Author: Dayvid Notellin (email@example.com)
Title: Cici Sees 1
Part: Part 1
Summary: When Cici sees something, daddy has to explain.
Keywords: MF, Mf, voy, exhib, mast
"Daddy? Can you come here a minutes?"
I sighed, putting my book down on the bed, open to my page. My wife hates it when I do that, claiming it ruins the spine. But hey, paperbacks are made for reading, not for passing down from generation to generation. So in addition to that, I also folded pages over to mark my place - just to piss her off a little more.
Since she had her modelling gig in New York that week, I was stuck home with the kid. Not that I minded much, Cici was a delight, usually, and I was way overdue for some time off anyway. But I didn't really enjoy having my reading time interrupted. It was after ten, and she should have been asleep anyway. When I was eight, I never got to stay up past eight. But Cici's bedtime was nine. Still, it was ten and she should be conked out by now.
Stopping for a glass of water on the assumption that that's what she wanted, I entered her room. "What's up kiddo? Need some water?" I handed her the glass, and she dutifully took a sip, then set it on her nightstand.
"Thanks daddy," she said, brushing some stray strands of long strawberry blonde hair from her face. It was a constant battle for her, but I'd only made the mistake of suggesting she cut it to her mother once. The tirade that had followed made it clear that, in her opinion, little girls should have hair flowing down to their butts. So that's what Cici had. I did have to admit it was cute, but it still seemed like a lot of work. "Can I ast you sumthin'" she asked in her sweet little voice. I knew she was playing me. She could speak clear as a bell, but she knew a touch of lisp and a touch of baby talk would grease daddy's mood and increase the chance of getting her way - whatever it was. Whoever said kids are naive was a fool. They're clever, shrewd little manipulators of the highest caliber.
"Sure sweet heart," I said, sitting down beside her on the bed and beginning to tuck her in out of habit. "What's on your mind? You didn't have a bad dream or something?"
"Huh uh. I was jus' wunnerin' what they were doin'," she said, pointing at her window.
One of the perks of making good money and having a nice position is that you can afford better apartments. Usually that meant higher up, with a better view. Naturally the master bedroom had the best view, other than the living room of course, so her bedroom window faced another apartment complex. I looked out, and most of the windows were dark, of course, and most of the rest had the curtains or shades drawn. But there was one almost directly in her sight with the lights on and the curtains wide. Inside was a large bedroom, with a large bed, and a couple going at it like a couple of minks, out in the open where God and the world could see.
They looked to be a young couple, both in good shape; his only moderately muscular, hers petite. As I watched, they rolled over, shifting from missionary to cowgirl. She looked really lovely bounding up and down on him. That's one of the nice things about small breasts - they just jiggle so sweetly when the woman's on top!
I rolled my eyes, looking down at my daughter. With a model for a mother, she had more than adequate opportunity to learn about sex. Hell, these days, all kids did. When I was a kid, I knew all about sex by the time I was her age - or thought I did. If I'd had the internet to work with, I'd have had all the info I wanted, instead of having to get it from the streets and figure out what was true and what was bullshit. So I knew that Cici knew damned well what they were doing.
"You know what they're doing honey," I chided her. "They're having sex."
It was her turn to roll her eyes at me. "I know that daddy. I mean, why they doin' it 'front of the windows? Issn't sex s'posed to be private? You an' mommy don' do it 'front of the windows, do you?"
"Of course not baby girl," I fibbed. Charlie was a model, and one of the defining characteristics of a model is an exhibitionistic streak. So while we didn't do it 'on display', as it were, all the time, we'd done it that way more than a few times. It was always a real turn-on for her, and her being turned on like that meant a great fuck for me. So who was I to complain? Besides, having other guys yearning for her was another thrill for me. They all wanted her, but few would get her, and only I would take her home.
"I don' think they forgot," Cici went on. I noticed she was still watching. That was a little disturbing. Should an eight year old girl be watching people fucking? Should I stop her? Well hell, it wasn't like she couldn't see it on the webs whenever she wanted. Being connected to the IT industry, I was all too aware how easy it was to circumvent 'parental controls', so I'd never bothered putting them in place, instead making sure we were well protected with firewalls, antivirus, antimalware, and regular coaching on safe computing practices.
"No?" I queried, "Why not?"
"'Cos the curtains were
closed when they started," she answered simply enough. "They did it a
few nights ago too, but the lights was dimmer an the bed wasn't right by the window." She giggled. "I
fink they wants to be seen!"
"You're probably right honey," I agreed. "They're likely exhibitionists, and get aroused by being watched."
She nodded, as if she knew what that meant. Perhaps she did. She was still watching. So was I. The couple were really having a good time, and they appeared to be looking out the window from time to time. I wondered if others in our building were watching them.
"What's the other thing - the thing where peeps wanna watch?" Cici asked.
