Unknown

Daddy_s Little Girl

Chapter 1

The brilliant spring sunshine streamed in through the large open bay window. A soft, pleasant breeze was rustling the trees, most of them tall oaks in this part of Evanston, and their shadows danced energetically against the far wall of young June Donovan's room.

June turned over on the bed, squinting and shielding her eyes from the brightness that played over her sleep-softened twelve year old face.

Her long glossy blonde hair cascaded over the pillow, forming a soft honey-colored cushion for her head which lay prettily framed against it. Only a thin sheet protected her ripely maturing young body from that cooling breeze blowing in gentle and warm through the open window.

June stretched and yawned, her shapely young breasts dislodging the sheet with their movement. She had the body of a lush young Venus which any interested observer could have traced in detail through the clinging sheet only barely concealing the high-set, rounded breasts whose taut-tipped nipples showed so clearly through the thin cotton fabric. The sheet tapered down over a tiny, girlish waist to round hourglass hips of newly acquired proportions. Her belly was flat and smooth, and the soft little mound of her pussy swelled gently upward between full well-shaped thighs. From there her long shapely legs tapered downward to the very tips of her toes poking high under the covering sheet.

June had the sort of developing body that would have attracted attention on any street – admiring attention from the most discriminating of men, envious attention from too-old women who had not looked that good even when they were twelve. Wherever she went, eyes were always on her depravity-inciting young body, her long blonde hair and her fine-boned, pouty-lipped features. It would have been asking too much to expect people not to stare, even though June was only twelve years old. For she had that sort of body and looks that epitomized everything that was considered youthfully beautiful – and sexy. Her honey-blonde hair framed a heart-shaped young face that invariably turned heads. Her bright blue eyes were large and full of innocence, with long dark lashes. She had a tiny uptilted nose and a ripe red young mouth that beckoned even when she was frowning. Her complexion was very smooth and without blemish, slightly tanned and with twin roses in her cheeks. To say that June was a beautiful child was slightly an understatement. To say that she was proportioned altogether too sexily for a twelve year old girl was hitting the nail right on the head. She had that sort of blonde, youthful, developing allure every man dreams of.

Lazily, she yawned again and laid her golden head back down on the pillow.

According to the clock on the bureau, it was much too early to get ready for school. Closing her eyes again, she faded off dreamily into a half-dozing, half-wakeful state.

It was during this brief period that daddy came to her again.

Her eyelashes flickered slowly on her drooping eyelids. She could see her daddy very dearly now. He was holding his massive penis in one hand, lifting it up over his mature hair-covered testicles, totally naked except for the festooning of his trousers around his ankles. His eyes glowed wildly, totally un-daddy-like. Guy Donovan almost never looked like that at his daughter – at any rate not that she'd ever noticed – yet in this half-dream hallucination he was standing before her with his penis in his hand, some sort of milky droplets glistening in the small opening at its peak, his eyes shining with desire.

Just like in that biology book Ronald showed me, June thought with one part of her half-dozing mind. His penis seemed quite huge, thick and swollen with blood, and covered with a roadmap tracery of throbbing blue veins. The dozing girl's nostrils flared, and she felt her heart palpitate swiftly, a vein throbbing openly in her smooth clear temple.

Instinctively her trembling fingers moved lightly down over the heaving mounds of her shapely breasts, down over her nicely curved belly, then down… into the soft, blonde pubic triangle between her shivering legs.

A soft gurgle rose from her throat as her fingers slipped in through the smooth, moist opening of her cuntal lips and further still towards her softly in-sucking vaginal mouth. June began breathing heavily as she pushed her fingers in through the velvet smooth wetness, then pulled them out again with an enervating little gasp. Her unseeing eyes flew open for a minute and then fluttered closed again as her middle finger began to slip faster in and out of the warmly seeping slit of her pussy.

