Daughters Are for Fucking Ch. 02

Then before Daddy could collect his thoughts, before could respond, the couple at the end of the balcony unwound their interlinked bodies and, holding hands, headed towards us. Concern flashed across Daddy's handsome face, then he recognized them.

"Hey Carlos, Salma, Jo and I are thinking of calling it a night. You guys ready to go in?"

"Bob, you, you and Jo?"

I reached for Daddy's hand as Mr. Robertson said, "Yes. Jo and I. I know what you're going through, I've been there myself. Trust your gut, Jo and I is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jo, the joy on her face underlining the truth of each word, said, "Mr. Gonzalez, Salma and I have been in love with our Daddy's as long as we remember. Why troll teen-age boys when the handsomest smartest sweetest sexiest guys we know are you? Who would we love, who would love us, half as much?"

Slightly dazed by the sudden turn of events, Daddy turned to me, looking for me to say something, to make it all make sense.

I said, "Daddy, Jo and I have been out with the coolest guys in school just because everyone said we should, and at the end of the evening we wished we'd just stayed home with you. Daddy I love you, you're what I want."

Daddy bit his lower lip, looked at me, and said, "Salma, are you sure?"

"Yes Daddy, I've never been surer."

Mr. Robertson said, "She loves you Carlos and you love her. What do you trust, your and Salma's instincts and desires, or the rule made up by someone you don't know for reasons no one has explained that says you can't."

Daddy wrapped his arm around my shoulder, comforting me, sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his brow wrinkled. We all knew that look, his mind was turning inward. He needed time to think.

Wordlessly, we got in the elevator and although I was elated, I controlled my smile. Daddy hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no. The initial shock hadn't scared him off and when he turned to his rational mind, there could only be one answer. He loved no one, cared about no one as he did me, and knew he never would. He also knew that he'd never find anyone who loved him or cared about him as much as I.

As to those parts of him that were not rational, the primal parts of him, the parts that shone in his eyes when I pressed my body to his, they already knew the answer: daughters are for fucking.

* * * * *

When we stepped out of the elevator Daddy looked to Jo and Mr. Robertson, glowing in each other's company, and said, "How long, how long have you two been together?"

Mr. Robertson said, "It depends on what you mean. After my wife left Jo became, as Salma became for you, the woman in my life; she cooked, cleaned, fussed over me, got me through the black period. Then, when I was ready to re-engage with the world, she got me out of the house. We'd go to dinner or the movies; she'd tell me I was handsome, cuddle with me at night, make me feel loved and special. I grew physically comfortable with her, thinking nothing of her draping an arm or leg over me while we watched a movie or crawling into bed with me at night to talk before she headed for her room. Like you and Salma, Jo and I have been together for years."

Hearing the truth in these words, Daddy reached for my hand.

"Jo started presenting herself to me as a woman, dressing in ways that made it impossible for me not to notice. Salma did the same with you. On Halloween, at the Habitat house, Salma made you see her through the eyes of those young men, made you recognize what those men recognized, that she's an adult, sexually mature, ready and responsible. Once that happened, once you saw her that way, you could never go back.

"If you're asking when Jo and I become physical lovers, remember Jo's birthday? Salma threw a party for Jo the night before she turned eighteen because Josephine insisted on spending her birthday night with me. We came here, danced and, just like Salma, she bought her lips to mine, kissed me, told me she loved me. I kissed her back, full of raging desire, stopped, stammered out an apology.

"Josephine looked at me, her green eyes sparkling, and told me I never needed to apologize, that she was her Daddy's girl, always would be.

"As I listened to her voice I knew that while there was conflict in me, there was none in her. I took comfort in her certainty. We returned to my room, talked awhile, became lovers. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. It will be the best thing that ever happens to you Carlos."

I started to say something, but Jo got there first. "Mr. Gonzales, Daddy and I have been so happy, you will be too. I promise."

I watched Daddy's furrowed brow relax, his eyes soften, and he said, "I'm over thinking this, aren't I Bob? The truth is simple, you and Jo are in love."

"As are you and Salma. And you're right, it's simple. Do you want her?"

"More than I've ever wanted anything."

Jo fished the key card from her small purse, handed it to Daddy, and said, "Why don't you and Salma take your room, Daddy and I will take mine."

* * * * *

I ran the card through the slot; Daddy opened the door for me.

