*First submission, not completely good, in my opinion, I've read plenty out there so much better than this. So don't say I didn't warn you. I also have the part where I kept the sex as *2* just so you know. Bare in mind, I have my character thinking more. She is a virgin, and is shy which later on I will eventually change as the story continues in chapters.*

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I stared in the mirror for awhile, holding my long blond hair up over my peach puff pale shoulders, few freckles over my right shoulder, and a speck on my neck. The hue of my cerulean blue eyes were slightly darkened by the dim light of the bathroom, I turned to get a look at my profile. Much like my mothers, short pointy nose, puckered red pout for lips, and a smooth lifting arch of my pale brow. Sadly I wasn't like my friend Mindy who had long dark lashes to go with her blond hair, mine were just as light as my hair, so I had large doe eyes with cursed long lashes at that. I used to cut them when I was younger, I think ten, I hardly remember as to the time I started, I just stopped though last year, so now they are long.

I appear older in expression though, I had to grow up quick after my mother died, she was thirty five, and suffered from an illness I only understand as an addiction. She was enthralled in vanity, dying her hair, keeping masks on at all hours when she's not in public, and taking illegal diet pills. I stole some at one point too, but stopped when my heart raced at nights, and also noticed that going from petite to super petite at fourteen. I just figured now I ought a focus on things that my mother didn't, like my lips, although I hate my eye lashes, I love my lips for some reason. Like that actress in those raiding movies based on the games, although, I despise my small height at 5'3" I absolutely love wearing shoes that make me look tall and sound elegant when I walk too. It may take me awhile to get back to my original weight, being ninety five and a half pounds, I will eventually love my breasts. If I didn't lose so much weight, they'd be plump by now, and I'd get to wear those sexy bra's I see in the stores. Even though Tommy has more mind for video games, and rocking out to music. I still wouldn't mind being sexy.

I let go of my hair, and pulled off my cotton shirt with the kitten with a bow on front. I slipped out of my under shirt and stared at my body, the light rose pink of my nipples started to darken a little as they went hard, I wasn't the blossom of my age group, but I did have a decent plump to my breasts. I cupped my hands over them, and realized I have my own hands. My mother had short fingers, my father has sausage like fingers, and muscular hands. Mine are slender, long, my nails are oval shaped, and the palm of my hands are stretched making my hands appear longer. But still small when measured against anyone's, and the curve of my breasts fit almost perfectly into each hand. I'm actually embarrassed to get a bra for myself, when I see them on the racks at the store, I turn to look at the other row of clothing, pretending that I'm actually interested. I took a deep breath and trailed my fingers in circles around my nipples. I looked back into the bathroom mirror, my hair falling over my shoulders, I felt my hands tremble as I slid them down over my stomach, I lifted the small frilled hem of my blue skirt and tucked my fingers inside the crotch of my panties. With my other hand I slid them along the inside of my thigh which tickled, but in a good way, I leaned against the wall behind me, our bathroom was small. We lived in a small apartment, my father and I.

The rim of the bath tub was near, so I rested the arch of my foot on there, and slowly began to rub myself. My breathing got loud, but it was as if I could not hear myself any more. I was drifting into a new world, the clit, I had learned to rub that at school in a sex education class. They said masturbation is purely normal, and not bad at all. That there was nothing to be ashamed of, and that it was OK to feel good. They also said everyone does it, just then I wondered if my father did it, as that thought crossed my mind, I felt an arousal that sent chills through my whole body, tingles, and I shivered when I pictured my father in silhouette rubbing himself as I am now. Course, he had boy parts, not that I've seen any in person, just glimpsed blurs on Jackass, and some comedies I convinced my dad were age appropriate for me. The keys in the apartment door shook me away from that universe I was in, what ever planet it was, I knew I was going to go back there when ever I could. I was shaking as I reached for my clothes, I still could hear my heart inside my ears, and feel the pink flush burning my face.

"Scarlett?!" I heard the keys drop into the cup which sat on the oak desk beside the front door, "sugar you home? I bought some fresh bananas for you, they'll be on the counter." He must have seen the light on beneath the door, or he probably would have stopped talking by now. I shimmied into my under shirt, and tossed my shirt over my head. I looked in the mirror, sure enough, the burn of my face was causing me to glow pink, I ran the cold water for ten seconds before splashing my face frantically with the cooling water and turned the tap off. I pulled my hair back and tied it into a sleek pony tail. When I went into the narrow hallway which lead straight to the kitchen, I saw my dad, towering in the middle of the kitchen at 5'10" he had one of those old mushroom cut hair do's that I could hear most of my female teachers cooing over when they thought I wasn't around. Unlike my mother and I, his hair was full, and dark brown.

He looked very young for forty five years, especially in the jeans he chose to wear, and loose plaid over shirts. For a man, he wore grunge all right, no Kurt Cobain, but he was still good looking. When I realized I was still tingly and all the more when I looked him over a couple of times thinking of what he would look like masturbating. I felt my face flush again when he caught me looking at him, but he didn't react, he just leaned into me and said with his low voice, "Your shirt is inside out, and backwards darling." My head swam through a thousand emotions, the basic highlighted one was humiliation. Had he known what I was doing? Why did he say it like that? I tugged at my collar looking at the tag of my shirt, and thought more about him. I was careful not to look at him when I struggled to turn the shirt around at least. I couldn't wait any longer, with the lava burning between my thighs, I wanted to say that I wasn't feeling all that well, and retire for the night.

