your ankles, you dirty girl.”
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Bonus Material: Bred by the Beastmen (reluctant gangbang breeding)
For something a little raunchier, a little more risqué, but just as exciting, give this one a shot!
When TV show host Gina Templeton gets a hot tip about a group of never-before-filmed beastmen living deep in an uncharted forest, she jumps at the chance to break the story. However, as soon as she and her team arrive on location, their guide reveals that in all the years he’s known about the wild men, he’s never seen a female. Will Gina be able to keep her femininity concealed, or will the gorgeous, muscular, terrifying men of the forest figure her out?
Warning: This 5300+ word erotic short story features a group halfway between man and beast, a woman bound, a forced gangbang, reluctant breeding, explicit oral and vaginal sex, anal play, a terrified cameraman, an alpha that towers above the rest of the beastmen, and a woman who is far more important than she realizes.
Excerpt:
A hand around my ankle, powerful and callused, yanked me backwards from my hiding place and into the air. Dangling there, upside down, my khaki hiking shirt fell to my chin. I tried to push it back up, but as soon as I did, another of the monstrous men snatched my hand and held my wrist.
My first instinct was to scream. To kick, bite, howl and run.
My second instinct was to let them fuck me.
Those feelings from earlier – the heat that rose from the base of my spine as I watched them wrestle – came flooding back. I writhed and twisted, partially because I wanted to get away, and partially because I wanted the savage wild men to think I was fighting.
Maybe if they think I want to run, they’ll hold me down, tie me up, something.
A fist shot out in no particular direction as I thrashed, and thumped against a hard, drawn jaw. What seemed to be a real hay-maker on my end barely fazed the muscular creature who just smiled back, the moonlight glinting off his muscled chest.
Breath caught in my chest as the one holding me aloft shook his silvery hair and let is settle around his shoulders. His high cheekbones and full lips, drenched in shadow but still plainly visible, took me aback. The light dusting of hair over the lower half of his face was less beard and more fur, but even still, I could not take my eyes off him. Something about his severe, powerful face made me yearn for him – ache for him to fill me with his...
And that was the first time I looked down.
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Daddy’s Little Girl: Bred by My Daddy 3
By Francis Ashe
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Daddy’s Little Girl: Bred by My Daddy 3
Copyright 2012 Francis Ashe
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