In her mind's eye, daddy became her lover. He came to her with his immense penis in his hand, spread her legs wide apart, and struggled forward with his hairy legs in order to seek entrance in the warm moist opening of what Ronald had called her "cunt." For some time now she had thought of it as that, although the biology book he'd showed her had referred to the opening between her legs as her "vagina" and this was what her mother called it as well during the nervous session when she had explained to her where babies came from.

But she had known that for so long. Yet somehow she hadn't wanted to tell her mother that she knew already – that was how secrets built up.

Ronald, her fifteen year old cousin who went to Wilmette High School, across the street from Niles Township Junior High, had told her all about where babies came from long ago. She hadn't believed it at first – how could she possibly believe that her mother would let her father do a thing like that? Put his penis inside of her mother… she couldn't believe it at first… at first it had seemed too dirty to believe…

But gradually the young pre-teen's feelings about "sex" had changed and she had come to accept it. Walking around, observing people, it occurred to her that everyone was the product of that lewd act and that therefore it couldn't really be "dirty!" Because if everybody were absolutely "clean" with respect to sex, then there wouldn't be any people in the world, would there?

And once her mind and feelings opened toward sex, and she had come to accept it as natural, then her curiosity escalated as well.

Particularly with respect to how it would feel for her, herself, once her vagina should ever have the chance to clasp a male penis within its hot sexy grasp.

And with all of this spinning through her impressionable young mind, June had come to wonder about daddy.

Daddy. Who seemed to keep her mother so blissfully happy that she was always singing about the house, when she did the dishes, or the washing, or put out the food for Brute, their handsome German shepherd, or fixed a meal for the whole family…

Brute…

Her sex-drugged mind conjured up the image of their powerful big watchdog. What a good dog Brute was. She could remember not so long ago when he was a little puppy what fun they used to have scampering about in the little park across the alley from the house. What a good, kind dog he was. And so affectionate.

Of course, Brute was very far from being a puppy now. Indeed, he had grown so fast she had quite lost track of him. Now he was powerful and adult, with a strong masculine personality emanating from his handsome canine features. No harm could ever come to the family while Brute was around. He had a guardian quality about him, forbidding to outsiders but friendly and loving for them. He stood guard like a sentinel over a museum case full of precious jewels. No harm could ever befall the Donovan family while Brute was there. He was guardianship personified.

The dozing girl's fingers moved faster and faster through the warm slippery folds of her young cunt, as a groan of exquisite joy escaped her parted lips.

But how had she started thinking of Brute? Daddy was the one she wanted to think of. He kept her turned on. Brute could only be a distraction. In the year-and-a-half since she had begun masturbating, she had thought of almost nothing but daddy, even though cousin Ronald had once tried to play with her body in a way that she had to confess afterward was pretty exciting.

Not that she had let him, of course. She had slapped his hand and indeed carried on very strictly with him. Quite angry with his forwardness – on the surface, at least – she had let him know in no uncertain terms that it was shameful and that her father would probably kill him if he ever found out, and what a disgrace it was for their families, and so on.

Yet secretly she had felt a terrible illicit excitement when Ronald tried to cup his hand over her sweater-taut breast. He certainly didn't get much for his trouble, mostly just the point of her brassiere, and a flare of anger from her.

Yet there was this undeniably deep, squirmy feeling in her loins afterwards, and her breath had come unnaturally hot in the lengthy silence that lasted all the way home. What if he had actually tried to – had actually gotten his hand under her brassiere and managed to feel her heaving young breasts, squeezing those firm, full mounds in his strong eager hands? What if his fingers had actually touched her swollen nipples? How would that have felt?

