Daddy's Dirty Girl: Bred by My Daddy 4 (taboo breeding sex) (2 page)

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.”

I twisted an arm behind my back, making sure
to push my chest out as much as possible. Ever since the baby came,
insecurities I never had before have started to surface. I worry
that I look worn out, that even though I’m still as slim and trim
as ever, that I don’t look like
me
anymore. The way Peter’s
eyes rest on me – the way my they slide up and down my body – it
takes all that away. He takes away all my fear and all my worries,
and that time wasn’t any different.

Peter crouched down in front of me, brushing
my milky-skinned belly with his fingertips. My bra popped open and
the whole thing fairly rocketed off to one side, revealing one of
my pale, pink-tipped breasts. He stared like he was in a museum,
the way a person gawks at a beautiful statue.

“Just... gorgeous...” he trailed off, running
his hands up my sides. He slipped the still-on half of my bra away
and moved both hands slowly down and back up, making little goose
bumps trickle up my chest and over my shoulders. Before he even
touched me, my nipples were peaked, pebbled and stiff. Already I
wanted him worse than anything in the world.

After another stroke down my side and back
up, my Peter ran a finger along my jawline and between my lips. I
circled with my tongue, and sucked him, imagining that finger was
his cock. Oh how I wanted him to grab my hair, wrench me around and
slam his dick down my throat. I closed my eyes, imagined cum
dribbling out of that big, round tip and over my tongue. Closing my
eyes, I pretended it was happening, that my daddy’s dick was
sliding between my lips and filling my mouth.

Slowly, Peter withdrew the finger and ran it
down my chin, my neck, and between my tits before beginning to draw
long, delicate circles in a spiral up to one of my sweetly aching
nipples. My anticipation and my yearning were so strong that when
he was still two or three circles away from finally brushing
against my pebbling, puckering nipple, just the tiniest hint of his
hand being near made my whole breast prickle with goose bumps.

“Oh my God daddy, please suck it, please,
please suck it,” I begged.

He just smiled.

“Good things, baby girl,” he whispered, “come
to those who wait.”

I could have killed him! Half my body was
covered in goose bumps from all the teasing and the games.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I deserved it for
taunting Peter for all those years with my perky, tight little body
and clothes that barely fit.

Finally, his finger brushed the side of my
nipple.

I sucked a breath and squirmed as he flicked
his slick fingertip across me and wrapped his hand around my other
tit, squeezing and kneading just like I loved. Gently, Peter
crooked his finger around my pink peak, rubbed me, and gave me a
smart pinch.

Starting from right behind my ear, daddy
leaned over and kissed a trail down my neck to my collarbone. Then,
he gave me another gently twisting squeeze and made his way down my
collarbone to where my neck and chest joined. He warmed my skin
with the tip of his tongue, then with his lips. Slowly he made his
way down between my breasts doing the same wonderful thing:
touching me with the end of his tongue, then a sucking kiss.

Down, down, down he went until he got to my
navel, never once letting up the deliciously naughty tit massage.
Peter circled my belly button with his tongue. He pinched my flesh
between his front teeth, pulling just as he did on my nipple. He
kissed down one side of my body to my waist, then back up and
nibbled my belly again before continuing on his path.

Very, very slowly, he continued until his
kisses reached the start of my cleft where he flicked his tongue
out and tasted one of my lips, then the other. A soft moan escaped
his lips, followed by his looking up at me, catching my gaze and
dazzling me with one of his disarming smiles.

“Baby girl, if you could have me do anything
at all, what would it be? Gotta make your first day back to school
special.” He kissed me again and ran his tongue along my slit.
Then, he opened his mouth around my sex, slid his tongue barely in
between my folds and vibrated my already-sopping pussy with soft
moans from the back of his throat.

“Anything,” I managed to eke out between
pleasured sighs as his tongue made my head swim, “anything you want
to do, daddy. Just having you is enough.” That got a grin.

“Anything I want, huh?” He said.

He looked up to see me nod.

“Is it okay if I taste you, and then fuck
you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded again.

“I haven’t had a taste of my princess’s
little pussy for too long. What has it been? A day? Maybe more? Too
long.” He chuckled, and so did I.

Then he reached up and put one finger on my
forehead. He gently pushed me backward until my shoulders and head
relaxed against the carpet. Peter moved deliberately. His finger
bounced down my body. I felt him move his face between my legs,
tiny stubble tickling my thighs.

He did nothing for the time it took me to
draw two breaths. Daddy just let his breath caress my pussy.

Then he kissed twice, softly – one kiss on
either side of my lips – slow and burning.

All at once, he released all the tension in
one explosive movement. His mouth enveloped my cunt, and his
desperate sucking sent a shock of pleasure up my spine.

“Fuck! Oh fuck daddy, yes, yes, right there.
Harder! Yes!” I squealed as Peter ground his face hard between my
legs. His tongue lashed up and down my slit, drawing delicious
little curlicues and making my entire lower body come alive with
tingling energy.

Every time he swirled that tongue in another
slow, almost taunting circle around me without dipping inside, I
squirmed. I tried to wrap my legs around his head, or around his
shoulders, or
anything
to make him tongue fuck me harder,
but nothing worked. He took another slow circle around my cunt,
sucking my sensitive little nib between his lips.

“What time’s your class, baby girl?” He said,
lifting his head from between my legs and taking a breath.

I had no idea why he decided to ask me about
my school schedule
right then
, but looked over at the clock
on our mantle – and it was
our
mantle now. “Ten,” I sucked
in a breath when he circled my clit with a finger, “ten
minutes.”

Peter lifted his face, dragging that tongue
along my slit one last time. He swirled it inside me, then up and
around my button. Just, I think, to make me shudder. He’s
good
at dramatic effect. He sucked his middle finger for a
moment and then slid it down my thigh, teasingly close to my hole.
Painting a line with a mixture of sex juice and saliva, he went up
one side of my sex, and then down the other. Twice, then three
times, always making sure to go
very
close to slipping it
inside me.

Finally, at the same time that he whispered
“ten minutes? Nine now? That’s not very long at all” he twisted his
finger and I felt a tiny little spark between my legs as my opening
stretched ever so slightly to invite him. Goose prickles that his
tongue enticed up on the insides of my thighs turned to an
expectant, excited flush of red. I pushed myself up on my elbows to
watch his finger disappear in my wet, hot little cunt. Peter’s
finger worked deeper – up to the first knuckle – then back out. In
between his movements, I barely had time to draw a breath before
the uncontrollable moaning started to well up from inside me
again.

Achingly slow, he rotated his finger deeper
on each turn. I pushed my hips up off the floor, up against
him.

“Daddy, please, please, please fuck me,
please ram that cock into me so hard your balls bruise my ass.
Don’t make your little girl wait anymore. Don’t make me go off to
school without a raw, worn out pussy. Please, daddy?” I ran my
hands through his hair and gave a little tug so he’d look up at me.
As soon as I caught his gaze, I chewed my lip a little and curled
it in a quirk of a smile.