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The end of summer: part two
Daddy had just finished whipping my breasts and pissing on me, all at my invitation, of course, and he helped me to my feet, but the warm summer weather had disappeared again and we both stood there in his secluded country garden in France, shivering and naked in the rain. He picked me up and I put my arms round his neck and snuggled against him as he carried me back to the warmth of the kitchen, where he carefully set me down on my feet.
Even though he’d just brutally beaten me; my tear streaked face and the overlapping weals on my breasts bearing witness to the single-minded ferocity of his attack, my Daddy’s a very sweet man, so even though he enjoys whipping me and making me cry, he is also capable of great love and tenderness, so he did a very sweet thing for me. He could see that I was absolutely exhausted so he unfastened my wrist straps and then got down on his knees at my feet and took my shoes and ankle straps off for me. With a sigh I ran my fingers through his hair; it was a relief to be completely naked again.
Then he lead me by the hand to the bathroom, ran the shower for me, and washed me, carefully, shampooing my hair for me as he used to all those years ago, as though I was a sweet, innocent little girl again. It was wonderful; I just stood there and let him take care of me and pamper me. Then he dried me, being very gentle and taking great care not to hurt me, especially when he was drying my breasts. Then he wrapped me in a huge, warm white towelling dressing gown and I sat on the edge of the bath and watched as he had a quick shower, dried himself, and wrapped a towel round his waist.
We walked hand-in-hand back to the kitchen as a succession of bright flashes told us that the storm outside had stopped grumbling and had become a ferocious, living thing again. My sandals and my straps lay in a heap on the tiled floor. Everything was wet and filthy, greasy with rainwater, mud, his cum, our combined congealed sweat, and his piss.
Daddy turned to me. “I don’t think we can use this lot again, Princess, and the belt’s still lying out there in the rain, but in this weather it can just stay there. Anyway, all of this old stuff’s all for the trash I’m afraid.”
“But Daddy…”
“Don’t worry, Princess. I have some presents for you in the dining room.”
I love surprise presents, so I trotted through, and there on the table was a parcel about the size of a shoebox. I tore off the wrapping and opened the lid. Inside was a brand new pair of black patent high-heeled sandals and some other packages. The shoes had a much higher heel that the girlish ones we’d just trashed; these were real sexy, grown-up woman’s shoes with a slight platform. I slipped my toes under the one thin strap, and found I was effectively on tiptoe, the front of my foot continuing the vertical line of my shin, right down to where this single, thin strap crossed my toes. A thin T-strap buckled at my ankle, and that was it. Wearing these, my feet would be to all intent and purposes completely bare. I put on the other on but when I tried to stand I found the heels much higher than I was used to and I had to steady myself on my Daddy’s shoulder. We both giggled.
He walked beside me across to the hall and back as I tottered along unsteadily, hanging on to his shoulder. There was an extra bright flash of lightning and an immediate crack of thunder; I stumbled and almost fell over, grabbing for support at his towel, which fell off him and landed in a heap on the floor as he caught me easily under my arms. We ignored the towel; if he’d bent to pick it up I really would’ve fallen over!
I tried walking again, and almost fell over again, then my brain clicked into gear as I realised that I was trying too hard to be sexy in my new heels. The French girls do it effortlessly; they just walk, and trust the design of the shoes to do the work of making them look sexy! I drew myself up to my full height and rocked my pelvis forward, pushing my stomach and my arse out in opposite directions. I tried walking on my own, and found that if I let my full weight rest on my heels and rolled my hips as I walked, and proceeded with care, I was okay without my Daddy’s support; anyway, I loved the deep, solid click as each heel hit the wooden floor.
I turned to him and kissed him. In these heels I was the same height as him!
“They’re fabulous, Daddy, just fabulous!” And I kissed him again.
“It takes my breath away, Princess. You look wonderful, tall and slim.”
I kissed him again, my tongue deep in his throat and my hips grinding against him. Remember, I was in my dressing gown but he was naked, and although he’d just cum all over me, the rain had cut things short before I’d reached anything like the peak of intensity that I so avidly sought. There was still an urgent need deep in my body. It was definitely time to lead him on again, just like the early days, so like a bitch in season I shamelessly ground my hips against his naked body and felt his cock begin to stiffen again.