There was a sharp intake of breath from the young girl on the bed as her fingers now moved with increasing urgency within the hot wet folds of her pussy. The nipples of her breasts seemed to be tingling with heat, and the entire triangle of her loins was fluttering and full of butterflies racing around like mad. Her throbbing breasts rose and fell irregularly, alive with emotion. She saw her daddy, large as life leaning over her, moving down onto her open body, grating his dark hairy chest all over her heaving breasts and nipples, rubbing her smooth white skin with his rougher flesh, breathing hotly into her face, his enormous penis sliding forward in… in through the sensitive wet portals of her hotly energized young cunt… plunging forward … electrifying her hypersensitive little clitoris with his touch, massaging it around agonizingly in a way that made her beautiful blonde head strain backward, her mouth open and echoing sharp, urgent little cries, the muscles and veins in her neck standing out, pulsating with an as yet unquenched desire, striving for an impossibly beautiful orgasm…

And then suddenly there was something else!

Her nostrils flared wider, her breathing came more hotly until she was actually panting – as her mental vision of daddy was replaced by Brute!

Not actually having sex with her, of course. But performing with another dog as she had watched him do in the park one day last week.

It all came back to her now as her mind conjured up fresh memories in rhythm with her earnestly working fingers between her legs. They had gone into the park and there had been another sort of dog, a bitch.

Some kind of mongrel, perhaps mostly terrier. Obviously Brute and the bitch were well acquainted. June hadn't been able to tear her eyes away as Brute's shining long red penis had slid so smoothly from its furry sheath between his legs as he attempted to mount the other dog, both of them panting with their wet tongues hanging out. So effortlessly had the dog's penis slid into the bitch's vagina that there was scarcely any positioning to do at all, and then Brute had gone ahead, pummeling the other dog for all she was worth, panting like crazy as his forepaws held him hunched obscenely over her back.

June had felt her own breath coming very fast watching them, her loins warming inexplicably. She had never seen or imagined Brute as a sexual being before, and it came as something of a shock to see him engaging in such a highly-charged, passionate enterprise, although afterward she had wondered at her own surprise. Sex was after all the way of the world, and the system through which new dogs and new people were produced. To discover that her beloved Brute could engage so enthusiastically in such practice should not have taken her breath away so.

Yet it had, undeniably. She had watched right through to completion, her mouth holding helplessly slack and unable to speak the loose leash in her hand hanging limply to the ground.

And then she had noticed something else, she remembered now – Brute's beautiful brown eyes were fastened upon hers!

But why had that taken her aback so? Was there anything unnatural in that? She was his mistress, so naturally he gazed at her, even while having sex with another dog.

June groaned in her deepening dream of lust, her middle finger moving swiftly in and out of the moistly sucking passage of her cunt. She had started off thinking of her handsome daddy who kept mother so happy with his manly ways, but now she was thinking of Brute, their sleek dark German shepherd. Thinking of what he had done to that female dog in the park across from their house… his hips moving relentlessly back and forth… his soft brown eyes fastened upon her as his burning red penis disappeared into the other dog, then came out again, sleek and glistening, out to its full thick length… but all at such a furious pace that it took her breath away… and she had gulped and imagined … but no!… and then the tingling… that fierce, mindless tickle in her loins… with Brute panting away…

"Oooooooooohhh, Brute…" she found herself whispering huskily, her fingers moving in and out with increasing speed. And then it was her handsome daddy again, moving in and out between her legs, his hungry mouth clamped down on hers, kissing her soft succulent lips demandingly… his hips working in a mad rhythm… and then… then…

"Ooooohhhhhhh… AH! Honeeeeeeeey!" June twisted and turned on the bed as if in the grip of some obscene, soul-destroying torture. A wave of feeling combining aching pleasure with the sheerest agony washed through her shivering body from toenails to hair ends, momentarily convulsing her hot young flesh and making her cry out as if fighting off an invisible attacker, her hand continuing to work furiously within the burning hot confines of her churning young cunt. And then there was one long, endlessly drawn-out groan from her parched young lips, and a cascade of perspiration exposed itself on her smooth young skin, joining a post-climactic rash which had traveled swiftly up her arms and right to the base of her throat. She groaned, moaned and whined, her voice fading away little by little as she managed only slowly to loosen herself from the blinding outswell of her dream-induced orgasm.

