tagIncest/TabooDaddy's Little Fuck Toy

Daddy's Little Fuck Toy


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bydreamweaver5539©

On a business trip I met a wonderfully charming couple a while back. She was young, pretty, very shy and quiet, always smiling in a cute and innocent manner and prone to spontaneous outbursts of giggling. She had a 'voluptuous' figure, being very curvy and well-rounded. The gentleman accompanying her was tall, solidly built, quite handsome and very charming. He was appreciably older than her, I would have guessed with her at 20 and he in his early 40's, but that is not that uncommon these days. They were very cuddly and obviously very intense and satisfied lovers. She frequently would refer to him as 'daddy' and I thought perhaps this was a pet name or she had a daddy fetish. On inquiring more deeply though I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she was indeed his daughter. She mentioned a step-mother, whom she said had recently left their household and was apparently not missed. I recite here what was revealed to me in confidence by her. No names or locations will be used to protect the deliciously and erotically guilty!

*****

I grew up in a western state, without much money and with a lot of religion, as is common in these parts. My papa is a preacher man, but he don't make much, so we have a little home that I grew up in, together with papa and his second wife. I was pulled out of school when he re-married and after that was home-tutored by my step-mother. She was a strict lady and heavy on the whip. She taught me to read the Bible, of right and wrong, and very little of the outside world. She said that a woman's body was sacred and should not ever be shared except with only one man, and that man had to be the most special man in the world to the woman. Papa was a gentle and very caring man and would take me on trips into town from time to time, and so I was always daddy's little girl, feeling very close to my pa but never close at all my new step-mother.

When I turned 18 papa asked me what I wanted for my gift and I said that I wanted a real dress. Like I had seen the women at church wear. A flowing dress that made me feel pretty. He smiled and said that, yes, he had to accept that his little girl was a woman now and all grown up and so deserved to start to look and feel like a woman. We got in the pick-up and drove into town.

The lady in the fancy store said I was a size 12, but that it was hard to find a dress to fit me because of the size of my boobs. Not wanting to hear about our discussion Papa wandered off to go look at guns in another store. She measured me up and said that I was a 42 G across the bust line. I knew I had big boobs compared to my step-mother and the ladies at church but I didn't know what 42 G meant. She said that it meant that I would need a special bra and that she would have to let out the dress I had selected for it to fit properly. I had never wore a bra before as my step-mother was against them for a young lady. So the lady at the store had to help teach me how to put it on. It was so complicated and there were so many little clasps in the back I could not reach. She also said I should have some nice underwear and some high heel shoes to make the outfit complete. I had never worn fancy shoes before and she had to teach me how to walk in them as well. She then said it would take a while for her to alter the dress and suggested I go across the road to get my hair and make-up done at her friends spot. She called ahead so that she could charge all the costs from her location, understanding that I had no money. I knew papa didn't have much money either, but I wanted to look as pretty as I could for him, so without reservation I went over to the fancy hair salon.

When papa got back he was pissed at the cost for everything and I heard him arguing with the lady as I was finishing putting on my dress in the change room. But when I came out into the store he just stopped talking. I stood there with my long black hair down around my shoulders, all curled and shampooed, with my white summer dress showing my bare shoulders and stopping short of my knees to reveal my calves. My fancy bra pushed up my boobs to cause my ample cleavage to spill into view at the top of the dress. The new shoes had narrow heels on them 3 inches high according to the lady, which accentuated by smooth calves and pushed my well rounded tush outward. Papa just stared at me, his mouth gaping wide open.

"Do you think that I am pretty, papa?" I asked.

"You are an angel darling, a true angel. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen." My daddy exclaimed. He made me feel like a queen! I ran over to my papa and gave him a big loving hug but was surprised to find a hard big object pushing against my belly. I thought he must have bought a new gun and reaching down tried to push it away. I wrapped my hand around the gun and ya, it was certainly big around for a gun barrel, and kinda long for one too, but I couldn't get it to budge. You see I was still a virgin and never had been with a boy before, having no school to go to and living on our dirt road, so I didn't know what it was. It was inside his pants, I gathered at least that much.

