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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: tia.txt (M/f, inc, ped, mast)
Authors name: BunnyGirl (sweetestwitch@aol.com)
Story title : Tia Learns Grown Up Words
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Tia Learns Grown Up Words (M/f, inc, ped, mast)
by BunnyGirl (sweetestwitch@aol.com)
***
Obsessive love and insatiable passion between father and
daughter, this is Tia's beginning.
***
"Daddy... I love you..." lying next to him on my parent's
huge king-size bed, I whispered in my father's ear. He
was pretending to sleep, or perhaps he really had passed
out, due to his - all night boozing - as my mother called
it.
Shaking him incessantly, "Daa-ddy!" I demanded his
attention with a loud whisper. I wanted to be naughty and
make my handsome father feel good again.
The corner of his lip curled up in a smirk, "He's just
playing..." I thought; daddy and I were always playing.
The warm feelings that coursed through my body,
escalated. I wanted to put my hand there, in daddy's
boxers again. I was already addicted to the feeling of
the stiff, warm mass that jerked and got sticky in my
hands when I squeezed it, but I knew I wasn't allowed to
touch it just whenever I wanted to.
Once, while sitting on his lap at a party, I slipped my
hand down to touch his privates. Suddenly he grabbed my
hand, held it tight and stared angrily into my eyes.
Honestly, what did he expect? At the time, I was only
three.
I wasn't sure, but I thought he was playing dead tonight.
I knew my father though, when drunk enough he could
easily fall asleep, leaving me wide awake with hurt
feelings that he didn't love me. I might have been a
little girl, but when it came to my father my feelings
were that of a woman.
Pausing a moment, I gathered up enough courage and
carefully slipped my hand into the opening of his shorts.
My trembling fingers stopped when I touched the warm,
silky patch of hair that totally engulfed my father's
privates, knowing that just a bit lower was the object of
my search. I loved my daddy and loved being so close to
him.
Pulling myself up, I rested my head on his broad, hairy
chest. He wasn't breathing as heavily as he normally did
when sleeping, but it was quite rapid. Lightly, I stroked
circles in the soft, dark curls.
An overwhelming urge, to press my privates against my
daddy's flesh, came over me. I slid my lower body closer
to him and lifted my right leg, to wrap around his.
Cautiously, so not to upset him, I rubbed my "pussy-cat"
against his thigh. The light-blue baby-doll that I wore
specifically for him, bunched to my waist with each
deliberate move I made.
Daddy's mouth opened slightly, my nostrils were instantly
assaulted by the strong, pungency of whiskey, but I was
accustomed to that smell and the way it mingled with his
aftershave and hair grease. I was familiar with his manly
odor, and like any other daughter, who is adored by her
father, I basked in his musky warmth.
He gasped when my tiny fingers brushed around the base of
his "hotdog" and wiggled down to touch his balls. I'd
been so curious about this part of him, most of all I
wanted to see, smell and taste them, but we never had
enough privacy to experiment this way. My mother, three
brothers or two sisters were almost always around.
Bedtime was the only time daddy and I could really love
each other.
On the nights that daddy got home early from work, he
would take my hand and say, "Time to bunk down
Princess... kiss mommy." After a round of goodnight
kisses he'd walk me down the long hallway to their
bedroom.
Tonight, even under his guise of sleep, I was determined
to touch him all over. My baby fingers met the hot,
wrinkled skin of his balls. My breathing deepened - this
was new territory for me.
Propping myself on my fathers stomach, I reached further
down, gently caressed his balls, and heft it's weight in
my small hand. I tried to cup all of it, but abruptly, he
reached down and grabbed my arm. I yelped and froze...
not knowing if he was upset with me for touching him
without permission, but he pulled my hand up a little to
his hotdog. I tried closing my fist around the base, but
it was much, too thick for my tiny, four-year old hand.
Looking up at him, I tried to make out my father's face
in the dark room. Though his eyes were still closed, he
thrust his hips up against my hand.
With a shaky whisper I asked, "Daddy? Want me to rub your
hot-dog?"
Naive, and not sure if he was really asleep, I held my
breath and wondered if he would reply.
He wrapped his muscular arm around my body, turned and
whispered against my neck, "Baby... Daddy's a big man.
You're holding Daddy's cock. Touch it baby... but be
quiet, ok?"
He kissed and licked me, his late-night beard scratched
my neck, but the sensation only intensified my desires.
His hips nearly lifted off the bed, I felt his fat cock
twitch and jerk in my small hand. With as firm a grip I
could make, I stroked daddy's cock the way he taught me.
Squeezing gently, I slowly moved up his stiff shaft, then
I pulled my hand down. Most of the time I fumbled, but
daddy didn't seem to mind. He held me tighter against his
heated mass, his breathing quickened and stuttered.
"Daddy, my pussy-cat feels funny," I whispered in the
dark while still grinding myself against his muscular
thigh.
Between low, muffled moans he said, "Yeah my baby... keep
rubbing your pussy against daddy... I want my princess to
feel good, too."
"Yes daddy," I panted, " but my pussy hurts... it's
burning... and oh! - Wet!"
A bit too loudly I moaned the word wet, because at that
moment my body convulsed, not quite with an orgasm, but a
surge of heated pleasure and pain.
Just then my father breathed, "Yes baby... fuck daddy,"
and pulled my face to his lips, groaning into my mouth.
He slammed his hips up against my hand, wrapped his other
hand around mine and together we pumped his cock quickly
and firmly.
Sucking his tongue, I somehow knew we were kissing to
mask the sounds of our moaning. Daddy shuddered,
stiffened and held his breath. I felt a low vibration
rise from his upper body, he grunted and pulled my head
to his chest. Gradually we slowed the rhythm of pumping
his cock and daddy finally released his grip. I felt the
hot stickiness that I knew meant my daddy felt good. I
lifted my head, searched his eyes and breathed, "Feel
good daddy?"
He replied by gathering me up in his arms and in a gaspy
whisper said, "I love you so much Tia. Daddy's sweet,
little Cherry."
He thoughtfully took my hand and wiped it on his shorts
just as the hallway lights clicked on - someone was
coming. My mother's voice cracked at the doorway, "What's
going on?"
My father held my head down to his chest and whispered
back, "Sshh, she just had a nightmare, it's ok."
Mommy said something about playing too much before
bedtime, and walked away leaving the hallway lights on.
Daddy waited 'til I dozed, before lifting me off of him
to get up and change his shorts. Last things I remember
that night were the sound of lights clicking off and
Daddy slipping back into bed, next to me.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 23