Gender: Male Age: 66 Location: Central Florida
|Introduction: 13 Year old Marcie plans to give away her virginity but her father discovers her plan.|
It was Saturday morning and I was gathering up the laundry. I liked to get everything together then sort it by color or fabric. The laundry was my job. So was cooking, some of the cleaning, the lawn and gardens, attending school functions, disciplinarian in short, the jobs of parents. I also had to hold down a full time job to provide a home and food for myself and my 13 year old daughter, Marcie. My name is Don Renfro and I’m a single parent. My wife died in child birth so it’s just been Marcie and me for all of her 13 years.
I needed Marcie’s dirty clothes so I knocked on her closed bedroom door. When I knocked I heard her scamper as she called, come in. Marcie was in her bathroom when I entered. I picked up her hamper and dumped her dirty clothes in my basket, put the hamper back and started to walk out of the room when I noticed the odor in the room.
I paused and sniffed the air. I’d not smelled this scent in years but men don’t forget. I smelled the distinct scent of feminine arousal. My Marcie I thought, no way, she was only 13 but my nose wasn’t deceiving me, I was sure.
I called out, “Marcie, honey, are you ok?”
Her voice sounded a little strange, strained as she answered back, “Yeah Daddy, I’m fine.”
Then I glanced over, there was a wet spot in the middle of her bed spread. I walked over and felt the spot; yes, it was still wet. I sniffed the stain, pussy, no question. My little girl had been masturbating.
I left the room and carried my load to the laundry room. Sorting the clothes I checked her underwear. Several pairs of her panties had stiff gussets soiled with a white crust. Evidence of leakage, but not every pair was soiled this way, so it wasn’t from a chronic vaginal discharge. Oh, it had been discharged from a vagina all right, it was cum, dried cum. Was my little girl sexually active? I had to find out.
I’d never been much of a sleuth where Margie was concerned. I let her have her privacy and her little girl secrets but what I feared needed my attention.
I wanted to find out what was going on.
The Monday morning I did something I’d never done before. After Margie left for school I searched her room. I found a few things that upset and depressed me. I couldn’t be sure she was having sex from what I found; nonetheless I found some pretty explicit letters from a 16 year old boy. I was surprised to find letters, with today’s technology; cell phones, e-mail and so forth I didn’t know anyone still wrote.
I got an even bigger surprise in the drawer of Marcie’s night stand. I found a vibrator,
what I thought was a slim dildo and a tube of lubricating gel. Then I noticed that the dildo was oddly shaped; it tapered from the tip back, widening then shrinking to a thin neck and it had a base. Odd I thought, and then it dawned on me what I was holding in my hand. It was a butt plug. Marcie, my 13 year old daughter with a vibrator and a butt plug; what the hell was going on. I had to know.
Marcie had her own cell phone, I couldn’t monitor that; she also had her own computer and her own e-mail account. That I could check out. I had her password. No, I hadn’t snooped before, she’d let it slip. I fired up her computer and went to Outlook Express.
She had three e-mails in her in box and I read them. Two were from girl friends but even one of those was suspect. Her friend Carley was inviting her to a party the next the following Saturday. She told Marcie to plan to stay overnight. To tell me it was a sleep-over with several other girls. And several other girls would be there but Carley’s parents wouldn’t. They were going out of town for the week end. Carley told her that some guys were coming over and they were going to bring some beer and wine coolers. They were coming at seven but Carley wanted Marcie and the other girls there by four so they could lie around the pool for a while. Her parting words were, don’t forget your bikini, the guys will think you’re hot.
Then I clicked on her received messages. I only read a couple and that was enough. The 16 year old was named Ray and he was going to be at Carley’s next Saturday.
It was her sent messages that were the shocking eye opener. I read the one to Ray setting up next Saturday and telling him she had a special surprise for him. Then it got sickening to me. I discovered that she was giving Ray oral sex and that she was getting ready for more. In one e-mail she told him that she’d bought a vibrator and a butt plug. She was using them to stretch herself out so he could get in easier. It seemed Ray wanted both her virginal pussy and her virginal ass and she getting herself ready to give both to him.
