Chapter Text
My mom started taking off-hour shifts when I was seven. It was made possible by my stepfather's ready availability to watch me in the evenings. She asked me frequently what I thought about him, whether I liked spending time with him. I was always glowing. I don't think she ever suspected our secrets.
One Wednesday, my mom wasn't going to get back til after my bedtime. It was just my stepdad and me all evening. This was still very early on in our time together. It would be our third encounter. I had played with him on the two previous early Saturdays, but it hadn't gone past touching yet. This was the first afternoon it did.
From the time I came home from school, he made it clear that he was interested in me. He was much more physical than usual, picking me up, tickling, singing songs and making faces, all around high energy fun. We put on video games and talked about doing some elaborate cooking for dinner. For a second grader, that meant melting some cheese over a sandwich in the oven, but we put on the radio and I was totally into the adventure of raiding the fridge and making a stacked-up concoction. He twirled me around adorably in my school uniform jumper as we sang along.
We ate a tasty dinner in front of the TV. Pretty soon, the energy rush abated and we caught our breath. Then, gradually, I started feeling a different vibe from my stepdad. It felt like the past couple Saturdays. We were in the same position on the couch we had been last time. Sure enough, as we finished eating and were casually flipping around the channels, he maneuvered his cuddle, putting his arm around my chest. I was naive about a lot, but I knew that he had gone straight for my boobs. Or, if I wasn't completely flat, where they would be.
Without saying much, he worked his hand inside my jumper, feeling me over the thin layer of my uniform shirt. I wasn't wearing any kind of undershirt or training bra. He flicked his fingertips over my nipples. I'm not sure whether I found that arousing, but they protruded and felt a little more swollen each time he passed over them.
I was excited though frightened that he was touching me like he was. I knew this was a textbook example of bad touch as defined by the police officer that visited class once. Before, when he'd touched me in the early mornings in my pajamas, I could explain it to myself as just a sort of advanced cuddling. Having my school uniform on added a sense that there were probably some rules being broken. But I also knew he was one of the special people with veto power over these kinds of things. He could decide if a bad touch is really bad or just playing around. Basically, I was sure anyone would agree, if it's your daddy, there's probably an exception to the rule.
In the same casual tone like he was telling me something he did at work, he started giving me his story about the pain that his erection was causing him, and how I could help release his built-up love. He indicated his tented pants, but didn't expose himself. While he spoke, I stared down at the large bulge, anxious and quiet. I wasn't completely following, but I had a feeling he was about to ask me to do one of the things we had only talked about before, something to do with my mouth.
But he was sensitive to my tension. He held me and slowed the movement of his touch. He stroked my hair, complimenting it; praised my honor roll status in school, my help with chores around the house, my good behavior around my mother and him. And he wrapped up with a bargain - if I would help him out with his pain for ten minutes, and maybe I used my mouth to make it go quicker, afterwards we'd make some dessert, and play on the computer til bedtime. Like the wellbehaved child I aspired to be, I agreed to daddy's schedule. When he put it the way he did, it really didn't seem wrong or unusual for a parent to ask a child to help with a pain.
He excused himself to the bathroom, and told me to meet him upstairs in his bedroom in two minutes, ready to help him. I did as he asked, climbed nervously up the stairs a few seconds behind him, and struggled up on my mom and stepdad's tall bed. I wasn't sure how to get ready. I listened to the water running in the bathroom. Random like kids are, I checked out their pillows, buried my nose in their soft coolness and sniffed deeply. One pair was clearly my mom's sweet soap and perfume, the other stank of my stepdad's masculine body odor and an alcoholbased cologne. I leaned back into my mom's soothing pillows. I almost fell into a nap when I was shocked back to attention.
He opened the door, crossing over from the bathroom tile to the carpet wearing only his boxers, bulge on display. I did think he was very handsome. He was tall and long-limbed, in good shape under his clothes. Not bulging with muscle, but no flab, and a solid stomach. He said he was almost ready to play. He fiddled with putting his ring on the bedside table. I could tell he was also turning on the camera that was already there, though he was quick and maybe hiding it from me. He plopped playfully on top of the covers next to me and grinned, asking me if I was ready.