He cleared his throat.
“Don’t forget the other packages, darling,” and he lead me by the hand back to the table.
There were two other packages. The big one contained a set of shiny new wrist and ankle straps. I kissed him again and eagerly slipped my dressing gown off, and buckled on the wrist straps while he knelt at my feet and put the ankle straps on me, just above the thin straps of my new shoes. They were made of much finer leather than the old ones, and were padded, so they were much more comfortable. Their clips were bigger and brighter and looked easier to fasten, and they jingled even more that the old ones had as I paraded round the room, lifting my hair and pirouetting to show off my naked body and my new clothes.
I have never felt sexier!
The last package was waiting for me. I was pretty sure that I knew what would be in it and I wasn’t disappointed; a new belt, thick, hard, black patent, with a bright silver buckle.
I suddenly felt quite tearful. These gifts were just another sign of his life-long never-ending generosity towards me, which I’d always tried to repay by being a “good” girl, and more recently by being his “dream” girl, and I was about to abandon him and fly away over the Atlantic to study. I would miss him and I was afraid that he would be lonely.
Naked except for my shiny new black and silver finery, I took the belt with both hands and knelt at my father’s feet, and with my back straight and my breasts swaying freely I kissed it, and with tears trickling from the corners of my eyes, I held it up to him.
“Daddy, this is for you. Use it on me. It is yours, and I am yours, always.”
He smiled down at me; a moment of peace and stillness, until the house once again shook and rattled with the ferocity of the storm outside.
“Don’t cry, Princess. It’s a gift for both of us.” He stopped, helped me to my feet, and looked at me speculatively, “but I would like something in return…” he stopped, suddenly nervous.
He’s always diffident when he wants something particularly dirty.
“What can I do for you, Daddy?”
He looked at me, tall and tanned and naked except for my bright new finery, and said
“I’ll bet there’s one thing you could easily give me right now, Princess. Your bladder must be full. You haven’t had a chance to pee since lunch.”
I could immediately see where this was going. As you’ll have gathered, my Daddy and I are pretty intimate; we even know when the other has to use the bathroom, and of course, as soon as he mentioned it I suddenly had to go, real bad!
It’s wonderful, dear Reader, to be so close and so intimate and so loving with another person in that way. Would you like to get to know me so well as that too?
He continued, suddenly serious.
“You can give me the gift of your sweet piss, Princess, direct from you to me.”
And so it was. In a deliberate and almost respectful silence, punctuated only by the raging storm outside, and with his cock once again swaying in front of his stomach, my Daddy, naked except for the shiny black new belt he’d buckled round himself, padded across the room and lay down on his back on the cool wooden floor of his dining room. I, his Princess, also naked except for my new leather finery, stepped over him to kneel on either side of his upturned face and lowered my cunt to his mouth.
Just as I was about to smother him with my sex he whispered up to me,
“Do it slow, Princess. I don’t want to lose any.”
“Sure, Daddy.”
And with that, I sat down on his face, my full weight pressing my naked cunt hard against his lips; I squirmed in delight as I felt his nose just brush my anus and his tongue glide over my hymen to torment my urethra as I released my bladder, and with no preamble or delay, carefully pissed in his mouth.
His lips were sealed against my cunt; between us we didn’t spill a drop as I slowly emptied myself into him, giving him time to swallow each mouthful, and from time to time flexing my pelvis to tip my hip bones forward just enough to lift my anus clear so he could grab another breath through his nose before he greedily gulped down yet another mouthful of my hot piss. As I sat there, rocking slowly back and forth, naked on my Daddy’s face while he drank my piss straight from my body, his tongue licked between my labia, stroked my clitoris, caressed my hymen, reached back almost to my perineum as I emptied my bladder into him.
I watched in fascination as his chest and stomach rose and fell as he breathed and swallowed, breathed and swallowed, swallowing every drop of my gift to him, which must have been rich and strong, full of flavour, but Daddy loved it, and just lay there, naked on his back with his erect cock pointing to the ceiling, swallowing every drop of his naked daughter’s hot, sweet piss!