I was at a loss, what could I do. I didn’t really want her to know that I’d searched her room and read her e-mails, in spite of what I’d found she would still see it as a violation of trust; which of course it was. But I damned sure had to do something. She was only 13 for Christ sake.
Throughout the week I tried to talk to Marcie, to draw her out but she was unresponsive and sullen with me.
On Wednesday she sprung the slumber party on me. I asked the normal parental questions; were her parents going to be there; her response was, “Of course Daddy.”
What time did it start? “I want to be there by four. We’re going to lie around the pool then order some pizzas later.” When was she planning to come home? “I’ll call you to pick me up, it should be around noon.” Who was going to be there? “Carley, me, Allison and Ginnie, that’s all.”
I gave my approval but thought she’d been awfully nervous it talking to me.
I asked, “Marcie is there something the matter? You haven’t been your bubbly self this week. You seem nervous about something. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter Daddy; I’m just a little out of sorts. It’s that time of the month.”
I knew that was untrue. I did the laundry.
Had you asked I would have said that Marcie had never lied to me. It was one of my hard and fast rules, no lies between us. Now, in one conversation she’d lied to me at least three times. She’d be disciplined for that when we got there.
I’d spanked Marcie three or four times in her life, it wasn’t frequent but it had happened and I was pretty sure it was going to happen again; the upcoming Saturday night.
Saturday afternoon at 3:45 I dropped Marcie off at Carley’s. She was carrying a small overnight bag and I was surprised at how she was dressed. She was a shorts and t-top girl but she was wearing a skirt and blouse and had put on a bit of make-up. I commented on how nice she looked but asked, “What’s the special occasion?” It was like she hadn’t heard me. She was so nervous as we rode to Carley’s that she was unable to sit still in the car. She squirmed all over the seat. It was so evident that I finally said, “Gosh Marcie what’s up? You got ants in your pants? You seem as nervous as a long tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.”
She didn’t answer.
At Carley’s she got out and told she’d call me the next day when she was ready to come home.
I left her and went back to our house. I’d made plans as to how I was going to “find her out” now I had to put them into action and timing was important. I wanted to get back to Carley’s after the boys had arrived but before Marcie had given Ray his “gift.”
I went to her room and packed a small tote bag with a change of panties, a pair of shorts, a top and one of her bathing suits. I checked her night stand drawer, her toys were there. I guess she thought she wouldn’t need them tonight. I carried them to my room and put them in the night stand.
I had a chair in my room and it would do. I got out my deceased wife’s hairbrush. It was an heirloom; it had been her grandmother’s. It was broad and heavy; perfect for the job I was planning for later.
I sat around, had one beer and tried to watch a little TV but I was just too anxious to concentrate. Finally I paced. I wanted to leave at eight o’clock. I figured by then the girls would have paired up but not gone too far.
It was late fall so it was dark by eight. I parked in the street and walked to the front door. The lights in the house were dimmed. Then I rang the door bell.
It took a long time but finally Carley answered. Her hair was a mess. I could see she was shocked by my presence.
I said, “Hi Carley I think Marcie forgot to take her things showing her the little tote. I wanted to drop them off and have a word with your folks. May I come in?”
I stepped in, looked around and asked, “Carley, where are your parents? I didn’t see their car in the drive.”
“Aaah, they went out.”
“Carley, Marcie told me they were going to be here.” I walked further into the room. There were empty beer and wine cooler bottles on the coffee table. I pointed to them and asked, “Carley, what’s going on? What are these?”
She couldn’t answer. She was pretty sure she was in some real trouble. Her parents and I were pretty good friends.
I said, “Carley, I thing you’d better call Marcie out here.”
And she did. She called, “Marcie come here.”
Instead of Marcie, a pimply faced teenaged boy walked out the bedroom door yelling, “Carley, you’re interrupting us. What the fuck do you want?”
He was shirtless, his hair was a mess and lipstick smears were evident on his face. He hadn’t noticed me.
I cleared my throat to get his attention.
“Who the fuck are you?” He yelled at me.
“I’m Marcie’s father, and to parrot you, who the fuck are you?” I answered.
