"Sex With Daddy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Stephen A.)

Chapter 4

The change that took place in the relationship between Daddy and me began then. It was a slow and gradual thing that no one could have foreseen! Before, we had been a widower and his adolescent daughter living a normal and respectable life. Now, because of my wild fantasies and childish dreams of romance, everything was to change.

Of course, I couldn't know exactly how Mrs. Bradley felt, but from some of the things that Jan told me over the next month, I formed some sort of an idea. I think she had entertained ideas of marrying Daddy but that she fundamentally didn't want the responsibility of a step-daughter. I also believe she considered my "interruption" a deliberate and premeditated act. She probably began to think that she would never have any privacy with Daddy or that I would hate her forever, after seeing what I had done.

What she said to Daddy before she moved, I don't know, but apparently they agreed not to see one another again.

I honestly don't think that Daddy minded, since I don't believe he had any really deep love for Mrs. Bradley. I'm sure he didn't entertain ideas of getting married again because he was very anxious to finish his work on his master's degree and then go on for his doctorate – and he had a strong sense of responsibility toward me.

As to my relationship with Daddy, before Mrs. Bradley and Jan left I had been the aggressor – acting out the role of the scheming seductress by going out of my way to display my naked blossoming body to Daddy. However, after my "competition" had moved away, a change in our relationship slowly began to take place. This change was so subtle that it was difficult to pin-point the exact moment when I stopped being the aggressor and Daddy took over without either of us ever being aware of what was happening.

After Jan and her mother had departed, Daddy began to spend more time with his books and papers than he ever had before. Sometimes he would even seem slightly despondent and quite irritable; although when he was snappish, he would always apologize and say some-thing about what had been bothering him that day.

Daddy didn't seek out any new female friends, and so we became much closer than we had ever been before. We would study together – and through this closeness I gained a great deal, attaining a level of mental maturity and open-mindedness far beyond my years. I was at all times aware of Daddy's lack of feminine companionship beyond mine. It thrilled me to know that we were living together, working together, studying together – growing closer by the day.

As the weeks went by, he introduced me to real scholarly investigation, as opposed to the memorization of mere facts and dates as taught in the school system. He taught me to reason and to question my reading materials and teachers' statements rather than taking them at face value. Daddy's philosophy was: Never blindly believe anything you read or hear, and only half of what you actually see yourself.

Even though our relationship tended to seem intellectual on the surface, it had become a strong emotional bond of friendship. He still treated me as a daughter – a female who had to be educated and taught – but he also showed me a great deal of affection in a physical way – affection that would have passed unnoticed if I had been a little girl but might have set tongues wagging since I was going on thirteen.

We were always open and free with one another and Daddy became the only true confidant that I could really trust. The so-called generation gap didn't exist with us. He seemed to understand the problems I faced and the way I thought, and everything he said seemed to make complete sense. I felt I could trust him completely with any secret and with any promise.

When I got my first period I got so excited that I called him into the bathroom to see my flow, hoping he would be as excited as I. He took it as a matter of course and told me he would have to go out for some napkins for me. When he came back, I was still so thrilled that I made him help me with the new belt and with the pad. This event brought us even closer.

We used to sit together on the couch in the evening just reading or listening to music. I suppose it was there that the subtleties of seduction first started.

One evening we were on the couch, sitting side by side, listening to a recording of Beethoven's Fifth Piano Concerto Daddy had just bought. We both were totally involved in the music. He had his arm over the top of the couch and I didn't even notice that his fingers had slipped down to my shoulder. I honestly don't believe he did, either.

Feeling warm and wonderful, I snuggled closer to Daddy and somehow his hand dropped so that his fingers were touching my right breast. And then, very gently, his hand was cupping it. Suddenly, gently, his fingers moved away and he reached over to the coffee table for a cigarette.

"Don't go away," I said. "That felt so good."

He cleared his throat, lit the cigarette and leaned back on the couch without looking at me.

"Please, Daddy," I said. "Touch me there again."

"Kitten – " he began, clearing his throat nervously.

"What's the matter, Daddy?"

He was obviously embarrassed. "Nothing," he said. "It's only that – "

"What?" I asked in all innocence.

He took a hard drag on his cigarette, held the inhaled smoke for a long time, then turned to me with a vary strange half-lost look on his face.

"You know," he said at length, "you look almost exactly like your mother. I guess I – "

Again I waited for him to finish. When he did speak again, his voice was tense and low; almost as if he had to force enough volume into it for me to hear him.

"Remember, kitten, a long time ago when you asked me about boys and menses…?"

A strange, unexplained thrill seemed to tingle through me for a second, as if I had been touched by some electrified particle of emotion that hit me for an instant, shivering through me. I nodded my head.