But he was looking through a phone book in the other room a few feet away from the kitchen and dining room. The living room with no sofa, and no coffee table. Just a television, and a lot of DVD's. That was our life style, on the cold hardwood floor at night and day. My dad was thumbing through pages almost urgent to find something, at first I figured he was looking for that lawyer's number again, might be another crash, so I stepped back into the kitchen. I pulled a banana from it's clutch and peeled at it as I headed back into the living room. My lower teeth got gritty when I ate bananas so I tongued at the tip and used my lips to break away a piece for me to eat. I got lost in the thought of what my father's piece would look like, so I didn't hear my dad ask me the first time, he rose his voice strongly, "Letty what's that Chinese restaurant I like, the one that charges only 18.35 for the both of us?" I stopped tonguing the tip of the banana and rose my brows, "Hm?" It was the first time I heard my voice that day without the funny breathing. It wasn't anything like my moms, it was more like a soft silvery tone, like that Australian actress with deep red curly locks. I was slouching, so my dad jolted his shoulders back informing me to do the same, so I straightened up, "You mean The great wall?" I asked, and took a big bite of my banana. Dad raised a thumb, and dialed the number.

Soon the thoughts faded into casual conversations, we ate our eighteen dollar meal, and turned in for the evening. It wasn't until I clenched my knees together I remembered that feeling between my thighs. We slept on the floor, I meant it when I said we had no furniture. I sat up against the wall pressing my ear against it, listening for my dad. But in that building everything sounded muffled, like a radio pressed into flesh, some things I could make out, like the grunting noise the people upstairs always made. The arguing neighbors who always seemed to forget how much they love each other, cause they always apologize like crazy after awhile. Or the old ladies across from us, who always blasted The Simpsons, I always found that odd, for a couple of old ladies to watch the Simpsons. I couldn't hear my dad, so I thought I'd make sure to see if he left, or fell asleep. I got up slowly, stepping carefully over the creaks of the wooden floor. The red of my toe nails could be seen when I reached the door way, I opened the door careful too.

I thought I heard my dad, but the neighbors beside our living room sometimes sound like him when my dad is frustrated. I crept closer to the living room where he slept, we only had a one bedroom apartment, and the land owner was willing to make any adjustments to make money. When I saw that my dad was gone, I relaxed, he must have gone for a beer or something. I was heading back to my room when I saw that the bathroom light was on. It wasn't closed all the way, the bathroom door, it was partially open, it was the turn of the shower that caused me to gasp. I pressed against the wall, I don't know what it was, but I wanted to see him. I slid along the wall, my cotton white gown catching on some parts pulling against my skin. I got to the opening of the door, and the light shone across my face in a vertical line. We had clear shower curtains that my dad bought at the dollar depot, and through those curtains I saw a blur of him looking down with something in his hand. He tilted his head back, and it was then I realized what he was doing.

I saw the length of his stroke, but I couldn't see his piece yet, I only saw what motion caused him to breath hard as I had earlier. I lifted my hand up to the plump of my lower lip and picked at the corner of my lip. I felt my head spinning fast, but I couldn't look away, I stared, watching him move fast behind those steamed curtains. I closed my eyes hearing his moaning grow soft, weak, vulnerable to the sensation and pleasure he was giving himself. I wished then, he was thinking of me, the way I had him. "Scarlett?" His voice broke me away from my train of thought, "Uh, I thought I heard someone at the front door I think." Lying, I'd hope my face wasn't all too clear and viable to him, "Alright" broke in a grunt, "give me a minute and let them up will you?" His voice broke a little when he finished that sentence, I heard a thump against the wall when I was walking away, "Dad?" I asked, alarmed, and he assured me "I'm all right Scarlett." His voice soft when he spoke my name, gentle, like easing into a comfortable state of mind, a sigh, with a soft moan following. He said my name like that. Later I had to convince my dad there wasn't anyone there, and that I must have heard something else all together.
*2*


The weeks with my father grew strenuous. I yearned to catch him doing that to himself again, but I pictured myself doing it, my hands making him feel so good. I wanted him to see me the way I saw him, a love, an undeniable love, strong and passionate. I had fantasies where he would enter my room, and curl into my arms. Like I was the one saving him from whatever tormenting day he was having. I, his woman, and he, my father, my lover, my hero. When I learned about orgasms in class, I started wanting that with my dad too. It wasn't until Mindy invited me over to watch her dad's porn, I started thinking about what my dad's dick would look like. I didn't tell anyone my thoughts. I kept them, strong in my heart, and passionate and vivid when I rubbed my clit at night. Through the porno I learned to slip my fingers inside myself, which sent shutters of my first orgasm one night. I had to turn onto my belly, and sink my teeth into the pillow. I heard my breathing sharpen. My whole body shook, almost violent as I could not hold back the long deep throated moan. I saw in my fantasy, the porno of a woman being pounded from behind, I saw my face on the woman, and my father's on the man. I finally came back, and felt something on my fingers. It wasn't the same as before, it was loose, like water. I sat up, and saw between my legs a liquid that had a strong sweet scent. I thought that I had peed.