What a family!
I was becoming more and more aware that whilst my Daddy had had a great afternoon, whipping me before cumming all over my stomach, I’d endured a lot of pain and not much else. Don’t get me wrong; I was my Daddy’s daughter, there primarily for his pleasure, of course, but I did feel it was “my turn”, and as I sat on his face and pissed in his mouth, my logical schoolgirl mind told me that there was only one way to go.
All through the summer I’d proved to both of us that I’d achieved my best orgasms when I was hurt, and despite all the theories about “subspace”, etc. (I’d done some constructive research when I wasn’t just lying by the pool or being strapped to the barrel!), I knew in my heart, and my mind, and elsewhere in my body, that for me the equation was simple. More pain equals more orgasm - end of story!
I looked around the dining room, searching for inspiration. Nothing. I looked out of the window. The storm was shaking the glass again so there was nothing going to happen for me out there. Then I thought about the big dining table beside us and looked down at myself, at my beautiful sexy new shoes and my new straps and suddenly I had a plan! I gulped when I thought for even a moment about the torture I was about to instigate for my self, but it felt right. It was the logical (schoolgirl thought again) conclusion to our dirty summer of our excitement and my pain.
My bladder was empty and I cautiously raised myself up. I didn’t have to wipe myself because my Daddy had kissed my cunt one more time and licked me clean and dry; then I heard him smack his lips as he flicked his tongue round his mouth, savouring the last taste of my sweet golden liquid. I stood up tall and straight and naked in my new shoes with my feet still on either side of his head. A flash from outside illuminated the room.
“Daddy, we can’t go outside in this. Put a couple of cushions on the dining table, one on top of the other.”
He got to his feet and placed a couple of cushions from the huge sofa on the table.
“That’s it; now help me climb up. I promise I won’t scratch the wood with my new heels.”
And my Daddy obediently helped me to first climb up and then to sit down on the small pile of cushions. With my feet dangling towards the floor he steadied me as I carefully lay down across the table, flat on my back so that my head tipped backwards off the far edge. I felt my big, sore breasts separate on my chest and rest against my upper arms, which I’d let flop down by my side; my hands, and more to the point, my wrists with their jingling straps rested on the wood, just beside my hips.
“Daddy, lift my legs up one at a time and clip my ankles to my wrists.”
He understood my plan immediately, clever man, and quickly lifted my right foot up on to the table and clipped it to my right wrist. In a moment he’d done the same with my left foot and wrist, and there I was, lying flat on my back, naked across the dining table, with my arse raised high up on the two cushions, and my knees bent so that my feet were flat on the wooden surface beside my hips.
Clipped together as I was in this position, my legs naturally spread themselves wide apart as my knees flopped outwards; the secret, dirty places between them now anything but secret. With my arse raised on the small pile of cushions, and my ankles pulled close to my hips, I knew that my cunt and my sweet little anus were pointing to the ceiling, completely exposed, completely on display to my Daddy’s avid gaze.
But I wanted him to be in absolutely no doubt as to what I wanted, so I carefully stretched my arms apart across the flat surface, dragging my feet and legs with them. I actually remembered to take some care to not scratch the wood with my new heels! The arc through which my wrists travelled meant that my legs, joined as they were to my wrists, were not only spread wide apart, but had to bend back at the knees even more, squeezing my calves hard against my thighs so that my dirty places were even more exposed and vulnerable.
I was young, with a fit young girl’s flexible body, so I was reasonably comfortable when my knees flopped even further open until they were almost resting on the table. My pubic mound, with it’s little thatch of dark hair, was the highest part of my body, and my upward facing cunt and arsehole were the most exposed the had ever been, the most exposed that it was possible for them to be; open to my Daddy’s gaze, and completely vulnerable, waiting, with no protection and defence for what was about to happen
I looked down the length of my splayed, naked body at my Daddy. He was standing at my feet, drinking in the vision of depraved and dirty loveliness that I presented to him. His cock was huge again, standing stiff in front of his stomach; he had already started to unbuckle the belt from round his naked waist, so I think he knew what I was about to say.
