"Making Daddy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Jack)

Chapter 6

For a moment he was too stunned to move. He was braced over her, his hard cock stabbed between her slim legs, the tip of it already wet and uncorked from the sheath of foreskin, ready for fucking. He had thought it was Nina! A wave of horror washed over him at what he had almost done.

He forced himself away from her naked flesh and dropped back onto the bed, propping himself on one elbow and shaking his head in disbelief.

"My God! Robin! What are you doing here!" His voice rasped from his throat like fingernails on a blackboard. His kid! He'd almost fucked his kid! His face was filmed with cold sweat. He saw her glance at his genitals and he quickly jerked the sheet to cover himself. She tried to smile at him.

"Are you all right, baby?" he asked quickly. He was scared, so scared his guts ached. He'd almost fucked his own kid! He looked at her now, lying there with her nightgown tangled all around her so her baby cunt was open to his sight. His mouth went dry and he looked away. Why the hell wouldn't his prick go down! The goddamn thing was still as hard as tooled steel. He laid his arm across his lap and tried to look as though he had nothing to hide. His fucking cock was sticking up like a flagpole.

"Yes, I'm all right," Robin said in all very small voice. She didn't sound all right, and he peered at her.

"You sure, honey?"

She nodded and bit her lip.

"God, baby, I'm sorry. Christ, I was half-asleep. I didn't-" He couldn't go on and he had to look away again. His cock was still a ramrod and his loins ached. What the hell was the matter with him! He glanced at her again. She looked so damned sweet and innocent lying there. The thin nightgown she wore barely covered her flesh, and he could see the dark patches of her nipples through it. He wished she'd pull down the gown, or cover herself so he couldn't see the smooth, gleaming mound of her pubic area. He didn't have the guts to do it for her. He didn't dare touch her-not the way he still felt. His mind whirled in confusion, and he felt as though he had a colossal hangover.

With guilt, he remembered the girl last night-Francie. Maybe his sleeping brain had been busy with thoughts of her when he tried to mount Robin.

Robin touched his arm… "I'm all right, Daddy, honest." She smiled and he had to offer half a smile in return.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

She licked her lips in a quick nervous gesture and smiled again. "I wasn't feeling so good. Mom and Jodi went to pick up the boys, but I didn't feel good so I went back to bed. Then I felt worse, and I got scared. So I came in here…" She couldn't look at him with the huge lie on her tongue.

He put his hand to her forehead. She felt a little warm but not really feverish. "Where does it hurt, honey?" he asked.

She hesitated, then pressed the palm of her hand to her belly. He frowned, forgetting his own problem as his concern for the child grew.

He touched the naked flesh of the smooth white belly below the line of tan where her shorts and swimsuit ended. She was firm and warm, and he probed his fingers gently at the flesh. Appendix? He poked but she didn't jump.

"Does that hurt?" he questioned.

She shook her head.

"Here?"

"No."

"Here?"

She shook her head. "Down further." The two words were barely a whisper. Would he do it? Would he touch her where she wanted him to touch her? She held her breath and closed her eyes partway, watching him through the narrow slits.

He paused, unsure, yet needing to know. Slowly, his hand moved down on her body. The heat seemed to increase and he couldn't resist the pressure that seemed to grow on his fingers. He was hypnotized by the gentle swelling just above the juncture of her thighs. She was still lying as she'd been when he climbed off her, with her legs spread slightly. He had a spasm of lust as the memory of his hot cockhead against that virgin territory assailed him. He was sweating again, but he couldn't move his hand from her pubic mound. It was so smooth, so incredibly warm and smooth. He felt his fingers twitch, and her body quivered slightly under them.

"This where it hurts?" he asked. He pressed lightly and had to catch his breath as his cock jerked violently with desire. Somewhere deep in his conscience, he knew it was a game, that she wasn't in pain, but he couldn't stop. His hand moved again, over the hump and to the softer flesh of the edge of her labia. She shivered now, and he didn't look up at her. His fingers probed gently at the softer part of the hill of erotic flesh, moving gently and slowly down and toward the crevice that hid her virgin cunt.

"Yes… there… yesss…" Her words were escaping breaths fluttering in the quiet room, hovering between them like a lover's plea.

He swallowed hard. His throat was very dry now and he was having trouble breathing. His lungs were on fire, and his belly was a tight knot of pain. His prick was poking the sheet upward and a small spot of wetness stained the peak of the tented cloth.

She moved, very suddenly, and his hand was between her legs, burning against the hot, damp tissues of her youth. Stan's breath made a harsh sound in his throat and he bent forward before he could get control of himself. He forced himself to pull away from her.

"Oooowww," she moaned in mock pain and closed her eyes.

He looked at her, trying to read the expression on her face, trying to understand what was happening between them. For a few seconds, he could've sworn she was doing this deliberately! He gnawed at his lower lip. That was impossible. She was only a child-ten years old! She wasn't even mature yet! It couldn't be-it simply couldn't be! It had all been in his mind, a product of his conscience about Francie and his horny dreams in the night that followed. He'd wakened with a pee hard, and moved to her without knowing what he was doing. She was just a kid, a lovely little girl who-She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

The tight pain in his chest eased slightly and he breathed again. "You feel better now, baby?"

"A little."

