by Adrian Amos
But then daddy pulls his hips back, and I feel the emptiness come back to me. I'm so close to yelling for him not to pull out, but then he pushes himself back in, a little faster than before, and all that sharp tingling I felt before rushes into me all at once. I moan, the sudden uptake into my cunt a tantalizing feeling.
My pussy feels so sensitive to daddy inside me that it's scary. I don't know what I like more: daddy staying inside me or daddy pulling out and forcing his way back in?
When he pulls out again and reinserts, I know the answer. The comfort of daddy's embrace is one thing, but the power of his cock breaking my walls down makes me weak. Daddy can stay in me later; right now, all I want is for him to fuck me hard.
I grind my hips into him like before, shifting his cock inside me, rubbing it against every inch of tender flesh. And then daddy bounces me up, impaling me on his cock and letting his girth do the work.
“Thank you, daddy,” I mutter between gasps of air, “for taking care of me.”
Daddy bites his lip. “You're welcome, baby. If daddy knew you wanted his cock all along, he would have pinned you against the wall a long time ago.”
“I want you to use me however you want, daddy. You deserve it.”
“All right, little girl,” he says, “then you hang tight.”
I latch onto daddy's shoulders as he lifts me by my waist a few inches in the air. And then daddy drives into me, slamming his hips with full force into my tiny frame, slapping his hips against my thighs.
“Oh fu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-ck,” I sputter, daddy's hard thrusts causing me to hold my breath and shatter my words. Daddy fucks me like an animal, ramming his huge rod into me, using his gift to his full satisfaction.
He grunts, turning me over and getting behind me. I lie up against the back of the couch and daddy gets behind me, placing his feet on each side of me and standing on top of the couch. He stoops down and mounts me from behind.
In our new doggy position, daddy fucks me from behind, gripping my hips and propelling me into the back cushion as his dick smashes into me.
“Oh fuck, daddy!”
He grabs a wad of my hair in his fist and pulls my head off the cushion, giving him leverage to pull my head back as he thrusts his cock in.
Daddy's ferocity is erotic. I imagined daddy would be gentle and caring—which he was until now—but the moment I gave him permission to use me, daddy took it upon himself to fuck me unforgivingly.
But his roughness only spurred my arousal on even more, infatuated with the fact that my daddy's sexual urges are being fulfilled by his daughter. I'm letting his dick use my body, and it's amazing that I can make my daddy this happy and horny.
I feel like I might finally be able to repay him for everything he's done for me.
He slows down, and I take the opportunity to push back against him, grinding my pussy against his pelvis. “Fuck me, daddy. Fuck your little baby as hard as you want.”
He stands me up and kisses me, slowly guiding me across the room as we make out. He spins me around quick, pressing his body against mine into the wall. I raise my hands up and lay my palms on the wall, surrendering to his will.
Daddy slaps my butt, the sting making me wiggle in return. He's never laid a hand on me before, but the harsh reminder of his power is exciting. He's so caring that it can be easy to forget that he's a tough man, strong and domineering. When his body weight crushes me against the wall, when his hand swats at my bottom, there's no way I'm going to forget how sexy of a man he can be!
He hands clutch my hips and daddy pushes himself back inside me, fucking me as my tits smush and my body slides up the wall.
“Fuck me good, daddy.”
“Daddy's daughter always gets the best.”
Daddy grabs my arms and bends them behind my back, banding my forearms together with one hand as the other rests on my shoulder. Restrained now, daddy pushes his full length into me, using my shoulder to bring me back onto his cock.
Daddy fucks me into the wall, punishing my pussy with long thrusts. I can't get my mind off of daddy's hand holding my arms behind my back. The lack of movement, the inability to resist, makes me burn up. His fingers dig in the longer he goes, getting rougher as his lust takes over his brain. Feeling like a prisoner to his desire, my body merely gives way to everything my daddy wants.