I smiled up at him.
“Daddy, it’s time. Take our bright new belt, wrap it once round your fist, and whip me between my legs – for real. Daddy, please whip my cunt.
And so he did.
But first he took a half step back, and with an easy motion swung the belt up so that the tip rested directly on my pubic hair. I closed my eyes and waited, but not for long! I felt the belt lift off me, and then almost immediately come crashing back down on the hard bone of my pelvis, my scant, girlish pubic hair offering me no protection as I felt the belt bounce off me, only to come back down, even harder this time. With clenched teeth I kept my mouth tightly shut, but my contracting diaphragm forced the noisily through my flaring nostrils. Sweat suddenly glistened all over my body and I felt my eyes water; crying already?”
The second crack of the thick, hard tip smacking into the thin and stretched flesh of my pubic mound was deafening; the only thing louder was my scream when I lost control as he lifted his arm again and whipped me for the third time in exactly the same place; that part of my body where the soft, thin padding over my pelvis could most easily be forced aside by the impact of the flailing leather as it thudded and punched and smacked against my shrinking skin.
My tears trickled back from the corners of my eyes; I sobbed and choked but I was already becoming excited and my legs fell open even more and I lifted my hips from the cushions on which they rested and I offered myself to my Daddy; I offered my body to my Daddy, I offered my pain to my Daddy. He nodded in approval and lifted his arm again and smacked the leather down again and again, each time, it seemed, driving it harder and harder against my body, each time, it seemed to punch into the part of my red and tormented flesh it had smacked into just a second before.
He stopped and surveyed the deep red glow of my skin through the thin covering of hair at the top of my legs. He stretched forward a hand and stroked me gently with his fingers where his belt had punched into me, then he stooped low and kissed me there too, rubbing his face and chin against my tormented flesh, kissing me and licking me on the very place where seconds before he had been whipping me. The touch of his lips and his tongue and his face were a soothing antidote to my pain; I felt a sudden, uncontrollable gush of my rich, aromatic fluids pour from my cunt and trickle down over my perineum to disappear into the rich, dark world, deep between my arse cheeks where my little anus lives. It tickled, but I hurt too much and too urgently to laugh, I had no silly old song to hum.
Then he walked round beside me, his stiff cock once again bobbing in front of him, the thick rope of his mucus swinging from its tip, and took up his position beside my knee.
The stillness of the room was once again shattered by a blinding flash overhead, followed by an almost complete silence, in which my Daddy whispered to me.
“I’ve always loved your thighs, Princess.”
Through my tears I smiled bravely up at him, at least I tried to smile, and I can only hope I looked brave as he prepared to whip the softest, most pale and in some ways the most sensitive and fragile flesh on my body. The leather glinted evilly against my shining, sweating body as he laid the weight of the belt along the length of my thigh; the tip just inched short of my dripping cunt.
Over the summer he’d learned the value of making me wait; he knew that if he delayed from time to time, the anticipation made me (and still does, even though he’s played this trick on me many times over the years) tense myself in fear of the blow that is about to fall.
It certainly worked this time; the shrinking flesh on the insides of my thighs tightened up and almost went in to involuntary spasm, as I lay there, naked, waiting for the pain to continue.
Then he flicked the belt high in the air and brought it arcing down on to me with a snaking movement so that the main weight of the leather burned a path of pain the length of my thigh and the tip punched in at the last like a blow from a fist that smacked and cracked as though the lightning outside had set fire to the soft flesh, the softest flesh at the very top of my leg, a bare inch from my cunt. I shrieked! I screamed! I howled! I cried, as my cunt gushed its goodness out all over the sweet square of skin between it and my arsehole, soaking my anus afresh with the aromatic fluids of my excitement.
The sweat was dripping form me but I managed to get my cries and screams under control, and I lay there and sobbed huge wracking sobs as I watched my Daddy take careful aim once again, and whip the wicked belt down the length of my thigh and punch its hard tip into the same tormented flesh of my pale inner thigh. The pain was once again incandescent in its ferocity and I realised that my head was tossing from side to side and I was shouting,
“No, Daddy! No!”