"Well, you'd better get back to your own bed now and maybe you can sleep a little." He had to get her out of here, get away from her before his own pain got any worse. He couldn't believe his own physical feelings at this moment, and he didn't trust himself. And he couldn't get out of bed with the goddamn hard-on he had. He touched her hip lightly and she rolled toward the edge of the bed.

She sat up and the thin nightgown fell over her enticing, smooth crotch. "Daddy?" She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Of course not, baby; why would I be mad?" His voice was creaky and his mouth dry.

"'Cause I came into your bed-"

"No, don't be silly. I just want you to feel better."

She nodded solemnly again and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

"I do feel better now," she said slowly. "Being with you and having you touch me, hold me… that made me feel good."

She got up then and walked slowly across the room before he could react to her words. He watched her until the door closed behind her. Then he sat for several minutes just staring.

His mind raced over the possible meanings of her last words. No, he was being foolish again, reading things into her words that shouldn't be there. It was his own crazy mixed-up lust that was hinting at sexual overtones in what the child said. God, he had to stop thinking these things.

He threw back the sheet and climbed out of bed. His cock was still hard and jutting. He could feel the thick pulse-beat along the length of it, the hard pressure of need in his balls. He had gotten excited being near her-his own daughter, ten years old-and he'd wanted her. He pushed the thought from his mind, refusing to accept it despite his knowledge that it was true. He'd be careful from now on, make sure he wasn't alone with her in situations like this. God, that had been close.

He entered the bathroom and stood over the sink to wash. What would he have done if he had not wakened at the moment he did? Suppose he hadn't realized who it was with him until he had already penetrated her vagina? Suppose he'd realized it was Robin only when he was already at the height of his lust, taking what he wanted, getting his passion spent? Would he have been able to pull out? Would he have wanted to?

He bent over the sink and doused his face with cold water, cupping it in his palms and holding it to his hot face over and over until some of the fever began to dissipate. He had to stop thinking about it. Of course he would have stopped! The shock would have ended any need he had. But he was human…

He finished washing, and sluiced cold water over his cock, which was still struggling with the fullness of its need. He felt the cold, sharp sting of the water, and the shock helped reduce the hard-on. He was all right now, he told himself. He was all right. He opened the medicine cabinet and reached for his toothbrush.

In her own bedroom, Robin sat cross-legged on the bed, facing the bathroom door. She had closed the door to her father's bedroom from the bath but had left the second one to her own room open. She wanted to watch him, to see him. When he entered the bathroom he went right to the sink and held cold water to his face. She could see his hard cock jutting between his legs as he bent over the basin, and she licked her lips. The memory of that hard, hot tool on her flesh made her shiver with delight. Oh, why had he wakened when he did! Another minute and she would've known what it felt like to be fucked! He had been all set to push right up into her cunt, when he saw who it was. Another minute … and she would have known what it was like to be a woman. Would it hurt, that first time? She had felt the tight pressure even in the very small partial penetration he'd begun. Would she have had an orgasm right away? She wondered how long it took, what an orgasm really felt like.

She sighed. Well, she'd almost gotten him. And she had seen the look in his eyes, the dazed expression on his face. He had wanted her. She knew it just as surely as she knew she wanted him. She knew, too, that she would try again. She had to succeed.

Her belly ached with a hungry gnawing pressure that was like a glowing fire inside her. Her thighs were damp and sticky where the juices that had run out of her were drying. Some of it had come from his penis, too. She shivered again at the thought of the hot wet head touching her leg, her labia.

In the bathroom, she watched him splash water on his still-hard cock.

He couldn't get it down. That made her smile. He did want her-she had made him sexy. He began to brush his teeth.

She stared in fascination at his genitals as he peered in the mirror and finished brushing his teeth. He hadn't looked toward her door yet, so he didn't know she was watching. She had to smile at the insistent pressure that filled his cock. It pleased her to think she had done that to him, and it made her nice and warm in her belly to think she would soon have him. She wasn't going to give up. Next time she would be more aggressive, more demanding. She had to admit to herself now that she had been plenty scared. But she wouldn't be next time. She knew now that he would not get angry with her and throw her out, push her away. She could excite him, and next time she would do it more fervently, so much so that he would not be able to stop and try to ease his pain with cold water!

He shut off the taps and turned to the toilet. He had to push his stiff prick down in order to urinate, and Robin watched in absolute fascination. When he was done, she saw that hard-on had vanished finally, and the long cock hung limply over his heavy red balls. He turned back to the sink then.

With a sudden movement as though he had just glimpsed the open door, he whirled to stare right into her eyes. For a moment the house was silent as the father and daughter looked at each other across the two rooms.

Outside, a bird trilled a song somewhere high in the trees over the cabin. A vagrant breeze rustled the leaves of the aspen in a soft, whispering cry. On the lake, a distant motor hummed as a boat trailed a white wake behind it.

They stared across the space. Stan felt the swift knife pain slash his loins, felt the quick involuntary jerk of his cock as it began to come alive again. He realized he was holding his breath. Before he could change his mind, he turned and went quickly back into his own bedroom, closing the door and slipping the lock carefully. He leaned against the panel and let his breath out in a long, slow sigh.

In her bedroom, Robin saw him leave, saw the door close, heard the snap of the bolt. She smiled. It wouldn't be nearly as hard as she'd thought. Next time. Soon. She pressed her damp thighs together and wrapped her arms over her breasts. She wouldn't be a virgin much longer.