For as long as I can remember, I've been in love with my daddy.
They say every girl's first crush is her daddy - it's normal, totally innocent. But I'm not 'every girl'. As I grew, it warped from something cute and sweet, to something darker, something much less 'normal'.
Something... forbidden.
I never wanted any of the boys at my school, never lusted after their lanky frames and patchy-bearded faces like other girls in my grade. They weren't repulsive to me, but they certainly could never compare with my Alpha-male Daddy. I remember, on the night of my prom, when my date had arrived at my house to pick me up, the speech Daddy had given the poor boy had gone beyond the shovel-talk; it was more along the lines of 'shotgun-pointed-at-his-face' talk.
I hadn't had eyes for that boy, though. I'd only had eyes for Daddy, and wished he'd been accompanying me to Prom instead. What I wouldn't have given to dance with him, flirt with him, disappear into the shadows of the dancehall and show him exactly how he affected me.
My teenaged years were awkward and pained, but at the end of puberty, I'd blossomed into enough of a beauty to think maybe - just maybe - I could try my hand at seducing my daddy. But he remained unshaken by every attempt at flirting, every blatant display of my skin, every 'accidental' brush of my body on his, every lingering kiss I'd planted on his face, just inches from his lips.
That was, until, my nineteenth birthday, when he'd sent my mom off to a weekend-long spa, and finally gave into my advances, thoroughly ravaging me all night long, ruining me for any other man.
But that's a story for another time.
As it stands right now, it's been an entire fortnight since he last fucked me - a quick tryst in the woods at a family bonfire night - and I'm at my wits' end.
It doesn't help that my mom has started a new job, meaning less late nights and more time for her to skulk around the house. She has no idea what Daddy and I share, and I plan to keep it that way. Not that I care if she's disgusted or horrified - my entire life, she has belittled and bullied me, blaming the birth of me on the lack of career growth she's experienced, and always bitches about Daddy's "cushy" job - but I am scared she'd call the cops, and maybe Daddy would be taken away from me.
I couldn't stand that.
So I play the part of the good girl, saving my pennies for an apartment of my own, where Daddy can come around anytime and use me as he sees fit. My new college is only on the other side of the city, and I'm hoping to be out of this house by the time classes start.
But, right now, mom is fast asleep.
I know Daddy is downstairs watching TV.
Alone.
Now is my chance.
I'm dressed in one of Daddy's old band t-shirts - it's so big on me that it falls to my knees - and nothing else. I want nothing in the way of Daddy having his way with me.
I want to be completely bare for him, like he deserves.
My daddy works hard - harder than mom, harder than anyone I know. He's a firefighter, so he's often on-call. Tonight is a rare night off for him, and I plan on taking full advantage of such a thing. He's a hero to our whole city, and if my body can be his reward for all of his dedication, then I'm happy to service him however he needs.
I creep downstairs, still mindful of mom sleeping behind the closed door of their bedroom, and slowly unravel my dark hair from the plait I went to bed with. Daddy likes to grab fistfuls of my hair, likes to use it as an anchor to fuck himself with me.
Just the thought of my scalp pulled tight like that has my pussy flooding with slick,
my nipples pebbling against the soft cotton of Daddy's shirt.
I round the corner of the living room, and there he is. My sweet daddy, sprawled on the sofa like a king on his throne, his muscular body taking up more room than two average men. His hands are deliciously big, his arms roped with muscles from work, his torso hard and firm. His hair is as thick as ever, though it's streaked with silver.
But his face... God, he truly is the most handsome man I've ever seen.
I lick my lips as I ponder how to approach him. Do I surprise him? Do I tilt his head back over the back of the sofa and kiss him? Do I simply saunter over there and straddle him?
I'm too horny to wait any longer. For two weeks straight, I've been pleasuring myself every night to the thought of Daddy's hands on me, in me. I've used every toy under my bed, but nothing is as good. Nothing compares to my Daddy's touch.
"I know you're there," he rumbles, startling me from my thoughts.
I jump at his voice, and guiltily shuffle over to the sofa. His dark eyes are still on the TV, but I can tell he's not watching it. My throat constricts as he spreads his denim-clad thighs.
"Come on over here, baby girl," he purrs quietly.