Papa smiled at the sales lady while pushing my hand away and paid her in cash without further argument. Then papa told me to get in the truck and taking me by the hand hurriedly rushed me toward the truck door. As we drove home I noticed how papa kept looking over at me. He seemed so distracted that he almost ran off the road a few times. He looked at my hair, and at my bright red lipstick painted lips. He asked if I had more make-up and if I had been taught how to put it on and I said yes to both. He looked at my neck and my chest, spending a lot of time seeming to be trying to figure out how my new bra fit around my boobs. When we would hit a pothole or rut in the road and the vibration of the truck would cause my exposed cleavage to jiggle and shake daddy would stare intensely at the soft white flesh bounce about, as if he were afraid that my boobs might burst free from my bra.

Daddy also looked down a lot at my knees and calves and my bare thighs, which had become largely exposed by my sitting on the tight seat. He said I was an angel and that he had never noticed before how beautiful I was. He said that I had pretty legs and a pretty chest and that I should save these clothes to wear only for him when mother was away. He said that way I would always be his birthday girl. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and agreed that this was a good idea.

As we travelled on he kept staring at my chest and I asked him if he was interested in my bra. Papa said that was it, yes, and that it was a very nice one, that he hadn't seen such a pretty one before. My summer dress had a number of buttons running from the top to my navel and I asked him if he would like me to undo them so that he could see the bra better. He said that if that was what I wanted to do, then sure, why not. I undid the four buttons and pulled back the material. The white bra covered my boobs, but just barely. The lady at the store had said the bra that it was the only 42G bra she had in stock and that it was designed to accentuated the natural beauty of my cleavage. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I had noticed when she put it on me how it barely covered my nipples and that it pushed my boobs up so that they looked like large white round watermelons.

I really liked the nice white lace around the edges of the bra and asked papa if he liked the lace too. Reaching over papa ran his fingers over the lace that lifted my right breast. He said that the lace was very pretty and I smiled back at him, enjoying the compliment on my bra. He then ran his fingers over the entire bra and under the bra, slightly lifting the belly of my boob. He then returned his fingers back to the lace and sliding two fingers underneath rubbed the smooth puffy flesh of my covered boob. Then he let his fingers slide into the valley between my peaks and rubbed his fingers up and down there, making me laugh and giggle from the tickling sensation.

He then let his fingers slide up the flesh of my left breast to the lace on the bra there. Running his fingers up and down over the lace he then pulled the lace to the side. This had the effect of revealing the nipple on my left breast. My areoles are a bright pink and about the size of the rim around a coffee cup. For some reason papa's touching of my bra had made my nipples get hard and I looked down to see the pink nipple standing outward and erect. It was about the diameter and length of my pinky finger down to the first knuckle. I didn't mind how papa seemed to stare at my nipple. I didn't really get boobs or nipples, or understand why a man might be interested in them. My step-mother had told me they were for feeding babies, and that with my boobs and big nipples that I could feed hundreds of babies. I thought she meant that my boobs and nipples were big and ugly, like a cows udders. But papa seemed to be rather fond of them! And anything that made my papa happy made me happy.

Holding back my bra by the lace for quite some time papa continued staring at my nipple until he almost went off the road again. Regaining control of the truck he then quickly flicked my big nipple with his finger, making me giggle and smile, before he released the lace. "Ya, very nice lace on your bra. And such very pretty nipples that you have." I smiled at the compliment and gave daddy a kiss on his warm cheek. "How does the bra stay up?" He then inquired. I explained that it had four hooks in the back that the lady had to do up for me. I said it was too complicated for me to get done up by myself and I didn't know how I would get out of it later tonight. Papa was kind enough to offer to undo them for me. He said that as I would only be wearing my outfit for him when we were alone that he could therefore always help me on and off with the bra. Daddy was so thoughtful and loving that it made me feel all warm inside.