But he ignored my cries; I was lifting my body to meet the next crack of the whip, welcoming it with spread legs and burning pain and choking tears and he whipped me over and over, with each stroke the belt tip creeping ever closer to my sex, to my labia, to my dripping cunt. My mind was in as big a mess as my body, a complete confusion, the complete turmoil of wanting desperately to be whipped on my cunt and of wanting desperately not to be whipped there. I was in acute pain, but a huge sexual excitement was building my body and the sweat of my pain was indistinguishable from the sweat of my growing sexual delirium, the gasps of my wracking sobs indistinguishable from my howls of lust and the desire to be whipped on the cunt by my Daddy until I came or I died and I didn’t really care which.
He stopped again.
“Don’t make me wait, please, don’t make me wait. I’m too scared to wait.”
He looked at me sharply and I realised that I’d actually spoken out loud. I smiled a weak, tear-filled apology as he looked down at me as he crossed to stand beside my other knee.
“Ready, Princess?” he asked me quietly.
There was a rumble of thunder.
I swallowed and sweated and nodded.
He lifted the belt, and as if in slow motion I watched it swing high above his head and start to come down towards me, the black leather snaking towards my thigh and cracking hard into it, and the hard tip accelerating as it too approached my body, approached my exposed, defenceless cunt and whipping hard into it, flicking round at the last millisecond of impact to punch deep between the lips of my labia and smack against the hood of my hard little clitoris and to hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, deep between my legs as the speed and the venom of the hurtling leather weapon split me in two and my mouth gaped soundlessly and I simply stopped breathing!
Christ!
I though I was going to pass out; really I wanted to pass out. The pain I’d felt before at the hands of my Daddy was simply as nothing compared to the sea of pain I was drowning in as my cunt was violated by this indescribable force which had the ferocity and anger enough to stop time. I was simply frozen, immobile on my back, naked on the table, held motionless in time and space by the impact of the belt in my cunt.
The belt hit me again.
Sweet Jesus!
I was wrenched back to this world as it suddenly closed in on me all too completely as once more my Daddy brought our bright new belt punching down the length of my thigh to kick hard into my cunt, the bright, new leather cracking off my labia, crushing my clitoris against my pelvis, again splitting my body between my legs with an arc of fire that burned from my knee to deep inside my womb, scorched my bowels, drove the air from my lungs….
My lungs! That was it! I’d stopped breathing. I forced my chest to heave, my ribs lifting and hauling the air into my tortured body and in my already semi-delirious state I observed my situation with a startling and logical clarity; now I have some air in my lungs, now I can scream. Good.
So I did. I lay naked on my back and my lips stretched wide and I screamed my pain and agony up to the ceiling. I screamed again, enjoying the release of the hoarse, deafening sound, enjoying the cool air in my lungs. My throat hurt. I was starting to lose my voice. The belt came down again, the tip again punching deep into me; there was a real danger that my virginity was actually going to be surrendered to a viciously swinging leather belt that was shiny with the viscous fluids oozing from my tortured body.
My Daddy must have thought so too, I was dimly aware when he moved round to stand directly between my legs and the belt slammed straight into a new target. There was an indescribable flash of pain as the sharp new leather bit into me on the tiny square of my perineum between my cunt and my arsehole, but that pain faded to nothing as the belt tip, thinner and more pointed than the old one, punched between my aching labia and smacked off my labia with a howl from me that deafened us both.
I was wracked with hellish pain. I tried to rock on to my side to protect my weeping cunt, but the bondage we’d improvised for me was too good. I could hardly move at all; I certainly couldn’t protect any part of my body from my Daddy’s flying belt. I was a helpless target for his vicious aggression
There never was such torment, such pain, inflicted on a seventeen-year-old girl ever before, never in all of recorded history; but it was happening, and it was happening now, and it was happening to me.
And it hurt so, so much!
