Take Care

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A girl can only trust her Daddy to care for her every need.
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The last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, the pink and purple afterglow just barely illuminating the white washed walls of my bedroom. I took this as my cue to rest, though I still had mountains of boxes to unpack. Back at home. Home, what a foreign concept.

This was my third night back in my father's house, after my latest failed attempt to leave the nest. For nearly two years I'd been repeating this pattern, high hopes of moving in with friends, getting out on my own, but then the reality hit me and Id panic, quit my job, pack back up, and cower like a kid at dad's place. It's pathetic.

I caught my reflection in my mirror. Turned in profile I have all the right curves; at least I think so. I can still see the vestiges of the small, skinny girl I used to be, but I had come to accept my petite frame. My breasts have, finally, begun to fill out. They aren't huge, but they are firm and round. Long chocolate brown hair, nice smile, clear blue eyes. "Why can't a pretty girl like you hold on to a man?" I ask myself, slinking away from the mirror and crumbling on to my bed. I felt a lump form in the pit of my stomach, and work its way to my throat, remembering Dan, my most recent ex, who left me for my best friend. I had lost them both, really. Just a week ago now, I had come home from work and walked in on the two of them, screwing in our living room. I still can't shake the image of my boyfriend pumping in to that whore, and when he turned to look at me, that smug prick had the biggest smile on his face. I should have expected, you can't ever trust a man, but, still, my best friend. How could I forgive Amanda for this? We have been friends for years, both of us shipped off to that boarding school at the age of 11. She had gone because the Academy was where women in her family had always gone, for four generations. I went, funded by my mother's life insurance policy, because my father simply didn't know what else to do with me.

The air in my bedroom is sticky, and the open window does little to relieve the heat. I willed myself to get up and turn on the small box fan, and double-check that my door was locked before beginning to strip off my sweaty clothes. The last time I'd been home, my poor father had walked in on me in various states of undress, both in my room and in the bathroom, half a dozen times. I really have to get myself in the habit of at least closing the doors all the way, let alone locking them. Perhaps it's the constant heat in Florida. I have never gotten used to it since moving back, and I hate the thought of closing off any circulation. I usually leave the door propped open, especially when I shower so the steam doesn't build up. The first time Daddy walked in on me, I just barely had enough warning to wrap a towel around myself. I'm sure he still saw everything, and I was too embarrassed to look him in the eye for almost a week. Dad never forgets to close doors. I never have a problem with it either, really, except here.

Dad will be home from work soon. Like usual, he'll knock on my door to ask if I want any dinner, and we'll stumble through yet another silent meal. My father doesn't seem disappointed in me, just sad. As far as I know he doesn't have a girlfriend, not a lot of close friends at work, and now with his 19 year-old daughter coming and going from his house, disrupting his life every couple of months... "Poor dad," I whisper to myself, falling back in to my bed, curling in to the pillows and blankets. A young father, his wife dying so suddenly just a few years after they met, just a few years after I was born. He's all I've ever had, my father, and I feel like such a failure every time I have to come running back here. Every time I ruin my life and he has to take care of me.

The stress and exhaustion of moving has caught up with me, and my body feels too heavy. Tossing and turning in the sheets, I let my mind wander, remembering Dan. He hurt me, yes, but I still miss him. Miss the way he held me at night, hands slithering across my thighs, pulling my legs apart, he was rough and demanding, but he always left me satisfied. I start to let my own hands drift, but it's so hot, and instead I drift off in to a fevered sleep.

--

A cool breeze blew through the room. It was black except for the thinnest sliver of moonlight through the window. I could hear breathing, deep and even, behind me. Suddenly, rough hands gripped my arms from behind and forced me forward. Bent over the foot of the bed, those hands slowly worked their way to my hips, sliding over my torso and down around my belly. Calluses on the palms felt rough on my soft skin, and they held me just a bit too tight. Strong hands, strong arms... I felt so safe. The hands found my breasts, squeezing my warm flesh, pinching my nipples until they stood hard, and sore. My nipples have always been so sensitive, and I swear I could feel every nerve responding to my lover's touch.