“Daddy... daddy... oh daddy,” I moan, the surge in my pussy growing with every stroke and word. “Daddy... daddy.” My moans turn to whimpers as the surge overwhelms me, exhausting my body. And then one of daddy's strokes breaks through, busting the wall that had been building inside me.
I orgasm for the first time, my body arching and seizing, my ass jiggling on daddy's dick as it bounces up and down. Daddy holds still as my body recoils on him, letting my orgasm take my body over. My pussy hugs daddy's dick over and over, tightening and making daddy fill me up even more.
Daddy thrusts into me until I can feel his own body start to give way. And then he groans, pushing his dock deep inside of me, holding it there as he clutches my arms tight. That comforting moment of him inside me takes over for the briefest moment, until a sudden surprise hits me. Daddy's cock begins to pulse, and ropes of his cum unload into me, spilling into my cunt as daddy orgasms inside of me. Hot waves shoot through me and my screams are loud and fierce, the release of his seed like another mini orgasm flowing through me.
That delicious warmth takes over, and as daddy rests on top of me, his hot cum swishes inside, coating me and burrowing deep within.
Warm tears stream down my face.
Daddy pulls out and gives me a hug. “Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No, daddy. I'm just really happy.”
He smiles, chuckling to himself. “You little goofball. You had me worried there.”
“Sorry, daddy,” I say, wiping my tears away. “I just really like having sex with you. I like feeling your cum inside me. It makes me feel special.”
“Baby,” he says, caressing my cheek, “you've always been special to me.”
I nod, knowing how true that was. “Did you like my gift?”
His mouth curls, giving way to an expanding smirk. “I never expected you to get me anything. But that said, I don't think anyone's ever given me such a precious gift.”
I laugh, happy I can service my daddy right. As much as I thought I was doing a favor for daddy, I realized that I needed this as much as he did. “You know, it might just be the gift that keeps on giving,” I blush, looking down at my feet.
“I didn't think I could love you anymore. I was wrong. You thought daddy took care of you before? Wait until you see what daddy does for his little girl's pussy.”
I giggle as daddy carries me over to the couch.
Who knew giving gifts felt so good?
- - -
Daddy, I Need to Tell You Something
You ever have trouble speaking the words you really want to?
I do, but not for the normal reasons. Well, I mean, telling my stepdad how much I love him was never going to be easy, in any world, but I think I actually would today if I could just get the words out.
Unfortunately, a bad bout of laryngitis has stolen my voice. A couple of weeks ago, my throat became swollen and I couldn't talk. Like, at all. The swelling and pain has gone down a lot since then, and I can talk a little bit now, but only a few words a day until I'm exhausted and can't utter another peep. It's horrible! I can't talk to any of my friends, and you don't get to be a popular girl ignoring everyone.
But the worst part is that I can't talk to my stepdad, and he's the only one I care about right now.
He was so worried when the doctor diagnosed me. For the past few weeks, he's been watching over me like a hawk, checking in every hour to see if I need anything or how I'm feeling. He makes sure I don't get into a funk by making me take showers on time and to eat every meal whether I want to or not. He's worried I might get depressed or starve.
I think a big part of it is he f
eels guilty. He works at a lumber mill, and most days when he gets home, he tends to shake a whole mess of saw dust out of his clothes. He's said a couple of times that he thinks he might have gotten me sick with all that airborne crap.
But I don't fret about that at all. All I've been thinking about is him, the sexy man who's been taking care of me like his baby. Over the days, I've just felt calm around him, and when he guides me by the arm, I get goosebumps running down my skin. I've never felt so dainty and fragile in my life than when his thick, coarse arm hair brushes against my smooth skin. It's like having a grizzly bear snuggle up against me!
He's always been my daddy ever since I met him, but seeing him fawn over me day in and day out over the past few weeks has driven this desire throughout me. It's so often that I start to fantasize about him, or my pussy starts to tingle as my stomach turns. I've been pining for him, sometimes even playing sicker than I am just to get that little bit more of attention he's got stored away.
