Daddy, Take Me Ch. 03-04

My daddy took advantage of this, a single finger sliding along my damp-covered labia, my body wanting to grunt and moan. My panties were too tight, so he slowly pulled his fingers out, much to my consternation! His fingers covered my abandoned cunt, and he pressed down on the pantyhose, my body shaking. I felt his strong finger tapping my hidden clit, each touch coursing through my excited body. I wanted daddy to stop his incessant strumming, but my body wasn't listening to my mind at this point. I held his cock firmer, my other hand grasping the armrest, as my legs splayed out, my breath heavy and urgent, as daddy continued to tease me. He knew precisely when to release my pussy from his touch, and when to apply more. My hand furtively stroked his covered dick, knowing I could do the same to him. The thought of this emboldened me, daddy somehow knowing I wouldn't stop 'til he did. His fingertips tensed on my hard clit, rubbing my hard nub gently 'til I came. It caught my breath, luckily in sync with what was happening on stage, and I released a long, almost silent moan, my hips quaking against his gentle onslaught.

I came on my daddy's fingers, my juices soaking the gusset of my pantyhose. I wanted to pull his hand away, but I couldn't. I closed my eyes, and succumbed to this man's control over me. I stifled another groan by coughing, my body jerking with every pulse streaming through my body. I brought mom's scarf to my mouth, moaned, and coughed into it, hopefully disguising my orgasm. I squeezed daddy's cock, feeling the muscles throb under my hand. Such a beautiful, naughty daddy I had, I thought. I took my hand from his thick member, knowing this would annoy him more than spilling his seed in his trousers. My body lurched again, as my breath left my lungs. I pushed daddy's fingers away, at least! I could feel him move his hand and wipe his fingers on my stockinged thighs. I snuck my hand under the scarf, grasped his hand, brought it to my lips, and kissed the wet digits. I dared not look at daddy. We sat there, composing our breathing, and let our fingers make love, as we continued to watch the stage.

I only hoped the perfectly coiffed, elegant lady seated next to me wouldn't smell my arousal. On the other hand, my voyeuristic side wished she had.

I wanted to lean into my daddy, my head on his brawny shoulder, and hug him, but I knew we would be giving away our most dangerous liaison.

I leaned into his ear, and whispered, "Je vais te baiser ce soir, papa," and licked his earlobe. If he didn't know I was going fuck him tonight, well, he knew it then!

I watched the little smirky smile cross his mouth. I could have slapped him; he was so cocky.

"Tu veux que je te suce la bite, papa?" I asked, coquettishly in his ear. If this man was going to play, I could so easily play along with him. He never answered my question if he wanted me to suck his cock. Hmm. I was encouraged by his silence. It was my turn to smirk.

I sat back, assured that I had my daddy right where I wanted him. I relaxed back into the opera, a confident smile across my face. We held hands like a dad and his daughter shouldn't, but we didn't care. So much about our family life was outside the norm already. What was so wrong with a sprinkle of incest, hmm? In truth, it wasn't incest in its most accurate form, although I didn't think it mattered either way to daddy. Hell, as a family, we'd broken a few laws already, but father/daughter incest wasn't one!

The opera was over, everyone now standing, and clapping. The obligatory flowers were handed to the superb soprano as the cast bowed graciously to us, their audience. Daddy turned to me, and at last, we kissed. He pulled me into him, and we hugged, and somewhat chastely kissed.

"Merci, papa. C'était merveilleux," I sighed, and leaned into his chest.

He held my face in his hands, and kissed me again. We slowly made our way to the exit, the cool January air sweeping over us. We continued with our French talking, knowing it would throw most people off. He asked if I was hungry or just wanted a drink. Of course, he knew several bars in the area. I was hungry for one thing only, but a quick drink would suffice for now. He grabbed my wrap, and gingerly put it around my shoulders, the length covering most of my back. I took his hand as he led me out, and into the night. We entered a rather posh bar, and he ordered me another pink gin and strawberry cocktail while he had his usual peaty single malt. The place was packed mostly with after-theatre drinkers, but the atmosphere was beautiful. Gentle jazz played in the background, mostly drowned out by all the chattering. His fingers slid along my arms, raising goosebumps with every swipe, as I had my hand on his chest, feeling his simmering manhood. I couldn't wait to strip him when we returned home. We talked easily about the opera for a while, but we both needed to be home.

I took his hand as we walked to the car, embracing like family shouldn't, but we didn't care. My tongue slipped between his lips, the taste of his whisky more than welcome. His hand slipped under my shawl, his warm hand on my back, as his fingers slid down and crept between the bottom curve of my dress, and the tops of my panties. He toyed with the top edging, my body crushed up against his, as we necked in the street.

He opened the car door, helped me in, and securely cinched me into my seat, taking some pleasure in roughly adjusting the seat belts. His hand crept behind my head, and we looked at each other. No words were needed for what was happening. He slowly brought his lips to mine, and tenderly and passionately kissed me. Never has a simple kiss made me feel so alive, so desired, or so loved.

He confidently put the car into first, and we roared off into the night, heading north and home. I was more in tune with daddy now, noticing how he handled the car, smoothly changing gears, taking and accelerating out of a corner, and effortlessly manoeuvring the car. I placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing and holding on, but he had everything under control, even me. As always, we talked, laughed, and tormented each other, our noticeable flirting reaching new heights.

"So," I asked, smiling, "you never answered my questions, hmm?" I teased.

"You are certainly a little tease, Chloe. As much as I would love to pull over, and have you go down on me, that'll wait, okay? Well, if you can," he smirked. "You deserve more on our first time, hmm?"

"I knew you'd say that daddy, but that doesn't mean I can't tease, eh?" I demurely smiled.

"Keep your teasing up, young lady, and I may just pull over and teach you your first lesson," he smirked.

"Humph. Promises, promises," I giggled, my hand squeezing his abundant cock.

He suddenly pulled the car over to the side of the road, pulled on the brake, leaned over, and took my head in his hands. His lustful gaze caught my breath, as his hands swept over my face, and around my neck. He brought his lips tantalisingly close to mine, and licked them, my body shuddering with hope. Just as quickly, he let go, put the car in gear, and took off again, sniggering. I thought I'd give him that one, trying to calm my nerves.

"Will you teach me how to drive your car, daddy?" I asked, knowing probably what the answer would be.

"Hmm, that's a big ask, Little One. Think you could handle it...safely?" he replied.

"With your tutoring, yeah, I think so," I answered, confidently. "You will...tutor me, daddy?" I seductively asked.

"Hmmm," is all he said, so I pouted at him, daddy laughing at me, as he usually did.

In time, we pulled into the drive. He killed the engine, and we looked at each other.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"I've been ready for years, daddy...or haven't you noticed?" I asked, teasing

again.

"I have, Chloe. Now just seems the right time, eh?" he said, as he opened his door, came around to my side, and kindly opened mine. We held hands as we walked to the front door, daddy letting me walk in first. He helped me with my poncho, and we walked to the kitchen. On the one hand, I wanted him to throw me up against the nearest wall, and fuck me, just like he did to mommy all those years ago, but I knew he wouldn't. He poured us a drink, chastely kissed me, saying, "Shall we?" and motioned upstairs. That would be the last chaste kiss for a while.