Good Girl

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She has daddy soothe her after her spanking.
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Wilfu1
Wilfu1
686 Followers

The delicious aroma of onion and garlic simmering away in butter filled my nostrils as soon as I opened the door to my apartment.

I smiled to myself. I loved it when Laura came over unannounced.

"Hey, Sweety," I called, as I disgorged the contents of my pockets on the side table.

"Daddy!" Laura beamed, skipping around the corner from the kitchen and throwing her arms around me.

She pressed her body hard up against mine and buried her head in my chest. I closed my arms around her, feeling her slender frame, and enjoying the delicate contours of her back through her blue spaghetti strap singlet. I kissed the top of her head, and inhaled the tropical scent of her shampoo – coconut and something sweet I couldn't identify.

She craned up to face me, the strands of dirty blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail falling off the sides of her black-framed glasses. I swallowed her smile in a soft kiss on her lips.

"I wasn't expecting you until next weekend." I couldn't hide the delight from my tone.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see you this weekend. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," I replied. "It's all right with your mother?"

Laura hummed a positive response, and turned back to the kitchen. I let my eyes fall to her ass as she padded away across the timber floor. Below that powder blue singlet, her seductive curves were clad in nothing but a tiny pair of white cotton panties.

I exhaled deeply, savouring the vision.

"So what are you cooking?" I asked, as I rounded the other side of the kitchen bench.

"Just a bolognaise. Nothing fancy."

"Smells good," I encouraged. Laura shot me a sweet smile over her shoulder, then returned her attention to the pot on the stove. I lingered a moment, enjoying the view, then announced, "I'll change the sheets for you."

"Thanks," she said, reaching for another ingredient to add to her concoction.

I only had a one bedroom apartment since the divorce. But when I had Laura every second weekend, I would give her my bed, and I would sleep on the sofa bed in the living room. Initially it was about being a gentleman and showing her how a man should treat her. However, as the years passed, and she blossomed into such a beautiful young woman, my noble intentions waned somewhat.

I never changed the sheets after she left. Instead, I would revel in the scent she left behind – her shampoo, her perfume, her musk. Sometimes the smell was particularly earthy around the centre of the bed, which I was convinced was evidence of her masturbating. I loved it.

A few months earlier, when I found a pair of her forgotten panties under the bed, I actually took the day off work to celebrate the discovery. Far from my finest hour, I nearly ripped the head off my cock, while holding Laura's dirty panties to my nose.

I don't know where my perversion came from, and sometimes in those dark moments, I feared I would become one of those freaks who sneak around sniffing bicycle seats. But what gets me through is the thought that it somehow comes from a good place. I just love my daughter so much.

Please, let that be it.

As I finished straightening up the clean doona, the phone rang. I bundled up the dirty sheets, now too far soiled with my own body odour to be worthwhile anymore, and headed out into the living area.

Laura was ignoring the ringing phone, instead pouring over her pasta sauce. I thought that was odd. My teenage daughter would crawl through broken glass to answer a phone.

I cradled the dirty linen in one arm and answered it. Then immediately wished I hadn't.

"Hello, Karen," I finally interjected when my ex-wife took a breath in what turned out to be only the beginning of her tirade.

Holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, I continued on with what I was doing, walking around to the laundry by the front door. She and Laura had had another fight, and judging by the level of her agitation, it was a whopper. I only half listened as I loaded the washing machine and set the cycle running.

I didn't really care what had started this one. Laura was a good girl. She was always well-behaved and respectful, at least with me. In fact, she was the warmest, sweetest, kindest young woman I knew. And Karen, I knew, was a real bitch. Whatever had kicked off this argument was almost certainly my ex-wife's fault.

Karen was whining about how Laura didn't respect her, as I made my way back out to the kitchen. I could only manage to get in grunts of acknowledgement as she banged on and on. Laura, however, was rigid at the stove, doing her absolute best to pretend I wasn't talking to her mother behind her.

"You know, she only wants to stay with you because you're right in the city," Karen spat through the phone.

I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that little chestnut before. Now Laura was eighteen and could go out drinking with her friends, my place in the heart of the city was the perfect crash pad. And that, as far as her mother was concerned, was the only reason Laura had been coming over more and more lately.

