My Strict Daddy

"Turn over, baby," he whispered, he ached for what came next, "on your knees and I'll tell you."

She was quick to do as she was told and her panty-clad, heart-shaped bottom was on display. The sheer, pink panties gave him a glimpse of the smooth, round line of her cheeks. That crease, the place where he liked to lick slowly, as if he had no mind to go anywhere else, the softness there was intoxicating. He rubbed the palm of his right hand back and forth there, over her bottom.

His left hand reached for the fabric at the center of her panties. His wife was already wet. Whatever she'd been thinking of that day, she must have been as aroused as he. Her lips were already open for him and he could feel her petals splayed under the satin panties. He touched through the panties as he whispered his confession. "I wanted you so badly, little girl," he bowed his head, his forehead pressed into her velvety skin. "I found your pink panties and all I could think of was touching your sweet, pink little pussy," his dick bobbed with the memory and dripped on her thigh. His right hand drew back and smacked her cheek. "I wanted to touch you under your panties, my love," his voice broke. His fingers slid under the damp fabric and he groaned with need as he felt her open and hot and slippery for him. Another smack and her bottom bounced. "I wanted to touch my own daughter," he shook from the memory. He masturbated his little girl, enchanted by the feel of her clit thudding harder with every word, "Touching my little baby and making her all wet for me."

She shivered under him and pushed her bottom up for the spanking. She rubbed herself back and forth in his hand. Every nerve was his to command, every sensation heightened and her hips bucked under him. "Feeling my daughter, wet in my hand," his mouth was on her waist, pressed against her, he felt her ride the wave of her need. "My own daughter," another spanking, another slap, and with the left hand, two fingers rhythmically circling her engorged clit. "I put your panties in my mouth," he spanked her harder as he continued the story. "And imagined I was licking my little girl's pussy," she gasped as the tremor wracked her body.

She rubbed herself desperately in his hand and came with a crescedo of little cries. Her ecstasy radiated through his fingers, into his body. Every inch of her body shook as the first orgasm rocked down her thighs. "Daddy," it was just breath, not a sound. The sound was a sob of delight and there was so much more where that came from.

"Little girl," he was starving for her now and laid her on her back, ever so gently, before he shredded the panties in two parts. There was no other way to get to her and the need was immediate.

Her bare lips were the most beautiful shade of pink. She was a rose in bloom and swollen and dripping with her lovely cream. Every time he looked at her delicate crevice, he couldn't help but marvel at what a little angel she was between her legs. She looked so innocent and absolutely perfect. Even after all this time she was still an adorable virgin, just a girl, offered up just for him.

He placed the most tender, closed mouth kiss on her mound before whispering, "I wanted to lick my daughter's sweet pussy." The confession went straight to the head of his cock as he kissed her juicy lips. He gave her little pecks and nibbles until she quivered with delight. Her thighs couldn't stay completely open and he pinned them to the bed. He nibbled the backs of her knees and watched her squirm. He forced her wide open for him and let his tongue linger over her, drooling on her hot skin before taking a drink.

Her scent washed over him as he lapped and licked and rubbed his face there to cover himself with her scent. In his head, he told her everything. How he'd obsessed over her from the first moment he saw her. How he'd had a wet dream the first night just from watching her bottom in the jeans. The feel of that first kiss when she was in his lap and gave him her mouth until he came in gasping waves. It was almost as if it were the first time.

Everything was the first with her.

As it was, he didn't say a word, he just devoured her. When he slid his index finger inside, the same finger that she had teased with her tongue, she cried out, "Yes, Daddy, please." Where she used to hesitate with just one finger, now her hips weren't satisfied until he gave her two.

He fucked her slowly and deeply as his persistent tongue lapped at her aching clit until it was red and ready. She gripped the sheets below as she pushed her hips up and begged, "Oh god, Daddy please fuck me."

With a sound that a rutting animal would make, something primal, something too hungry to stop, he growled before he closed his lips around her and sucked. Two fingers beckoned and his daughter shuddered under him. She dug her heels into his shoulders as she surrendered once more. She didn't have to tell him she was coming, there was no denying it. All she could do was whimper as he drank down every last droplet of his daughter's deliciousness.

His cock couldn't wait another moment. He pounced on top of her and roughly pinned her wrists to the bed with one hand as he gripped his aching dick with the other. With one long thrust, he had all of her and she was still perfect, still made just for him. His daughter was still in the throes of her orgasm as he fucked her to the very depths. Daughter, little girl, wife, she was everything and her legs sealed him deep inside as he pumped her full of his need. Rosemary, Madison, Jennifer, whatever her name was, it was in moments like this where he called her what she was. "Oh my love," he called out in a desperate voice. it was his last confession, the words torn from him as he came in thundering waves.

He was lost in light and waves, inside her, surrounded by her sticky, little limbs. This, he was quite sure, was the only heaven he'd ever see or need.

Their sleepy, soft kisses and little sighs continued as they melted together. Time ceased in moments like this. Her voice was just a coo, her fingers in his hair and her scent covered him. His sweat puddled on her neck, in the dip between her collar bones. His cock was still deep inside, the only place it ever wanted to be. It was impossible to know how long they lay basking in the other's glow, minutes, hours. It could be days and he wouldn't have thought it enough.

Tonight he traced the shadows on her shoulders until her stomach growled. She giggled, "I think you have to feed me, lover."

He shook his head, "So demanding," he teased.

His wife liked to eat their dinner on the patio and linger at the table with a glass of wine. She had started with merlot but after his careful tutelage, she had recently chosen a delicious Barolo. Of course, nothing that she did surprised him anymore, his wife was a quick study.

His wife liked to wear one of his old tee-shirts and wash the dishes as he dried. They would prattle on about their day that was generally composed of little of nothing and he loved it. He was fixing up the house, far too slowly. She was learning Italian and he didn't remember enough to correct her mistakes.

After they had watched the stars for a while, his wife would play with her long, black hair, winding curls around her finger. Her stormy, blue eyes would be tired and content. Once he saw her thick lashes resting on her cheekbones, fluttering as she nodded off, he would ask, "Are you ready for bed, little girl?"

It was a voice from long ago and far away, two lifetimes ago to be precise, when she would nod and answer, "Yes, Daddy."

It would only take a minute or two to be tucked into bed, with her head near the large zig zag scar over his heart. He loved to feel her hair draped over his shoulder. He let his hands memorize her shape in the moonlight and he listened to her breathe. In the dark, there were moments when he was Michael and she was Madison and they both bore the scars of those names.

This new life may be a lie but there was one truth, no matter the name or the place and he whispered it before drifting off. "I love you, little girl."