LordDarkStar
09-10-2010, 09:06 AM
Gabriella's Daddy
by: VampLover69
Edited by: Lord Dark Star
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA: FALL 2005
Where'd those come from, I asked myself when I saw the burgundy colored panties lying among the pile of clean, white clothes I'd pulled out of the dryer and then just dropped in a pile onto my bed.
Huh, they're definitely not mine, I thought as I held the lacy satin up between my hands. I stretched them once, then again, and then drew them to my face where my nose picked up some still lingering odor on the just cleaned panties. A male scent?
Could one of my friends, maybe Laura or Jane, have inadvertently dropped them in my sport bag after phys ed today? And then I'd thrown them in with the wash? I knew immediately that was nonsense, both my friends invariably wore plain, white cotton shorts at school.
So where'd they come from? I'd never worn this style before. Curious I stripped off my sweats and underwear and tried them on. As soon as I pulled them up it seemed as though they'd been tailored especially for me. I liked the feel of them, low rise, cheeky boy shorts, a stretchy lace, a style I'd never used. They made me feel sexy.
I ran my hand down my stomach, let my middle finger trace my slit through the soft material, shivered as a moist spasm ignited deep in my sex. "Gosh, I should wear these always," I mumbled half aloud, then pranced over to the wall mirror and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. Quickly shed my white, cotton sports bra.
"I'm too sexy," I sang as I danced to my reflection, my long coltish legs moving rhythmically. Cupped and gently squeezed my full and jiggling, pink capped breasts. Then I noticed three or four rogue hairs that spilled from the lace edges of my new panties. I hadn't trimmed my dark pubic patch in months, the coming of autumn and the putting away of bathing suits had seemed to make it unnecessary.
I rolled down the panties a turn or two, exposing the full black triangle
designed by nature to lead a man's eyes down to a woman's sex. I saw how I was open, spread pink, moist...wow, it was still mid afternoon. What are these panties made of anyway?
I turned and, looking back over my shoulder, watched how my firm, high, round cheeks peeked from the tight panties trying unsuccessfully to conceal them. Just the presence of the soft cloth on my body seemed to be exciting me more than the two boys I'd been leading on for the last three months.
I lay back on the bed and slipped my hand under the elastic and then moved my fingers over my sex. Faster and faster. Tried to think of my two boyfriends, but then strangely, just as the full force of my orgasm radiated outwards I saw a long, hard prick, a man's prick, in my mind's eye. Then daddy's face slipped across my consciousness.
Daddy? Yuck! Not when I'm cumming!
I left them on as I did my homework, studied my math topless, was wet between my legs all afternoon. I left them on later while I cooked daddy's dinner.
"Hi sweetie, how was school. Soccer practice?"
"Good daddy," I answered as his arms engulfed me in his normal welcoming hug.
"You smell nice."
"I do?"
"Uh huh," I answered even as I realized I'd never really noticed daddy's odor, his scent, his maleness before. Not this way anyway. "Are you using a new aftershave? Deodorant? It's nice...manly, sexy." God, what did I just say, I asked myself silently.
"Same old, same old sweetie. And do I smell brownies?"
"I cooked them specially...it's your last night...I wanted to..."
"I love you sweetie," he laughed as he lifted me in the air and spun me around, a game we'd played a thousand times since I was three.
"I love you too daddy," I squealed as I my crossed legs around his waist and
threw my arms around his neck.
I felt my nipples suddenly stiffen; started to push them into his chest just
before he lowered me to the floor.
"I'm getting to old for this, I can hardly carry you," he joked, a broad grin on
his lips.
"Yeah right dad," I answered, both of us knowing how hard dad worked to keep his thirty-seven year old body in shape. At six-two and a chiseled one ninety-five, my father still had the hard athletes body he'd had winning football letters at U.V.A.
But then later, as we ate the meal I'd prepared, I kept asking myself, what is
wrong with you, he's your dad. And yet I couldn't help but feel the dampness
between my legs, the moist spot growing larger and larger on my new panties. I had to stop myself from looking at the bulge in the blue jeans my father had changed into. Wondered what it would feel like inside me.
The panties arrival in my wash would have remained one of those unexplained mysteries that occur to everyone, it would have, except later in the evening I went downstairs to get a soda.
Daddy was bent over in the laundry room, peering between the machines when I passed the door.
"Lose something Daddy?" I asked, still innocent.
"Oh sweetie," Daddy answered after jumping erect, a blush spreading across his face. "Darn socks...I seem to lose one every time I do a wash."
"Sock monsters," I laughed, agreeing even as the truth flooded through me. The flimsy cloth still girding my loins were daddies...somehow the panties I wore,
panties even now still damp from my need, somehow these panties had only
recently been fondled by daddy's strong hands.
Later that night I lay confused in bed as vivid images flooded my brain, images of an indistinct man stroking his immense cock with the same panties that were still resting tight against my throbbing sex. The same cock I'd seen at the moment of my orgasm earlier. It was Daddy's cock I knew now.
All night I tossed and turned, continually awakened by the imagined penetration of my virgin channel by my fathers prick.
Oh my gawd! This is sick.
The repeated knocking finally broke through my sleep. "Honey...honey...are you awake in there?"
"Dadddddy?" I mumbled as I slowly came to.
"Are you awake? It's late. Time to get up. You're going to be late for school."
He knocked again and then opened the door, and before looking in asked, "Are you decent? Can I come in?"
I pulled the sheet up so that it covered my breasts and then answered, "Uh huh, c'mon." Seeing daddy poke his head around the door I added yawning, "I forgot to set the alarm. What time is it?"
"Its seven fifteen, I gotta run," he answered as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed. "My flight's at nine."
"Oh gee, I forgot daddy, you're going to San Francisco today. A whole week, I'll miss you," I cried as I sat up and hugged him.
"You've got my schedule? Ginny said she e-mailed it to you. If you have any
questions call her at the office, or check on my computer. You've got the
password?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah, like I'm going to forget my name," I said, knowing father only used one password- 'Gabriella'. The sheet had fallen when I'd hugged daddy and even as I talked I felt a wave of excitement roll through my body. Knowing he could see my breasts, my fat, now erect nipples. He's just your dad I thought but then was suddenly aware of his panties which I still wore. God, don't let him see them I prayed silently.
"When will you be home?" I asked, holding the sheet tight against my stomach.
"Friday. If you have any problems...well, you know who to call."
We both laughed. I called daddy for the slightest reason, always had.
"Can I drive you to the airport?"
"No honey, the service will be here any minute. I'll call you every night...e-mail you," he promised as he stood.
"Give me a kiss," I demanded. He got about half cheek and half lip but for the first time in the thousand of father/daughter kisses we'd shared I felt a
frisson of sexual excitement. Dad was oblivious to it.
"Luv you," I whispered.
"You're my angel," he said standing again. But just before leaving the room he turned and asked, "Why aren't you wearing your pajamas anyway?"
And when I answered slyly, "I'm growing up daddy," I saw his eyes quickly flit to my quivering chest.
"Yes, yes, I think you are," he said with a shake of his head, and then added as he stood in the doorway, "Has your mom talked to you about...well you know?"
"About what daddy?" I asked grinning; my shoulders now pulled back to brazenly display my breasts.
"Uhh...you know...the birds and the bees stuff," he said grimacing.
"Birds and bees? Mommy?" I delayed, enjoying daddy's discomfort.
"Your mother...remember...that woman who lives in L.A."
"Do you mean sex daddy?" Seeing his embarrassed nod I answered, "She said you'd tell me everything...that it'd be better if a man explained the details."
"Your mother said that?"
"Maybe when you get home you and I can have a talk...I have a lot of questions daddy."
What is wrong with me? Miss Slut Tease with my daddy, I thought after he finally left.
My name is Gabriella Downing. Gabby. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm still a virgin. An eighteen year old certified American virgin. A good looking (beautiful?), tall teen whose black, silky hair cascades down my back almost to my small but perfectly rounded bum. A virgin whose hips and breasts had ripened into awakening womanhood over the last year. A girl who has increasingly felt the urge for sex.
No, you don't have to feel sorry for me because I'm still a virgin. Even though the Kinsey Institute reports that the average white, American girl loses her virginity at sixteen years, nine months of age, in my high school, in 2005, in upper class Richmond, Virginia, it wasn't either unusual or rare for an eighteen year old senior to still be intact.
In fact, of my five best friends and me, only two of us had actually been
penetrated by that male appendage designed for our deflowering, although Sally had recently admitted that she and Timmy were getting awfully close.
I probably would have lost mine myself last summer if my boyfriend Kevin's
father hadn't been suddenly transferred. I'd been just on the verge of giving in to Kevin's almost nonstop entreaties. But when he suggested it might be a nice going away present for him I gracefully declined, although almost as horny as he, I didn't want to lose my virginity to someone I'd never see again.
So I'd tentatively been test driving two of my classmates, Craig Brown and Jake Williams, all fall, and was still undecided about whether either should be my boyfriend, let alone my first lover.
So where'd all these weird thoughts about daddy come from, I asked myself as I soaped myself in the shower.
Does daddy really have that big a cock, I wondered, that cock, an image of which seemed now to be permanently etched in my brain. I knew that it was neither Craig nor Jake's penises I was dreaming of.
He probably did, I thought later as I sat through my History class, all my
friends had always thought he was sexy. Since we were like fourteen years old.
"Your dad is so hot, soooo hot," Laura or Janey or one of the others would
whisper in my ear when they saw dad, knowing it would always get a rise out of me.
"He is not!"
"I'll bet he's big," one of them would snicker as she held her hands a foot
apart.
"You're all disgusting," I'd admonish as they giggled at my embarrassment.
"What are you wearing?" Janey demanded as I bent to pull daddy's panties up my
legs. We'd just showered after our afternoon soccer practice.
"They're new," I answered shyly.
"Have you finally decided on one of your beaus? Trying to turn him on?" she asked, snooping.
"No."
"You're becoming a real slut Gabby," Jane teased.
I was! It was these bloody panties, every second I was wearing them my pussy seemed to hum.
We had an agreement daddy and I. Oh, it wasn't written down or anything, in fact we hadn't discussed it in over five years. Still, it existed. And now I was about to break it.
Mom left us when I was six. Just walked out on her young daughter and loving husband. At the time, my father had softly explained to his trembling daughter that mommy was tired, was a little sick, needed a little rest...that she'd come home soon...
I learned later that she just announced she needed 'some space' as she blithely explained it to her stunned husband and walked out. Mom was definitely different!
Then mom arrived back in my life when I was ten. She'd suddenly decided that it would be better for me if I lived with her in California. In the preceding four years she'd sent me six letters, phoned me twice and sent me one Christmas present!
Dad, who'd been told by his lawyers that he could tell mom to get lost and every court in the country would back him, instead let me decide, and even encouraged me to spend some time with her. After I'd made a couple of tentative visits to L.A., both supervised by dad, mom and dad and I had agreed as follows: I'd spend one month every summer with mom and every second Christmas with her.
And it turned out to be about perfect for both of us. Mom simply wasn't meant to be a full time mother. I knew she loved me but...but there was no one in the world she found more interesting than herself. It showed.
I'd learned to love her but after about twenty-five days in her company I'd
start to get itchy for dad and Richmond and my friends. By the last day of our month together we'd both be starting to go crazy. It was always a relief to go home.
So what has all this got to do with breaking my agreement with daddy? Well, when I arrived home from my annual summer trek to L.A. and mother's condo in 2000, I found daddy had completely redone my 'bedroom'.
Except it wasn't a bedroom anymore. In the month I'd been away contractors had taken two small bedrooms, an office, a washroom and a large hall cupboard and built me a master suite that rivaled dad's for comfort and luxury.
My first day home dad had taken me shopping and we'd outfitted 'my world' from furniture to sheets and towels. It was simply the Ritz. A TV. Hot tub/whirlpool bath. A study area, a play area. A huge room that was destined to become the place where my friends and I spent much of our free time over the following years.
Then, when everything was done, he announced, "It's all yours now Gabby."