The belt hit me again. I was too far-gone to know where. It just hit me somewhere between my legs and I was too far-gone even to care. My job was to merely to lie there and to allow myself to be punished; to be whipped. Difficult questions like where I was being whipped were simply beyond my comprehension. The pain overwhelmed me, centred in my dripping, throbbing cunt with its puffy red swollen lips. My eyes were open but I was only capable of looking in on myself, inward to my pain, inwards to my beating heart and heaving chest; inwards to my aching, tortured cunt and that sweet, tender square of flesh in the delicate space between my legs and between my cunt and my arsehole; my soft, normally so kissable perineum.
I thought’ “Please, Daddy. Kiss it, don’t hurt it any more.”
But again the belt cracked in to my once kissable perineum, kissing it hard in a way that brought my heart to my mouth and another hoarse scream to my lips and a sudden, sweet, tension, deep in my stomach.
“Oh, yes’” I whispered to my self, so quietly that even Daddy didn’t hear, and from then on I simply ceased to exist. I floated naked on my back on the table, I floated naked on my back in a delirious sea of pain, ripples of pain that washed out from my tortured sex as my Daddy’s belt continued to batter into me time after time. The excitement spread right through my body, even my bruised and abuse breasts throbbing in sympathy with my whipped cunt; my heart pounding and my body throbbing as the blood rushed through me, struggling to carry the life-giving, pain-repairing oxygen that my damaged body desperately craved, but which my distant mind disdained.
The pain was the most appalling I had ever experienced, mind-numbing in its intensity, heart-stopping in its focussed agony as Daddy kept on whipping our new belt into my cunt, and wonderful in its dirty, sexual depravity.
I struggled to spread my arms and legs even wider, lifting my bare arse off the cushions in my eager attempts to offer my wanton, degenerate self even more willingly to my punishment; pushing down with my feet in their sexy new heels to force my arse clear up into the air, bent backwards with the throbbing gash of my gaping, weeping cunt spreading itself wide to accept blow after blow of the shining, saturated leather weapon which was turning my most intimate dirty places into a sea of unrelenting pain and bliss. I pushed myself up and up towards my torturer. I realised I was shouting;
“Smack me, Daddy, smack me hard. Smack my cunt; oh Christ, hit me with that fucking thing won’t you. Yes, yes! That’s it. Fuck! Yes! C’mon Daddy! I’m not a little kid; hit me, yes right there! Again!”
Then lightning lit the room and the world rumbled around me and the sea of my pain exploded all round me and a wave of my depraved delight threw me backwards on to the surface of the table with my tears cascading from my eyes to soak my hair and the polished wood and my gaping cunt contracted and squeezed in spasm deep down into my womb and my gushing fluids simply sprayed out from between my legs, soaking my Daddy’s hard cock and his stomach as he continued to whip me. I wailed my pleasure to the ceiling and my whole naked, abused body writhed its agonised orgasm and I continued to spray pure, filthy sex from my cunt and my uncontrollable spasms of delight shuddered through me. The back of my head jerked back onto the hard table top with a thud. I almost lost consciousness but the pain in my head was lost in the pain from my whipped cunt, and my legs jerked and my knees opened as I lost all control and my Daddy lost all control and flailed my body indiscriminately with the belt and whipped me indiscriminately all over the insides of my thighs and between my legs again and again.
Still with my orgasm wracking my body I pushed myself up towards him once more, my slim, undulating body articulating my desperate plea to him; “My cunt, Daddy, hit my cunt!”
And so he did, but already I was coming down. My cascading tears faded to deep, shuddering sobs. He stopped his punishment and I lifted my knees back up until they touched, squeezing my thighs together in a vain attempt to comfort to the abused flesh between my legs. Now that my orgasm was fading, the pain started to come back, to grow and grow and to hurt me more and more in all the places where our hard new belt had punched it kisses of our fiery, debauched love deep into my soft, abused, fragile, amazing seventeen-year-old body.
