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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: tia2.txt (Mf, inc, ped)
Authors name: BunnyGirl (sweetestwitch@aol.com)
Story title : Tia II: More Than Just a Daddy
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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 II: More Than Just a Daddy (Mf, inc, ped)
by BunnyGirl (sweetestwitch@aol.com)
***
Obsessive love and insatiable passion between father and
daughter. These are added parts, two and three, of Tia's
beginning.
***
I spent as much time as I could with my daddy. Being the
baby of six, there wasn't much time my mother could
devote to me. That was all right though, I did love my
mother when I was little, but my daddy was so much more
than just a father, he was my buddy.
I'd wait, not so patiently, for him to come home in the
early afternoon between jobs, to shower and have his
dinner. Sometimes my mom would argue with him almost as
soon as he got through the door, other times he'd slip
past her, pick me up and sneak me away to the bedroom for
our hello kisses.
Our play kisses were more like tongue fights. He'd slowly
bring his face close to mine, pretended he was going to
give me a regular peck, but he'd always stick his tongue
out and lick my neck, cheeks or lips. I'd burst into
giggles and tried to do it back to him.
Depending if we were alone, he'd sometimes push his hands
under my blouse and rub his thumbs over my puffy, little
nipples while kissing my lips. I liked sucking his tongue
when he touched me like that, especially when he sat me
on his lap. I'd wrap my legs tight around his and push my
little pussy into his thigh; daddy loved when I did that,
too.
To me, Daddy was the most handsome man alive. He was fair
complected, but during our summer vacations he'd tan to a
beautiful golden-bronze. He was rather tall at six feet
with broad shoulders, dark wavy hair and the most
gorgeous hazel eyes that turned speckled-green or grey-
blue, depending on his mood. He was on the heavy side and
big boned; that's probably why I love larger, strong men,
today. I loved the way he crushed me in his giant arms,
against his powerful body.
I have my mom's French, Tahitian features. Full lips,
wide, golden-brown eyes, but they flash green like my
father's when I get mad. I've always had a shapely
figure, compared to other little girls my age. Rounded
hips, distinct puffiness of breasts with large, dark pink
ringlets around defined nipples. I kept my wavy, gold-
streaked hair, long for hula.
On some weekends, Daddy and I would lounge in bed
together. As soon as mom would leave the room he'd tell
me about his past work-week, or stories about his
childhood and he'd always confide how much he loved me;
so much more than he loved mommy. He'd tell me she didn't
love him, and could never love him, the way I do.
Mom was mean to him, treating him like he was stupid and
immature, but daddy always held two jobs and kept our
family wealthy. Mom never needed of anything.
After we talked and held each other for a while, he'd
gaze into my eyes and kiss me. Sometimes he'd lift my
baby-dolls and touch my breasts or place his hand between
my inner thighs, just against my pussy. Not until I was
almost five, did my father actually make contact with my
bare pussy.
Tia III: The First Taste
"I'm gonna tickle you!" my father pounced on me, causing
the big bed to squeak and shake.
"No Daddy! Not anymore!" I laughed so hard and so much
that my cheeks and sides hurt.
He tickled me unrelentingly; I kicked, wiggled and
slapped, but my father only held me down tighter. I
gasped for air and begged him to stop, but daddy grabbed
my thighs and dragged me down the bed; my dress rolled-up
under me to my small, budding breasts. He knelt on the
floor with his upper body draped over my legs. I screamed
with hysterical laughter when his thick five o'clock
shadow grazed my inner thighs.
"Does that tickle? Huh-huh?" he taunted while rubbing his
chin between my thighs.
"Yes!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs and pushed my
hips up off the bed.
Trying to get away from him was useless, the man was a
mountain compared to me, but I did manage to wrestle one
leg out from his iron grip.
"Oh, you think you can get away from me, huh, huh? Trying
to get away from your daddy? Never! Muwah-hahahaha!" with
that, he sat back on his heels, grabbed my ankles and
pressed the soles of my feet to his shadowed chin and
sniffed them.