Shifting his attention to my bare leg he placed a hand on my thigh and asked if the lady had got me matching panties with lace as well. I said yes and asked if he wanted to see. He said sure. I was so happy that he said yes because I really wanted to show daddy my laced panties. I pulled up my dress and showed him the white panties, feeling very pretty as I did so. The material was very thin and the darkness of my thick black bush could be seen through the panties. I ran my finger around the pretty lace that defined the V of my crotch. "See, here is the same lace, right here!" I exclaimed. Papa moved his hand off my leg and onto the lace. He ran his fingers around and over and around and over the lace. "Yes, very very pretty." He said. He then moved his fingers over the center of the panties running them around in little circles, saying that there was a nice pattern in the middle as well.

I had never had a boy or man see or touch my breasts before, let alone touch me down there! I knew that she was for making babies and even though my mother had forbid doing so I did touch her sometimes late at night. But having daddy's fingers touch me there made me suddenly feel flushed. I felt her tingling and I instinctively spread my legs wider and lifted my dress higher for my papa.

Then papa's fingers started to play in the thick black hair that overflowed beyond my panties. He said that now that I was a woman that I needed to trim my bush so that the hair all stayed under my panties. Lifting my panties he ran his hand beneath them, grasping a big handful of the thick hair that was underneath. I spread my legs wide at the gesture and began to thrust my hips up and down against his hand, not understanding why, but never wanting it to stop. Pulling his hand from my crotch papa said I needed to start trimming my bush and that he would teach me how. I thanked him, continuing to sit there with my legs spread open. I noticed a wet spot on the bottom of my panties and so did papa.

Taking my hand in his he placed both our fingers over the wet spot and began to rub our fingers up and down over it. Papa explained to me "You have to be careful about getting a wet spot like this on your panties, or you will ruin them. Whenever you get a wet spot on your panties you need to come see me right away and then we will remove them so they don't get ruined." Laying there with my legs spread, rubbing myself through my panties like I did at night, but this time with papa watching and with his finger also rubbing up and down on my sensitive place, I barely heard the words he said and just nodded, feeling drool begin to leak between my painted lips and run down my chin.

At this point we almost hit an on-coming truck and grabbing the wheel with both hands papa barely managed to avoid a crash. "Better put your dress back down for now young lady before we have to go and explain ourselves before God tonight." He said and I obeyed without question. I was still deeply flushed from papa showing me where not to get wet on my panties and looking over at him I noticed he was flushed too. I also noticed that the long hard rod that had poked me in the store still rose like a tent pole in his pants. I stared down at the pole, curious to what he might have there. Mother had never discussed such things in our home studies. Papa noticed me staring at his crotch. "What?" He said.

"What is in your pants papa?" I asked.

"Nothing." He responded.

"Oh, it's definitely something!" I voiced. "It isn't normally there, but in the store it poked me in the belly, and when I grabbed it, it wasn't no gun! But it is long and hard like a gun. Please papa, tell me what it is?"

For some reason papa touching my breasts and legs and bush and wet spot had made me extra curious about what he was hiding in his pants. Papa did not answer my question so I reached over and grabbed hold of it again. He let out a deep moan but this time did not push me away like he had in the store. I squeezed it as hard as my small hand could, and then releasing it from my grasp, squeezed it again over and over. "See, it's all hard. And big. Much longer than my hand and bigger around than my fingers can hold. And it pulses when I squeeze it. What is it daddy, please tell me!" I begged. He said it was a secret for now but he might show me some day. I asked if I could keep squeezing it for the rest of the ride home. He said that I could squeeze it all I liked but only when we were alone. I told daddy that I loved him and that I was so happy that he would let me squeeze his pole and that I would only do it when we were alone. I felt special knowing that daddy and I had a little secret that step-mother wouldn't know about. I told daddy that my dress and his pole would be our secret.

Daddy put an arm around me and pulling me tight up against him cupped my right breast in his hand as he kissed me on the cheek. I continued to squeeze his tent pole and each time I did I felt his hand squeeze my boob. He said it was a way to playfully tickle me. I loved the feeling of his hand on my boob, and my hand on his tent pole, and I squealed and giggled as daddy tickled me the rest of the ride home by lifting and squeezing my sensitive boob. I kissed him frequently on the cheek, telling him how much I loved him, and he would turn and kiss me on the cheek as well, telling me how beautiful his little girl had grown to be. Once we both turned to kiss each other on the cheek at the same time and our lips met and kissed. I had never kissed a boy before. I liked it though as it made me feel all silly inside and so I kissed him three more times quickly on the mouth. He smiled and told me that my painted lips tasted delicious. He then gave me a long kiss on my mouth as he crushed my boob quite firmly in his hand. I responded by squeezing his tent pole as hard as I could as I felt the wet spot on my panties grow much larger.