Inside I turned to Daddy. He stopped, looked at me, touched his face, his neck, rubbed his hands together. My normally implacable Daddy was nervous; it was so cute.

I decided to focus on the little things, relieve the tension, so said, "Daddy let me help you," slipped his coat from his shoulders, hung it up, returned, and forearms on his chest, loosened his tie and said, "You wore the tie I bought you."

"I love it Princess."

"Daddy, will I always be your Princess?"

"Of course Salma, you're my forever Princess."

I undid the top button of his shirt, pulled his tie free, hung it with his coat, returned, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it and his tee-shirt off his body, pressed them to my face, buried myself in his scent, set them aside and said, "I love the way you smell. I love snuggling with you at the end of the day, right before your shower, when you smell one-hundred per cent like you."

"I could give up showers."

I said, "Daddy, you're such a guy," kissed his cheek, turned around, said, "Would you unzip me?"

When he hesitated I looked over my shoulder and said, "Consider it a royal command, if necessary."

He said, "As you wish mi'lady," placed a hand on my shoulder, captured my zipper between thumb and forefinger, drew it down. I felt the room's cold air on my back, felt goosebumps erupt on my skin.

As I turned around my dress slid down, displaying more of my substantial cleavage, but still hung from my shoulders and breasts, clinging to my body. It was perfect; it would be sexier if he did not see all of me at once.

Daddy scanned me, up and down, then looked me in the eyes and said, "Y'know Salma, I've barely dated these last few years. I didn't give it much thought, but now I know why. Except for one thing, everything I want in a woman was already here, and tonight we'll do that thing."

I got on my toes, kissed his mouth, told him I loved him. He wrapped his fingers on my forearm, parted his lips, slipped his tongue into my mouth, our tongues entwined and played. Our kiss went on, intensified, his grip on my arm tightened, and when the kiss ended I lay my head on his chest and, my voice trembling with arousal, said, "When I was a little I'd tell the other girls I had the handsomest Daddy. They'd say the same about theirs, but they were silly, their daddies weren't half as handsome as mine. When I got older and said it, they looked at me like I was weird, except for Jo. She understood. Now you do too, now we'll be together."

I stepped back and said, "Would you sit on the bed Daddy, I want to take the rest of your clothes off, I want to see you naked."

He nodded, sat; I knelt, untied his shoes, and, hands trembling in need and anticipation, pulled them off his feet.

I asked him to stand, ran a forefinger on his erection, explored its contours, undid his belt buckle, removed his belt, opened the clasp on his pants, pushed them over his hips, saw his boxers, the ones I'd bought him, considered tearing then off him, but didn't. After all, I wanted Daddy to see me as a woman, not an impulsive girl. Instead I worked his pants down his legs, carried them to the closet, neatly folded and hung them up, which is not easy when your pussy's on fire and your hands shaking with lust and desire. As I did, with a discreet shake of my body I sent my dress slithering to the floor. I stepped out of it, bent over, displaying my behind (I'd worn a thong), heard his sharp intake of breath, hung it in the closet, turned, let him see my full curvy body.

Daddy, eyes sparkling in delight, took in my breasts, full and round, nipples thick, hard, and erect, my stomach, taut and flat, tardied at my red silk panties, stained with undeniable evidence of my arousal, continued down, admiring my stockinged legs and stiletto heels.

With the voice of a daughter seeking her father's approval I said, "You like?"

"Yes, you're beautiful."

I said, "Thank you Daddy," and sauntered back to him. His eyes moved up and down my body, his mouth was open, his breaths deep and steady.

When I arrived I placed my open hand on his chest, tilted my head, kissed his lips, slid my hand to his shoulder, parted my lips, his tongue entered my mouth; I moved my hand to the back of his neck, pulled him into me; our kiss was hard and deep.

When the kiss ended I said, "I love you Daddy, I'm ready to love you as a woman. Are you, are you ready to love me as your partner, your wife?" then, as he said, Yes Princess," I , touched him through his boxers.

"May I take these off?"

"Yes Princess."

I drew them down his body. When the head appeared I circled it with two fingers, rolled the foreskin back, saw a drop of pre-cum, touched it with the flat of my thumb - so thick and creamy - smeared it on his crown, said, "It's beautiful Daddy."

I moved his underpants further down, wrapped my fingers on the shaft. It was warm and hard and soft. I tipped it forward, touched the head to my flat belly, squeezed, felt a drop of pre-cum on my skin, dipped my finger in it and, as he watched, brought it to my mouth and said, "Yum, Daddy, you taste good, strong and salty."