He pushed me further, resting his weight on my back. My breathing was muffled by the pillows, and he was so heavy, I felt like I was sinking in to the bed. I clawed at the mattress, desperate for air. Suddenly, he pulled back on my hair, and I gasped for breath. One arm was still under me, slowly rolling my nipples between his strong fingers. "So good," I moaned, "harder, please..." soft mewling noises rose up from my throat. My body was on fire. My pussy was aching. I slipped a hand beneath my hips and strummed my clit while he tugged on mytits, the little shock waves of pain rippling through my torso down to my pussy, already dripping wet.

"You like it rough, baby?' His voice was a low growl. "You want it hard?" He grabbed my shoulders, flipping me to my back to face him. "Get on top." His face was so close, his crystal blue eyes flashed with hunger. He forced my thighs apart with his knee, and I saw his cock, huge and thick, pressed between us. "I know what you need, baby girl." I wanted him, all of him, I wanted his cock buried deep inside of me. Everything froze. My vision blurred. I fought to stay, but it felt like the world was fading, and suddenly he was out of reach. --

I woke with a start, tangled in my sheets. I felt for my lover beside me before I realized it had been a dream. The clock on the dresser said 11:30, I had slept right through dinner. I threw on a shirt and crept to my door. No lights were on in the hallway. I opened my door and peeked my head out. The house was silent. Dad must have gone to bed early. I walked down the hall to the kitchen, got a glass of water, and returned to my bedroom. My mind was reeling from the dream. So vivid. My body must have agreed. My nipples stood, clearly visible through my thin tshirt. My panties were soaked. I slipped them off and lay myself back down, closing my eyes to relive the fantasy. It must have been Daniel. I danced my fingertips across my stomach and tried to recapture the image. Those hands, calloused on the palms, holding me tight. Not aggressive, but firm. I wished for those hands to cup my breasts, kneading them. Daniel slowly rolling the little buds of my nipples between his fingertips, taking one gently in his lips. I caressed my own breast, the flesh soft and hot. I raked my nails across the mound, the little stings of pain heightened like all of my sensations.

I drew tiny circles with my left forefinger over my clit, dipping slowly in to the wetness beneath, then back up. I traced my fingers over my tiny inner lips, plump with my arousal. I ventured closer to my center, just brushing the tiny opening. I called out, softly, little moans, remembering the deep voice from my dream. Get on top. So commanding. I slid just the tip of my middle finger in to my slippery pussy, still kneading my breasts with my right hand. I pinched my nipple, twisting, the electric shock running right through my body. I was burning up, panting with need. I was dripping wet. I slid my finger in further, every nerve ending responding. I fucked myself slowly, careful not to touch my clit. I felt my orgasm, so very, very close, edged on by my fingers, stroking the walls of my pussy, my juices seeping out on to the sheets. I needed to cum. I know what you need. His blue eyes fixed on me, spread open on the bed. A small voice in my head broke through my fantasy, "Daniel's eyes are brown." But I could see the man from my dream, his eyes were... and who's voice was...

"Janine?"

"Dad!"

Shit. I opened my eyes to see my father standing in my doorway. The hall light was on behind him. I sat upright, my shirt still bunched up over my breasts. "Oh god, oh my god," I fumbled to cover myself, shot through with embarrassment. What was even the point, he had seen everything. "What the hell, Daddy, shut the door!"

My father averted his eyes, leaning his body away from my door and against the wall in the hallway. I could see him now in profile, shirtless, his broad chest rising and falling quickly, like he was out of breath. "I'm... I'm sorry baby, I thought I heard... someone out here... I wasn't..."

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I can't believe I forgot to shut the damn door again," I mumbled in to my hands, too mortified to look him in the eye. I kept my gaze down, and I saw he wasn't wearing pajamas at all, just his boxers. And I thought I saw... no, no, there was just no way my father had an erection right now. My body was still burning, there was no way I was thinking clearly.

"No, you did... I..." Dad squeezed his fists together, trying to say something that wasn't coming out. "I opened it, I didn't see you at dinner and I wanted to make sure you were all right. I heard you get up, I'm sorry hun," he rushed through his words, and pushed off from the wall, "I'm just going back to bed, we'll talk in the morning."

"No, Daddy, wait..." I pulled away the blankets, nearly tumbling from the bed as I tried to reach him, "I want... I need to talk to you now." I followed him down the hall to his bedroom, remembering too late I had no panties on, just my long tshirt, covering me just to the middle of my thighs. He turned to face me, blocking the door, and our eyes locked. At 6'2", Daddy was nearly a foot taller than me, and big. Years of labor had left him well muscled arms, calloused hands. He stood tall, shoulders back, and looked out at the world through icy blue eyes. The eyes from my dream. My knees locked. My dad... I'd been dreaming about fucking my dad.