“Oh shit,” I heard him say as he headed for the back door.
I walked into the bedroom he had come from. Marcie was sprawled across the bed. Her blouse was unbuttoned, her make-up smeared and her skirt was nearly to her waist. At least she still had her panties on.
Her eyes got huge and she started to tremble when she saw me. I didn’t say much, just, “Get your things, we’re going home.”
I walked her to the car and put her in the front seat.
She started to talk, talking fast, running her word together, trying to explain.
I said, “Save it until we got home and don’t compound things by telling me untruths.”
The rest of the ride was in silence.
“Have a seat in the living room. We have things to discuss.” I said as I walked to the kitchen to get a beer. “Do you want a coke,” I called back to her.
“Yes please Daddy.”
I brought our drinks and sat across from her. She was sitting on the sofa with her legs curled up under her skirt. She looked like she’d like to fade into the cushions.
“Marcie, I’m going to ask you some questions and I want the truth. It will go a long way determining how much I can trust you in the future. Do you understand?”
Her voice was a little girl’s voice as she said, “Yes Daddy.”
“Marcie, did you know Carley’s parents were not going to be at home?”
“You intentionally lied to me about that am I right?”
“Did you know boys were going to be there?”
“I can’t say you outright lied to me about that but you deceived me. When I asked who was going to be there you told you and three other girls, isn’t that right?”
“There was beer and wine there; did you know that was going to be there?”
“I wasn’t sure Daddy.”
“You’re hedging. Did you or did you not know the booze was going to be there?”
“Yes Daddy, I knew.”
“Who was the boy in the room with you?”
“His name is Ray Daddy.”
“Marcie, how old is he?”
“Ray’s sixteen Daddy.”
“Now were going to get to the tough part. What were you and Ray doing in the bedroom?”
“We were kissing, that’s all.”
“That’s all? Have you ever done anything with Ray or anyone else, and I mean sexually.”
I just stared at her, giving her a chance to amend her answer. She didn’t change her story. She looked at me and in the most quivery of voices asked, “You’re going to spank me aren’t you Daddy?”
“What do you think I should do Marcie, you tell me.”
“Daddy I don’t want a spanking. I’m thirteen years old; I’m too old to be spanked.”
“Marcie, using your age as a defense doesn’t cut it. You’re implying maturity comes with the years yet what you’ve done today was the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done in your life. So, no, thirteen is not too old for a spanking. Spanking is a discipline for irresponsible behavior. I think that’s what you’ve demonstrated today.”
“Daddy, please don’t spank me.” Marcie had tears in her eyes as she pled with me. It didn’t sway me. She was still lying to me and before the evening was over she was going to confess to everything she’d done.
I got up, walked to the sofa, reached down and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. Then I led her upstairs.
Marcie was whimpering as I walked her into my bedroom and sat her on the bed. I sat in my chair and asked, “Is there anything else, anything more you want to tell me?”
“Is that no you don’t want to tell me or do you mean there’s not anything to tell?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Marcie, are you sure; last chance.”
“No Daddy, nothing else.”
“Ok, that’s it then. Stand up.”
Marcie stood at the side of the bed.
I told her, “Undress and come here.”
She just stood, whimpering, “No Daddy, please.”
“Marcie, I asked you to undress and come here.”
She still didn’t move. I could see that she was terrified.
I got up and walked to her.
I unbuttoned her blouse; she tried to hold my hands, to stop me but that didn’t work.
Next I unfastened her skirt and unzipped it letting it fall to the floor. Now clad in only her panties and bra Marcie folded her arms over her breasts. I unfastened her brassiere and lifted it off her shoulders.
As I took hold of the fabric of her panties and started to roll them down she wailed, “No Daddy, no, please no, don’t take my panties. Please let me keep them, please, please, pleeeese no, not that way.”
“Marcie, either you’re going to take them off or I am, your choice.” I said as I stepped back.
She just stood sobbing.
I stepped behind her and pulled her panties over her slim hips where they dropped to the floor. “Step out of them,” I said.
She still just stood there.
I picked her up, the panties fell off her feet and I sat her on the bed.
I could see that the crotch of her panties was soaking.