I moved the boxers further down and, for the first time, saw all if it. It was curved, the shaft brown, the head a deep pink, red and blue veins pulsing with blood running up and down it. The scrotum was big, an oversized sac hanging from his body. I went down on one knee, pressed it to my face, enjoying its warmth, loving its smell. I looked up, into Daddy's eyes, flattened my tongue on the underside of the shaft and, starting at the base, dragged it up his length.

Now, I'd never had a boy's thing in my mouth (YUCK!!), but Josephine and I watched plenty of porn, she described sucking her Daddy's cock in lascivious detail, and we'd practiced with her dildo. I knew what to do.

I smiled, stretched my jaw, took the knobby head into my mouth, and ran the tip of my tongue on his crown, into his piss hole, traced the ridge between shaft and head. His dick quivered, leaked pre-cum.

I let him slide from my mouth with a pop, licked my lips, fingered his balls, ran those fingers up his shaft, examining it, enjoying it, pleasing it. When I reached the top I peeled back his foreskin, wrapped my other hand on the shaft, squeezed; a drop of pre-cum trickled out. Looking into his eyes I dragged my tongue on the crown, captured it, savored it, swallowed it, pressed the cock-head to my face, moved it on my cheek, luxuriating in its heat, smell, hardness.

I wondered: how would Daddy, so thick and so hard, fit in my virginal pussy? Jo had told me that when she saw her Daddy's manhood she'd thought the same thing, but told me it would be okay, it would fit perfectly, for Daddy's cock had been made for me and I for it. Daughters, after all, are for fucking.

But there was no hurry. I'd spent years thinking about Daddy's tool, I wanted to study it, smell it, see it, feel it. I frigged it, watched it tremble, the veins on its side glowing as Daddy pumped more blood into it, made it thicker and harder and hotter. The piss-hole dilated, Daddy-juice dripped out. I stretched my jaw again, slipped my mouth over it, swallowed an inch, swallowed another inch, suppressed a gag, breathed through my nose, swallowed two more inches, kept going. He had reached the back of my mouth, but there was still more to go. I knew it was possible to swallow it all; Jo told me she deep-throated her Daddy, said she'd teach me. So someday I would take Daddy down my throat, but it would not be today.

Instead, my face full of cock, I sucked, my cheeks growing concave with the effort, swirled my tongue on his shaft and head, cupped his balls, brought them forward, forced my tongue past my lower lip to lick them. Daddy groaned, ran his fingers through my dark wavy hair, said, "Oh god, Princess, suck it, you make your Daddy feel so good, you make his cock feel so good."

I held his big throbbing testicles in my hand, rolled them between my fingers.

Someday they and I would make a baby.

I pulled down on the base of the shaft, pressed my tongue to its underside, drew my lips up its rigid length, did it again, then again, and again.

"Oh yes Princess, oh yes, just like that."

I turned my focus to the head, holding it in my mouth, tattooing it with my tongue. Pre-cum spilled from it, I looked up, saw the pleasure on Daddy's face, felt the burning need in my sex, knew it was time.

Letting him slip from my mouth with a loud slurp, I moved onto the bed, kissed him, rolled onto my back, covered my panties with my hands and said, "Daddy, before you see it, there is one thing I need to tell you. I wasn't sure how you liked it. Jo shaves hers. I thought about doing that, but if you didn't like it we'd have to wait for it all to grow back. So I trimmed mine. Is that okay?"

Daddy leaned into me, kissed me with the kind of love and affection only a Daddy can, hooked his fingers on the hem of my panties. I raised my butt and, after a brief moment when they clung to my wet sex, he slid my panties down my body. I pulled my knees to my chest so he could work them over my stocking-clad legs and heels.

I spread my legs, showing Daddy my sex.

"It's beautiful Princess, just like you."

He kissed me again, I slipped my arm around him, pressed my fingers into his back, held him to me, our tongues played, danced, curled around each other.

And, as we kissed, we ran our hands over each other's bodies, touched each other in this new way, occasionally stopped, laughed, giggled, smiled, delighting in this amazing wonderful new world.

And I grew hotter and hotter and finally said, "Daddy, I'm ready, I need you" and Daddy moved his body over mine and said, "Are you sure Princess?" and there were tears of joy in my eyes and a big smile on my face and I said, "Yes Daddy," and he lowered his body to mine. I loved the feel of his warm skin and perfect muscles, the way my boobies squashed on his powerful chest, his beating heart. I reached down, wrapped my fingers on it, ran them up and down. It was hard like granite and soft like velvet or silk and I wanted it in me.