"My room? What do you mean daddy?" I'd asked.
"What I mean sweetie is that even though there's no key on the door, this is
your room...I'll never invade your privacy."
"But you can come in anytime daddy."
And he'd always respected his word. Oh, the two of us would go into each others room if the door was open but I knew he'd never snoop. Knew that I could leave my diary open on my desk and he'd never read it.
And of course, although never discussed, I was bound to respect his privacy. I had never considered looking through his desk or papers. The whole concept was somehow icky.
So now of course I was trembling as I snuck down the hall. Knew even as I turned daddy's doorknob that I was doing something wrong. The gosh darn panties were making me do it! I was naked except for them. Blame them, I told myself.
Just as you'd know even blindfolded that my room was a girl's room, the scent in the air announcing it without any visual stimulus, so daddy's room similarly announced its maleness. I'd always secretly loved the room, the old four poster bed, the rich wood. I couldn't help but remember the nights when I was eight or nine or ten and had run into this room and jumped into daddy's warm bed as a thunderstorm had raged overhead.
Crying, I'd soon fall asleep in his reassuring arms...invariably wake up the
next morning snug in my own bed.
And now I was spying on him...rifling through his drawers...looking for...
They weren't even hidden. The third drawer I opened revealed his secret trove. Pink and blue and red and crimson and white and black, thongs and tangas, boy shorts, lace and satin, a veritable panty store. Oh god, I thought as I ran my fingers through them.
Each time I pulled one up my trembling legs and against my sex I knew daddy had touched the cloth, knew his penis had sought relief in their silken folds. On three of them were large stains of his dried and crusted seed. I actually rubbed the cum filled panties again and again up and down my moist crack.
I licked the sperm from one, ran my tongue damply over his caked essence, tasted daddy for the first time. Knew then that daddy had to be my first.
I slept in daddy's bed the rest of the week. Washed with his soap. Dabbed his
cologne on my breasts. I wore only his panties. Dreamt endlessly of a huge penis filling me. Daddy's penis. I was crazy.
"What are you doing here?" daddy asked after I'd met him waving at the gate. "You didn't have to."
"And have no one meet you?" I said as I hugged him.
"I'm glad you did honey, thanks," he said, then gave me a kiss on my cheek.
It was eight pm and he had just landed from his week long trip to the coast.
Both feeling guilty and excited I'd driven to the airport to meet him. I was
again wearing the panties, my pussy was tingling under them the whole drive home.
"Have you eaten?" he asked as I drove. Seeing my shake of my head he offered, "Why don't I take out my favorite girl out to a fancy dinner then?"
"You must be tired daddy, I'll cook you something," I said, giving him a quick loving smile.
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Thanks honey, I am tired."
"You go have a shower while I cook the steaks," I ordered.
"Are you angling for something special for Christmas?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yes," I laughed, "now go on, it'll be ready in twenty minutes."
"Yes ma'am."
I could be his wife I thought, as singing happily I cooked daddy's dinner.
"So, what do you want for Christmas anyway," he asked between bites.
"It's a secret. I told Santa," I said smiling.
"Did ya? Any hints for the guy with the credit card?"
"It won't cost you anything," I answered mysteriously.
"No jewelry? Clothes? Cameras?"
"You'll see."
I lay awake that night, thinking, wondering, trying to plan. How does an
eighteen year old daughter get her daddy to realize...God, to even think about her as... as what, a lover? I didn't even understand how I felt, what I wanted, but knew the penis that was haunting me, daddy's penis, knew it was the only one for me.
"So, have you decided yet?" Daddy asked a week later. "You know, jewelry,
clothes, a Christmas present," he added when he saw my look of incomprehension.
"I don't need anything...really."
"Nothing? Not a pretty dress, a sweater, a coat?" Dad insisted.
"Just underwear," I finally said.
"Huh?"
"My friends all say my underwear is old, falling apart...disgusting."
"What do you mean falling apart, disgusting? Don't you have normal girl's
underwear?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Not according to them."
"Let me see them," daddy suddenly insisted. "My daughters wearing old
underwear?" he questioned aloud.
"Daddy," I protested, elated at how well my little plot was proceeding. "You
don't want to see my underwear," I said with a tone that indicted how gross I
found the idea. But I did stare pointedly at the drawer where I'd purposely
placed my very old and icky panties and bras...stuff I hadn't worn for months, even a couple of pairs of panties I'd actually been using as rags.
I finally let him talk me into showing him and laughed inwardly when he saw the pile of castoffs I unceremoniously dumped on my bed.
"Jesus, you wear these?" he asked, obviously aghast.
"Well..."
"Here...go and buy some new stuff...today...now," he ordered as he pulled a
credit card from his wallet. "I don't care what you spend...I'm throwing these
all out right now," he promised as he struggled to gather up the stained and
torn underwear. "Hurry...go!"
"Daddy!"
"I'm serious. God, I'm tempted to go all through your closets. You've always
seemed well dressed," he asked with a question in his voice. "Doesn't your
mother discuss these things with you?"
"You'll have to come with me."
Daddy was clearly nervous when we entered the first of what I envisioned to be at least three separate stops. But I could sense his excitement. And as it
turned out we only needed one store to fill our needs.
It was a small, specialized boutique, expensive and empty on a Sunday afternoon. The owner, a pretty, well dressed thirty something year old, immediately sized daddy up correctly as very wealthy, his watch and his well cut, expensive clothes a dead give away.
She also assumed, incorrectly, that I was daddy's little plaything. She was on
him like a vulture as soon as we were two steps into the shop.
How could she help monsieur? Daddy, flustered, simply answered truthfully, "She has nothing to wear. It's pitiful. We need everything."
Monique, as she insisted we call her, was a fairly new arrival from France, and at daddy's words her eyes lit up like a cash register. She immediately turned and after locking the door, affixed the closed sign in the windows. "Excellent. Follow me," she ordered, then led us into a smaller, more sumptuously appointed dressing room, where she installed dad into an ornate chair that resembled a throne.
Leaving me standing in the center of the mirrored room, she hurried off to the store room, promising she'd be back with a perfect selection for me. Within minutes she'd piled thirty boxes on the table in the corner as well as pushed a rolling clothes rack stuffed with lingerie filled hangers.
"Please strip my dear," Monique demanded.
"But," both daddy and I started to protest as Monique started to undo the
buttons on my dress.
"It's the only way to buy lingerie sir," she said addressing father as she
slipped the dress off my shoulders. "Oh my gawd," she cried when she saw the ugly, plain and torn bra and panties I wore. "You simply can't do this my dear. A beautiful dress like this and then...uhhhgg, these....these rags. I'm sorry sir." She quickly unclasped my bra and pushed my panties down my legs.
"Can I throw these out sir?" she asked as she held my underwear at arms length.
"Yes," daddy agreed, "and maybe I should go while you two continue. I'm..."
"No dadddddy. Stay. Please. I won't know what to buy."
For just a second Monique's eyebrows rose in surprise, but then, quickly
recovering, she said, "It's even more important you stay. Your daughter!
Imagine, letting her dress like this when you show such refinement in your own clothes sir. You have the responsibility monsieur. "
Daddy stayed as Monique took stock of me and started commenting. I shyly stood with one hand partially covering my hairy mound, the other across my chest. Standing behind me Monique took my arms and lowered them to my sides.
"But," I protested even as I watched daddy's eyes hungrily appraising me.
"What's your name my dear," she asked, aware now that it wasn't just daddy she'd have to please.
"Gabriella, Gabby."
"It's a beautiful name...for a beautiful woman," she purred as she slid her
hands from my arms and moved them over my stomach and the upward until she'd cupped my breasts.
"You're so lucky mademoiselle...they're so beautiful...firm...full...Look
Monsieur Downing," she ordered daddy, "most women would die for such breasts. Here, give me your hand," she told him after she moved me until I was standing right in front of dad.
"I don't think I," daddy started
"See how full, how soft they are?" she asked a blushing daddy as she moved his hand over me. "And the nipples....incroyable," she muttered as her other hand squeezed my now fat and erect nipple. "They must be covered only by beautiful cloth," she added as I felt daddy involuntarily tweak my other nipple.
We spent over two hours with Monique, two hours during which I tried on fifty bras, fifty panties...every color, every style, every material, every possible cut.
Again and again I stood naked and open before daddy, felt his hand on my bum, my breasts, my thighs as Monique demanded that he check the feel, the cut, or check the fit.
"She has such a round, cute derriere," cooed Monique as she guided dad's hand over my trembling skin. "Split so perfectly," she went on as she slid a finger down my crack.
"You should trim this a bit," she instructed me later as she ran her fingers
through my bush as she pulled a sexy green tanga up my thighs. And then, for just a second she slipped a finger inside me. She felt my moistness.
"Viens, look Monsieur," she instructed daddy, "see how her hair escapes when she
wears these? She must trim her pretty fur...Maybe you should help her...it's
always difficult for a young girl to do it herself." She actually made me stand in front of daddy as she gave pubic barbering instructions to father.
"I don't think I should be the one," daddy finally protested, clearly not sure
whether to laugh or cry.
"C'est fou. You Americans are like children," she complained. "It's a father's
duty to make sure his daughter is ready, understands what her role is...knows
about men, sex...my father showed me."
"She was horrible," I complained as we walked from the shop, both our arms laden with packages. "Gosh, I think she was a lesbian. She kept touching me. And they cost so much."
"She was a bit strange sweetie. Foreigners! But we can't take it with us. Why
not spend it and enjoy it?"
"And what did she mean when she said her father showed her? Showed her what?"
"I don't know sweetie," dad answered as he shook his head.
"The underwear, don't you think they're too....too sexy...too grown up for me?"
"They're perfect sweetie. You look beautiful in them. Merry Christmas," he said as he gave me a hug and a kiss.
"I do? I love you daddy. I'll miss you so much at Christmas."
"You'll have a great time with mommy."
"Hah ha." But after dinner, after we'd watched a movie together, and after I'd
showered and put on one of my cute new bra/panty outfits, I approached dad with scissors and tweezers in hand, and asked lasciviously , "So do you want to trim me tonight, Monsieur Downing."
"Go to bed," he growled.
"But papa, Monique says it's your job to make sure your little darling daughter is properly coifed," I said with a sexy wink.
"Gabby!" dad insisted, dismissing me, but I saw the twinkle in his eye, I couldn't have missed how his eyes undressed me. I knew he'd love to trim my pussy.
"Bonsoir papa," I cooed, then left wiggling my cute little butt. Shit, I
thought, if I had to spend my nights dreaming of daddy he should have something to dream of too.
The Friday following, the sixteenth of December, school closed for our Christmas break. Daddy was to leave for his long booked vacation to Martinique on Sunday while I was scheduled to fly to moms on the following day. Mom called during dinner.
Daddy watched me as I listened to mom talk. Raised his eyebrows when I yelled 'I hate you' and slammed down the phone.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
"Sure?"
"Yes," I yelled as I fled the table, secretly elated at the news.
"Honey," I heard insistently repeated as dad knocked on my door.
"Leave me alone."
"Gabby! Open up...I want to talk to you," daddy called through the door an hour later.
"NO."
"Mommy called me."
"She's a bitch. I hate her."
"Can I come in?"
"Yes," I finally called softly.
"Why are you smiling?" I demanded when I saw the broad smile on his face.
"I get to spend Christmas with my favorite girl and I shouldn't be happy?" he
asked as he sat next to me and drew me into his arms.
"You're going to Martinique," I complained.
"I'll cancel tomorrow."
"That's not fair. You've been looking forward to your holiday for months. I'll
stay here. I'm sure the Sloans would let me stay with them."
"Yeah sure."
"Mom just thinks of herself," I sobbed, my tears falling on dad's broad chest.
"Where would you like to go? We could go to Colorado, Aspen, or maybe the Alps," daddy offered.
"Its too cold, brrr," I said as I pushed myself farther into his warm embrace.
"Would you like to go to Martinique?" he suddenly asked. "I'm already booked. Maybe we could just book another seat. Would you..."