I was coming down fast from the wonderful, pain-induced plateau that I had inhabited for those few short minutes and I wept in my desolation and despair that I had at last found that special place only to lose it again so soon. I wept because I had to go to the States soon and would have to leave my Daddy behind; me sweet, loving Daddy who understood me so well and gave me what I needed so generously. And I wept because my cunt and my thighs hurt like hell where my Daddy had whipped me mercilessly as I lay in front of him, naked on my back and trussed up to present him with the perfect target for him to whip, my naked cunt spread open like a smiling mouth, ready for the wicked kisses of our new belt.
I sobbed uncontrollably for a long time and my Daddy came round behind me and cradled my head in his hands, kissing my eyelids and cheeks to dry up my tears.
I opened my eyes.
“Daddy,” I whispered, “Thank you. That was wonderful, the most special….”
I was lost for words.
“I love you.”
I was surprised when he didn’t answer. I looked up at him. His mouth was working but he couldn’t speak. He could only look at me through his reddened eyes and shake his head as his tears ran down his cheeks.
My sweat was already cooling on my body when I craned my neck round to look at him. Just above my face he still had a huge, drooling erection bobbing in front of his stomach, his juices dripping from his swollen balls into my mouth, but gentleman that he was, he was doing his best to ignore it as he comforted me in my distress.
I whispered up to him again.
“Daddy, go round and look between my legs,”
Mystified, he sniffed and did as I’d ordered.
“I have something special for you.”
You see, as I’d been lying there with my feet flat on the table in their sexy new black heels and my legs bent high at my knees, I’d enjoyed the feeling as my thick, viscous, sweet smelling fluids continued to trickle from my cunt as it gradually recovered from its spasms, and felt them trickle slowly down over the sweet, dark rosebud of my anus. My Daddy wouldn’t make love to me by entering my sex in the usual way, but I was suddenly desperate to have him cum in me instead of on me, fun as that can be, so I parted my feet a little and slipped my hands down over the cheeks of my arse and with my fingers pulled them apart enough to display my arsehole to him.
Remembering how I’d helped him to slip his finger in to me – had that really been earlier on that same day - I gently pushed my sphincter out a little way towards him. I reckoned that enough of my fluids had trickled down from my cunt to ease his entry to this, my most sweet and secret place, and so I looked up at him with a smile and said,
“Please?”
His cock was against my arse in an instant and bending at the knees he shut his eyes and gently forced his tip into me. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, I felt like a Victorian heroine and I almost swooned with delirious pleasure. My Wicked Daddy was inside me. Gorgeous! I know that he’d cum in my mouth before, but this was different, this was better, easier.
Actually, it was a lot easier for both of us!
It was easier to set up a rocking motion with my hips than to bob my head up and down, and he was able to stand almost motionless as his cock slipped deeper and deeper into my anus and I rocked my body gently back and forth, back and forth, the tightness of my virgin arsehole really doing all the work for both of us as it gripped his big hard cock and I moved my body to slide him back and forth inside me.
It was heavenly, and at least I wasn’t going to choke and vomit down my breasts as I had a few days previously when the tip of his cock repeatedly brushed the back of my throat. And we could look at each other as I languidly screwed my Daddy with my arse. He reached down to fondle my breasts then lifted his head and pushed deeper into, his stomach thrusting against me and his face in a huge grin as his cock erupted, spraying his spunk into me, deep into my arse. With a smile I relaxed and pushed easily against him and I once again burst in to tears, this time for love, for love for my Daddy as a gentle, sweet orgasm lifted me high above the pain of my body.
And that, dear Reader, is how my wonderful summer of love with my Daddy came to an end. I hope I haven’t shocked you with some of my memories but it has been my pleasure to share them with you; they are very precious to me.
One of the big important lessons that I learned that summer was that I need the support and love of an older man to guide me and nurture me. My Daddy has always done that for me, but not in a mean spirited or selfish way; he was (and still is) delighted that I have found a lover who looks after me in the same way as he always has, not instead but as well. The fact that my lover is a woman doesn’t faze him in the slightest, as you will read when I get the next batch of these memories written down.
In fact they sometimes work together as the three of us seek our path together.
But he helped me find all this out about myself. I publicly thank him for that now, with all my love.
Canz
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