Daddy's Girl (2 page)

That flustered
him, but he managed to find his voice eventually and muttered,
‘About twelve, I think,’ and I knew then that I had him. I slipped
the dressing gown over my shoulders and sat in front of him naked.
My nipples were sticking out like tent-poles and my pussy was on
fire, I was so turned-on, and he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

I started to
play with my cunt then. Back in those days I didn’t go much for
warm up time and I went straight for the clit, turning round so
that he could get a good look, rubbing at it as hard as you’re
doing to yours just now. I was so horny I came in about two minutes
flat, so hard it made me scream.

He touched me
then, very gently. He just took my hand and sucked each of my
fingers in turn, tasting my fresh little pussy off them, his eyes
closed in a kind of rapture. Finally he spoke. ‘Penny, that was so
beautiful and I know that you want to do it again, but if we go
down this path I can never touch you and you can’t touch me. Is
that clear?’

I just nodded,
I couldn’t speak yet, and he kissed my hand again before letting it
fall on the bedspread, and I felt how hard he was under there.

‘OK, Daddy,’ I
said very quietly, ‘but will you touch yourself for me now?’

I pulled the
bedcover back, very, very slowly before he could answer, and there
was his big beautiful cock, sticking up hard as a rock, the
foreskin all unfurled and his big beautiful head all inflamed with
desire and gluey with pre-cum. He couldn’t have refused if he’d
wanted to, and he really didn’t want to.

I said, ‘Lick
your fingers and stroke your bare cock-head gently, don’t wank it,’
and just hearing his little girl say those words really turned him
on. His cock convulsed and leaped up, getting even bigger, and it
was already pretty big, I can tell you. He was breathing very hard,
his whole body heaving with it, but he wet his fingers and made his
cock all shiny for me, putting lots of spit on there, and finally
started stroking it.

He’d pulled the
foreskin right back to let me see and he was tracing round the rim
of his cock-head, teasing himself like your Mom was doing with her
tongue to the guy in the bathroom, but I knew that he was desperate
to start yanking at it and cum.

I was watching
him very intently, fingering myself slowly as I did it, and I knew
that his eyes were riveted to my pussy the whole time. ‘This has to
be just for me, Daddy,’ I whispered, ‘you can’t think about Mom or
anyone else while you do this, OK?’

He smiled
sadly, then, for the first time, and shook his head. ‘Only for you,
Princess,’ he promised, using the name he’d called me when I was a
kid, ‘will you stand up so that I can see you properly?’

I stood up and
pulled the blanket off him as I did, exposing all of him. Cherry, I
wanted to fuck him so badly, to have him get on top of me and
really slam into me, break me in like a wild horse, but I knew that
he’d never go that far.

I was rubbing
myself really hard by now and I knew that I was going to cum real
soon, but I wanted to bring him off without touching first, so I
turned round to let him see my ass, bent over a bit and stuck it
out for him, then turned back round to face him, pulling my pussy
slit apart so he could see. He was on the edge, teetering on the
brink, and I pushed him over.

‘Will I spread
my legs so you can see my hot little pussy, Daddy?’ I asked, ‘do
you want to see your Princess’ wet little slit, have her spread her
pussy for you, show you her hot little cunt, Daddy…’

He let go his
cock as if it was on fire, but he was already too far gone and
hearing me say ‘cunt’ to him while I pulled my slit about was too
much, and he started to jerk, groaning like a beast in torment, his
whole body convulsing with it as it came out of him like a
waterfall, big thick white spurts of it, all over his belly, making
his pubic hair all wet, and running down his shaft so that his
whole dick glistened…”

“Did you try to
lick it?” Cherry asked, her fingers completely buried in her sweet
ginger pussy.

“I wanted to, I
so-oo wanted to, but I knew he’d freak, so I came for him instead,
hard and long and slow. I was so wet my cum juices were running
down my thighs, and he just stared at me and groaned, his cock
still dry-cumming long after he’d used up everything he had.”

3

“Did you do it
again?”

“Oh yes, all
that summer, and every time we did it he’d say that that had to be
the last time, but we’d still find an excuse to do it again. He
used to like me to strip for him. He’d lie there naked on his bed
and put a record on, usually some sad ballad from his youth, and
I’d strip very slowly and pose for him, putting my foot up on a
chair so that he could see everything, and slowly bring myself off
in front of him, watching his great big cock all the time. I’ve
never done anything more beautiful.”