"But that's your place, you probably don't want me around," I answered, my heart almost stopped as I waited for daddy's response.
"Nonsense, I'll call Ginny right now. Get her to work on it."
Two hours later Ginny reported back that, "No problem, you two are all set. You leave Sunday; make sure Gabby has her passport."
Yes! Yes! From total depression to elation in like three hours...Daddy and
I...alone...an island resort...sharing a private beach villa...Yes, thank you
God!
For I had researched the place daddy was planning to spend his vacation. I had grown both angry and jealous as I'd read the reviews of 'Plage Francais
Martinique', an exclusive resort set majestically on the less crowded south
coast. Catering mainly to rich, young Europeans, it featured a clothing optional beach and aimed its advertising at a more sexually liberated clientele.
Why had daddy been planning to go to a nude resort? Now we'd be naked together.
MARTINIQUE: CHRISTMAS 2005
We landed late in the evening at Lamentin Airport on Sunday, delayed by bad weather in Richmond. The resort, a sort of upscale, way upscale in fact, Club Med, was located on the south coast between the towns of Le Diamant and Le Marin on five hundred private acres that hugged the Caribbean.
After finally checking in we were driven by golf cart from the main hotel to our private villa, one of fifty that radiated out from the main hotel. We arrived exhausted at three in the morning.
"It only has one bed," a tired dad complained to the young, black, smiling
Martiniquais who'd escorted us.
"Monsieur?" he asked, clearly not comfortable in English.
"Tomorrow daddy, we'll figure it out tomorrow...I'm exhausted."
"Well I guess I can sleep on the couch."
"It's a king size bed daddy...lets just go to sleep." We slept together.
"We better go this way," daddy directed as he grabbed my arm and started to lead me to the left towards the hotel. We'd just eaten breakfast on the porch of our villa, plates full of fresh fruit and buns and coffee, smilingly delivered by a beautiful, topless black woman dressed only in a brightly colored floral skirt.
Daddy had blushed furiously when I told him I now understood why he came here.
"It's my first time," he promised. "They're French...its different..." he
stammered.
"Well, I guess if I'm going to fit in," I said, and then unhooked my bikini top
and placed it on the table.
"Gabby," dad protested resignedly.
"Let's see what's over here," I said pointing when we'd left the table and he
tried to direct me to the left towards the hotel. I danced out of his grip and
turned right.
"I don't think," he started, clearly uncomfortable.
"Gosh, they're all naked daddy," I blurted out when we passed a little grove of jacaranda and found ourselves facing at least a hundred people lying on the white, sun drenched sand.
"This is the clothing optional area honey...Europeans have a more liberal view towards..." he stammered.
"Oh, look at them," I squealed, pointing at two cute looking boys walking
towards us, their uncircumcised pricks swinging freely.
"You're not going to make this easy for your dad, are you honey?"
"No daddy," I giggled as I dropped my towel and beach things on an open spot on the sand.
"I didn't think so."
I quickly unhooked my skirt, and trembling, lowered my bikini bottoms. I could pretend to daddy that I was cool with it all, but inside, I was an eighteen year old virgin who'd never seen a penis 'live' in my life. I was shaking like a leaf.
"I'm so white," I complained. "Will you?" I asked as I handed daddy a 45 SPF sun block. "Have you done this before? Nudism? I mean other holidays," I tried to ask casually.
"Turn around," dad said, ignoring my question.
"It feels nice daddy," I complimented as his strong hands caressed the lotion
into my back. "Now my front?' I asked as I spun around and faced him.
"I think you'll be able to do that sweetie," he answered, slapping the tube of
lotion into my palm.
"You're a spoilsport," I pouted as I slowly rubbed the cream into my chest. But then couldn't help staring as daddy lowered his suit. Oh my gawd!
"Gabby," he admonished after I gave a small appreciative whistle.
"It's the first one I've seen so close up. Can I touch it," I teased. But inside
I knew. It was the same thick organ that had haunted my dreams for the last
month. It was beautiful.
"Go for a swim Gabby," he ordered.
"Oui papa," I said as I flounced off towards the surf. But I couldn't help but
be aware of the hundred some pairs of male eyes that followed my every step. I loved it. Even stopped and turned back to daddy and waved. Let them see my jiggling breasts, my pubic patch. Gosh, men want me! Even daddy, I knew.
"Monsieur Downing, this is Jean-Claude and Pierre, they're from Paris...they're pilots for Air France," I told daddy as I introduced the two men I'd met while I was in the water.
"Monsieur Downing?" daddy asked quizzically when the boys left a couple of minutes later.
"I told them you were a rich American...that you'd hired me to be your sex slave for the week."
"You're incorrigible."
"I know," I agreed, smiling happily, then leaned over and gave him a kiss.
"Everyone will think you're so lucky, an old man like you, having a beautiful
young lover like me."
"Old man?"
"Why didn't you have any more children? After me, I mean," I asked later as we lay side by side on the beach.
"I wanted to, heck, I wanted at least five...your mom...your birth was harder
than most, she was afraid the next one would be worse. She decided...I agreed," he answered, his voice trailing off.
"What about after? When mom left. How come you didn't remarry?" I probed.
"Well," he started after giving me a quick pensive look, "Women weren't my
favorite people for awhile after your mom left."
"You still loved mom?"
"I don't know honey. I was just pissed off. Period. Everything had always come so easy to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Your grandparents were well off; they brought me up in a loving house. I did well in school, sports star...the prettiest girl fell in love with me...college
was great...I start a business and it booms...I'm rich...then have you," he
said. "Then Mr. Perfect's wife walks out... she's bored."
"I'm sorry daddy."
"Christ Gabby, don't feel sorry for me. I just had never realized how good I had it. That taught me," he finished, the bitterness he still felt at mom clear in his voice.
"But why not later? Someone else?"
"I guess I never found the right girl," he said with a rueful grin. "Girls like
you are hard to come by. Now if yoooouuu'd been available sweetie," he teased. "Now c'mon, let's go for a swim."
"I'm available daddy," I whispered under my breath as hand in hand we ran into the surf.
As we stood toweling off twenty minutes later I restarted our conversation.
"Will you now, have children I mean, now that I'm going to be leaving soon?" I asked. "I know women like you, find you attractive."
"Do you young lady? And how would you know that?" he asked with a smile.
"All my girlfriends think you're soooo hot," I teased.
"An old man like me?"
"They do," I insisted. "And half the women on this beach are watching you, even the ones with men. Look at that blond over there; she's been watching you ever since we got here."
"Sshhhh," daddy ordered as he took a quick backwards glance. "Which one? You mean the pretty little blond?"
"Yes daddy, although you wouldn't know by looking at her mound."
"Gabby!" dad laughed.
"Gosh, ninety percent of these women seem to shave down there daddy, I thought
all European women liked to have hairy armpits and legs," I said, feigning a
little pout. "Maybe I should..."
"You're fine just as you are young lady."
"I am? Do you prefer your lovers to have hair here daddy?" I asked with a grin, my hands lightly touching my mound, separating my nether lips as I framed my sex questioningly.
"Yes," he finally answered.
"I'll never shave then," I promised.
"I'd like to have another child...someday...someday soon," daddy suddenly
started a little later. "Have more. Would you mind?" he asked, a serious
expression on his face.
"With who?"
"That's the problem," he laughed.
"You'll have grandkids soon. Maybe that'll be enough."
"You're far too young. And grandkids with who, if I may ask?"
"That's my problem too," I said smiling. "Gosh, I gotta lose my virginity
first."
I heard daddy expel a lungful of air but for seconds he said nothing. "Aren't
you going to say anything?" I finally demanded.
"Phewww," he finally said with a grin.
"Where are your pajamas?" Daddy asked later that night after we'd returned from a great dinner and an evening watching a Caribbean themed show put on by the staff. We'd met some other couples but generally the language barrier had kept us apart. I did get a couple of dances with my pilots though.
"I didn't bring them, I usually sleep naked now anyway," I said with a shrug,
standing in the warm room just in a pair of my new panties and holding an
electric toothbrush in my hand. "It's so warm here. Do you wear pj's?" I asked watching him as he stood nervously in his boxers.
"I'll sleep in these," he said casually. "I think I'd better take the couch."
"Don't be silly. We've already had this argument. It's a king size bed daddy."
"Still."
"Oh okay, I'll sleep on the bloody couch if it bothers you. Gosh, men are
impossible!"
Ten minutes later the two of us were settled comfortably in the big bed, me
completely naked, daddy still in his boxers. Once he'd fallen asleep his sneaky little daughter curled up against the one man she loved. Yummy!
"It was nice," I said the next morning as we sat on the veranda that faced the
blue surf that was breaking on the golden sand just a hundred feet away.
"What honey?"
"Sleeping with you. I'd forgotten."
"It's been a long time," he said as he looked up, remembering the same memories as I. "Oh, its raaaining daddy. And thunder...can I sleep with you tonight," he said, mimicking the excuses I'd used as an eight year old to snuggle next to him.
"It was," I protested, "I got so scared."
"I think it thundered four times a week for two years," he laughed. "Then you grew up. You didn't want anything to do with an old man like me. Private room and phone lines, boyfriends, diaries, secrets..."
"It was you, you'd always protected me. And then bingo, you kicked me out. I can't sleep in your bed anymore, I'm a big girl, la did ah," I accused. "I
missed you."
"I did too sweetie."
"Anyway, I think now that I'm grown up I'm going to like sleeping in a man's bed."
"There's no rush Gabby," daddy cautioned, "in fact if I were you I'd wait til
you've graduated university."
"Another four years. Hah."
"I'll buy you a big teddy bear for your dorm. You can sleep with it."
"Maybe. But for the next two weeks I think I'll keep the big teddy bear I
have... okay" I asked as I leaned over and gave my father a kiss on the cheek.
"As long as you're good," he warned.
"I'll be good daddy," I promised.
We went directly to the nude beach after breakfast, this time neither of us in
the least bit nervous over the others nudity.
"Do you like my breasts daddy?" I asked as leaning towards him I cupped them and
pointed them at his suddenly alive eyes.
"They're so-so...okay I guess," he teased back, "for a teenager." The naked
desire in his eyes gave me his real answer.
"You're penis is beautiful...for a man," I responded, and boldly moved my eyes back and forth from his groin to his eyes.
"Young girls shouldn't be looking at men's private parts," he admonished, but I could see his pride. I watched as he couldn't stop it from starting to grow. He turned over on his stomach.
"Do you think my bums nice?" I asked later as daddy's sun screen covered fingers slid down my back and onto my rear.
"Yes honey, it's perfect," he answered
"Make sure you don't miss anywhere, I don't want it to burn. Why's it perfect anyway?" I asked looking back over my shoulder.
"Well Miss Downing," he started gravely, "first off it's just the ideal size." He said this as his two palms cupped my cheeks and kneaded lightly. "And the two sides are perfect balls, symmetrical; they fit exactly in my hands. And when you're lying like this, your bum sticks just wonderfully up, inviting every man..."
Just as I felt a finger slide across and up my crack, lightly touch my anus, as I felt the wetness seeping from my pussy, his other hand descended in a sharp slap.
"Daddddy!" I squealed.
"Stop fishing for compliments. Now how about going and getting your father a beer at the bar."
"You're cruel," I complained, but he saw the happy smile on my face as I jumped up to do his bidding. "Is there a red mark?" I asked as I wiggled my derriere in his face.
"Go!"
"Are European men all smaller than us daddy," I asked.
"What are you talking about?" he said as he lifted his head and looked over at me.
"Their penises...yours is bigger than anyone else's...I thought maybe Europeans were..."
"Honey, we're of European descent."
"Then why," I started before he interrupted.
"As you well know Gabby, men, just like women, come in different sizes. And anyway, when a man gets...well, when he has a..."
"A hard-on?"
"Well yes. When we have ... hard-ons it's not always the same. A small man may double in size, a bigger man may just harden without getting much larger."
"That's not true. I know you grow much bigger."