My legs trembled, I felt like I might faint. Daddy caught me, gripping my uppers arms as I struggled to stand. "Let's get you back to bed, Janine, come on..."

"No," I said, both to myself and to him, "No, Daddy, I want to talk to you. Why did you open my door, Daddy?" I began to piece it all together. "You're not some dumb little boy, you're a grown man. You knew what those sounds were, you knew what I was doing." Daddy loosened his grip on my arms, stepping back away from me. His eyes opened wide, his jaw slack. "And those other times, when I was dressing, when I was in the shower, you opened the door then, too, didn't you?"

"Janine, I would never..." he began, looking at the floor, walking backwards away from me. "You're my daughter, that's crazy. That's insane." He shook him head, like he was talking to himself, convincing himself that yes, it was crazy, walking in again and again, peeking in on his daughter, his own flesh and blood, it was wrong. It was crazy. Daddy sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, "That's wrong, Janine."

"I'm not wrong, dad. Don't lie to me." I followed him, crawling next to him on the bed. I reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, and turned his face to me, "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Daddy's eyes narrowed, his face looked pained. At first he just stared, but, finally, he took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders, giving in. "You're right, baby, all those times you caught me, and others when you haven't, I've been watching you. I'm so, so sorry Janine. I've tried to stop, tried to control myself, but baby, it's so hard. You're a woman now, so beautiful, so much like your mother..." he paused, catching his breath. "So much like your mother. When you're here, it's like she's back. Like I can have you both, my little girl back at home, and my beautiful wife. It's.... it's been so hard, hun, with her gone. You're all I have left..." Daddy stopped, shaking his head, "No, baby, no, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't think of you... that way..."

My mind reeled. My father had been spying on me, watching me undress, peeking through doorway at my naked body, lusting after me. He'd seen me, just moments ago, fucking myself on my bed. Had he been touching himself, too? Jacking his hard cock through his boxers while he watched his daughter finger her pussy? The thought was too surreal. And how could I tell him, that there, in my bedroom, without really knowing it, I'd been lusting after him too? Rubbing my clit and thinking of my Daddy. I'd been on edge all night, I never got a chance to cum, and now, in the heat and confusion, every emotion running high, I could feel my juices trickling down my thighs. I was so wet, I was so ready.

"Daddy, Daddy, it's okay. It's all right Daddy." I slid towards him, pressing my torso against his, "I know you'd never hurt me."

"I promised your mother I'd always take care of you, that you'd never be alone. I sent you to that school because I wanted to give you the best, but now I just have no idea how to treat you like a father should, now I've been having these horrible thoughts..." He was making excuses, like he'd been trying to justify to himself his desires. He knew how to be a father, he had always been a wonderful father, but perhaps now we just needed to me more for each other...

"Daddy, you've always taken care of me. Mommy would be proud. She wouldn't want you to deny yourself, would want either of us to deny ourselves, a chance to be happy. She'd want you to be happy. She'd want me to take care of you, too." Too bold, too hot, I didn't care. I let my hand rest on Daddy's knee, slowly worked my way up, "Let me take care of you," My fingers met their target, Daddy's cock beneath his boxers, already stiff and pulsing. I rubbed him through the cotton, leaning my head on Daddy's shoulder, whispering to him, "I was thinking of you too, Daddy. You're the only one, the only man I can trust, you're everything to me. We don't need anyone else..."

He groaned as I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, and felt his flesh for the first time. Daddy's dick was so thick, I could barely wrap my tiny hand around him. He turned his face to mine, and we kissed. The tip of his tongue pressing past my lips, invading my mouth, and I opened for him, letting him explore my mouth while I worked my fist up and down his hard shaft. One of Daddy's hands rested on my waist, groping me through my tshirt. He cupped my breasts, already so alert and sensitive. My whole body trembled. I gasped, "Daddy, yes, Daddy, play with my tits, oh god, so good Daddy..."