"Well, now you've grown to be such a big girl, I guess I just didn't think."

"About what, Daddy?"

"About… touching you… there… "

"I liked it, Daddy," I said. "Please touch me there again."

He didn't say anything after that, but I could see that he was fighting amp; losing battle within himself. He leaned back on the couch and, still holding the cigarette in his left hand, slipped his arm over my shoulders. Gently, but far more firmly this time, he cupped my right breast. I, in turn, snuggled closer to him and first let my head rest on his chest, then relaxed so that it slid into his lap. Under my right ear I could feel the surge of excitement pushing as his penis grew and throbbed against my cheek.

"Daddy?" I murmured.

"What, kitten?"

The music – strong and dynamic, and sensual beyond belief – was still flooding the room, filling it with an emotion so powerful that it colored every nerve of our feelings.

"Let me sleep in your bed tonight?"

"What?"

"Hold me like this," I said. "Let me sleep in the same bed with you."

He didn't answer for the longest time. I even thought for an instant that he hadn't heard me, but finally, after an agony of his silence and a lifetime of crashing emotion brought by the music, I heard him say, "All right, kitten. All right."

His words were something between a gasp and a sigh as if he were finally facing the fact that whatever fight he was making was hopelessly lost. But, with the loss of it, he seemed to suffer some intense relief.

We sat there listening to records until past ten o'clock. He holding my breast, I pressing against the hardness of his penis under his trousers until finally, after the last record ended, we both got up at the same time.

We brushed our teeth together and where he usually turned toward his room and I toward mine, this night I followed him into the big bedroom. I knew Daddy never slept in pajamas and lately, I had taken to the same practice. The shades in the room were drawn and he turned on the light at the head of the big bed.

Neither of us were in any way self-conscious about slipping out of our clothing. Daddy still had an erection as he stood naked. It frightened me somehow, particularly when he walked over to me, put his arms around me and embraced me standing before the mirror.

I could look into the glass as he did so, and see our naked bodies flattened together. I could feel the warmth of his body flattening my breasts and pressing against my stomach, the hard pressure of his turgid penis pulsating against my stomach.

Gently, he pulled away from our caress and, with one arm around my waist, led me to the bed where we both lay down. I was terribly excited and wanted him to touch me right away, but Daddy was not so overcome with desire that he would forget the tenderness a young girl needs. Gently, he assumed the role, not of a lover but more as an instructor and I, eager to learn – to thrill and be thrilled – became his student.

The light at the head of the bed was still on and, lying on my side, I could see the whole length of Daddy's slim, muscular body as he reclined on his back with the arched curve of his penis pointing up from its soft pillow of pubic hair.

Very slowly he explained how the penis worked and what was most exciting to a man. He showed me the foreskin and the head of his penis and then, with just the finger and thumb of his right hand, he showed me how to move the skin back and forth so that it caused a pleasant sensation.

I still hadn't touched him when he stopped and changed the subject to women. He explained the structure of my vagina to me and told me that sensation there lay in the clitoris as well as inside. Then he reached over and, with his left hand, gently caressed the tiny bit of pubic hair I had. I was terribly excited by this time and my cunt lips were very moist. He had no difficulty parting them slightly and extending his fingers so that one of them gently caressed my throbbing clitoris while the other probed slightly into my slit.

I lay there with my legs spread wide, letting the sensations of Daddy's fingers shoot through me like wonderful waves of shock. I can't even express how good it felt like that.

Then, I felt such burning excitement that I simply closed my eyes and floated in a pink pool of the most intense pleasure I had ever experienced!

I didn't hear all that he was saying, but I remember him mentioning that often women liked it when men used their mouths on them. The words jarred me to a turbulent consciousness and filled my mind with an image of Mrs. Bradley as she had been using her mouth on Daddy. I could feel the electrifying sensations caused by his fingers playing with my most delicate parts. I also had a wild desire to touch his prick again and even – yes – to put it in my mouth the way I had seen it done before.

As he played with me and talked, I tentatively reached out and with shy, somewhat self-conscious fingers touched his rod. Then, when I knew he was not going to withdraw, I clasped my hand around it and, just as he had taught me, moved the silken foreskin back and forth so that it and my hand caressed the head of his organ.

Bolder now, because of my own intense excitement and because I knew that I was exciting him too, I rolled over and, moving my head down, gently kissed the tip of his massive tool.

He let out a little sigh and fell to his back, letting his fingers slip out and away from my sexual area. I kissed the tip of his penis again, this time letting my mouth open slightly so that a tiny bit of the magnificent organ could touch the inside of my lips and rest against my teeth. Still shy, still waiting for any possible negative reaction, I continued this way a little tiny bit at a time, until I held the head of his organ in my mouth and could roll my lips over the foreskin. Then, clamping my lips tight on the skin, I pulled it toward me over the head.