"What? Why do you say that?"
"You poked me. Last night," I added when I saw the question in his eyes. "Like at least five times I woke up, every time you were hard, poking my stomach or my bum or my thighs."
"I didn't."
"And then when the sun came up," I continued, "I woke again and it was hard, right against my...my hair...my slit."
"Jesus. I'm sorry Gabby, I didn't do it on purpose."
"I know. I checked, you were sleeping. But I do know its very big daddy, bigger than any of the men here," I said, indicating with a sweep of my hand all the men surrounding us.
"Well maybe a bit above average."
"It felt nice when I touched it."
"What?"
"Can I put sunscreen on it?" I asked as I squirted a fat dollop into my hand. He simply said nothing as I lifted it from his thigh, groaned just once softly as my palm closed around him. It felt perfect. Soon, I thought.
That night we dressed up for dinner, at least dressed up Martinique style. Daddy was yacht club sporty in silk Tommy Bahamas pants and shirt and I wore a light, red, spaghetti strapped summer dress that flowed just over my knees and had a décolleté cut that displayed my large, firm breasts to perfection.
"Are you wearing a bra?"
"No daddy, it wouldn't be appropriate for this dress or this occasion," I said as I cupped my breasts through the dress and lifted them.
"All that money I spent on lingerie and you can't find one bra that's appropriate?" he groused, then added, "You are wearing panties?"
Putting my arms up like a ballerina I quickly twirled around in front of daddy, knowing he'd see my naked, hair covered loins as the dress billowed upward.
Shaking his head he simply muttered, "Jesus," then took my arm and led me to the door.
"They've all seen me anyway."
"Do you like her?" I asked after daddy had returned from his dances with the blond German.
"She's nice. And what did your French boys have to say when I was gone?"
"They're nice. Don't change the subject...Would you like to sleep with her?"
"Certainly not. I've already got enough trouble with the woman who's sleeping with me."
"So you prefer sleeping with me," I asked boldly, bending at just the right angle so that daddy could see the pink, erect tips of my jiggling tits.
"Would you like to dance Miss Downing?" he asked.
"Uh huh," I whispered as I melted into his arms. It was the first time I'd ever danced with a man. A real man. Oh, the boys I'd been going to parties with for the last three or four years were male, sometimes they'd even push their cocks into me, I didn't complain, in fact even liked it, but it wasn't like this.
Daddy made them feel and look like boys. It surprised me to realize as we danced, my cheek resting on his shoulder, my bra-less breasts squashed against his chest, that it had taken me so long to recognize what my girlfriends had known for years. Daddy had a masculinity about him that eclipsed just about every male I'd ever seen. He waaaas hot.
There was no pretense now. I simply plastered myself against daddy. Slipped my arms around his neck. I felt him start to grow against my stomach and then held him tight when he tried to move away. We didn't talk for dance after dance. His hands roved over my bum, squeezing, separating, pulling me into his now proudly hard penis.
We drank some wine and then danced some more. Kissed liked lovers.
We were both tired and slightly drunk when we finally stumbled into our villa at three-thirty in the morning. We both knew a deal had been struck, that it was only a matter of time, but also knew we were too bushed to do it that night...soon, we promised each other silently as we kissed at the edge of the bed.
"Remember we have the picnic tomorrow," I reminded as I nestled my rear and back against my father's strong body.
"Night Gabby," he whispered in my ear, his breath a warm caress. He wrapped his arm over me, lightly holding me, then moved his hand softly over my belly, up to cup my breast, and then down over my hip and thigh.
"Night daddy, I love you," I said as I wiggled my bum and captured his hardening penis in my crack. "Tomorrow daddy...tomorrow," I promised, knowing I'd surrender my virginity to him the next day. I fell asleep already dreaming.
"Hurry. Wake up sleepyhead," I insisted as I shook daddy's shoulder at ten-thirty the next morning.
"Gabby? Let me sleep honey," he moaned as he rolled away from my hand and onto his back.
"Daddy! Our boat leaves in thirty minutes. Wake up."
"He'll wait for us sweetie, we're his only customers."
"I've already gone for a swim in the ocean, showered, had breakfast," I complained. "Go and wash."
"I don't need a shower, wake me three minutes before we have to leave," he ordered, then shutting his eyes he feigned going back to sleep.
"You're all sticky," I said as I ran my hand over his stomach and down the inside of his thigh.
"Huh?" he mumbled, his eyes lazily opening.
"You came daddy...this morning...when I woke it was spurting...white stuff...it was on my stomach, my breasts, my...my hair daddy...down here," I indicated, rubbing my hand across my mound through the panties I wore.
"I didn't..." he started.
"It was sticky, gooey," I said giggling as I straddled his chest.
"Are you making this up?" he demanded, now fully awake.
"I tried to clean you daddy. With my tongue," I said as I licked my lips. "You taste good, very good," I teased as I bent and captured his lips in mine.
"We're late Gabby, stop fooling around," he ordered as he struggled to escape me.
The hotel had prepared everything. They owned a couple of small islands just a mile from the resort, islands that guests could reserve for the day. They'd boat you out and then leave you, returning late in the afternoon to pick you up.
I dressed simply, a white, wide brimmed hat, a necklace of pearls, sandals and a long, white cotton, tiered peasant skirt. The pearls danced between my breasts when daddy and I finally walked hand in hand across the beach towards the waiting boat.
"You look beautiful sweetie."
"Thanks daddy," I answered while slipping my arm around his back. "They're all jealous of me," I added, indicating the naked female sunbathers we were passing.
"Jealous?"
"They all wish it was they who were going with you," I said, resting my head for a second against his shoulder. "They all wish they could spend an afternoon in your arms."
"None of them are as beautiful as you Gabby," he said as his arm pulled me even tighter against him.
"Kiss me...before we get in the boat...please," I pled as I turned into him and pressed myself into him.
"You're a little imp, a trouble maker," he accused.
"I know," I answered as I stood on tiptoe and after pulling his head towards me, I hungrily captured his mouth. "I love you."
We motored through a break in the reef and glided the last few feet almost soundlessly to the protected beach. On the edge of the beach, under the fronds of a cluster of palm trees, they'd set up a pavilion, amply provisioned with food and beverages. It had a couch, a table and chairs, a bed...a large bed with silk sheets, sheets that seemed to rustle as the light ocean breezes touched them.
"I have my Christmas present for you," I said as we watched the boat motor off.
"Where is it? I didn't see you bring anything."
"You'll be the only man who'll ever have it. It's unique...one of a kind," I teased as I took off my hat and sent it sailing on the wind.
"Is it?"
"I've saved it all my life...just for you," I said as I let my skirt fall to the warm sand.
"Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?" My handsome dad asked as he started to move towards me.
"You'll definitely need to be an animal to take it," I enticed, my left hand now lightly stroking my thick pubic pelt as I backed slowly towards the sea.
"Are you sure Gabby?"
"Well, you've got to catch me first," I giggled, then turned and ran into the surf and dove into the warm water. I'd only taken three strokes in the water before I felt a hand grab my ankle and trap me.
"C'mon here," he ordered as he pulled me back. Lifted me out of the water, crushed me hard against his strong chest, then carried me laughing up the beach. Laid me gently on the bed set up under the pavilion.
"You're hard," I said as I slipped my hand between our bodies and circled his thick shaft.
"I'll be gentle," he promised as he lay next to me.
"Don't. I want you in me...now daddy," I pled as I spread my legs wantonly, opening my already moist insides to him.
"Gabby, sweetie," he started, one hand cupping my head as his other moved to my breasts.
"Hurry daddy, I need you," I moaned, knowing I'd never be readier.
My shriek tore across the bay and over the island, stopping for seconds the cacophony of sounds coming from the birds in the palm trees all around us.
I was bloodied, ruined, rent by his long shaft after it tore through my feeble guardian of skin, my hymen now split and destroyed.
"Ahhhh...aah...aahh...aahhh...oh daddddy," I cried as his immensity filled me, buried itself in my clasping, slippery pink cave. A million nerve endings lit up, sending a mixed message of pain and ecstasy to my stunned brain.
I was lost, unaware of anything except the hard piston that was repeatedly driven to the door of my womb. My orgasmic spasms radiated out and in, in tempo with daddy's passionate thrusts, demanding to be flooded by his liquid seed.
He simply continued to move inside of me as my first waves of need subsided, playing my body, my cunt, like a maestro violinist, repeatedly bringing me to the brink before slowing down his thrusting bow.
My hips were arched a foot off the bed, oozing, when my second orgasm was met by his first spurting deluge of sperm. 'La petite mort' the French call it, that second when you're completely taken, filled, drained...fucked. Completely defenseless!
As daddy slowly retreated, removing his sticky cock from my sex, I felt a loss that threatened to engulf me, cried, maybe screamed, "No, no daddy...please...stay...I need you."
"Hush baby," he answered as he engulfed me in his warmth. "Oh Gabby..."
He touched me, began by soft caresses. Our urgency still there as our hands moved relentlessly on the other.
A mans mouth on my nipples, a wet tongue circling my hard nipples, a mans caress on my cheek, thick fingers moving over my mound, my ass,
His cock, hard again, proud, filling me, filling his gasping, needy daughter. Making me thrash and writhe under him. My urgent upward thrusts of my hips an unconscious natural reaction that simply demonstrated my slavery to this man. To his cock.
A second sperm filled flood. I died a little more.
He carried me down to the surf, smiling, laughing in joy at the perfection of our union. As he carried me my hand found his cock, still impossibly hard and long. "Again?" I whispered in awe, my teenage girl's previous tentative research coming nowhere close to the reality of the feeling of this man inside me.
We made love in the breaking surf, daddy simply lifted me effortlessly up and down on his straining shaft. My head was buried in his neck, my warm tears trickling over his shoulder when his first bucking spurt of cum pumped deep inside of me.
"I love you," I whispered.
"You're crying?"
"I'm so happy."
He washed me, then carried me back to my blood stained bed. I was lying on my back, sore, exhausted, almost asleep when I felt the first probing of his tongue. "Oh daddddy," I moaned as his lips captured my clit. 'I can't...it's too much...oh gawd...please...please daddy."
He had a finger in my rear, holding me, as he tongued me, then swallowed my juice as I writhed helplessly under him, my cries of ecstasy carried away on the wind.
"It s beautiful," I said later as my hand lifted his fat penis from its resting place on his thigh.
"You're awake," he said smiling, a total joyous acceptance of our love bursting from every pore in his face.
"Did I sleep long?" I ran my moist tongue over his nipple.
'A while. They'll be coming for us soon."
"Can't we stay here tonight?" I slithered down his body, keeping my eyes locked on his as I moved.
"We have our own villa," he laughed as he watched my tongue dart out and lick a drop of pre-cum from his crimson cockhead. "Sweetie," he groaned as I popped my lips around him and fisted his shaft in my small hand.
He hardened, lengthened in my mouth, filling me with just half his length. I tried to devour him, swallow him as I pumped with my hand...wanted to taste his sperm. He didn't let me.
Daddy lifted me off his cock, and then after turning me on my stomach, lifted my hips and spread my knees so that I was kneeling open before him. He was hard, powerful, commanding this time, all gentleness gone. This was a hard fucking that I found my body craved, each time he pulled my hips back to meet his thrusts I groaned in need, then finally was reduced to simply letting out a continuous whimpering sound that reflected my sexual slavery. Fuck me daddy, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME, my demented mind screamed.
The boat was puttering through the reef when daddy finally emptied himself in me again. The pilot had brought a young girl with him, a maid, to clean up while he delivered us back to the mainland. We walked slowly down to the boat, naked, daddy still half hard, me with thick, white cum dripping down my thighs. We didn't care.
But when the boat had started back we heard a loud cackling laugh come from the girl left on the shore, and looking back saw her holding the bloodstained sheet up in the wind as she laughed.
"I think someone may hear about us tonight daddy," I said as I nestled in the crook of his arm.
"Will you marry me?" he whispered to my ear and the soft wind.