I love it; I love him. I'm so tired of playing games with him, and all I want is to push us into something new together.
So I guess it's kind of ironic that the way I decided to do that is through a game. Well, kind of a game.
I put on my little white nightie, the one that I think makes me look cute as all get out. I slide on panties with little hearts on them, and I shave my legs—I even shave my pussy—making sure that if something happens, I want it to be as perfect as possible.
My heart flutters at the thought and my palms get instantly sweaty. I swallow, my gut spinning as I think about daddy touching me, or maybe even lying on top of me. This is so nerve wracking! I don't think I've ever put myself in such a tough spot, really put myself out there. I mean, if daddy turns me down, it won't just wreck me, it'll change everything between us!
Should I really do this? Is it worth it? Is seducing daddy the best thing I can do?
My mind is bouncing off the walls and doubt is creeping in. I'm about to make either the greatest or most foolish decision of my life. I'm young now, but I don't see how this doesn't reverberate inside me for all time.
I swallow and lick my lips, trying to moisten the dry anxiety that's taken over.
I almost want to turn around and get changed right back into the stuff I was wearing before, change right back to how things were. But that feeling of daddy's hand on my arm keeps coming back to me. His warmth, his caring, his nurturing, his size, his dominance. It's like I could feel it all in the slightest touch.
And here I am now, with the chance to not only feel that all over again, but to make it a permanent fixture of my life? I can't lose that opportunity.
Daddy's going to be mine completely.
I move to call out to him, somehow forgetting that I couldn't shout that loud even if I wanted to. I should conserve my energy anyway. I'm going to need it.
I head out into the garage, where daddy is cleaning out his car. That sudden feeling of knowing you're totally alone with someone, someone you absolutely adore, rushes through me. The moment is almost precious in its air of innocence, innocence that's about to be derailed.
Conserve my energy, that's what I need to do.
I walk over to daddy and touch his arm, his muscles tensing as my fingertips graze his bicep.
He looks at me, caught off guard. “Oh, hey, baby. What's up?”
I have no idea how to explain what I want, so I use one of my precious words. I croak out in a scraggly voice, “Game?”
His brow furrows, mentally digesting what I said. “You want to play a game?” he asks.
I nod vigorously, pulling him and waving him to come with me.
He laughs. “Okay, okay, I'm coming,” he says, dropping the rag he was holding and shuffling along with me.
I haul him into my bedroom, sitting him down on the chair in front of the easel. Daddy watches me so thoroughly, trying to figure out what I'm doing, that I look away and blush from his intensity.
Daddy, I'm so nervous. You have no idea what I'm going through at the moment, you marvelous man! Your eyes are eating away at me.
I swallow, getting my saliva past the swollen lump in my throat. I feel the sweat on my forehead as either nervousness or illness makes me feel lightheaded.
Looking at the easel, he says, “Is this Pictionary?”
I tilt my head, not quite sure if I'd call it that, but I shrug and nod at the same time, content that it's at least somewhat close to what I want to do.
He smiles, “I guess it's the perfect game when you can't talk.”
I roll my eyes and fold my arms, showing my daddy just how inappropriate a joke like that is.
He smirks, stifling a laugh, “Sorry.”
I pick up the marker and put up a finger, telling him it's time to be quiet and to pay attention.
As I start drawing, Daddy says, “Don't we need a timer or something?”
I just shake my head, not wanting to distract us in any way.
I'm not the best drawer, but what else do I have? I can't tell my daddy the things I want because... well, I can't talk, but more importantly, for some reason, even writing it out for the whole world to know makes me especially queasy.
I start with stick figures, making one bigger than the other.
“Two people,” he says.
I nod. Yeah, I guess that's right.
“One's a giant.”
I shake my head. I draw a triangle around the waist of the smaller stick figure, filling it in pink to make a skirt.
“One's a girl,” he says, animated in his delivery.