It was some time before her eyes opened again and she found herself staring at the ceiling, her body awash with perspiration, her lovely face flushed and warm, her thighs weak and trembling. Her loins felt as if they were lying in the sunshine of a warmish summer afternoon, quiet and content with a small surfeit of remaining pleasure echoing softly through the confines of her thighs.

"Oh, gosh," she breathed huskily, gulping as the force of her orgasm brought her fully awake. She tried to remember what it was that she had been thinking of in connection with Brute, but now somehow it seemed to escape her. Something about the two dogs in the park…

That was right. She remembered now. But why had she thought of Brute while she was making love to herself? Almost always she thought only of daddy. He was so worldly and mature and handsome, with gleaming teeth in a big smile, thick curly black hair that always looked glossy and wet, broad shoulders, long legs and narrow hips, and an immense chest full of wiry black hairs. Daddy put the little boys in school to shame.

He was such a man!

But gosh if he ever found out that she thought such things about him, there would be the devil to pay!

She cupped her, rounded young breasts softly in her hands and knocked away the sheet, sitting up so that she could look at herself in the mirror over her dresser, her long blonde hair falling away in back of her.

If daddy ever saw her like this, she'd bet that he'd want her as much as she always wanted him in her dreams. Ah, but what was the use of dreaming! Was it her fault that she was so sexed up? No, if cousin Ronald hadn't started her thinking about it, she probably would never have started playing with herself and thinking about daddy. So it really wasn't her fault.

But on the other hand, what could she do about it? Was there no way to turn back the tide, turn the clock around and go back to her former innocence, when she would never have dreamed of playing with herself?

No, it was useless. But why had she been thinking of Brute?

And the way she had been thinking of him… no, it didn't bear thinking about.

She swung her long slender legs over the side of the bed, jumped up and started getting ready for school.

June had an elaborate ritual that she followed when getting ready for school, and not a small part of it was snatching glimpses of herself in the numerous mirrors that she had placed strategically about the room.

She had such perfectly shaped breasts, she thought all the girls at school were jealous of her – and she never tired of glancing at them, watching them jiggle sexily as she moved, nothing their clever uplift and voluptuous firmness, and the way her strawberry-hued nipples would harden and lift in the merest breeze.

Then there were her shapely hourglass hips beneath an almost non-existent waist with the flattest of tummies, and the long, smooth legs which she kept hairless by sneaking off with mommy's little razor every so often. She also had a bit of golden fleece in her armpits, but this was easily taken care of, too. All her hair was golden and very fine. It didn't grow fast enough to warrant shaving or cutting very often, and probably she needn't have bothered, Still, she liked to look and feel nice and clean.

The twelve year old vamp also glanced at her curly blonde pubic hair in the mirrors as she paraded around the bedroom getting organized. She was often put out because it seemed to her the hair in her golden triangle was altogether too sparse. Her mother's, for example, was very thick and curly – a bright russet color. She knew that was what the hair on a girl's pussy was supposed to be like. Somehow it didn't seem normal for hers to be so wispy, indeed almost bare, when she was so perfect in every respect.

Well, anyway, that probably wouldn't be so important for her until she was older and ready to marry. And even then perhaps she would find a boy who would be tolerant of this imperfection.

Or would she ever marry! The thought of actually having a baby sent shivers down her spine. She didn't want to leave daddy; she would always love him no matter what. If only he could see that and make up his mind that they should stay together for ever and ever.

But it was useless; he scarcely noticed her. Even the other evening, when she had tried to sit on his lap and snuggle up to him when mother was occupied in the kitchen, he had shoved her angrily off his lap before she even had a chance to ascertain the quality of his sex equipment. It didn't seem fair somehow; she so adored him, and he scarcely noticed her.