Even more astonishing, I thought that I had been alone, but when I looked up, my world sunk as I lay there naked with my father standing over me. I was still trembling from before, and my dad wasn't exactly fuming. He crouched down resting his elbows on either knees as he looked up blinking for awhile, I'm sure he wasn't sure what to start with, but most defiantly he heard me moaning for him. Calling out 'Daddy' with each time I inserted my fingers into my vagina. He looked back down at me, and rested on his knees so his crotch was in my face. Slowly he lay on me, it felt as though he were pressing against me but it was only his body resting his full weight onto me. I felt a sleek velvet like motion across my clit, I gasped, my legs clasped around my father's head. He eventually got me to part them with the strength of his arms, but as he kept kissing me on my clit, I couldn't stop them from closing. His large hands cupped around my butt, and then suddenly he rolled away from me. His hand clutched over his lips as he stared at me, he whispered something, at first I thought it was to me, but it was to himself, "too little. She's too little." So, I, still heated from the previous engagement. Crawled over to him, nuzzling my head into his neck and unzipped his jeans.

It felt different then I imagined, when I slipped my hands in between his briefs. The soft warm flesh of his member made me gasp a little when I felt it grow as I started to massage it, he was beautiful, the feeling was beautiful. As he grew, in my hand, I kissed his shoulder, his neck, and eventually covered his mouth with mine. His piece slowly parted my thumb and fingers with the thickening throb. The silk moist made it easier for me to stroke him, he pulled his pants and underwear off, and then showed me how to move my hands and squeezed gently over mine when he started feeling good. He pushed me onto my back, keeping both my hands inside his grasp while he placed them on either side of my head. He let go of one, and reached down between us. I felt the tip against my entrance, and I gasped. He pushed a little, knowing that I had never been touched by a man, knowing I was virgin, and knowing that it was already hurting as he slowly entered inside me. This took awhile, and so he leaned down and kissed me full on the mouth. His tongue forced my lips apart, and he massaged my whole mouth with his tongue. This sent some of the pain away, but as he kept pushing in, it would eventually rise back again. I felt a sharper pain that made me nearly shout into his mouth. He hushed a few times, but the painful noise I made did not cause him to stop, in fact, he moved more, inside it was painful, as he pulled out, it was still a little painful.

Though I thought I was making painful noises, he kept going, until I realized that I was making the same noise that woman made in the pornos. I was grunting, and moaning between pants. I saw the glisten of sweat on the flexing of his shoulder, he was beautiful, he pushed his upper body up higher, and his lower part started to move in away that my clit was being rubbed between his thrusts. I think I rolled my eyes shut, the feel of him pushing in and out with that gyrating motion in between made me moan loud. The burn was disappearing slowly, and a new sensation had started building. He dropped his upper body on top of me, and I heard a slapping noise between us. He was moving faster, and he too had been moaning. His arms reached around my shoulders, as he lifted me up from the floor of my bedding, and I sat on his lap while he moved inside me. He hugged me when he moved, and I did my best to hold onto him. Although I was in love with my father's movement, I felt scared at the same time, I didn't know what was happening now. The feeling was different from when I used my own fingers. His dick was different inside me, and wider than my two fingers. I couldn't hear anything any more, not even my own heart beat as that building sensation over took me, and at one point I swear I saw light. I must have been having an orgasm, because when I opened my eyes again, I was on the floor, and my father was pulsating over me while hushing me. Telling me that it was OK, cause the following sounds I made were more scarce of not knowing the feeling. I thought, for that second, that I had died.

He was still going though, not that it didn't feel bad, I still liked seeing his body, his shoulders, and the way he looked at me as he moved. Like he was making the ultimate promise to his baby girl, but then he said something I could not catch, his hand clung around my throat, tight, he gripped my through into his hand and growled. I wanted to scream, but my voice caught, and he was pushing so hard that I could only pant and choke. He said something again, but I could not make it out, he repeated it, more clearly into my ear as he leaned over me gyrating his body against mine "Say it for me, say it now baby." I didn't know what he meant, so he tightened his grip, but continued pumping inside me, he let go, and it was then I realized what he wanted me to say, "Fuh-" I gasped, my voice was weak, and crackled from being choked, I panted a few times and took a sharp breath "Fuck me daddy." He let out a long groan, his thrusts more urgent, "again." He demanded "Oh, God!" I was going to have another orgasm, I moaned long, and whimpered "Oh God fuck me daddy! Fuck me." I repeated with each thrust he gave, until it became fast whispers, I could not hear anything again, and this time I felt explosions all over my body. I felt his meeting mine with a hard landing, and as he pushed in one final time a certain liquid fell from us both. I was whimpering and weeping softly into his shoulder as my orgasm slowly subsided. He took me a few more times that night, whenever I called on it, and he did it more gentle each time until all we could do was sleep the rest of the day away.