"Voyeurism honey," I answered. Might as well be up front - she obviously knew about it even if she didn't know the word. "I think it's a French."
She nodded. "How do you know if you're a voyeur daddy?" Her eyes were still locked on that couple.
While I believe it's best to be open and honest with kids, I was getting a little uncomfortable with her line of questioning. It seemed to be that Charlie should be the one talking to Cici about this sort of thing. But of course, Charlie wasn't around. And besides, Cici almost always came to me with her questions. What the hell, might was well try to explain it.
"Well honey, I think the definition of a voyeur is pretty much just someone who gets aroused watching other people have sex."
"Like porn?" she asked.
"Ummm... Yeah, I suppose. Except pretty much everyone watches porn and that doesn't make them voyeurs. I think a voyeur prefers it live, and maybe secret. Like... well like us watching them. They don't really KNOW we're watching them. A porn star always knows they're being watched. Plus, porn stars don't really get off on it - it's just a job to them. For the most part anyway. That's why they're called porn ACTORS, after all."
She chewed on that for a while before asking, "Daddy, is it wrong to be a voyeur?"
Well that was an odd question. "I don't think so honey. Not unless it's carried to extremes anyway. Like a Peeping Tom."
"Uh, it's a voyeur who sneaks around peeking into windows and stuff to get their jollies. Often they also masturbate as well."
"Like we're doing, looking into their window?"
"Not quite honey. They left their window wide open for all to see. Pretty much an invitation. A Peeping Tom is more like someone who sneaks around in neighborhoods, peeking under the blinds or through the cracks in closed curtains."
She was silent for a long time, and I could see why. The couple had changed positions again. The man was still on his back, but she'd dismounted and slid down, kissing her way down to where his cock stood proudly erect. She began to lick and suck on his cock, even deep-throating him. She must have some talent, because the guy was certainly more than a mouthful.
I watched for a few minutes, appreciating her skills and filing the imagery away for later recall. It would be great wanking material. I thought Cici was going to ask another question as I heard her inhale, but no question came forth, so I looked over at her.
Have you ever seen an eight year old girl enraptured by watching a couple fucking? That's what I saw then, and let me tell you, my cock went from semi- to fully-erect in about 1.8 seconds. Her eyes were half-closed, her cheeks were flushed, and there was the purest look of lust I have ever witnessed on her face. Not the kinky, dirty lust we see every day. Hers was pure, innocent, and raw. Not innocent as in the usual definition, but innocent as in, zero guilt. She didn't think there was anything wrong with it at all. It was beautiful in a way that defies description.
Me however, I felt guilt. I felt guilt up to my eyeballs. Her arousal was a palpable force, and my body responded to it despite the fact that she was my eight year old daughter. The fact that her panting was in perfect time with a motion I now saw under the blankets, where her hand was surely touching her little cunny was no excuse for my unholy desire - but it certainly did nothing to dampen it!
My mind went from the sex across the street to the masturbation going on less than a foot away, and in my mind, I could see her delicate little fingers touching her bare little pussy. I felt like I should be doing something to stop her, but the debate never even took place in my mind. First because I thought it was the sexiest thing ever - way sexier than the couple fucking in plain sight across the street, and second because she so obviously didn't think she was doing anything wrong. The last thing I wanted was to give her any sexual hang-ups!
I knew I should leave the room and let her finish in private, but it was like a magnet kept me there, sitting still, watching her, seeing her hand move under the blankets. I was transfixed. Mesmerized. Unable to do a thing. So aroused that a side track of my brain worried about me cumming in my pants. My eyes were glued to the movement under the blankets until I heard her gasp in that sweet little-girl voice and her legs began to tremble. I looked up to her face and found that she wasn't watching the couple across the way anymore - she was watching me watching her!
The second our eyes met, she cried out and her body shook and jerked with an undeniable orgasm. The sight was incredible. I practically felt her pleasure travelling through our locked eyes. It was intense! I didn't know a man could become too aroused to cum, but I think that was what happened. We remained there, our eyes locked as her climax continued, peaked, and ebbed, and finally with a full body shudder, she finished.
There wasn't really anything else I could do. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Honey, that was beautiful. You really enjoyed that, didn't you? I guess you must be a voyeur!"
She smiled with that look of utter contentment that comes only after a mind-blowing climax. Her eyes were dreamy and soft as she looked at me. "An' a exbish-in-ist too daddy."
"I'll be right back honey," I smiled and got up to get a towel for her. I didn't know if little girls got wet or not, but if she was anything like her mother, she was soaked. And I needed to think. She said she was an exhibitionist! That meant that she'd gotten off because someone had been watching her.
I was screwed.
As I got up to get the towel, I couldn't help but notice I had a hard-on so stiff I could use it to cut diamonds. Yeah, yeah, I know that's an errant analogy. Fuck you. I was HARD. I tried to hide it as I went to her bathroom for the towel, but wasn't so sure I succeeded, as I heard a little giggle from behind me. And it wasn't going away. I fumbled with the towel, then got a washcloth as well, soaking it in warm water then wringing it out. She might need a little cleanup too.
