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

When pussy’s gentle squeezing turned wilder, I started to lose control. Peter let out a deep, satisfied groan and I felt his cock swell in my hand and then his cum, slightly warmer than the bathwater, started to flow into my hand. I gripped as far down on his prick as I could and milked from there to his tip. After two strokes, my hands were full of my daddy’s cum. I let his cock slide out of my fists and lifted them to my face, tongue flicking out to taste his orgasm.

All at once, the taste of him, the smell of the bath and the intense, almost desperate grinding between my legs set me off. Warmth flooded my body and escaped in a little gush of sex juice out of me and into the bath. He crushed me against his chest, fingers curling inside, and palm circling my button.

I screamed “Oh daddy! Fuck, yesssss!” before words gave way to grunts, which gave way to hard, fast breaths.

My entire being seemed to come alive, like a light switch flipped on somewhere deep down. All the worry and the tension drained out of me as my muscles tensed and relaxed in quick and hard, then slow and luxurious waves.

I breathed deep and held it as the last pulses of my cum took me, held me, and made me okay.

There, in my daddy’s arms, with both of us glowing from pleasure, I started to doze off. He lifted me out of the tub, dried me off, and carried me to bed.

Chapter Two

As early as I got up, Peter beat me to the punch. After I showered, dressed and checked on the still-sleeping baby, I noticed a laptop bag sitting by the front door.

I wonder if he meant to take that with him wherever he went. But that would mean he was going somewhere, which he never did. Since moving out here, Peter had really taken to his early retirement. All that money he made in the pharmaceutical industry came in handy since he could stay home all day.

Drawing closer, I realized there was a little Post-It stuck to the front. Peter’s unbelievably delicate cursive script immediately jumped out at me. Set off with a decorative “T” that would have been at home on a monk’s scroll, the note said: “This is for you, baby girl. I know you’re nervous about school, but you’re going to do be just as great at this as are you are at everything else. I love you more than anything in the world. Love, Peter.” There was also an arrow on the bottom pointing to the corner of the note.

The back read: “turn around.”

I cocked an eyebrow and expected Peter to jump out with some ridiculous Halloween costume to try and make me scream. I heard a sound behind me, and decided to play with him a little bit.

“You don’t follow instructions very well, baby girl, that note says to turn around.” I could hear the mischief in my daddy’s voice. It was low, almost a growl, he always sounded that way when he was exceptionally proud of himself.

Briefly, I considered turning around and shouting “BOO!” but reconsidered. Suddenly, I realized there was a stir in my belly and a little warmth between my legs. Shooting a glance at the clock by the door, there was a full half-hour before I needed to get out the door to my bus stop. Oh the things I could do to him in thirty minutes...

Instead of turning I backed up. A half-step back, a hand slid around my waist, up under my shirt. Peter moaned close to my ear, sucked a kiss on the back of my neck and pushed his other hand over my belly, down the front of my jeans. Those thick forearms, those strong fingers danced a path all over me. Everywhere they went, a trail of goose bumps followed. His touch was soft, silky, and just a little hungry as he pushed on my sex, his fingertips warm through the small cotton swatch of panty fabric.

“How do you stay so perfect all the time?” Peter purred right before pulling my earlobe between his lips. All I could do was giggle, crane my neck a little and draw a breath as feather-light tingles swept up and down my chest. I stroked my hand on the side of his face, relishing the warmth of his smooth, just-shaved cheek under my palm and the little rasping noises that the stubble around his sideburns made when my fingertips brushed across.

That’s when I felt the bulge against the small of my back.

I snaked my other hand back between us and gasped when I realized that Peter was naked and his cock was half hard against my skin. Heavy, hot and thick, it felt so good to wrap my fist around and squeeze. I milked him in slow tugs until he started to grow. His cock was so big that the way it was laying just then, it ran all the way from the top of my ass just below my shoulder blades. As far up his shaft as I could manage, and then back down, I squeezed, pulled, and then finally tickled my fingers over his prick and down to his balls.

When I touched him, the skin around my daddy’s globes shrunk and he chuckled.

“My little girl’s hands are cold!” He said, as his lips swept from behind one ear, across the nape of my neck, and to the other where he gently sucked my earlobe.

One hand went up my body, fingers curling gently around my nipple and pinching through my bra as the other went slowly downward. He pushed my panties to one side with a gesture and slipped a finger between my folds. What he did seemed a promise that made my whole body ache.

Like he read my mind, Peter circled my pussy one more time, kissed me from behind my ear to the nape of my neck and down to where my low-cut collar started, and then slipped the tip of his middle finger between my folds and just barely inside. The motion he made was so slight, so gentle, that if one of my ‘spots’ wasn’t on my front wall, right near my hole, I wouldn’t even have noticed.

He knew though. The longer time goes on, the more I realize there is nothing about pleasing me that my daddy doesn’t know.

Peter cupped my pussy again, rubbing me, grinding the palm of his hand gently against my clit, and moaning softly in my ear. He pulled me close against his body and I had to let go of his balls to move my arm, but he stroked the smooth underside of his prick against my back and more than anything, I wanted to suck him. I wanted to taste that cock, taste his cum dripping down my throat.

Harder, harder he pushed his hand against me, and his finger inside me until I cried out a little yelp, and he slipped another in beside the first.

Before I knew what was happening, I felt the shirt slip off over my head; my baggy jeans unbutton and slide off my ankles.

“Look at you,” he said, in a hushed tone. “Just look at my princess. How did I ever deserve this?”

An arm hooked behind my knees and another cradled my head as my daddy swept me off my feet, carried me to the middle of the living room where the carpet was softest, and set to work ravishing me.

I watched him slip my panties up my thighs and over my feet, and then toss them in a pile with the rest of my clothes. The way he moved, the lines on his muscular torso catching the early morning sun through the window, captivated me. I just stared as he stood above me, one hand around the base of his cock, stroking himself with a hand covered in my pussy juice. His eyes sparkled as he looked down at me. His gaze devoured my trim, slender body.

“Take off your bra, baby girl. Let me see those tits.” A big grin stretched across his face. “God you’re gorgeous, Liz, I could watch you for hours. Just sit and watch.”

---