Well, that was life. June glanced at the clock. It was time to put a little speed on if she was going to make school in time for her first class.

Chapter 2

If June only knew. For, at this very moment, Guy Donovan was indeed thinking of his young daughter very affectionately with love in his heart – as his long thick cock slid in and out of his red-haired wife's hotly grasping vagina.

"Guy! Oh Guy!" Dora Donovan gasped, working her hips desperately in order to milk his enormous blood-bloated rod of flesh of every last thrill and every last drop of scalding hot sperm. For even though Dora had been on the pill for years, she still delighted and felt an exquisite thrill when she felt that lust-heated semen squirting up inside of her. And now she wanted it more than ever – because there was a terrible fear in her chest that she was losing her husband.

It was nothing that she could put her finger on exactly; it was just that, for the last several months, he had been increasingly preoccupied and distracted when they were making love. As if he were thinking of someone else. They had always made love with the lights on, so that they could see each other's bodies moving, his shining penis slicking in and out through the caressingly passion-drenched folds of her yearning, burning cunt, in the mirrors that surrounded them on the walls at all sides. That was a part of their excitement, watching themselves fuck each other like this, in whatever position it was they were doing in – Viking ship, sixty-nine, or whatever. When she sucked on Guy's magnificent cock, she also liked to glance into one of the mirrors to watch herself. Often he would be probing his fingers into the warm, moist slit of her pussy while she sucked so lovingly on the rigid warmth of his desire-thickened penis. Gently, he would stroke the hot tingling lips of her vagina, and this would drive her wild, until she could hardly feel his cum come squirting out to flood deliciously against the back of her throat. Then too, she liked to watch when he licked and nibbled at the fiercely sensitive outskirts of her burning cunt, sliding his tongue snakelike deeply into her clasping vagina, in order to draw ecstatic little gasps from her hoarsely struggling throat. All this mirror-watching was a fiercely erotic part of their love-making and had lent tremendously to their mutual excitement all through the years. They could watch themselves, no matter what their position was or what they were doing.

But no more.

For recently, Guy had taken to preferring making love in the dark, and Dora knew what this meant. The fact that her husband now yearned for darkness was a sure sign to her that he probably wanted to imagine he was making love to someone else.

Not that there was any other indication of his straying interest.

Occasionally she thought she had caught a word through his passionate gasps -perhaps a part of a girl's name – but it was impossible to link those disjointed sounds with any illicit infatuation on Guy's part. It was all too unclear and imprecise.

Pushing these tormenting thoughts from her mind, the lewdly skewered wife worked her hips around and groaned, feeling the enormity of her husband's penis sliding so achingly in and out of her burning vagina.

It was like being dredged with an earth-mover when Guy was inside of her, his cock was so huge and dominating. It had always been like this, and that was part of the reason she had loved him and been so passionately devoted to him all of her life. Even when he was only seventeen, his penis had seemed so huge to her, with all those rough, vagina-rippling little ridges, that it had immediately dominated her every thought and consideration for the future.

Dora had never regretted her decision to devote herself wholely to making Guy Donovan happy. He had proved to be a husband and lover without equal, and her loins still ached from time to time, at the most peculiar of moments, when she thought of her handsome, dynamic and cunt-pleasingly hung husband. She might just be lingering over the kitchen sink washing dishes and daydreaming aimlessly, and her mouth would water and her loins begin to chum thinking of the wonderful fucking he had given her that morning or the night before. To live as his slave forever was surely the highest ambition she could have.

And then this. This terrible suspicion that he was closing his eyes and thinking of someone else as he fucked her, or when she sucked on his cock, was just too much to bear.

Why did this nagging suspicion persist so strongly, though? What other substantiation for it was there, besides her own intuitive feminine suspicion?

Guy's performance was as adequate as ever, even though he closed his eyes more and occasionally mumbled a name that she scarcely caught. Or was it a name?