I nod quickly, happy he's getting it.
“And the other's a giant.”
My shoulders slump, I roll my eyes and I huff. I know you're joking around, Daddy.
I tap the board below the giant figure and point to daddy.
He points to himself, “That's me?”
I nod. I do the same with the other figure, pointing to myself.
“And that's you.”
I nod. I grab the pink marker again and draw a heart between us, a sudden draft washing over me as I shiver at what amounts to acknowledging my love.
It would be acknowledging, at least, if daddy understood it at all. “It's a heart. Oh, we both have hearts! Blood pumping! Is the answer circulatory systems?!”
I look at him, confused at his weird jumps in logic. What are you talking about?
“What?” he questions, my eyebrows giving away my disappointment.
I point to his stick figure, then to mine, then the heart. Nothing. I draw an arrow from him to the heart, then me to the heart. Still nothing. I step up to the board and give daddy's stick figure a kiss right on his small head.
“Uh,” he says, “I haven't played the game in a while, but I don't think you can make gestures like that.”
I shake my head furiously. Daddy! This isn't Pictionary! You're not getting it! Ugh!
I can't be this bad at drawing. Maybe I am, but daddy's got to be the worst guesser in the history of guessing! I can't say we cover each other's weaknesses, that's for sure.
I pinch my lips together, thinking about what I need to do to show him. I take a deep breath, frustrated that it's not going how I want.
Ah, hell. I don't think I have much of a choice. I just have to be direct.
I grab the board and place it on my lap, writing out exactly what I mean, what I've wanted daddy to know for so long.
I turn the picture toward him, showing him my girly writing. The board says 'I love you.' I was going to use a heart, but I figured daddy just doesn't know what a heart means.
Daddy sees it and his confusion quickly morphs into a smile. “I love you, too, babygirl.”
I rip off the sheet, writing my next thought.
'No, I love love you.'
“You love love me?”
Tear. Next sheet. 'More than a daddy.'
“I don't understand,” he says, shaking his head.
I drop my head. I just want to scream, or at the very least, tell him
in a way he can understand. But my damn throat is frustrating me to no end. How do I explain that I can't love him as just my daddy, but that he means so much more to me? He's my protector, but I want to be intimate with him.
My thoughts turn to everything he can give me. I want my protector inside me. I want him all over my body. I want his body pressed against mine. I want to wake up smelling like him. I want him to love me more than he ever could seeing me as his own daughter.
Pictures, words. None of that works. Not for daddy. The only thing I can do to convince him is through action.
I drop the board and marker and approach daddy's side. He looks up at me from the chair, and I swing my leg over him, placing my arms on his shoulder and straddling his lap.
Daddy freezes, awed by my bold move. With our main form of communication closed off to us, I need to communicate with my body.
I guide my hands down his shoulders slowly, running my fingertips through the canyons of his muscles. I feel his hesitation, born in the strands of tension. I help him, picking his arms up and laying his hands on my bare thighs below my nightgown. The heat of his hands hits me hard, sending a shiver up my spine. It was so pronounced that I'm sure daddy had to have felt my muscles convulse as well.
Daddy opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly throw a finger in front of it to shush him. The softness of his lips make me remember all the times they've fallen on my cheek. But I don't want his lips on my cheeks; I want them everywhere else instead.
Now isn't the time for words, daddy. All they'll do is get in our way.
Daddy doesn't say anything, but as I pull my hand away from his mouth, his hands shift on my thighs, his fingers bending and kneading my flesh. Daddy's getting a feel for me, and I have a feeling he's not going to need words when he figures it all out.
I run my hand through his beard, feeling the soft bristles poking my palm. He's always taken good care of it, conditioning it so it doesn't stab me when he lays it against me.
When my hand moves up his cheek bone, his own hands mimic mine, moving up my thighs. They slip under my nightie, crossing over my panties, and seizing along my waist. His big hands circle me, giving me a good squeeze as daddy tests my flesh.