Arriving home the lights were out. My step-mother wasn't home from her card playing night yet. Papa took my hand and led me into the house. His big tent stuck out far and I kept grabbing and pulling at it as we entered the house. I giggled at the way my squeezing his pole made him moan and loved how it made him grab my boobs and kiss my face. He brought me to my room and said that we should protect the dress and keep it in a safe place and that I should only wear it on special occasions when we were alone. I thought this was a great idea and agreed eagerly, saying we should put all the clothes away now. The front buttons were still undone from in the truck so papa helped me wiggle the shoulders down over my boobs. Papa was a gentleman and getting on his knees helped to pull the dress over my hips and he lowered it down around my shoes.

He ran his hands up and down my legs, telling me that I was a beautiful girl and had very lovely legs. I giggled and laughed, happy with my daddy's compliments and the pleasure that he seemed to find in touching the skin of my body. He ran his fingers over the black hair on my bush that was outside my panties. And he wrapped his hands around my bum and gave it a quick squeeze and slap, saying every girl should have her pretty bum spanked by her daddy every day. I giggled in delight from all the loving attention and together we collected the dress and putting it on a hanger carefully hung it in the closet. I stood before daddy in my bra, panties and high heel shoes. Standing before him I reached out with both my hands and clutched his tent pole with my fingers, infatuated now with what he kept beneath his pants. Daddy put his hands on my hips and pulling my body close he gave me another deep kiss on the mouth. Then looking down at my cleavage he said it would probably be best if he helped me out of the bra and hung it up. I turned around and raising my hair showed him the clasps at the back. "These are what holds it up, but I can't get them undone." I explained. Daddy was understanding and said that he would always do them up and undo them for me. After he unhooked all the clasps I turned to face daddy, holding my bra up over my boobs with my hands.

"No need to be shy dear, I am your father. You shouldn't show your chest to other men, but a father can see his daughter's bare chest. And you have such a truly lovely chest, it is a shame for you to hide it from me anymore." And with these words he pushed my arms down, causing the bra to fall to the floor. I stood before my daddy now, clad only in panties and heels, my big heavy boobs and full erect nipples completely bare to his view. It felt so exhilarating to have my chest bare and for my daddy to be looking at my boobs! Touching my boobs with his fingertips and rubbing them over my nipples, daddy gave me another kiss on my lips. "God what truly beautiful fucking tits you have." He exclaimed as he continued to explore my boobs and nipples with his fingers.

He then asked if the bra had made my breasts feel itchy. I thought for a second and said yes, yes it had. He said that this was normal and that to avoid getting a rash I had to have them massaged each time after the bra was removed. Raising my hands I cupped my boobs. Not boobs, yes, as daddy said, they were tits. I began to rub my tits to relieve the itch. Daddy's hands joined mine and together we worked hard at relieving my tits from the annoying itchiness. Papa told me to rub my nipples while he focused on lifting my breasts and squeezing them together. Then we changed places and I caressed my breasts as papa pinched and pulled at my nipples.

Sitting me on the bed papa sat behind me and cupped my breasts in his hands and again, together, we kneaded the flesh to work out the itch. My breasts and nipples felt wonderful and I could not remember feeling so much pleasure before! As my head swooned papa told me to lay down on the bed as tits also need to be rubbed in that position. "Tits?" I inquired. He said it was a religion term for breasts. As I lay there daddy thoughtfully crushed my tits together in his hands and lovingly squeezed and massaged them while telling me to continue pinching and pulling at my nipples to keep them hard as that helped relieve the itch. "Yes daddy, anything you say daddy." I responded, compliant and obedient to his words. He was the boss, and he made me feel beautiful and loved, so I did whatever my daddy said to do.

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