“Marcie, we’re going to go over your clothes. Do you want to tell me what we might find?”
“Nothing Daddy,” She whispered.
I started with her blouse. There were smudges from her make-up but that was all, it could have happened just kissing. Next was her skirt. I’d noticed a stain earlier and now I pointed it out to her. The stain was still damp and sticky. It was semen.
“Want to tell me what this is?” I asked.
“I don’t know Daddy.”
“It’s semen I said. Now is there more that you want to tell me about tonight?”
“Marcie, I think there’s more to tell,” I said as I picked up her panties. They were soaked. I raised them to my nose and sniffed. The moisture wasn’t urine; it was the residue of an orgasm.
I tossed them to her and looked at her inquiringly, “What about these?”
She shook her head back and forth and sobbed, not answering me.
I pulled her up from the bed and led her to my chair. Positioning her on my right side I sat and asked her to lie across my lap. She bent forward but just couldn’t do it. I put an arm around her waist and guided her down.
Jiggling her a little to get her bottom in place I asked, “One final time, is there anything you want to tell me?”
I rested my hand on her bottom, rubbing her a little. She just shook her head, no.
I smacked her right cheek then her left cheek. She started kicking, trying to escape.
It was the wrong thing to do, I held her down and captured her legs, pinning them under my right leg then I pushed her forward over my left leg so that her butt was her highest point.
Then I started in earnest, I smacked her top to bottom on both cheeks and slapped the back of her thighs and worked back up. Marcie was crying and pleading for me to stop.
“Oh, oh, oooh, Daddy no more, please no more. I won’t do it again, I promise, I promise, then she was incoherent, her voice wracked by sobs. I spanked her ‘til the loud wailing was replaced with soft sobs.
I stopped spanking and just held her in place on my lap until she’d quieted down; I stood her up and led her back to the bed, sitting her down. Then I sat beside her.
I rubbed her back for a few minutes, relaxing her and letting her gather herself. Finally I asked. “Marcie, what else went on, what else did you do?”
She slowly shook her hear, no.
“Baby, it’s going to come out, you are going to tell me, why not make it now?”
Again she shook her head, no.
I sighed, I didn’t really want to do this but I was going to get the truth from her.
I stood and pulled her to her feet. As I led her back to the chair she tried to pull away. I picked her up around the waist, sat and placed her back across my lap. Tipping her to elevate her bottom I started spanking her again.
Her bottom was already crimson as I slapped her tender flesh, she started kicking again. I paused and said, “If you keep that up I’ll trap your legs again, do you want that?” The kicking stopped.
I was picking my spots, I started high on her right cheek then down, slightly over lapping the blows, then down until I was spanking her where her thighs met her bottom then I did the same thing down her left cheek, finally I spanked the backs of both of her thighs.
Marcie had started wailing and pleading again but she was soon reduced to a mewling whimper interspaced with choking sobs. She’d stopped trying to fight and just lay across my lap.
I massaged her back, rubbing and talking softly to her. “Baby, I don’t want to do this to you, please tell me what I need to hear from you.”
She lay mutely.
I helped her up and walked her back to the bed where I again sat her down. I stood in front of her and rubbed her shoulders, virtually pleading, begging her to talk to me. She didn’t say anything just sat with her head drooping, her beautiful strawberry blonde hair hanging lankly.
“Ok I said as I pulled her up, go to your room and get a fresh pair of panties. I want you to find a pair that fit you tightly. Don’t put them on yet, just bring them back in here and put them on the bed then I want you to sit on the bed and think for a few minutes about honesty, your honesty and how you’re breaking my trust. I’m going downstairs for a minute of two, be here when I get back.”
I let her leave then I picked up the hairbrush and put in on the left side of the chair. I went downstairs.
I popped the top on a bottle of Stella and sat at the kitchen table, thinking about what would come next if she wouldn’t tell the truth and steeling myself to do it. The spankings she’d gotten had been hand spankings, sure they were hard and they’d hurt her but they were nothing compared to the havoc the hairbrush would cause. She was flaming red now. After the hairbrush she’d have blue and purple bruising. She wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for several days. I finished the beer and walked back upstairs.