On the way back to her bed, I tried to keep the towel in a position to hide the tent in my PJs, but knew it was a lost cause. PJ's are designed to be comfy, which also means loose. The tenting was obvious. She watched me return with a bemused expression, still utterly relaxed.
"Uh," I said, rather intelligently under the circumstances, I thought. "I thought you might... that is... Well some grown women get wet when they climax like that."
She giggled. She always did enjoy discombobulating me any way she could. Usually it was by saying something so off-the-wall that I had no response. She was really enjoying that I was so thoroughly out of my element. So of course, she piled it on.
"Yuh huh daddy! I'm soaked! Look!" She kicked the blankets aside, and because I'm an idiot, I looked. Her nightie was pulled up, exposing her panties, which were completely sodden, clinging to every contour of her sex like paint. And the way she'd been rubbing, the fabric was tucked deep into her cleft, giving her the most beautiful cameltoe you can imagine. It really did like she was stark naked and painted.
Even worse though, her thighs shone with a wet sheen, and the sheets beneath her were soaked as if she'd spilled the entire glass of water I brought her. Suddenly my own mouth was dry as the scent of her juices wafted up, filling my head like a euphoric. My mouth watered. You can call it a conditioned reflex caused by eating her mother's sweet pussy long and often, but it really took every inch of reserve I could muster to keep from diving down on that little peach and licking her clean.
"Uh, yeah. I can see that." The beautiful part was that she wasn't ashamed of it, or even put off by it. When I'd met her mother, she had quite the hang-up over being so wet, and it'd taken her cumming on my face and mouth many times to really and truly convince her that it wasn't just "all right", it was a gift. Apparently the first guy she'd even climaxed with had freaked out, thinking she'd peed on him, and had called her all sorts of horrible things. That was the sort of sexual scarring that I wanted to avoid heaping on my daughter. It'd fucked her mom up for years, and I didn't want Cici to have to go through that crap too!
Before she could read my comment the wrong way, I went on. "I can see that. You're a very lucky girl honey. When it comes to cumming, the wetter the better!" She grinned at my poetry, and I could see the ghost of doubt that had been forming disappear. "Of course, that means there will be a little clean-up, but TOTALLY worth it, don't you think?"
She nodded, pleased both by my compliment as well as my matter-of-factness about the mess, like it was no big deal. "Tell ya what honey, why don't you go clean up and change your unders while I take care of the bed?" As she got up, I added, "Your nightie's soaked. Better change that too."
While she went into the restroom, stopping by the dresser to get her things, I peeled off the blankets and sheets, then the waterproof liner. Like all kids, she'd had the occasional accident growing up, and we'd seen no reason to remove it. Accidents aside, kids occasionally spilled too, and pretty much anything would stain a mattress. Of course, my bed had a liner too, but that was because, as I said, her mom was a gusher.
Unfortunately, unlike my bed, we only had the one liner for hers, so I couldn't replace it without washing it first. So I bundled up the liner and the sheets and put them in the washer. I was just about to push the Start button when Cici tapped on my shoulder. "These too daddy?"
I turned around, and there was my darling little girl, standing in nothing but a pair of 'Happy Feet" panties and a smile, holding out her sodden panties and nightie. "I don't have another nightie daddy," she said. I knew that was a lie, but she was just so cute, and I couldn't argue anyway because the scent from those panties was waking my manhood again. I took the items and set them aside - they don't belong in the same load as sheets, then urged her out the laundry room with me behind her - partly so she wouldn't see the growing tent, partly so she wouldn't see me sniff and lick my fingers. If the girl's juices smelled divine, her taste was simply indescribable!
Watching her walk in front of me was an interesting experience. I'd never thought of Cici as a sexual being before, but now that I'd noticed, it was beyond me how I hadn't noticed earlier. That little ass of hers, wiggling in those cute little panties was the stuff of wet dreams. And although she had no breasts to speak of beyond the puffy areola so common in girls who weren't quite getting breasts yet, those looked amazingly attractive on her. Of course, if she was like her mother, she wouldn't get much more than that anyway. Her mom barely filled a B cup, and in fact, over-filled an A cup beautifully. It meant she often had to wear padding when modelling dresses, but that was fine. I loved her little breasts when they were out for my enjoyment! Even better, it meant she could go braless, which she loved to do because she had perpetually stiff nipples, and it made the guys look. Like I said, she loves to be looked at!
I followed my little cherub to her bedroom, and was about to start making her bed, when she dropped another bomb on me. "I hate sleeping without the liner daddy - the mattress is rough and itches!" That's what I got for getting her a thick padded liner. "Can't I sleep with you tonight instead?"
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