"Eeew! You got stinky feet!" he pulled his face away and
wrinkled his nose, pretending to choke and gasp.
"Not! I don't!" I laughed and cried at the same time.
He brought my feet to his nose, inhaled deeply and jerked
his face away again. "EW! Your feet stink worse than
mine!"
I felt a tinge of anger and embarrassment rise, I don't
like being 'stinky' especially to my daddy.
"My feet do not stink, daddy!" I scolded.
He just laughed and said, "But I know what does stink."
Red faced, from exuberant laughing, and now a little
anger and embarrassment, I quipped, "Your belly button!"
My dad laughed so hard I thought he was gonna choke.
"You're my little Cherry alright!"
I loved when he called me that; he nicknamed me Cherry
because at restaurants, instead of my dinner, I'd eat all
the little maraschino cherries they put in my soda.
His laughter was contagious; even though tears streamed
down my face, and my tummy felt it would split from
howling.
"What daddy? What stinks?" I boldly asked.
His hazel eyes twinkled up at me, he placed his thumbs on
my inner thighs and spread them apart. The mood suddenly
turned more serious, our laughter faded. The room quieted
so much, I heard my wet pussy lips separate when he
opened my legs. My father looked down at my pink and
blue, flower-print panties, and slowly lowered his face.
Pressing his nose to my panties, he breathed in deeply,
looked up with glazed eyes and almost whispered,
"There... it's stinky there."
Again I protested, and felt humiliated; the last thing I
wanted was to have a stinky pussy. Again, Daddy bent and
placed his nose right on my crotch. He lingered a little
longer, but instead of wiggling away, I stayed in place.
I knew then that daddy wasn't being serious about me
being smelly there.
Still, he pulled away and said, "Stinky!" Then his voice
dropped, "Smells like... pee-pee."
My pussy throbbed, he lowered his chin and wiggled it
side to side against my little button. I felt the
spikiness of his afternoon beard pierce through my
panties and scratch against my outer and inner pussy
lips; it both hurt and aroused me.
I stuttered breathily and challenged him, "N-no daddy...
it doesn't smell like pee-pee."
He said, "Let me get a better sniff."
That's exactly what I'd hoped for.
His thick fingers traced the inner slit of my pussy, he
looked up at me and whispered, "You're wet princess...."
he licked his lips and looked down again.
Each time his large finger past over my little clit, my
hips bucked wildly. He lightly brushed his finger down to
my small, virgin hole. I felt him push at my panties, his
finger pressed hard against my tightness, the sensation
triggered a gasp and shudder from me.
"Is that pee-pee my baby?" he released the pressure.
Quietly I said no, and sighed deeply. I knew daddy was
about to do something.
His fingers snuck in the crotch of my panties and tugged
it to the side. His other hand gingerly opened my fleshy
outer lips, his lips quivered slightly, he jerked his
hips against the edge of the bed and moaned.
A warm trickle seeped down to the crack of my butt. Daddy
gasped, bent his head and sniffed again, his nose touched
my inner lips. My body trembled, intense heat and
pleasure stirred in my tummy and between my legs, more
than when I rubbed myself against him.
He looked up into my eyes, smiled and said, "You're right
baby, you don't stink here. You smell fucking
incredible."
His fingers slid the length of my smooth, virgin pussy. I
threw my head to the side, bucked my hips up to my
father's face and moaned with the overwhelming pleasure
he aroused in my young body.
"I better make sure it doesn't... taste... like pee-pee,"
his voice was a low whisper and very deep.
I looked down and watched my daddy's face descend on my
pussy again. His head tilted slightly, he kissed my pussy
and smothered it with his face. I felt him suck my outer
lips, his tongue dove between my inner lips.
I couldn't control the intense sensations building inside
of me, and couldn't hold back the grunts and cries coming
from my throat. His hand gently squeezed and flicked my
right nipple on its way up to my mouth. He slipped a
finger through my lips, I knew he wanted me to quiet
down, but I just couldn't.