Marcie was sitting on the bed, beside her were the panties she chosen.
“Marcie we’re going to do this one more time. Tell me what I want to hear from you and this will be over. I’ll stop right now.”
She looked up at me with her tear stained eyes and said, “Daddy, I can’t tell you but please don’t spank me anymore.”
“No Marcie, you do have to tell me. Now say it, get off your chest.”
She shook her head, no.
“Baby, you’re sure that’s the way you want it?”
I got no answer.
I pulled her up and walked her back to the chair. She just lay across my lap, she seemed resigned.
I picked up the hairbrush and transferred it to my right hand. She hadn’t seen it.
Hoping against hope that she’d acquiesce I asked once again for to tell me what I needed to hear from her.
When she didn’t answer I picked my target.
With one solid stroke I covered both cheeks, low, right on the painful spank spot. Marcie nearly leapt off my lap as she screamed. I placed my left hand on the small of her back, pressing her down and hit her again. Now she was wailing in agony at the top of her lungs. I hit her again, Smack, Smack, Smack, same place, three times. Then higher clear to the top of her butt then down ‘til I was at the joining of buttocks and thigh. I worked her here with four or five viscous strokes.
She was flailing her head back and forth, her hair stringy and sweat matted her cries now muted.
Finally, I spread her legs. She was beyond resisting. I laid hard strokes on each inner thigh. Marcie hung limply over my lap, broken.
The bruising I’d anticipated was there, her cheeks were a kaleidoscope of various shades of reds, blues and purples. Welts were raising low on her bottom and the insides of her thighs were aflame.
I let her lie there for ten minutes. Her legs were still splayed from the thigh spanking and she was open. I could see her pussy, clear to her sparse reddish blonde pubic hair. Her little rosebud was clenching and relaxing as Marcie tried to pull herself together, to deal with the pain.
My thoughts weren’t what they should have been. Taking in the sight of my 13 year old daughter’ most intimate of places, my immediate idea was, at least I kept that pimply faced little bastard from getting these jewels. But my second unbidden thought was disturbing. I wanted to get them myself. I felt myself start to stiffen at the idea, right against Marcie’s tummy.
I had to get that idea out of my head; it would play absolute havoc with what I was going to do next.
I let Marcie lie quietly, waiting for her to stir. She shook her head and listlessly squirmed. I stood her up beside me and asked, “Want to tell me yet.”
When she didn’t answer I said, “There are several things in the drawer of my night stand. I want you to get them out and carry them to the bed then I want you to lie down on the bed on your belly, do you understand. If you don’t obey you’re coming back to the chair.”
Finally, I got an answer, she said, “Yes Daddy.”
Slowly and painfully she limped to my night stand. When she opened the drawer I thought she’d faint. With eyes as round as saucers and a mouth agape she turned to look at me.
“Do what I told you.”
She took the vibrator, the butt plug and the lube and went to the bed. She placed them on the pillow and lay down beside them.
I just sat and stared at her for ten minutes, letting her think about my discovery.
I sat down beside her and rubbed her back for a few minutes then I said, “Now I’m going to tell you what I wanted to hear from you. Are you ready for that?”
She pulled the other pillow over, buried her face in it and began to cry.
Between her sobs I heard her say, I’m sorry Daddy; I’m so very, very sorry Daddy. Do you have to tell me what I’ve done?”
“Yeah Baby, I think I do. This could have gone another way. You could have been honest with me but you made your choice, so here goes.”
“You lied to me about your slumber party, you knew that the boys were going to be there and that they were bringing beer and wine. You did that so you could meet Ray or whatever his name is. He’s sixteen, you’re thirteen, not much difference between adults but at your age, its aeons. He’s too old for you to be seeing,” I paused, “Then asked, how am I doing so far.”
“Daddy, you don’t have to do this.”
“Oh but I do, I’m not even to the good part yet, am I?”
“The stain on your skirt is his semen. I’m going to speculate it got there because you’d given him a blow job.” “Let me ask, did you swallow the rest or did he have something to catch it in?”
“You don’t have to answer that.”
