Page 4 of Daddy's Little Girl: Bred by My Daddy 3

I reached back behind myself and rubbed the length of his cock with my palm. Up and down, up and down, each time with a little squeeze when I reached the tip. Between the rasp of my hand on hard denim, the sound he made, and the warmth I felt, my playful and slightly naughty lust turned serious.

Grabbing his pants pocket

and pulling him to me, I grinded my daddy’s dick between my legs. A streak of sweet pussy juice behind as I slid up and down his rod. Peter yanked again on my hair, which forced my already wet, slick sex to grind against him. Before long, his bulge grew thicker, harder.

“Oh my God, nothing feels as good as you, daddy,” I cooed as I bent my knees, tilted my hips and worked him deeper between my legs. He slid his hand roughly over my ponytail, down my back and then back up to my chest, under my shirt. A warm blush followed his touch up my body and settled around my breast as he cupped it in his hot, pleasantly rough palm. My hair fell in a cascade across my shoulders.

I reached back and unzipped my daddy’s pants as he unhooked the side of my skirt and slid his fingertips around my hip. His hungry fingers rasped over my pubic hair stubble on the way to my slit. He grunted and shifted his weight, presumably to move that huge cock of his somewhere less painful than straight down his jeans’ leg. I reached inside his open fly and felt as far down his prick as I could.

“Liz, how do you make me so hard? Oh, this hurts! Come on, baby girl, take my cock out. Show me how bad you want me. Show me how much you like it when I fuck you.”

His voice was like velvet against my ear, and I just had to have him. Right then. In my mouth, then my cunt. At that moment, I needed him more than air, or water, or anything else.

Without speaking, I turned to face him. My daddy’s fingers, still sweetly circling and pinching my stiff, leaking nipple, trailed down my body and settled on the top of my skirt before I took his hand and stuck his milk-wet fingers in my mouth.

So that’s what it tastes like. Sweet milk, the salt on my daddy’s fingers.

That taste of myself on my daddy took me a still higher level. My skin prickled. My breath was getting a little harder, more urgent. Heat radiated from between my legs and spread upwards over my shoulders. Our gazes locked, both of us breathing faster, both starting to sweat.

Peter’s hand turned inside my skirt. Two of his fingers opened my folds and the third – his thick middle finger – went between them. He stroked a circle around my hole and dipped playfully inside before pressing his palm to my aching little button and forcing a moaning squeal from my lips.

He dug deeper, rotating his finger into my pussy and curling it inside, tickling a spot on the front of my walls that always makes me squirm, and smiled as I did.

“God, I’m hard, Liz. And it’s all for you, no one else. I don’t care what other people say, what they do. You changed everything for me, and I’m not going anywhere. Understand?” He stroked my cheek with the two fingers I’d just sucked.

He always knew the right things to say. The perfect things to do.

I just nodded and looked up at his eyes.

Then I pushed him backwards, gave him a sly grin, and went to my knees taking his jeans with me.

As soon as his pants dropped below his cock, the big, round tip sprung up and pointed at me. I took the naughty lollipop between both of my palms, squeezing him, massaging his whole length and finally rolling one of his balls around in one hand. While I fondled his sack, I quickly stuck three fingers deep in my soaking pussy then slid my hand up to his tip to get him all nice and slick.

“Daddy,” I whispered, “you’re so hard, so wet. When I slide my little hand up and down you, I imagine you’re fucking me. I imagine this big, thick cock is stretching my little pussy out, drilling me against this washing machine. I imagine my thighs slapping against the metal, one leg thrown over the top of it so I’m spread out wide enough that you can get all the way inside. I imagine your balls thumping against my leg.” I looked up at him for a second, squeezing his cock in my fist and letting my hand slide all the way up before starting over at the base. He was so wet from my sex juice that I didn’t need to jerk.

“I imagine,” I paused to kiss away a little drop of pre-cum as it dribbled, “you gushing inside me, filling me up with all the hot, thick cum you can manage.” Not able to take any more playing around, I slid my tongue underneath his tip and caressed that little place that thrills him, then closed my lips around the ridge at the bottom of my daddy’s dickhead. I pumped harder for a moment, and looked up at him again with my eyes open halfway. After making a lap around him with my tongue, I pulled my mouth off, squeezed him again, letting my hand slide from his balls to his tip as another drop spilled out of my daddy’s perfect cock.

“I imagine,” I opened my eyes wide and spoke so close to his dick that my breath caressed him, “you sucking my tits, little trickles of milk running down your chin. And I imagine you pumping me so full of warm, sticky juice that it drips down my thighs.” I licked him and squeezed his balls harder, just how he liked. “Then I imagine me trying to keep it all in my pussy, holding my hand over my worn out little snatch and feeling your warmth pool up inside me.”

In my hand, his cock was so hard it started to throb. His mouth was half agape, and he had all of his fingers tangled up in the hair that framed my face.

“I...I,” he started to speak before I hushed him with a quick, hard suck.

“I imagine there’s so much that no matter what I do, it oozes out between my fingers, just a little,” I whispered, as I rubbed his tip against my face, “and I imagine that when you’re finished gushing in me, and your cock starts to get a little soft, that you keep sucking my tits, and I pinch my nipples with one hand while I lick all your cum off my fingers.”

The hand around his cock went back between my legs and a gasp escaped as I stuck three fingers inside again and pushed them in and out. I wrapped them back around his twitching cock, glistening with sex.

“Can you... can you do that for me, daddy? Can you make my little dream come true?”

Before I had a chance to get my lips back on him, my daddy, the only man I’ve ever really loved, answered me by lifting me to my feet, shoving one of my legs up on top of the appliance in front of us and stroking the tip of his dick up and down the length of my sopping snatch.

“I can try,” he said, as he braced his weight on one arm, and stretched just the head of his prick inside my sweetly aching hole. The way air whistled between his teeth as his cock slipped inside me was near-musical. It was a kind of high-note symphony accompanied by the pounding percussion of my thighs thumping against the washing machine’s cold metal.

When he pulled back, almost all the way out, and breathed deep, my body yearned for him. I ached for him to fill the void he left inside me with every single thrust. This intensity, this intimacy took my breath way over and over. Even though my daddy was the first man between my legs, I was also sure that he would be the only man who could ever make me feel this taken care of; this secure.

As the ridge around my daddy’s cock head slipped inside my entrance, my pussy swallowed him up and held him fast. He wasn’t going to get away again, not until he pumped me full of that hot liquid I so craved. Reaching behind my splayed out body, I managed to coil two fingers around the base of his cock and grip him tight. He was already wet to the hilt in my sex juice, so he just glided through my hand, which I closed to a fist.

Sliding in, pulling back. This heavenly rhythm continued for a few moments with the heat of his cock first against my palm, then inside my body spreading a radiant energy through me. His pumps, shallow at first, started to get deeper and deeper as his cock hardened even more inside my sex.

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