The pleasure turned to pain; my young, immature body
wasn't ready for such stimulation. I sucked his finger
hard, but when his tongue swirled up to my little button,
I lost myself. He drove his body against the bed like he
did when his cock was in my hands. I reached down and
pulled his hair.
"Ooo daddy!" I tried pushing him away and closing my
legs, tried turning to my side to escape, I tried
desperately to stop him - instinctually I bit down on his
finger.
"Ai!" he yelled and dragged his finger through my teeth.
His suction on my pussy broke, I spilled into little
whimpers and tears while cupping my tormented pussy.
"It - it - hurt - daddy!" I chastised.
Spasms ripped through my insides and all over my fevered,
tender body. The sensations we're confused; a feeling of
pain but also immeasurable pleasure.
He crawled on the bed, held me tight, nearly crushing me.
"I'm sorry baby... I didn't mean to hurt you," he
whimpered, held me, and stroked my hair.
"I'm so sorry princess, I promise not to do that again."
Afraid that I hurt my daddy by scolding him, and that he
would never be so intimate with me again, I blurted, "But
it didn't really hurt."
Tremors still raked my aching pussy, warm liquid oozed
down my butt crack.
Breathlessly I said, "It was nice" and added "but hurt
too" just to be sure he understood how I felt.
"But, did you like it baby?" he combed my soft, wavy hair
with his fingers. "Big ladies like that you know," he
snuggled his face into the side of my neck.
Jealousy swept over me. I thought, 'How does my daddy
know other ladies like that?!'
Refusing to be out done by older, or just other ladies -
period - I demurely said, "But daddy, I'm a big lady... I
promise I won't tell you to stop next time."
I turned on my side to face him, pushed my finger against
the deep cleft of his chin and smiled into his sparkling
eyes, "You made me feel good, Daddy."
He smiled and pulled me on top of him. Our faces met, we
kissed, passionately. Our tongues touched and we sucked
on each other for what seemed an eternity. I did want
more, now that the pain and sensitivity subsided, but it
was too late... the telltale, floorboard creak in the
hallway, told us someone was headed our way.
Daddy lifted me off of him, bounced me down on the bed
and bolted up in a stiff, sitting position. He reached
for a pillow and pulled it over his lap, just as mother
opened the bedroom door. I sat up next to him, tugged
down on my dress, and brushed the hair out of my face.
My brothers and sisters knew not to disturb daddy and me
when we were playing. No one really did, only mommy would
walk in occasionally to tell us to "keep it down" or yell
at me for sounding like a "banshee."
This time her eyes darted back and forth from me to
daddy, finally settling her eyes on him. Daddy's hair was
a mess, his face and neck were bright red and he seemed
out of breath and dry mouthed.
Mom asked, in a very dry tone, "What are you doing?"
Immediately sensing something was wrong, I got to my
feet, jumped on the bed and yelled, "Playing!" hoping to
distract her thoughts.
I continued jumping, "Boing-boing-boing!" until daddy
pulled me down and scolded, "I told you to calm down,
Tia!"
I glared snobbishly at my mom and said, "Yeah, daddy said
I have azama... listen...." I faked a wheeze.
Whatever I did, seemed to work, it changed my mother's
expression. She shook her head, rolled her eyes and said,
"I don't know who the kid is anymore."
She rummaged through her dresser, dad and I shot a look
at each other. He swallowed hard, wiped his face and
smoothed down his hair; he looked nervous. When mother
left the room he got up, grabbed another pair of shorts
and went to the bathroom. As he walked past, I noticed a
large spot on his khaki shorts.
Appreciations:
Thank you Sir, for opening a new world, Your world, to
me.
A special thanks to my biggest fan, my father-in-law, who
unwaveringly continues to motivate and inspire. My
deepest gratitude to my husband, who encourages and
allows me to write.
And a very warm and heartfelt thank you to The Kristen
Archive and Kristen's readers. Without your continued
devotion and effort, there wouldn't be a free vehicle for
writers of erotica to share their stories, and no one to
share them with. ~Bunny
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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