“Now, I’m gonna bet that tonight wasn’t the first time you’d sucked him but he’s never taken you in his mouth, has he?”
Again, you don’t need to answer.
“I’ll tell you why. He thinks it’s dirty, that you’re dirty down there.”
“Did you ever wonder why it’s ok for you to get a mouthful of cum giving him pleasure but just giving you a little lick is to dirty for him? I’ll tell you why, he’s a selfish little bastard. I don’t think there’s anything sexier, more arousing for both a man and woman than giving her oral sex. Did you know that the only creature in creation that has an organ whose only use and purpose is to create pleasure? That’s right, only one, it’s a human woman’s clitoris. Yet Ray ignored, no, disdained it.”
“Any thoughts so far?”
“Ok, next, your soaking panties. I’d venture that Ray would at least finger you and you had an orgasm.”
“Let me ask, of course you don’t have to answer, but was it your first?”
Marcie at last answered, “No Daddy, it wasn’t my first. I’ve given some to myself,” she said as she self-consciously glanced at the vibrator lying on the pillow.”
“Ok, Marcie, you can answer me or I can tell you, why did you buy those things that are on the pillow?”
“Oh, Daddy, I can’t tell you, I’m too ashamed and embarrassed, you’re my Daddy, I can’t talk to you about it.”
“Marcie, let me ask, have I always been there for you?”
“Look, I know it’s tough growing up without a mother. Marcie, it’s hard growing old without a wife. You know I don’t date, you’re my only girl. I would like to have had things differently, I’m only thirty-eight and I haven’t had sex in thirteen years. We, neither one of us have had anyone else but each other in all that time. If you can’t talk to me who else are you going to turn to?”
“I’m sorry Daddy.”
“Marcie, I believe you but I still need you to finish the story, will you do that?”
“Daddy, I just can’t, I’m too ashamed and embarrassed.”
“You mean I have to finish this sordid tale?”
“You don’t have to Daddy.”
“Oh, Marcie Baby I think I do. You see I do know the rest.”
“Turn over on your back for me, that’s right now, now hand me the vibrator and the lube. Good girl. Now pull your knees up toward your chest.”
“Daddy, I can’t do that, you’ll see all of me.”
“That’s right Marcie, I will. Now do it or let’s go back to the chair.”
Shyly and hesitantly Marcie lifted her legs. I helped her, pushing down on the back of her knees ‘til they rested on her small breasts. I opened her legs a little and put some lube on the vibrator. Turning it on, I played it up and down her slit, slipping just the tip into what I knew was still her virginal vagina. Then I played it over her clit. She started to shake.
She cried out, “Oh Daddy, what are you doing.”
“I’m getting you ready for this,” as I picked up the butt plug. It was slim and only about five inches long. I guess a little plug for a little girl, I greased it up but there wasn’t really way I could clinically do what I needed to do next. Taking a dollop of lube on one finger, I circled Marcie’s tight crinkly rosebud and pushed through her sphincter muscle, burying it in her. Marcie moaned. I took out my digit and replaced it with the plug, easing it into her and seating it.
“Marcie, you can put your legs down now if you want,” I said.
The rest of the story Marcie, “You bought there toys to use on yourself, to stretch yourself, to be ready when Ray took your virginity. And Marcie, I know you were planning on that happening tonight.”
“How did I do with the story Marcie?”
“Oh Daddy, you got it all right, I’m so sorry, how can I make it up to you, how can I regain your trust?”
“Marcie, it’s probably gonna take a while. I knew you’d lied to me about the sleepover but if you’d told me the truth tonight I’d respect you more. Yes, I would still have spanked you, one time to remind you not to do it again, not the severe beating you endured.”
“I won’t do anything like this ever again, I promise, cross my heart. Please believe me.”
“I believe you I said as I lifted her from the bed and gave her a big hug.”
Then I asked, “Are you ready for bed?”
‘Yes, Daddy, I’m beat.” She giggled at her little joke.
“Do you want to go potty first?”
“I need to, yes.”
I lay her across my lap, spread her legs and pulled out her plug saying, “Go ahead but when you’re done come back here.”