The comment was designed to hurt. And that, it did.

She knew she'd landed a painful blow, and went in for more. The accusation that our little daddy's girl had me wrapped around her little finger followed. According to my ex-wife, I was an indulgent parent who was only interested in being Laura's best friend.

"She needs a father," Karen attacked.

"She's got one," I shot back, unable to hold my tongue any longer. I left Laura standing tensely by the stove and closed myself in the bedroom to finish the argument.

"You never step up! You always make me be the bad guy!"

Well, you're so good at it, I thought to myself. She really had no idea what sort of father I was. Nor what sort of man I was, for that matter.

"And I'm the one that has to deal with the consequences," her tone finally shifted from anger to despair.

"Look, I'll take care of it," I said finally after several more minutes of venting. And with that, the conversation was over.

I came back out into the kitchen and hung up the phone. Laura was still over by the stove, stirring the sauce, her shoulders stiff, not looking at me.

"Okay then," I said. "What's your side of it?"

Laura's head shrunk a little into her shoulders, and she kept stirring. She wasn't going to answer me.

I walked around the bench and stood beside her, tilting my head to look at her in profile. Still nothing. So I turned down the sauce to a simmer and took the boiling water off the hot plate, then moved her chin up to face me.

"Well?"

She looked at me above the rim of her glasses, her big blue eyes misting slightly. Her lips were pressed tightly together, then she swallowed before starting her defence.

"All I wanted to do was stay with you this weekend," she began, her voice catching in the back of her throat. "And Mum had to go and be a bitch about it.

"I don't even know why she gives a shit. She's probably just jealous that I want to be with you instead of her."

"What happened?" I kept her on track.

Laura sighed. "She started attacking me, saying I should be studying instead of going out and partying all weekend. I tried to tell her I wasn't going to go out. I just wanted to spend time with you. But she didn't believe me." She started to cry. "Then she called me a slut."

"What?"

Laura broke down and fell into my chest, sobbing. "She said I was just some nightclub skank. And I should have some self-respect."

I handed her the tissues from on top of the fridge, and she took off her glasses to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

"You're not a skank at all, Sweetheart," I reassured her, with a kiss on the forehead.

"Then she started saying that I shouldn't use you like that. Just some crash pad so I could go out whoring."

I scoffed. Laura had gone out with her friends half a dozen or so times when she'd been with me. And on more than a few occasions she had come home blind drunk at two in the morning. But "whoring" couldn't have been a more inaccurate description.

Laura began sobbing again, "She said it was cruel to make you think I wanted to spend time with you. She said you were a loser, and if you didn't live here, I wouldn't want anything to do with you."

I have to admit, hearing that made me feel sick to my stomach. It never ceased to amaze me how little my ex-wife thought of me. And worse still to hear it coming out of my daughter's mouth.

"I just got so angry, Daddy," Laura went on when she was a little more composed. "I told her to fuck off. And she didn't know what she was talking about. I said that I didn't care what she thought, I was going to come over and stay with you."

"And then what happened?" I of course knew more from Karen.

Laura looked down at the floor, unable to hold my gaze.

I lifted her chin gently with my finger. "What happened?" I repeated.

"I was just so angry, Daddy," she pleaded. "She was just so mean to you. She said the most horrible things about you. I just..."

"What happened?" I repeated more firmly.

She swallowed another deep sigh and went on to explain how she had snatched a bottle of red wine from the kitchen bench. Then, as she'd stormed out of the house, she'd poured the wine out on the carpet as she went. The final fuck you to her mother was dropping the empty bottle through the glass coffee table in the lounge, shattering both.

My little girl certainly had panache.

I let her description of how she'd slammed the front door behind her with a venomous string of profanity hang in the air.

"I know it was wrong, Daddy," she murmured after the silence became too much. "I'm sorry. She just made me so angry."

"I know," I said softly. "But you went too far."

Laura swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I really am." She was looking up at me, her dewy blue eyes were saucers, pleading with me.

"This is really starting to become all too common." I took her by the wrist and led her into the bedroom. I let her go when I walked through the door, and sat on the foot of the bed.