My father leaned in to me, and I lost my grip on his cock as Daddy rolled me over on to my back. In one swift movement he was on top of me, he mouth on my neck, nipping at me, panting as his hands searched for the hem of my shirt. His hands cupped the round cheeks of my ass, lifting me up, pulling my shirt above my head. And just like that I was naked, spread open before my father, writhing and moaning like a wanton whore. "Oh my god, so beautiful baby, you're so perfect baby girl," Daddy's lips moved to my breasts, kissing and biting at my nipples, pinching the little nubs and sucking harder when I shrieked with pleasure, "Yes, more Daddy, please."

"Yes, baby, Daddy's watched you touch yourself at night, I've seen you play with your breasts. Your perfect round tits. I wanted so much to rush in, to suck on them, to feel your soft skin in my hands, baby. And I've watched you rub your pussy, baby girl, I've seen the way you tease yourself. Daddy wants to touch you..." His hands moved slowly over my stomach, reaching down over my smooth mound, and I felt a finger dip between my shaved bare lips. I was soaking, dripping wet, "Daddy, please, I'm so wet, your baby girl is so hot, please..."

My father stopped, his body so close to me, his weight pressing me down, his hand between my legs, his fingers already coated in my juices. "Janine, are you sure? Are you positive? We can stop, baby,"

I cut him off, "I'm sure, Daddy. I want this, I want you. I trust you. We need this, we need each other." I loved him, more in that moment than I ever had before. I had never felt so wanted, so desired, and so safe. And I needed to cum, I craved it, I needed any release, "Please Daddy, I know you'll take care of me. I love you so much, Daddy."

"I love you, baby," Daddy said, just as he slid a finger, then another, in to my tight cunt, plunging them in again and again, "Daddy loves his baby girl, his hot little girl," my whole body rocked with the force of his fingers fucking me, "Daddy needs to taste you," he said as he moved between my legs, his tongue lapping at my clit as his fingers kept stretching me open.

"Yes, Daddy, suck my clit, please Daddy, make me cum for you!" I screamed, completely at his mercy. Daddy's fingers fucking my hungry pussy, his mouth sucking and licking and worshipping my clit, I came immediately, flooding my father's mouth. The wave of my orgasm crashed over me, and I ground myself on my father's fingers begging for more. "Please Daddy, I want to feel you inside of me, please papa, please fuck me. I need it, I need your cock in me, please, fuck your little girl, Daddy."

He stood, reluctantly pulling away from me, his face and neck wet from me. He was silent as he took me in, panting and pleading on his bed. His daughter, his baby, willing, begging to be his lover. In his eyes there was a lust, a hunger I'd never seen before. He needed me. I was my father's whole world in that moment, and I was ready to give him whatever he desired. Daddy's boxers slid to the floor, and I could see clearly for the first time my father's cock, long and so thick, harder than steel. He knelt between my legs, rubbing the smooth head against my slit, aiming right for my center.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asked, gently, rhythmically stroking my clit, down my lips, up again, pressing forward just slightly, his massive shaft waiting sink in to me. I couldn't wait any longer, I needed him, wanted my Daddy to fuck me, wanted my Daddy's cock inside of me, "Yes, Daddy."

The bulbous head stretched me open, my Daddy plunging in to me, bottoming out inside my cunt in one swift thrust. He roared as he slid in to me, my tight pussy squeezing every inch of him. Impossibly deep, my Daddy's prick stretched me to my limit, and still I wanted more. "God, Daddy, yes, so big, you're so fucking big Daddy, my Daddy's big cock stretching me open, fuck me Daddy, please, please, fuck me hard!" He held my legs wide apart and thrust over and over, slamming in to his baby, his hard throbbing cock buried inside of his little girl. "Rub your clit, baby, I want to watch you, Daddy wants to see you tease yourself. Cum while Daddy's inside you, love, I want to feel you cum on your Daddy's hard dick." He was an animal, forcing his way through me each time. I could feel every inch of him squeezed inside of me, feel each tiny movement as he moved through my aching pussy. I had to cum, had to cum for my Daddy. As soon as my fingers touched my clit, I felt every nerve in my body fire at once. I seized up, gasping for air as my father continued to fuck me, pistoning in and out of my tiny cunt. I came hard, screaming for him, "Daddy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming for you Daddy, oh god, papa, I'm cumming with you inside of me, can you feel it? Can you feel your little girl cum for you, around your hard cock, fuck me Daddy, cum for me Daddy, cum inside your baby girl,"

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