“What was your
song?” Cherry asked, her face contorted as she hovered on the
brink.

“I’m Not In
Love by 10cc,” Penny replied, her own orgasm imminent, “he loved to
see me naked and touching myself to that one, used to make him cum
like a teenager…”

“I can hear
that in my head now,” Cherry gasped, “and I can see you standing
above him, you lovely little cunt all open and his big hard dick
desperate to fuck the hell out of you… Oh my God, I’m cumming, oh
fuck, I’m cumming, I’m really cumming!”

Her whole body
rocked with the force of it, as she thrust her plump little cunt up
towards the camera lens and Penny felt her own limbs turn to water
as she was engulfed and thrown up upon the waves of her own arousal
and tossed hither and thither as orgasm after orgasm had its way
with her.

4

They lay like
that, cunts throbbing, basking in the after-glow for a full five
minutes before Cherry finally spoke.

“You made all
that up, didn’t you?”

“Every word,”
Penny confessed.

“Bitch, will
you be here again tomorrow night?”

Outside her
apartment the sun had risen and was projecting gold dust-danced
spears through the heavy defences of her thick drapes, and Penny
suddenly felt a new and unfamiliar restlessness in herself.

“I don’t know,
Cherry, I really don’t know,” she said as she stepped gingerly from
her bed and walked naked to the window, throwing open the
drapes.

Letting the
fresh golden light of morning fill up her room once more…

THE POISON PIXIE
FICTION CATALOGUE

The DANNY Quadrilogy by
Chancery Stone

THE DANNY
QUADRILOGY is a huge stylistic achievement, a Jacobean drama on an
epic scale, reaching into realms far darker than anything ever
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fucking your sister are commonplace tragedies.

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Hope House

ISBN
978-0-9567154-3-2

The Jackson Moores have been tilling the land
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dark and sinister secrets for far longer: cancerous secrets, that
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Nemesis comes in the shape of P.C. James
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on his way to commit a crime - or at least to conceal one. This
pivotal moment sets Henderson on a doomed road of infatuation and
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Until now, the Jackson Moores have managed to
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*

DANNY 2.1

Die Schwarze
Engel

ISBN
978-0-9567154-4-9

Die Schwarze
Engel – the mythical black angel of death, of evil, of sorrow. Or
of something darker than all three…

Danny has been
missing for six years, when one night, drunk and confused, Stephen
thinks he sees him reflected in a bar mirror, like an apparition
from the past.

But surely he
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avenging angel. Danny rescuing him from a midnight street in a
sinister, dark car. Danny smelling as sweet as lemons and dressed
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drunken visions can’t be true, can they?

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Vulnerable,
lost, and deep in mourning, Danny is ripe for the picking. But that
shadowy other is ever-present, like an unspoken third, a revenant
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Engel’ real, or just a figment of Danny’s diseased imagination?
And, more importantly, can anyone finally set him free from it?

*

DANNY 2.2

Eilean Mhor

ISBN
978-0-9546115-3-8

Eilean Mhor is
a small island off the West Coast of Scotland, surrounded by ocean
and blessed with long white sandy beaches. It is here Danny sets up
home with his oldest adversary, and greatest friend.

At first all is
wine and roses, glowing sunsets and fun on the beach. But it isn’t
long before old jealousies and ugly frictions start rubbing the
bloom of newfound happiness off Elysium.

First there is
Ewan of the violet eyes and heart-shaped face, idolising Danny and
hero-worshipping the dangerous Jackson Moore charisma. Then there
is Morag, buxom, sweet and keen to replace her unsatisfying local
boyfriend with something hunkier. And then there is Iain – a new
Iain scarily like the old one in the one way Danny fears most: a
cuckoo in the nest determined to steal his life for his own.

DANNY 2.2 is
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offers us a different portrait of the Jackson Moores: happy,
optimistic, even secure. But how long can it last, with hungry
interlopers sneaking in every door, their gaze fixed firmly on
everything Danny holds dear?

More from the Poison
Pixie Fiction Catalogue

Poison Pixie Pulp
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A new series of short,
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SATYRICON

Chancery
Stone

ISBN
978-0-9567154-2-5

Is Elmer Grant
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department store.

Whatever his
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Max
Scratchmann

ISBN
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DELANEY

Are You Our
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