Again Daddy groaned, but I knew he was not in pain – I was giving him pleasure! The very thought of it sent additional waves of sensation through me. Once or twice more, I pulled his foreskin over the head of his penis and let it slip back always while keeping the organ in my mouth. Then I heard Daddy say, "Oh!" as his organ started to twitch.

But then, he pulled his hips away from me and grasped the penis himself as his knees twitched and it seemed that he was having some sort of spasm. I knew he was having an orgasm and it filled me with intense pleasure that I had been the one responsible for it.

He held himself like that for several seconds before he got up and went into the bathroom. I could hear movement in there, then the sound of urinating and finally the flush of the toilet. Finally, he came back and lay beside me on the bed.

I felt cheated at not even being allowed to see his ejaculation. I had actually wanted to feel his coming in my mouth, so I felt doubly cheated.

Daddy lit a cigarette, and we lay there silently immersed in our own thoughts. Finally, feeling resentment at not having achieved the fulfillment I thought was due me, I came right out and asked Daddy if that was all there was to it. He turned to face me, staring for a moment, then put his cigarette out.

"Oh, kitten," he said, "I'm sorry. No, that's not all, not by a long shot… But a man has to wait each time for a while until he is strong again."

"Oh," I said, not quite understanding.

"But don't worry," he said, as he rolled over on his elbow and gently placed two fingers against my urgent clitoris. "That won't be all. You lie back now." Without moving his fingers away, he reached over and snapped out the light.

The room was bathed in a warm silver grey from the moonlight shining in through the shutters. Although I couldn't actually see him, I could spot his outline in the semi-darkness and could sense his presence as his head bent down toward me and his face gently nestled in the silken fur between my legs.

When the tip of his tongue first touched me, all my doubts and worries disappeared. An ecstasy of sound and sensation and color shot through me, tingling every fiber of my being as he gently slipped his tongue into the opening of my vagina and caressed my clitoris.

Involuntarily I raised my knee so that my thigh pressed tight against his cheek. Placing both my hands against the top of his head, with trembling strength I pressed so that his head snuggled even closer to my fervent sexual organs.

An instant – an eternity – I shall never know! Sensations shot through me, burning here, freezing there, electrifying my body and my soul and soaring it on a somewhere-seacoast where it finally crashed in roaring breakers that would drown my entire being.

My orgasm was total. It seemed to rock the entire world and fill me and splash out from me so that I was no longer myself. I was everyone and no one and my entire being was being ripped apart by the softness, yet violence of the explosions.

I gasped and whispered, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," again and again as wave after wave of excruciating pleasure tore through me and, like ripples on a pond, spread out to a soft eternity.

Lying there, trying to catch my breath and collect my thought and emotions, I was overcome by the complete beauty of what had just happened to me. A tiny sob caught in my throat as I relived those precious moments Daddy and I had just shared. My virginal vagina was still deep in the throes of climactic tremors, my thighs still jerking almost imperceptibly, as I noticed that I was pulling Daddy's hair with both my hands. As I lay there quivering deliciously, I wondered if this ecstasy would ever cease.

Daddy had already removed his tongue from between my cunt lips, but his warm, comforting head remained between my legs. Letting go my tight grip on his hair, I smoothed and caressed his tousled head, dreamily wishing this moment would go on forever.

As Daddy righted himself, I snuggled into his arms, pressing my still-tingling body against him, trying to tell him through the pressure just how I felt. I was so happy with my new knowledge of physical pleasures, and knew that I owed it all to Daddy. There was no way for me to know what inner conflicts were battling within his mind; he had seduced me, and his guilt must have been unbearable. But, as I drifted off into the sleep of the innocent, I felt totally pleased with myself, secure in the knowledge that I had seduced Daddy.

At thirteen, it would have been almost impossible for me to understand that Daddy should never have allowed things to reach the point of no return. Had he side-stepped ray normal teenaged advances, I would not have been there, nestled in his amorous arms, relaxing from an orgasm he had produced for me orally. Little did I realize that although Daddy had not raped me physically, he had raped me mentally, as surely as if he had torn the clothes from me and plunged his penis inside me.

As a result of that first traumatically delightful experience, I became totally infatuated with oral sex – both passively and aggressively – as well as completely fascinated by Daddy's penis. My world became a purely sexual one in which my primary desires were to touch Daddy's member and have him touch me… often to the point of indiscretion.

More than anything in the world, I wanted to have his beautiful prick inside my yearning vagina. I knew I had to have it there, and Daddy knew it, too. He had over-stepped the bounds, and there was no turning back for either of us… nor did we want to.