Daddy kissed my neck, my mouth, and I thought about his mouth on my breasts. Boys love my titties, stare at them, point at them, giggle to each other about them. They want to touch them and kiss and lick them, but I tell them no. They were for Daddy (and Josephine but that was different, for she was a girl and my BFF and she said when Daddy found out he would be very happy).

"Daddy, kiss my boobies."

Raising himself on his arms, twisting his abdomen, Daddy licked a nipple with the flat of his tongue, pressed it into my breast, watched my breast jiggle as the nipple bounced back into place, turned to the other breast and, starting at the base, licked hard, leaving trails of moisture up the side and across the top, took my nipple into his mouth, sucked it, teased it with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. I covered the back of his head, arched my back, pushed my chest into his mouth. Daddy moved from breast to breast, then pressed my breasts together, licked and sucked and nibbled on my areolas, nipples, all my breasts.

I needed him.

I brought my mouth to Daddy's ear and said, "Daughters are for fucking."

He started to say, "Salma are you...," stopped, saw the look in my eyes, knew the answer.

I said it anyway: "Yes Daddy, I'm sure."

I thought Daddy would just enter me, but he didn't, and for the millionth time I knew I had the perfect lover. Instead Daddy rolled off me, kissed my mouth, pressed the pad of two fingers on my pussy lips, said, "You're very wet."

"Oh Daddy, I'm wet all the time, wanting you."

He spread the wetness around, moved a fingertip inside me.

"Do you play with yourself?"

"Yes Daddy. I play with myself and think about you and come and come and come."

He ran the finger in a circle inside me, not too deep. It felt good.

"Tell me what you do Salma?"

"Well, what I like best is to turn off the lights so it's dark in my room, but not pitch black. I like it when the lights outside come through my window. I bring one of your shirts with me so I can smell you. I put it to my face and breathe in hard and run my fingers up and down my body, imagine you in the pool in your swim trunks, or dressed in one of your handsome suits, or working outside in the yard, your body damp with sweat, and squeeze my boobies and pull on my nipples - they're so sensitive Daddy, sometimes I come just by doing that - and do it over and over. I imagine you're with me and you're naked and I touch my clittie, but I pretend you're touching it, and when I do I feel electricity flow though my body, from my clit to my fingers and toes."

He moved his thumb to my clit — hard and erect like a soldier - said, "Like this?" stroked it.

I'd played with myself plenty of times, but I'd never felt anything so exquisite and perfect and my body shuddered and I squealed, "Eeeeeeeeyyyaaaaakkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeee, oh Daddy, it's so good."

Daddy said, "Tell me how this feels," and slid a second finger inside me and I moaned and he sank them deeper and I moaned again and he moved a third inside me and I moaned, even louder.

His thumb grazed my clit.

"Aaaaannnnnyyyyyyhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I'd never been this turned on.

"Have you ever had anything all the way inside you Princess?"

"No Daddy. I've used a vibrator and lots of my girlfriends swear by their dildos, they say they're better than boys and offer to let me use them, some even offer to use theirs on me, but I say no. Jo and I agree, our hymens are reserved for our Daddy's. She said it will hurt some, but no one would be as gentle and caring as you. She said it's the most perfect feeling in the world when your Daddy breaks your hymen."

He inserted a fourth finger inside me, twisted them, gentle but insistent; I groaned, my pussy spasmed. Knowing I was ready, Daddy moved atop me, held himself up on his arms, and said. "We're going to go nice and slow, tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, and tell me what you're feeling."

"Yes Daddy."

"Put my penis on your pussy Princess."

"Can I call it a cock Daddy?"

"Yes Princess, put Daddy's cock on your pussy. It's time."

I wrapped my fingers around it, nestled it on my vagina. The tip slipped between my pussy lips.

Daddy-cock was ready to enter me.

I said, "Remember Daddy, daughters are for fucking."

He pushed into me, with the gentlest pressure, but unable to control my desire for him I jerked my hips forward, forced the head inside me, winced. He was big. I felt full in a way I'd never felt full before.

I gasped, "Oooohhhh, Daddy, you're so big, mygodyoufillmeup. Oh Daddy, please Daddy, more, I want more."