Laura remained standing by the door, biting her bottom lip. Her tight blue singlet clung to her body. I swore I could see her nipples jutting out from atop those perky little breasts. But her wringing hands disrupted the view of her white cotton panties.

I sat there looking at her. The muffled sound of the television in the next room wafted through the door, but couldn't mask the sound of her breathing.

When she did finally look up, I patted my lap.

"Oh no. Daddy, please," she whined. "I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Really? What was grown up about that tantrum at your mother's?"

She didn't answer me. Instead she scuffed at the polished floorboards with her bare toe and did whatever she could not to make eye contact with me.

"This has been brewing for a while, Laura. You've been pushing the boundaries with your mum more and more lately." She opened her mouth to speak, but I lifted my hand to stop her. "I know you don't always see eye to eye. I know you're only trying to assert yourself. But you need to do it with respect. She's your mother." For better or worse, I added in my mind.

"But, Daddy..."

"Laura, that's enough," I said evenly. "You know you've been disrespectful. You know you went too far today." My tone became more serious, "I raised you better than that."

Laura closed her eyes, her mouth falling open with a loud sigh. The thick strand of hair that fell down her face swayed in her breath. She knew better than to argue the point. Tentatively, she crept forward towards me, still wringing her hands.

When she reached me, she put one knee up on the bed beside me and began to bend over me.

"Uh-uh," I stopped her. "You can have a bare bottom spanking."

Laura groaned as she stepped back off the bed, paused a moment, almost testing my resolve. Then resigned, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and began tugging them down over her hips.

Is there anything more sexy than the sight of a beautiful young woman peeling off her panties?

I was in awe. The waistband stretched around her curves, collapsing the white cotton into a thin horizontal line across her sex. Her cute little muff of light brown pubic hair came into view, followed by the seductive hint of her pussy lips, then finally that gorgeous little gap between the tops of her thighs.

As she pushed the thin white line down her legs, I kept staring at her pussy, my cock throbbing in my lap. The glimpse of her folds disappeared when she got her panties past her knees, bending over to step out of them. It was then I noticed her breasts in my field of vision, straining against the tight blue singlet. Her nipples were definitely hard.

Leaving her panties in a puddle on the floor, Laura stood up straight and looked into my eyes. She was expressionless, her hands by her sides, gently brushing the outside of her thighs. There was an unsteadiness in her breath, but her body language was impassive.

The sight of my little girl standing there in nothing but a light blue singlet and a sloppy ponytail had my heart racing. I could hear my own breath hitching.

What the fuck was I doing?!

I honestly couldn't tell whether this was about disciplining her, proving something to my ex-wife, or something much more sinister. I was aroused, to be sure, and it was certainly clouding my judgement. I could not take my eyes off her.

Eventually I broke the trance by patting my lap again. She swallowed, then climbed up onto the bed once more, slowly laying across my lap. Her left hip pressed firmly into my aching cock as she settled into position. Her upper body was flat on the bed, with her head resting on her forearms and facing away from me.

I placed my left hand on the small of her back, my thumb hooking under the hem of her singlet. Then I placed my right hand gently on that perfect ass in my lap. My hand spanned across both her luscious cheeks, delighting in the silky smoothness of her skin and the softness of her flesh. I couldn't help but caress her naked backside for a moment. I gently squeezed as I circled my hand around, my cock twitching agonisingly as I went.

I shook myself free from the glorious sensation of the pressure of her hip bone against my member, then raised my right hand from her ass. Laura held her breath. We both did.

I brought my hand down as hard as I could on her left cheek. My palm stung with the blow, the sharp crack giving way to Laura's scream, then whimpers. She buried her face into the doona, her body convulsing in muffled sobs.

I raised my hand again. Her soft flesh was already reddening from the strike. Bringing my hand down once more, this time spanking her right cheek with a stinging crack, she cried out painfully into the doona. And then again, I raised my hand.

I rained down smack after smack, alternating between each of her pinking cheeks. My palm tingled wildly as I lifted it in the air, and my cock throbbed more so against her hip. I ended up spanking her seven times on each cheek.

Without the heart to continue, I laid my hand gently on her bright red ass. The heat coming from it was incredible, if not just the burning sting of my own hand.