Of course I was going to marry him...and have his babies...and... We were fated to be one.
by: VampLover69
Edited by: Lord Dark Star
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA: FALL 2005
Where'd those come from, I asked myself when I saw the burgundy colored panties lying among the pile of clean, white clothes I'd pulled out of the dryer and then just dropped in a pile onto my bed.
Huh, they're definitely not mine, I thought as I held the lacy satin up between my hands. I stretched them once, then again, and then drew them to my face where my nose picked up some still lingering odor on the just cleaned panties. A male scent?
Could one of my friends, maybe Laura or Jane, have inadvertently dropped them in my sport bag after phys ed today? And then I'd thrown them in with the wash? I knew immediately that was nonsense, both my friends invariably wore plain, white cotton shorts at school.
So where'd they come from? I'd never worn this style before. Curious I stripped off my sweats and underwear and tried them on. As soon as I pulled them up it seemed as though they'd been tailored especially for me. I liked the feel of them, low rise, cheeky boy shorts, a stretchy lace, a style I'd never used. They made me feel sexy.
I ran my hand down my stomach, let my middle finger trace my slit through the soft material, shivered as a moist spasm ignited deep in my sex. "Gosh, I should wear these always," I mumbled half aloud, then pranced over to the wall mirror and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. Quickly shed my white, cotton sports bra.
"I'm too sexy," I sang as I danced to my reflection, my long coltish legs moving rhythmically. Cupped and gently squeezed my full and jiggling, pink capped breasts. Then I noticed three or four rogue hairs that spilled from the lace edges of my new panties. I hadn't trimmed my dark pubic patch in months, the coming of autumn and the putting away of bathing suits had seemed to make it unnecessary.
I rolled down the panties a turn or two, exposing the full black triangle
designed by nature to lead a man's eyes down to a woman's sex. I saw how I was open, spread pink, moist...wow, it was still mid afternoon. What are these panties made of anyway?
I turned and, looking back over my shoulder, watched how my firm, high, round cheeks peeked from the tight panties trying unsuccessfully to conceal them. Just the presence of the soft cloth on my body seemed to be exciting me more than the two boys I'd been leading on for the last three months.
I lay back on the bed and slipped my hand under the elastic and then moved my fingers over my sex. Faster and faster. Tried to think of my two boyfriends, but then strangely, just as the full force of my orgasm radiated outwards I saw a long, hard prick, a man's prick, in my mind's eye. Then daddy's face slipped across my consciousness.
Daddy? Yuck! Not when I'm cumming!
I left them on as I did my homework, studied my math topless, was wet between my legs all afternoon. I left them on later while I cooked daddy's dinner.
"Hi sweetie, how was school. Soccer practice?"
"Good daddy," I answered as his arms engulfed me in his normal welcoming hug.
"You smell nice."
"I do?"
"Uh huh," I answered even as I realized I'd never really noticed daddy's odor, his scent, his maleness before. Not this way anyway. "Are you using a new aftershave? Deodorant? It's nice...manly, sexy." God, what did I just say, I asked myself silently.
"Same old, same old sweetie. And do I smell brownies?"
"I cooked them specially...it's your last night...I wanted to..."
"I love you sweetie," he laughed as he lifted me in the air and spun me around, a game we'd played a thousand times since I was three.
"I love you too daddy," I squealed as I my crossed legs around his waist and
threw my arms around his neck.
I felt my nipples suddenly stiffen; started to push them into his chest just
before he lowered me to the floor.
"I'm getting to old for this, I can hardly carry you," he joked, a broad grin on
his lips.
"Yeah right dad," I answered, both of us knowing how hard dad worked to keep his thirty-seven year old body in shape. At six-two and a chiseled one ninety-five, my father still had the hard athletes body he'd had winning football letters at U.V.A.
But then later, as we ate the meal I'd prepared, I kept asking myself, what is
wrong with you, he's your dad. And yet I couldn't help but feel the dampness
between my legs, the moist spot growing larger and larger on my new panties. I had to stop myself from looking at the bulge in the blue jeans my father had changed into. Wondered what it would feel like inside me.
The panties arrival in my wash would have remained one of those unexplained mysteries that occur to everyone, it would have, except later in the evening I went downstairs to get a soda.
Daddy was bent over in the laundry room, peering between the machines when I passed the door.
"Lose something Daddy?" I asked, still innocent.
"Oh sweetie," Daddy answered after jumping erect, a blush spreading across his face. "Darn socks...I seem to lose one every time I do a wash."
"Sock monsters," I laughed, agreeing even as the truth flooded through me. The flimsy cloth still girding my loins were daddies...somehow the panties I wore,
panties even now still damp from my need, somehow these panties had only
recently been fondled by daddy's strong hands.
Later that night I lay confused in bed as vivid images flooded my brain, images of an indistinct man stroking his immense cock with the same panties that were still resting tight against my throbbing sex. The same cock I'd seen at the moment of my orgasm earlier. It was Daddy's cock I knew now.
All night I tossed and turned, continually awakened by the imagined penetration of my virgin channel by my fathers prick.
Oh my gawd! This is sick.
The repeated knocking finally broke through my sleep. "Honey...honey...are you awake in there?"
"Dadddddy?" I mumbled as I slowly came to.
"Are you awake? It's late. Time to get up. You're going to be late for school."
He knocked again and then opened the door, and before looking in asked, "Are you decent? Can I come in?"
I pulled the sheet up so that it covered my breasts and then answered, "Uh huh, c'mon." Seeing daddy poke his head around the door I added yawning, "I forgot to set the alarm. What time is it?"
"Its seven fifteen, I gotta run," he answered as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed. "My flight's at nine."
"Oh gee, I forgot daddy, you're going to San Francisco today. A whole week, I'll miss you," I cried as I sat up and hugged him.
"You've got my schedule? Ginny said she e-mailed it to you. If you have any
questions call her at the office, or check on my computer. You've got the
password?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah, like I'm going to forget my name," I said, knowing father only used one password- 'Gabriella'. The sheet had fallen when I'd hugged daddy and even as I talked I felt a wave of excitement roll through my body. Knowing he could see my breasts, my fat, now erect nipples. He's just your dad I thought but then was suddenly aware of his panties which I still wore. God, don't let him see them I prayed silently.
"When will you be home?" I asked, holding the sheet tight against my stomach.
"Friday. If you have any problems...well, you know who to call."
We both laughed. I called daddy for the slightest reason, always had.
"Can I drive you to the airport?"
"No honey, the service will be here any minute. I'll call you every night...e-mail you," he promised as he stood.
"Give me a kiss," I demanded. He got about half cheek and half lip but for the first time in the thousand of father/daughter kisses we'd shared I felt a
frisson of sexual excitement. Dad was oblivious to it.
"Luv you," I whispered.
"You're my angel," he said standing again. But just before leaving the room he turned and asked, "Why aren't you wearing your pajamas anyway?"
And when I answered slyly, "I'm growing up daddy," I saw his eyes quickly flit to my quivering chest.
"Yes, yes, I think you are," he said with a shake of his head, and then added as he stood in the doorway, "Has your mom talked to you about...well you know?"
"About what daddy?" I asked grinning; my shoulders now pulled back to brazenly display my breasts.
"Uhh...you know...the birds and the bees stuff," he said grimacing.
"Birds and bees? Mommy?" I delayed, enjoying daddy's discomfort.
"Your mother...remember...that woman who lives in L.A."
"Do you mean sex daddy?" Seeing his embarrassed nod I answered, "She said you'd tell me everything...that it'd be better if a man explained the details."
"Your mother said that?"
"Maybe when you get home you and I can have a talk...I have a lot of questions daddy."
What is wrong with me? Miss Slut Tease with my daddy, I thought after he finally left.
My name is Gabriella Downing. Gabby. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm still a virgin. An eighteen year old certified American virgin. A good looking (beautiful?), tall teen whose black, silky hair cascades down my back almost to my small but perfectly rounded bum. A virgin whose hips and breasts had ripened into awakening womanhood over the last year. A girl who has increasingly felt the urge for sex.
No, you don't have to feel sorry for me because I'm still a virgin. Even though the Kinsey Institute reports that the average white, American girl loses her virginity at sixteen years, nine months of age, in my high school, in 2005, in upper class Richmond, Virginia, it wasn't either unusual or rare for an eighteen year old senior to still be intact.
In fact, of my five best friends and me, only two of us had actually been
penetrated by that male appendage designed for our deflowering, although Sally had recently admitted that she and Timmy were getting awfully close.
I probably would have lost mine myself last summer if my boyfriend Kevin's
father hadn't been suddenly transferred. I'd been just on the verge of giving in to Kevin's almost nonstop entreaties. But when he suggested it might be a nice going away present for him I gracefully declined, although almost as horny as he, I didn't want to lose my virginity to someone I'd never see again.
So I'd tentatively been test driving two of my classmates, Craig Brown and Jake Williams, all fall, and was still undecided about whether either should be my boyfriend, let alone my first lover.
So where'd all these weird thoughts about daddy come from, I asked myself as I soaped myself in the shower.
Does daddy really have that big a cock, I wondered, that cock, an image of which seemed now to be permanently etched in my brain. I knew that it was neither Craig nor Jake's penises I was dreaming of.
He probably did, I thought later as I sat through my History class, all my
friends had always thought he was sexy. Since we were like fourteen years old.
"Your dad is so hot, soooo hot," Laura or Janey or one of the others would
whisper in my ear when they saw dad, knowing it would always get a rise out of me.
"He is not!"
"I'll bet he's big," one of them would snicker as she held her hands a foot
apart.
"You're all disgusting," I'd admonish as they giggled at my embarrassment.
"What are you wearing?" Janey demanded as I bent to pull daddy's panties up my
legs. We'd just showered after our afternoon soccer practice.
"They're new," I answered shyly.
"Have you finally decided on one of your beaus? Trying to turn him on?" she asked, snooping.
"No."
"You're becoming a real slut Gabby," Jane teased.
I was! It was these bloody panties, every second I was wearing them my pussy seemed to hum.
We had an agreement daddy and I. Oh, it wasn't written down or anything, in fact we hadn't discussed it in over five years. Still, it existed. And now I was about to break it.
Mom left us when I was six. Just walked out on her young daughter and loving husband. At the time, my father had softly explained to his trembling daughter that mommy was tired, was a little sick, needed a little rest...that she'd come home soon...
I learned later that she just announced she needed 'some space' as she blithely explained it to her stunned husband and walked out. Mom was definitely different!
Then mom arrived back in my life when I was ten. She'd suddenly decided that it would be better for me if I lived with her in California. In the preceding four years she'd sent me six letters, phoned me twice and sent me one Christmas present!
Dad, who'd been told by his lawyers that he could tell mom to get lost and every court in the country would back him, instead let me decide, and even encouraged me to spend some time with her. After I'd made a couple of tentative visits to L.A., both supervised by dad, mom and dad and I had agreed as follows: I'd spend one month every summer with mom and every second Christmas with her.
And it turned out to be about perfect for both of us. Mom simply wasn't meant to be a full time mother. I knew she loved me but...but there was no one in the world she found more interesting than herself. It showed.
I'd learned to love her but after about twenty-five days in her company I'd
start to get itchy for dad and Richmond and my friends. By the last day of our month together we'd both be starting to go crazy. It was always a relief to go home.
So what has all this got to do with breaking my agreement with daddy? Well, when I arrived home from my annual summer trek to L.A. and mother's condo in 2000, I found daddy had completely redone my 'bedroom'.
Except it wasn't a bedroom anymore. In the month I'd been away contractors had taken two small bedrooms, an office, a washroom and a large hall cupboard and built me a master suite that rivaled dad's for comfort and luxury.
My first day home dad had taken me shopping and we'd outfitted 'my world' from furniture to sheets and towels. It was simply the Ritz. A TV. Hot tub/whirlpool bath. A study area, a play area. A huge room that was destined to become the place where my friends and I spent much of our free time over the following years.
Then, when everything was done, he announced, "It's all yours now Gabby."