Perhaps it was merely an obscenity breaking from his lips from time to time in appreciation of the way her loins were moving beneath him and around him.

Her suspicions were spoiling her enjoyment of sex. Several times recently, she had found herself straining more desperately than was normal for her orgasm and, indeed, for the last month, had missed several of them. She was becoming increasingly frustrated, at an age when any normal woman is more hypersexed than ever. And, if she didn't make it this morning, she didn't know what she was going to do.

Trying to elaborate her excitement, the troubled housewife thought back to the first time she and Guy had ever made love. She had been just fourteen then and obsessed with curiosity about sex, despite her puritan upbringing. Guy had been just seventeen but already known as a slick operator about school. Rumor was that he had bedded almost the entire female half of the junior class with the masterful domination of his sexual technique, and that his penis was of appreciable size and quality.

Naturally, talk like this had only served to titillate her, when she should have been afraid and cautious about him. So that, when the older student asked her for a date, she had responded affirmatively with almost bubbling eagerness, her heart racing frantically in her fulsome young chest.

True to his reputation of being "fast," he slid his hand inside her brassiere with almost their first drawn-out passionate kiss. While his tongue fucked her gasping hot mouth, his fingers were suddenly grasping her nakedly stiffening nipple and the firm but resilient flesh of her tender young breast. Not wanting to give up his masterful, loin- drenching kiss, she didn't struggle overly to get rid of his gently squeezing hand. And then when he started pinching her throbbing nipple between thumb and forefinger, she became too aroused to do anything at all about this fiercely erotic fondling. Finally, he unfastened her brassiere and inclined his head, taking one of her bursting hot nipples into his mouth and much of her surrounding sensitive breast tissue as well, sucking hungrily on the virginal mounds rising and falling with increasing passion beneath his lips. The tickling of his tongue as it batted her nipple back and forth brought it up quickly to a loin- tingling hardness, and shivering little thrills seemed to pass in waves up the young girl's thighs, searing through her loins and belly, finally pouring like molten lava into the lust-infused roundness of her sensitive young breasts. So preoccupied did she become that she scarcely noticed it when one of his hands slipped up under her skirt as well, madly caressing her smooth cream-white thighs.

"No-oh, Guy, no!" she protested, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back in time.

But his hands had kept stroking her relentlessly, roving the full length of her aroused teenage body, over her crazily quivering stomach and on down to the nylon covered softness of her throbbing pubic triangle. Then he began stroking her there, lewdly insinuating his middle finger up under the tight elastic legband of her white nylon panties and into the moist virginal split of her pussy. This started an aching, yearning sensation that was totally unlike any other feeling the young redhead had ever known before in her young life. In reality, she knew of nothing to compare it with. Her mother had always severely forbidden masturbation and filled her pretty young head with terrible stories of what might happen if she practiced it – a slew of pimples on her face, a glint in her eyes that would be readily detectable by the most casual observer, perhaps even madness.

Dora struggled and protested fairly strongly against her ardent date's searching fingers, though with increasingly weaker resolve, as she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his maddening caresses.

"No, no Guy, not now. Oh please don't," she gasped excitedly into his ear.

Which only served to spur him on! Apparently paying no attention to her pleas, suddenly he was working with the crotch of his Levi's, and then there was a metallic rasp as he drew his zipper down. Then, with equal suddenness, there was a warm blunt pressure against the top of her thigh. She gasped. Dora had never seen or felt a man's penis before, and the muscles of her body contracted violently as she now felt its soft muscular heat against the smooth naked flesh of her upper leg.

She was about to pull away, despite her curiosity, but then, suddenly, his fingers were probing again between her legs, moving deeper under her panties and wetly upward through the passion-slick confines of her churning vagina.

This sent a shock of pleasure rippling through her loins which had no counterpart in living memory. The electric quality of that feeling fairly froze the young virgin to the car seat. She could not move for the moment as ecstatic pleasure raced around inside her inexperienced twelve year old body.