Laura wailed into the doona, her whole body shaking with every painful sob. It was then that my heart broke. What had I done to my precious little girl?

I tried to comfort her the best I could, rubbing my left hand up and down her spine. And with my right, I gently caressed her bottom in large clockwise circuits. I cupped her left buttock and slowly slid my hand up over her swollen globe, with my fingertips trailing in the crack of her ass. Then I made my way across the small of her back, before cupping the top of her right cheek and making my way down, this time my thumb sliding through her cleft. And at the bottom, my hand traced the contours of the tops of her thighs to begin the circuit again.

Laura's trembling body eventually stilled. Her sobs fell silent. She lay there taking deep breaths, while I continued to caress her beautiful ass. Then she turned her head to face me, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with tears.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

She pushed herself up onto her knees, sitting back on her feet to my right with a wince.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she whispered.

I gently held both sides of her face and breathed, "It's all right, Sweety. It's over now." I pulled her towards me and planted a soft kiss on her lips. I could taste the salt from her tears. "I love you, Sweetheart. You're such a good girl."

"I love you too, Daddy," she replied softly, with the sweetest of smiles.

"Why don't you call your mum and apologise, hey?"

"Okay," she smiled.

Laura kissed me again, then kicked her feet out from under her and over the edge of the bed. She stood up, lifting her bare ass from the bed, and padded out into the living area to get the phone.

I shamefully sucked air in through my teeth as I saw how red her ass was, and looked away. It was then that I noticed a wet spot on the end of the bed, where she'd been sitting. I gingerly reached out to touch the darker patch of purple on the doona cover. It was definitely wet. I leaned over and smelled it, and as soon as I did, my entire body flushed.

It was the same pungent earthiness I sometimes smelt from her old sheets. Only much stronger. I couldn't help myself, and inhaled deeply through my nose.

My own arousal had left a slimy spot of pre-come at the end of my erection, which had soaked through my pants. And I noticed another spot, just on the inside of my right thigh, where Laura's pussy had been resting during her spanking.

Oh my God, she was wet!

Feelings of guilt about spanking her quickly evaporated. I smiled to myself as I realised that Laura had been turned on by it. I then braced myself for the onslaught of wickedness and impure thoughts that filled my mind. When I could next spank her again, at the forefront.

"Daddy?" Laura's question from the doorway jolted me from my daydream. Thankfully I hadn't been sniffing the wet patch when she came back in.

"What is it, Sweety?"

She was biting her bottom lip and holding her hands behind her back. "My bottom's really sore, Daddy."

"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry. I think there's some moisturising cream with some aloe under the sink in the bathroom. Why don't you grab it, and I'll help you put it on." Bravo, filthy sub-conscious. Couldn't have said it better myself.

"Okay," she smiled brightly, padding off to the ensuite.

With her distracted in the bathroom, I quickly changed out of my clothes, wiping the pre-come from the end of my cock, and throwing on a pair of undies under dark boxers and an over-sized t-shirt. Laura returned and handed me the bottle of moisturiser.

"Lay down on the bed," I instructed gently. "This should help soothe the sting."

She lay down on her stomach, with her arms buried under the pillow and her face on top, looking up at me. I squeezed a big dollop of the cream into my palm and rubbed my hands together to spread it out, then gently cupped her buttocks.

Laura gasped.

"Oh, are you okay?" I asked, afraid I'd hurt her.

"Yeah," she giggled, "It's just really cold."

I sniffed a chuckle myself and continued to gently apply the cream to her perfect ass. I kneaded her soft flesh, tenderly prying apart her cheeks with my thumbs. Each time I did, her puckered little asshole winked up at me along with the soft, glistening folds of her vagina. The glossy sheen of her buttocks covered in lotion was so wonderfully sexy, I couldn't help but sigh in total admiration.

"Mmm, that feels good," she purred, after I'd applied the third handful of lotion.

When the cream no longer provided any lubrication for my strokes, I said, "That should do you." Then without thinking, I bent down and kissed her left cheek. Oh shit! Umm...ahh, "All better."

Wilfu1
Wilfu1
686 Followers