"My room? What do you mean daddy?" I'd asked.
"What I mean sweetie is that even though there's no key on the door, this is
your room...I'll never invade your privacy."
"But you can come in anytime daddy."
And he'd always respected his word. Oh, the two of us would go into each others room if the door was open but I knew he'd never snoop. Knew that I could leave my diary open on my desk and he'd never read it.
And of course, although never discussed, I was bound to respect his privacy. I had never considered looking through his desk or papers. The whole concept was somehow icky.
So now of course I was trembling as I snuck down the hall. Knew even as I turned daddy's doorknob that I was doing something wrong. The gosh darn panties were making me do it! I was naked except for them. Blame them, I told myself.
Just as you'd know even blindfolded that my room was a girl's room, the scent in the air announcing it without any visual stimulus, so daddy's room similarly announced its maleness. I'd always secretly loved the room, the old four poster bed, the rich wood. I couldn't help but remember the nights when I was eight or nine or ten and had run into this room and jumped into daddy's warm bed as a thunderstorm had raged overhead.
Crying, I'd soon fall asleep in his reassuring arms...invariably wake up the
next morning snug in my own bed.
And now I was spying on him...rifling through his drawers...looking for...
They weren't even hidden. The third drawer I opened revealed his secret trove. Pink and blue and red and crimson and white and black, thongs and tangas, boy shorts, lace and satin, a veritable panty store. Oh god, I thought as I ran my fingers through them.
Each time I pulled one up my trembling legs and against my sex I knew daddy had touched the cloth, knew his penis had sought relief in their silken folds. On three of them were large stains of his dried and crusted seed. I actually rubbed the cum filled panties again and again up and down my moist crack.
I licked the sperm from one, ran my tongue damply over his caked essence, tasted daddy for the first time. Knew then that daddy had to be my first.
I slept in daddy's bed the rest of the week. Washed with his soap. Dabbed his
cologne on my breasts. I wore only his panties. Dreamt endlessly of a huge penis filling me. Daddy's penis. I was crazy.
"What are you doing here?" daddy asked after I'd met him waving at the gate. "You didn't have to."
"And have no one meet you?" I said as I hugged him.
"I'm glad you did honey, thanks," he said, then gave me a kiss on my cheek.
It was eight pm and he had just landed from his week long trip to the coast.
Both feeling guilty and excited I'd driven to the airport to meet him. I was
again wearing the panties, my pussy was tingling under them the whole drive home.
"Have you eaten?" he asked as I drove. Seeing my shake of my head he offered, "Why don't I take out my favorite girl out to a fancy dinner then?"
"You must be tired daddy, I'll cook you something," I said, giving him a quick loving smile.
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Thanks honey, I am tired."
"You go have a shower while I cook the steaks," I ordered.
"Are you angling for something special for Christmas?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yes," I laughed, "now go on, it'll be ready in twenty minutes."
"Yes ma'am."
I could be his wife I thought, as singing happily I cooked daddy's dinner.
"So, what do you want for Christmas anyway," he asked between bites.
"It's a secret. I told Santa," I said smiling.
"Did ya? Any hints for the guy with the credit card?"
"It won't cost you anything," I answered mysteriously.
"No jewelry? Clothes? Cameras?"
"You'll see."
I lay awake that night, thinking, wondering, trying to plan. How does an
eighteen year old daughter get her daddy to realize...God, to even think about her as... as what, a lover? I didn't even understand how I felt, what I wanted, but knew the penis that was haunting me, daddy's penis, knew it was the only one for me.
"So, have you decided yet?" Daddy asked a week later. "You know, jewelry,
clothes, a Christmas present," he added when he saw my look of incomprehension.
"I don't need anything...really."
"Nothing? Not a pretty dress, a sweater, a coat?" Dad insisted.
"Just underwear," I finally said.
"Huh?"
"My friends all say my underwear is old, falling apart...disgusting."
"What do you mean falling apart, disgusting? Don't you have normal girl's
underwear?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Not according to them."
"Let me see them," daddy suddenly insisted. "My daughters wearing old
underwear?" he questioned aloud.
"Daddy," I protested, elated at how well my little plot was proceeding. "You
don't want to see my underwear," I said with a tone that indicted how gross I
found the idea. But I did stare pointedly at the drawer where I'd purposely
placed my very old and icky panties and bras...stuff I hadn't worn for months, even a couple of pairs of panties I'd actually been using as rags.
I finally let him talk me into showing him and laughed inwardly when he saw the pile of castoffs I unceremoniously dumped on my bed.
"Jesus, you wear these?" he asked, obviously aghast.
"Well..."
"Here...go and buy some new stuff...today...now," he ordered as he pulled a
credit card from his wallet. "I don't care what you spend...I'm throwing these
all out right now," he promised as he struggled to gather up the stained and
torn underwear. "Hurry...go!"
"Daddy!"
"I'm serious. God, I'm tempted to go all through your closets. You've always
seemed well dressed," he asked with a question in his voice. "Doesn't your
mother discuss these things with you?"
"You'll have to come with me."
Daddy was clearly nervous when we entered the first of what I envisioned to be at least three separate stops. But I could sense his excitement. And as it
turned out we only needed one store to fill our needs.
It was a small, specialized boutique, expensive and empty on a Sunday afternoon. The owner, a pretty, well dressed thirty something year old, immediately sized daddy up correctly as very wealthy, his watch and his well cut, expensive clothes a dead give away.
She also assumed, incorrectly, that I was daddy's little plaything. She was on
him like a vulture as soon as we were two steps into the shop.
How could she help monsieur? Daddy, flustered, simply answered truthfully, "She has nothing to wear. It's pitiful. We need everything."
Monique, as she insisted we call her, was a fairly new arrival from France, and at daddy's words her eyes lit up like a cash register. She immediately turned and after locking the door, affixed the closed sign in the windows. "Excellent. Follow me," she ordered, then led us into a smaller, more sumptuously appointed dressing room, where she installed dad into an ornate chair that resembled a throne.
Leaving me standing in the center of the mirrored room, she hurried off to the store room, promising she'd be back with a perfect selection for me. Within minutes she'd piled thirty boxes on the table in the corner as well as pushed a rolling clothes rack stuffed with lingerie filled hangers.
"Please strip my dear," Monique demanded.
"But," both daddy and I started to protest as Monique started to undo the
buttons on my dress.
"It's the only way to buy lingerie sir," she said addressing father as she
slipped the dress off my shoulders. "Oh my gawd," she cried when she saw the ugly, plain and torn bra and panties I wore. "You simply can't do this my dear. A beautiful dress like this and then...uhhhgg, these....these rags. I'm sorry sir." She quickly unclasped my bra and pushed my panties down my legs.
"Can I throw these out sir?" she asked as she held my underwear at arms length.
"Yes," daddy agreed, "and maybe I should go while you two continue. I'm..."
"No dadddddy. Stay. Please. I won't know what to buy."
For just a second Monique's eyebrows rose in surprise, but then, quickly
recovering, she said, "It's even more important you stay. Your daughter!
Imagine, letting her dress like this when you show such refinement in your own clothes sir. You have the responsibility monsieur. "
Daddy stayed as Monique took stock of me and started commenting. I shyly stood with one hand partially covering my hairy mound, the other across my chest. Standing behind me Monique took my arms and lowered them to my sides.
"But," I protested even as I watched daddy's eyes hungrily appraising me.
"What's your name my dear," she asked, aware now that it wasn't just daddy she'd have to please.
"Gabriella, Gabby."
"It's a beautiful name...for a beautiful woman," she purred as she slid her
hands from my arms and moved them over my stomach and the upward until she'd cupped my breasts.
"You're so lucky mademoiselle...they're so beautiful...firm...full...Look
Monsieur Downing," she ordered daddy, "most women would die for such breasts. Here, give me your hand," she told him after she moved me until I was standing right in front of dad.
"I don't think I," daddy started
"See how full, how soft they are?" she asked a blushing daddy as she moved his hand over me. "And the nipples....incroyable," she muttered as her other hand squeezed my now fat and erect nipple. "They must be covered only by beautiful cloth," she added as I felt daddy involuntarily tweak my other nipple.
We spent over two hours with Monique, two hours during which I tried on fifty bras, fifty panties...every color, every style, every material, every possible cut.
Again and again I stood naked and open before daddy, felt his hand on my bum, my breasts, my thighs as Monique demanded that he check the feel, the cut, or check the fit.
"She has such a round, cute derriere," cooed Monique as she guided dad's hand over my trembling skin. "Split so perfectly," she went on as she slid a finger down my crack.
"You should trim this a bit," she instructed me later as she ran her fingers
through my bush as she pulled a sexy green tanga up my thighs. And then, for just a second she slipped a finger inside me. She felt my moistness.
"Viens, look Monsieur," she instructed daddy, "see how her hair escapes when she
wears these? She must trim her pretty fur...Maybe you should help her...it's
always difficult for a young girl to do it herself." She actually made me stand in front of daddy as she gave pubic barbering instructions to father.
"I don't think I should be the one," daddy finally protested, clearly not sure
whether to laugh or cry.
"C'est fou. You Americans are like children," she complained. "It's a father's
duty to make sure his daughter is ready, understands what her role is...knows
about men, sex...my father showed me."
"She was horrible," I complained as we walked from the shop, both our arms laden with packages. "Gosh, I think she was a lesbian. She kept touching me. And they cost so much."
"She was a bit strange sweetie. Foreigners! But we can't take it with us. Why
not spend it and enjoy it?"
"And what did she mean when she said her father showed her? Showed her what?"
"I don't know sweetie," dad answered as he shook his head.
"The underwear, don't you think they're too....too sexy...too grown up for me?"
"They're perfect sweetie. You look beautiful in them. Merry Christmas," he said as he gave me a hug and a kiss.
"I do? I love you daddy. I'll miss you so much at Christmas."
"You'll have a great time with mommy."
"Hah ha." But after dinner, after we'd watched a movie together, and after I'd
showered and put on one of my cute new bra/panty outfits, I approached dad with scissors and tweezers in hand, and asked lasciviously , "So do you want to trim me tonight, Monsieur Downing."
"Go to bed," he growled.
"But papa, Monique says it's your job to make sure your little darling daughter is properly coifed," I said with a sexy wink.
"Gabby!" dad insisted, dismissing me, but I saw the twinkle in his eye, I couldn't have missed how his eyes undressed me. I knew he'd love to trim my pussy.
"Bonsoir papa," I cooed, then left wiggling my cute little butt. Shit, I
thought, if I had to spend my nights dreaming of daddy he should have something to dream of too.
The Friday following, the sixteenth of December, school closed for our Christmas break. Daddy was to leave for his long booked vacation to Martinique on Sunday while I was scheduled to fly to moms on the following day. Mom called during dinner.
Daddy watched me as I listened to mom talk. Raised his eyebrows when I yelled 'I hate you' and slammed down the phone.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
"Sure?"
"Yes," I yelled as I fled the table, secretly elated at the news.
"Honey," I heard insistently repeated as dad knocked on my door.
"Leave me alone."
"Gabby! Open up...I want to talk to you," daddy called through the door an hour later.
"NO."
"Mommy called me."
"She's a bitch. I hate her."
"Can I come in?"
"Yes," I finally called softly.
"Why are you smiling?" I demanded when I saw the broad smile on his face.
"I get to spend Christmas with my favorite girl and I shouldn't be happy?" he
asked as he sat next to me and drew me into his arms.
"You're going to Martinique," I complained.
"I'll cancel tomorrow."
"That's not fair. You've been looking forward to your holiday for months. I'll
stay here. I'm sure the Sloans would let me stay with them."
"Yeah sure."
"Mom just thinks of herself," I sobbed, my tears falling on dad's broad chest.
"Where would you like to go? We could go to Colorado, Aspen, or maybe the Alps," daddy offered.
"Its too cold, brrr," I said as I pushed myself farther into his warm embrace.
"Would you like to go to Martinique?" he suddenly asked. "I'm already booked. Maybe we could just book another seat. Would you..."