I planned to put the butt plug back in place and put her in the tight panties waiting on the bed then I heard Marcie. She’d left the bathroom door open. I heard her liquid gush into the commode, I could visualize her little pink pussy draining of her golden urine and I wanted her. I was anxious for her to come back.
She came back to the bed and crawled across my lap, spreading her legs. She thought I was going to reinsert the plug. Instead, I massaged her shoulders and rubbed her back. I started to talk to her.
“Baby, do you think you’re in love with Ray?”
“Not really Daddy, no, I don’t love him.”
‘Then why did you agree to let him do things to you?”
“Lying here I’m wondering the same thing. He’s older, like you said. It was kinda cool having an older boyfriend but mostly, I wanted to try things. I know I’m only thirteen but Daddy, sometimes, sometimes I just want to know how it feels with a man. Daddy, I got my first period when I was only ten, three years ago. Ever since I’ve felt an itch down below. God, I have my hands down my panties half the time. I know you don’t see me but when I’m in my bed or in the bathroom I make myself cum. Daddy, I had my first orgasm when I was eleven. And I just wanted the real thing.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“No Daddy, never.”
“I’m not going to see you disappointed about this either,” I said as I pulled her up on my chest and kissed her. Not a caste Daddy, daughter kiss but a passionate tongue dueling kiss. Marcie opened her mouth kissing me back with the same passion. I rolled her onto her side and admired her pert little breasts. Marcie was a small girl; about 5 foot aught and probably a solid 85 pounds. I’m six two and go two twenty.
Her breasts were no more than thirty two’s and a meager A cup. She didn’t usually wear a bra. She didn’t really need one. I kissed her ears, down over her neck, down her torso until I could tease her pencil eraser sized nipples. I softly sucked one while I played with the other, gently pinching and pulling on it. Marcie was starting to breathe heavily so I moved lower. I rimmed her little innie navel then ran my tongue through sparse reddish covering on her mons. She was so young that even with the attention she’d given herself her pussy lips were closed. I used the tip of my tongue to split them then used my fingers to hold them open, I wanted to look at her. She was still pink, not the red of a mature woman. Her vaginal opening was a wee thing. I slipped a finger into her, even that was tight. I was going to hurt her when I took her virginity. I could see her tight anal ring and it truly was the color of a rosebud, a dusky pink. Her little clit was hooded but I popped it out, exposing it. It was large for such a small girl. Probably over half an inch, it was darker pink than her labia and topped with a pearly tip. I wanted to taste it but that would wait for just a little while.
I lifted her hips, exposing her tight little bottom to me and rimmed her. God she got wriggly when I did that then I pushed the tip of my tongue into her. I could taste the lube but I didn’t cars. I pushed my tongue deeper, tasting her, then licking in a circular motion around her ring. Moving up, I laved her pink lips, nibbling and pulling on them. I probed her vulva then moved to her clit. It was time that she felt a real, a powerful orgasm. I closed my lips around her stem and sucked. The tip of her clit was in my mouth as I sucked, using my tongue I batted it, stimulating her, bring her higher and higher, I could feel her stomach muscles start to ripple. I slowed my ministrations and licked her slit again. As she settled down a little I went back to her clit. I did that three or four times, keeping her on the verge of a climax but not bringing her over the top. Finally, she clamped her slim thighs around my head and screamed, Oh Daddy, finish me, make me cum, oh, let me cum as she thrust her hips up forcing my mouth back over her clitoris. She tummy muscles were rippling like a washboard, she was flinging her head wildly from side to side, her beautiful hair flailing her tiny breasts, she arched her back as the orgasm washed over her. I had been circling her tight little brown eye with a finger and when she arched I pushed it into her, all the way and pumped in rhythm with the contractions of her vagina. She screamed out, oooh, oooh, oooh when I penetrated her. God she was tight. Then her love juices erupted from her, shooting out as each contraction forced out more of her fluids. Four, five times she gushed, soaking my face and the sheets.
As her climax subsided Marcie just lay there, she was spent, between the spankings, the emotional turmoil and her orgasm she could hardly move. I moved up beside her and took her in my arms. She said, “Wow, thank you Daddy,” and was out like a light.
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