Baby girl.
My pussy is hot and soaked now, juices wetting my thighs just from his voice alone. It really isn't fair, how quickly he can turn me into a puddle of goo. No one else has ever had this effect on me, not even porn or erotica.
Just Daddy.
I stand right beside him, my thigh touching his knee, and finally he looks up at me.
My breath catches. Jesus, he's so beautiful. I've always had to contend with other women flirting with Daddy, touching him and throwing themselves at him - from mom, to checkout women, to my school teachers - but he's never looked at any of them the way he looks at me.
Like I'm his whole world.
Like he'd do anything for me.
Like I'm a meal he wants to devour.
I lick my lips again.
"Can't sleep, baby?" he asks.
My voice has somehow deserted me, so I just shake my head in response.
"Hmm," he muses, a smirk playing around his delicious mouth. "Wouldn't be because of all the candy you ate after dinner, would it?"
"Maybe," I concede with a little giggle.
His smirk is replaced with a soft smile. "My sweetheart has a sweet tooth, huh? Incorrigible."
But I'm not here to play games. We've been dancing around each other for a fortnight, both of us knowing exactly what we want but unable to have it. Every time we got too close, my mom would come into the room, or call one of us downstairs, or make enough of a racket to have us jumping apart. At times, I simply considered locking my bedroom and having my way with Daddy, but my mom is so goddamned annoying that she'd probably axe down the door just to nag me.
No, I'm not about to flirt my way into this.
He knows what I want, and so do I.
I bend down until my lips are level with his ear. "You're tastier than any candy, Daddy. Can I suck on you, like I sucked on my lollipop?"
The groan he lets out goes straight to my aching core. When I lean back, his eyes are entirely black, lust as clear as day on his gorgeous face.
"You wanna suck, baby girl?" He languidly unbuckles his belt and scoops his half-hard cock out of his jeans. "Go on, then. Warm my cock like a good girl. Get me nice and hard so Daddy can fill you up."
Fucking hell, his words just fuel the fire inside me.
I all but scramble to my knees before him, blushing when he laughs at my eagerness. I grab his cock - almost as thick and long as my entire forearm, God help me - and immediately suck him into my wanting mouth. He groans again, this time louder and more ragged than before, and I revel in the sound.
I make my daddy happy. I can satisfy him the way no other woman can. I was made just for him.
His hands fist my hair, brushing the strands away from my face so I can suck him down more easily. He scoops it all into a ponytail in one hand, using the grip as a way to guide me up and down his length.
Before long, he's entirely hard on my tongue. I've been training hard to remove my gag reflex, so I'm able to choke most of him into my throat, but it's not easy. Maybe, if he were a more average-sized man, but Daddy is huge in every sense. I find an odd amount of solace in the thickness of his cock in my mouth, choking me, filling my entire world, the taste of him hot and heavy on my tongue.
I use both hands to stroke what my mouth can't reach, earning another broken moan. My drool drips down his length, lubricating my grip, until I'm fucking him with my face and hands like a good girl, exactly how he taught me all those months ago.
I lose track of time. I think it's hours, but it could be minutes. My brain switches off somewhere along the way, and all I can concentrate on is the feel and taste of Daddy, the sure and steady weight of his hands on my skull, the heavy breaths he lets out with every stroke I give him.
"Such a good girl," he whispers down at me. "Fuck, you're so incredible. I can see the bulge of my cock in your throat, baby. I'm so proud of you, training yourself so well."
I rub my thighs together, trying to alleviate the molten need in my core. My clit is throbbing without any stimulation, my slit fattened and ready for cock.
"Next time, Daddy will hang your head over the side of your bed and fuck your face properly, sweetheart. I'll be balls deep in your throat, pound your mouth the same way I pound your cunt."
His voice is getting darker, like the growls of a wild animal - a telltale sign he's on his way to coming down my throat. I want it, I want to swallow it down and show him what a good girl I am. I've drank so much of Daddy's cum that I'm addicted to the taste now. I could go days with just drinking him as sustenance.
But right as I think I'm going to receive a bellyful of hot seed, he pries me off his cock and forces my eyes to meet his. He's panting - as am I - and I want to mewl in need at the sight of him towering over me.