"But that's your place, you probably don't want me around," I answered, my heart almost stopped as I waited for daddy's response.
"Nonsense, I'll call Ginny right now. Get her to work on it."
Two hours later Ginny reported back that, "No problem, you two are all set. You leave Sunday; make sure Gabby has her passport."
Yes! Yes! From total depression to elation in like three hours...Daddy and
I...alone...an island resort...sharing a private beach villa...Yes, thank you
God!
For I had researched the place daddy was planning to spend his vacation. I had grown both angry and jealous as I'd read the reviews of 'Plage Francais
Martinique', an exclusive resort set majestically on the less crowded south
coast. Catering mainly to rich, young Europeans, it featured a clothing optional beach and aimed its advertising at a more sexually liberated clientele.
Why had daddy been planning to go to a nude resort? Now we'd be naked together.
MARTINIQUE: CHRISTMAS 2005
We landed late in the evening at Lamentin Airport on Sunday, delayed by bad weather in Richmond. The resort, a sort of upscale, way upscale in fact, Club Med, was located on the south coast between the towns of Le Diamant and Le Marin on five hundred private acres that hugged the Caribbean.
After finally checking in we were driven by golf cart from the main hotel to our private villa, one of fifty that radiated out from the main hotel. We arrived exhausted at three in the morning.
"It only has one bed," a tired dad complained to the young, black, smiling
Martiniquais who'd escorted us.
"Monsieur?" he asked, clearly not comfortable in English.
"Tomorrow daddy, we'll figure it out tomorrow...I'm exhausted."
"Well I guess I can sleep on the couch."
"It's a king size bed daddy...lets just go to sleep." We slept together.
"We better go this way," daddy directed as he grabbed my arm and started to lead me to the left towards the hotel. We'd just eaten breakfast on the porch of our villa, plates full of fresh fruit and buns and coffee, smilingly delivered by a beautiful, topless black woman dressed only in a brightly colored floral skirt.
Daddy had blushed furiously when I told him I now understood why he came here.
"It's my first time," he promised. "They're French...its different..." he
stammered.
"Well, I guess if I'm going to fit in," I said, and then unhooked my bikini top
and placed it on the table.
"Gabby," dad protested resignedly.
"Let's see what's over here," I said pointing when we'd left the table and he
tried to direct me to the left towards the hotel. I danced out of his grip and
turned right.
"I don't think," he started, clearly uncomfortable.
"Gosh, they're all naked daddy," I blurted out when we passed a little grove of jacaranda and found ourselves facing at least a hundred people lying on the white, sun drenched sand.
"This is the clothing optional area honey...Europeans have a more liberal view towards..." he stammered.
"Oh, look at them," I squealed, pointing at two cute looking boys walking
towards us, their uncircumcised pricks swinging freely.
"You're not going to make this easy for your dad, are you honey?"
"No daddy," I giggled as I dropped my towel and beach things on an open spot on the sand.
"I didn't think so."
I quickly unhooked my skirt, and trembling, lowered my bikini bottoms. I could pretend to daddy that I was cool with it all, but inside, I was an eighteen year old virgin who'd never seen a penis 'live' in my life. I was shaking like a leaf.
"I'm so white," I complained. "Will you?" I asked as I handed daddy a 45 SPF sun block. "Have you done this before? Nudism? I mean other holidays," I tried to ask casually.
"Turn around," dad said, ignoring my question.
"It feels nice daddy," I complimented as his strong hands caressed the lotion
into my back. "Now my front?' I asked as I spun around and faced him.
"I think you'll be able to do that sweetie," he answered, slapping the tube of
lotion into my palm.
"You're a spoilsport," I pouted as I slowly rubbed the cream into my chest. But then couldn't help staring as daddy lowered his suit. Oh my gawd!
"Gabby," he admonished after I gave a small appreciative whistle.
"It's the first one I've seen so close up. Can I touch it," I teased. But inside
I knew. It was the same thick organ that had haunted my dreams for the last
month. It was beautiful.
"Go for a swim Gabby," he ordered.
"Oui papa," I said as I flounced off towards the surf. But I couldn't help but
be aware of the hundred some pairs of male eyes that followed my every step. I loved it. Even stopped and turned back to daddy and waved. Let them see my jiggling breasts, my pubic patch. Gosh, men want me! Even daddy, I knew.
"Monsieur Downing, this is Jean-Claude and Pierre, they're from Paris...they're pilots for Air France," I told daddy as I introduced the two men I'd met while I was in the water.
"Monsieur Downing?" daddy asked quizzically when the boys left a couple of minutes later.
"I told them you were a rich American...that you'd hired me to be your sex slave for the week."
"You're incorrigible."
"I know," I agreed, smiling happily, then leaned over and gave him a kiss.
"Everyone will think you're so lucky, an old man like you, having a beautiful
young lover like me."
"Old man?"
"Why didn't you have any more children? After me, I mean," I asked later as we lay side by side on the beach.
"I wanted to, heck, I wanted at least five...your mom...your birth was harder
than most, she was afraid the next one would be worse. She decided...I agreed," he answered, his voice trailing off.
"What about after? When mom left. How come you didn't remarry?" I probed.
"Well," he started after giving me a quick pensive look, "Women weren't my
favorite people for awhile after your mom left."
"You still loved mom?"
"I don't know honey. I was just pissed off. Period. Everything had always come so easy to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Your grandparents were well off; they brought me up in a loving house. I did well in school, sports star...the prettiest girl fell in love with me...college
was great...I start a business and it booms...I'm rich...then have you," he
said. "Then Mr. Perfect's wife walks out... she's bored."
"I'm sorry daddy."
"Christ Gabby, don't feel sorry for me. I just had never realized how good I had it. That taught me," he finished, the bitterness he still felt at mom clear in his voice.
"But why not later? Someone else?"
"I guess I never found the right girl," he said with a rueful grin. "Girls like
you are hard to come by. Now if yoooouuu'd been available sweetie," he teased. "Now c'mon, let's go for a swim."
"I'm available daddy," I whispered under my breath as hand in hand we ran into the surf.
As we stood toweling off twenty minutes later I restarted our conversation.
"Will you now, have children I mean, now that I'm going to be leaving soon?" I asked. "I know women like you, find you attractive."
"Do you young lady? And how would you know that?" he asked with a smile.
"All my girlfriends think you're soooo hot," I teased.
"An old man like me?"
"They do," I insisted. "And half the women on this beach are watching you, even the ones with men. Look at that blond over there; she's been watching you ever since we got here."
"Sshhhh," daddy ordered as he took a quick backwards glance. "Which one? You mean the pretty little blond?"
"Yes daddy, although you wouldn't know by looking at her mound."
"Gabby!" dad laughed.
"Gosh, ninety percent of these women seem to shave down there daddy, I thought
all European women liked to have hairy armpits and legs," I said, feigning a
little pout. "Maybe I should..."
"You're fine just as you are young lady."
"I am? Do you prefer your lovers to have hair here daddy?" I asked with a grin, my hands lightly touching my mound, separating my nether lips as I framed my sex questioningly.
"Yes," he finally answered.
"I'll never shave then," I promised.
"I'd like to have another child...someday...someday soon," daddy suddenly
started a little later. "Have more. Would you mind?" he asked, a serious
expression on his face.
"With who?"
"That's the problem," he laughed.
"You'll have grandkids soon. Maybe that'll be enough."
"You're far too young. And grandkids with who, if I may ask?"
"That's my problem too," I said smiling. "Gosh, I gotta lose my virginity
first."
I heard daddy expel a lungful of air but for seconds he said nothing. "Aren't
you going to say anything?" I finally demanded.
"Phewww," he finally said with a grin.
"Where are your pajamas?" Daddy asked later that night after we'd returned from a great dinner and an evening watching a Caribbean themed show put on by the staff. We'd met some other couples but generally the language barrier had kept us apart. I did get a couple of dances with my pilots though.
"I didn't bring them, I usually sleep naked now anyway," I said with a shrug,
standing in the warm room just in a pair of my new panties and holding an
electric toothbrush in my hand. "It's so warm here. Do you wear pj's?" I asked watching him as he stood nervously in his boxers.
"I'll sleep in these," he said casually. "I think I'd better take the couch."
"Don't be silly. We've already had this argument. It's a king size bed daddy."
"Still."
"Oh okay, I'll sleep on the bloody couch if it bothers you. Gosh, men are
impossible!"
Ten minutes later the two of us were settled comfortably in the big bed, me
completely naked, daddy still in his boxers. Once he'd fallen asleep his sneaky little daughter curled up against the one man she loved. Yummy!
"It was nice," I said the next morning as we sat on the veranda that faced the
blue surf that was breaking on the golden sand just a hundred feet away.
"What honey?"
"Sleeping with you. I'd forgotten."
"It's been a long time," he said as he looked up, remembering the same memories as I. "Oh, its raaaining daddy. And thunder...can I sleep with you tonight," he said, mimicking the excuses I'd used as an eight year old to snuggle next to him.
"It was," I protested, "I got so scared."
"I think it thundered four times a week for two years," he laughed. "Then you grew up. You didn't want anything to do with an old man like me. Private room and phone lines, boyfriends, diaries, secrets..."
"It was you, you'd always protected me. And then bingo, you kicked me out. I can't sleep in your bed anymore, I'm a big girl, la did ah," I accused. "I
missed you."
"I did too sweetie."
"Anyway, I think now that I'm grown up I'm going to like sleeping in a man's bed."
"There's no rush Gabby," daddy cautioned, "in fact if I were you I'd wait til
you've graduated university."
"Another four years. Hah."
"I'll buy you a big teddy bear for your dorm. You can sleep with it."
"Maybe. But for the next two weeks I think I'll keep the big teddy bear I
have... okay" I asked as I leaned over and gave my father a kiss on the cheek.
"As long as you're good," he warned.
"I'll be good daddy," I promised.
We went directly to the nude beach after breakfast, this time neither of us in
the least bit nervous over the others nudity.
"Do you like my breasts daddy?" I asked as leaning towards him I cupped them and
pointed them at his suddenly alive eyes.
"They're so-so...okay I guess," he teased back, "for a teenager." The naked
desire in his eyes gave me his real answer.
"You're penis is beautiful...for a man," I responded, and boldly moved my eyes back and forth from his groin to his eyes.
"Young girls shouldn't be looking at men's private parts," he admonished, but I could see his pride. I watched as he couldn't stop it from starting to grow. He turned over on his stomach.
"Do you think my bums nice?" I asked later as daddy's sun screen covered fingers slid down my back and onto my rear.
"Yes honey, it's perfect," he answered
"Make sure you don't miss anywhere, I don't want it to burn. Why's it perfect anyway?" I asked looking back over my shoulder.
"Well Miss Downing," he started gravely, "first off it's just the ideal size." He said this as his two palms cupped my cheeks and kneaded lightly. "And the two sides are perfect balls, symmetrical; they fit exactly in my hands. And when you're lying like this, your bum sticks just wonderfully up, inviting every man..."
Just as I felt a finger slide across and up my crack, lightly touch my anus, as I felt the wetness seeping from my pussy, his other hand descended in a sharp slap.
"Daddddy!" I squealed.
"Stop fishing for compliments. Now how about going and getting your father a beer at the bar."
"You're cruel," I complained, but he saw the happy smile on my face as I jumped up to do his bidding. "Is there a red mark?" I asked as I wiggled my derriere in his face.
"Go!"
"Are European men all smaller than us daddy," I asked.
"What are you talking about?" he said as he lifted his head and looked over at me.
"Their penises...yours is bigger than anyone else's...I thought maybe Europeans were..."
"Honey, we're of European descent."
"Then why," I started before he interrupted.
"As you well know Gabby, men, just like women, come in different sizes. And anyway, when a man gets...well, when he has a..."
"A hard-on?"
"Well yes. When we have ... hard-ons it's not always the same. A small man may double in size, a bigger man may just harden without getting much larger."
"That's not true. I know you grow much bigger."
"What? Why do you say that?"
"You poked me. Last night," I added when I saw the question in his eyes. "Like at least five times I woke up, every time you were hard, poking my stomach or my bum or my thighs."
"I didn't."
"And then when the sun came up," I continued, "I woke again and it was hard, right against my...my hair...my slit."
"Jesus. I'm sorry Gabby, I didn't do it on purpose."
"I know. I checked, you were sleeping. But I do know its very big daddy, bigger than any of the men here," I said, indicating with a sweep of my hand all the men surrounding us.
"Well maybe a bit above average."
"It felt nice when I touched it."
"What?"
"Can I put sunscreen on it?" I asked as I squirted a fat dollop into my hand. He simply said nothing as I lifted it from his thigh, groaned just once softly as my palm closed around him. It felt perfect. Soon, I thought.
That night we dressed up for dinner, at least dressed up Martinique style. Daddy was yacht club sporty in silk Tommy Bahamas pants and shirt and I wore a light, red, spaghetti strapped summer dress that flowed just over my knees and had a décolleté cut that displayed my large, firm breasts to perfection.
"Are you wearing a bra?"
"No daddy, it wouldn't be appropriate for this dress or this occasion," I said as I cupped my breasts through the dress and lifted them.
"All that money I spent on lingerie and you can't find one bra that's appropriate?" he groused, then added, "You are wearing panties?"
Putting my arms up like a ballerina I quickly twirled around in front of daddy, knowing he'd see my naked, hair covered loins as the dress billowed upward.
Shaking his head he simply muttered, "Jesus," then took my arm and led me to the door.
"They've all seen me anyway."
"Do you like her?" I asked after daddy had returned from his dances with the blond German.
"She's nice. And what did your French boys have to say when I was gone?"
"They're nice. Don't change the subject...Would you like to sleep with her?"
"Certainly not. I've already got enough trouble with the woman who's sleeping with me."
"So you prefer sleeping with me," I asked boldly, bending at just the right angle so that daddy could see the pink, erect tips of my jiggling tits.
"Would you like to dance Miss Downing?" he asked.
"Uh huh," I whispered as I melted into his arms. It was the first time I'd ever danced with a man. A real man. Oh, the boys I'd been going to parties with for the last three or four years were male, sometimes they'd even push their cocks into me, I didn't complain, in fact even liked it, but it wasn't like this.
Daddy made them feel and look like boys. It surprised me to realize as we danced, my cheek resting on his shoulder, my bra-less breasts squashed against his chest, that it had taken me so long to recognize what my girlfriends had known for years. Daddy had a masculinity about him that eclipsed just about every male I'd ever seen. He waaaas hot.
There was no pretense now. I simply plastered myself against daddy. Slipped my arms around his neck. I felt him start to grow against my stomach and then held him tight when he tried to move away. We didn't talk for dance after dance. His hands roved over my bum, squeezing, separating, pulling me into his now proudly hard penis.
We drank some wine and then danced some more. Kissed liked lovers.
We were both tired and slightly drunk when we finally stumbled into our villa at three-thirty in the morning. We both knew a deal had been struck, that it was only a matter of time, but also knew we were too bushed to do it that night...soon, we promised each other silently as we kissed at the edge of the bed.
"Remember we have the picnic tomorrow," I reminded as I nestled my rear and back against my father's strong body.
"Night Gabby," he whispered in my ear, his breath a warm caress. He wrapped his arm over me, lightly holding me, then moved his hand softly over my belly, up to cup my breast, and then down over my hip and thigh.
"Night daddy, I love you," I said as I wiggled my bum and captured his hardening penis in my crack. "Tomorrow daddy...tomorrow," I promised, knowing I'd surrender my virginity to him the next day. I fell asleep already dreaming.
"Hurry. Wake up sleepyhead," I insisted as I shook daddy's shoulder at ten-thirty the next morning.
"Gabby? Let me sleep honey," he moaned as he rolled away from my hand and onto his back.
"Daddy! Our boat leaves in thirty minutes. Wake up."
"He'll wait for us sweetie, we're his only customers."
"I've already gone for a swim in the ocean, showered, had breakfast," I complained. "Go and wash."
"I don't need a shower, wake me three minutes before we have to leave," he ordered, then shutting his eyes he feigned going back to sleep.
"You're all sticky," I said as I ran my hand over his stomach and down the inside of his thigh.
"Huh?" he mumbled, his eyes lazily opening.
"You came daddy...this morning...when I woke it was spurting...white stuff...it was on my stomach, my breasts, my...my hair daddy...down here," I indicated, rubbing my hand across my mound through the panties I wore.
"I didn't..." he started.
"It was sticky, gooey," I said giggling as I straddled his chest.
"Are you making this up?" he demanded, now fully awake.
"I tried to clean you daddy. With my tongue," I said as I licked my lips. "You taste good, very good," I teased as I bent and captured his lips in mine.
"We're late Gabby, stop fooling around," he ordered as he struggled to escape me.
The hotel had prepared everything. They owned a couple of small islands just a mile from the resort, islands that guests could reserve for the day. They'd boat you out and then leave you, returning late in the afternoon to pick you up.
I dressed simply, a white, wide brimmed hat, a necklace of pearls, sandals and a long, white cotton, tiered peasant skirt. The pearls danced between my breasts when daddy and I finally walked hand in hand across the beach towards the waiting boat.
"You look beautiful sweetie."
"Thanks daddy," I answered while slipping my arm around his back. "They're all jealous of me," I added, indicating the naked female sunbathers we were passing.
"Jealous?"
"They all wish it was they who were going with you," I said, resting my head for a second against his shoulder. "They all wish they could spend an afternoon in your arms."
"None of them are as beautiful as you Gabby," he said as his arm pulled me even tighter against him.
"Kiss me...before we get in the boat...please," I pled as I turned into him and pressed myself into him.
"You're a little imp, a trouble maker," he accused.
"I know," I answered as I stood on tiptoe and after pulling his head towards me, I hungrily captured his mouth. "I love you."
We motored through a break in the reef and glided the last few feet almost soundlessly to the protected beach. On the edge of the beach, under the fronds of a cluster of palm trees, they'd set up a pavilion, amply provisioned with food and beverages. It had a couch, a table and chairs, a bed...a large bed with silk sheets, sheets that seemed to rustle as the light ocean breezes touched them.
"I have my Christmas present for you," I said as we watched the boat motor off.
"Where is it? I didn't see you bring anything."
"You'll be the only man who'll ever have it. It's unique...one of a kind," I teased as I took off my hat and sent it sailing on the wind.
"Is it?"
"I've saved it all my life...just for you," I said as I let my skirt fall to the warm sand.
"Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?" My handsome dad asked as he started to move towards me.
"You'll definitely need to be an animal to take it," I enticed, my left hand now lightly stroking my thick pubic pelt as I backed slowly towards the sea.
"Are you sure Gabby?"
"Well, you've got to catch me first," I giggled, then turned and ran into the surf and dove into the warm water. I'd only taken three strokes in the water before I felt a hand grab my ankle and trap me.
"C'mon here," he ordered as he pulled me back. Lifted me out of the water, crushed me hard against his strong chest, then carried me laughing up the beach. Laid me gently on the bed set up under the pavilion.
"You're hard," I said as I slipped my hand between our bodies and circled his thick shaft.
"I'll be gentle," he promised as he lay next to me.
"Don't. I want you in me...now daddy," I pled as I spread my legs wantonly, opening my already moist insides to him.
"Gabby, sweetie," he started, one hand cupping my head as his other moved to my breasts.
"Hurry daddy, I need you," I moaned, knowing I'd never be readier.
My shriek tore across the bay and over the island, stopping for seconds the cacophony of sounds coming from the birds in the palm trees all around us.
I was bloodied, ruined, rent by his long shaft after it tore through my feeble guardian of skin, my hymen now split and destroyed.
"Ahhhh...aah...aahh...aahhh...oh daddddy," I cried as his immensity filled me, buried itself in my clasping, slippery pink cave. A million nerve endings lit up, sending a mixed message of pain and ecstasy to my stunned brain.
I was lost, unaware of anything except the hard piston that was repeatedly driven to the door of my womb. My orgasmic spasms radiated out and in, in tempo with daddy's passionate thrusts, demanding to be flooded by his liquid seed.
He simply continued to move inside of me as my first waves of need subsided, playing my body, my cunt, like a maestro violinist, repeatedly bringing me to the brink before slowing down his thrusting bow.
My hips were arched a foot off the bed, oozing, when my second orgasm was met by his first spurting deluge of sperm. 'La petite mort' the French call it, that second when you're completely taken, filled, drained...fucked. Completely defenseless!
As daddy slowly retreated, removing his sticky cock from my sex, I felt a loss that threatened to engulf me, cried, maybe screamed, "No, no daddy...please...stay...I need you."
"Hush baby," he answered as he engulfed me in his warmth. "Oh Gabby..."
He touched me, began by soft caresses. Our urgency still there as our hands moved relentlessly on the other.
A mans mouth on my nipples, a wet tongue circling my hard nipples, a mans caress on my cheek, thick fingers moving over my mound, my ass,
His cock, hard again, proud, filling me, filling his gasping, needy daughter. Making me thrash and writhe under him. My urgent upward thrusts of my hips an unconscious natural reaction that simply demonstrated my slavery to this man. To his cock.
A second sperm filled flood. I died a little more.
He carried me down to the surf, smiling, laughing in joy at the perfection of our union. As he carried me my hand found his cock, still impossibly hard and long. "Again?" I whispered in awe, my teenage girl's previous tentative research coming nowhere close to the reality of the feeling of this man inside me.
We made love in the breaking surf, daddy simply lifted me effortlessly up and down on his straining shaft. My head was buried in his neck, my warm tears trickling over his shoulder when his first bucking spurt of cum pumped deep inside of me.
"I love you," I whispered.
"You're crying?"
"I'm so happy."
He washed me, then carried me back to my blood stained bed. I was lying on my back, sore, exhausted, almost asleep when I felt the first probing of his tongue. "Oh daddddy," I moaned as his lips captured my clit. 'I can't...it's too much...oh gawd...please...please daddy."
He had a finger in my rear, holding me, as he tongued me, then swallowed my juice as I writhed helplessly under him, my cries of ecstasy carried away on the wind.
"It s beautiful," I said later as my hand lifted his fat penis from its resting place on his thigh.
"You're awake," he said smiling, a total joyous acceptance of our love bursting from every pore in his face.
"Did I sleep long?" I ran my moist tongue over his nipple.
'A while. They'll be coming for us soon."
"Can't we stay here tonight?" I slithered down his body, keeping my eyes locked on his as I moved.
"We have our own villa," he laughed as he watched my tongue dart out and lick a drop of pre-cum from his crimson cockhead. "Sweetie," he groaned as I popped my lips around him and fisted his shaft in my small hand.
He hardened, lengthened in my mouth, filling me with just half his length. I tried to devour him, swallow him as I pumped with my hand...wanted to taste his sperm. He didn't let me.
Daddy lifted me off his cock, and then after turning me on my stomach, lifted my hips and spread my knees so that I was kneeling open before him. He was hard, powerful, commanding this time, all gentleness gone. This was a hard fucking that I found my body craved, each time he pulled my hips back to meet his thrusts I groaned in need, then finally was reduced to simply letting out a continuous whimpering sound that reflected my sexual slavery. Fuck me daddy, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME, my demented mind screamed.
The boat was puttering through the reef when daddy finally emptied himself in me again. The pilot had brought a young girl with him, a maid, to clean up while he delivered us back to the mainland. We walked slowly down to the boat, naked, daddy still half hard, me with thick, white cum dripping down my thighs. We didn't care.
But when the boat had started back we heard a loud cackling laugh come from the girl left on the shore, and looking back saw her holding the bloodstained sheet up in the wind as she laughed.
"I think someone may hear about us tonight daddy," I said as I nestled in the crook of his arm.
"Will you marry me?" he whispered to my ear and the soft wind.
Of course I was going to marry him...and have his babies...and... We were fated to be one.