I was still wearing my school dress. He sat me up, and unzipped my back. He pushed the upper folds down and I shimmied out. That left me giggling in my panties and uniform shirt. The shirt got quickly unbuttoned, wiggled out of, and unceremoniously dumped alongside the jumper. We sat up side by side in bed like that for a minute, little in panties and big in boxers. I caught him staring at my chest. He reached over and took one of my nipples in his fingers, rolling it around, then leaned in and kissed the other. He sucked and pulled at it with his mouth, then gently bit it, making me yelp and laugh.
He laughed too, but brought my attention back to himself, reminding me that his penis was getting really sore again. He slipped it out of the fly and exposed his erection to me, hands on his hips, letting it pulse and bob in the open air, presented to me. He fluffed the pillows up behind him to sit at a comfortable angle, his cock protruding out of his lap as he spread his legs. He moved me to get between his knees and face him.
I sat my pink panty-clad butt back on my heels. I felt so important and lucky that my daddy had picked me to share these secrets with. I reached out and inspected his cock with my fingers from base to tip, truly engrossed, making embarrassing, earnest investigative noises. (He showed me the video, by the way, if you're wondering how I remember this much detail. I'd make him fast forward over this part.) His penis was warm, hard and squishy at the same time. I jerked it, squeezing and rolling the skin, uncertainly, trying like he showed me before. I looked up at him for approval.
In response he started thrusting his hips gently at me. It was the move I'd later come to realize was his signature sign of sexual frustration, that whatever I was doing wasn't enough to get him off. Even then, I think I understood. He had said he wanted me to use my mouth. What did that mean? I let his penis go, embarrassed that I was doing it wrong, paralyzed without a signal from daddy what to do next.
He smiled and laughed a little. He reassured me that he liked when I touched him. But, if I could just try to fit as much of him as I could inside my mouth, it would feel really, really good. Then, all of the "love" that had built up inside him would release, and if I kept my mouth on it, I could swallow it. I was nervous, especially about that last part. But it was a task that daddy had set for me. I was going to achieve it, and do it right.
I dipped apprehensively towards the mushroom head. Each time I hesitated, I looked up at him, as if for a reprieve. He was stony-faced, and would only nod encouragement. Finally, I stuck my tongue out, and dove in for a quick lick on the side of the head. It didn't taste like much of anything, just skin, like I'd licked my arm. I stayed down there and gave the head a few more sweet and playful licks.
That was well and good, daddy told me, and I could play like that, and that was fun. But he was actually getting in a lot of pain. So if we were going to finish up, I was supposed to open up my mouth wide like a big girl, and keep my teeth back, and then help to suck the love out.
Obediently, I opened up, and started lowering my head down. I put the tip of his penis in my mouth. And froze. Again, it just felt like putting my mouth on skin. I was rather clueless and just stayed put. He put his hand at the base of his cock, and told me to start sucking. Just as I obeyed, he jerked his cock upwards. He moaned deeply, and I got my first mouth-coating dose of salty, mucusy precum. I winced and pulled back, drawing a string of thick drool back to my mouth. I licked my lips at the bitter new flavor that I would come to know as daddy's.
I said it was weird, and started laughing, nervously, wiping my chin. I told him I wasn't sure. He extolled me to just give it another try. Although I was finding oral sex sort of yucky to start, there was an implicit understanding that I needed to satisfy him before we could leave the bed. And this is how he wanted me to do it. He suggested that I try kissing it. So I moved my face towards his cock again, and started kissing it all over in a silly way, making smacking noises. He let me do that for a minute. Then he told me that we could play around like that and it would take all night, but if I really wanted to help him, I had to put him in my mouth and try to go deep like a big girl.
I was a little old even then for that big girl business, but I knew he said some weird things whenever he had his so-called pain or needed to release his love. And I wasn't one to correct daddy. So I opened my lips, sunk my head down, and put my mouth over his penis head. I immediately looked up for approval. He was so intent on me, and looked so pleased. So I tried to push in more, and with effort the ridge of his head eked past my lips.
I held position there, feeling his penis fill up my mouth for the first time. It was a little hard to breathe. He gushed about how good it felt; inwardly I beamed. My tongue hesitantly explored and pressed into his piss slit. I tasted that flavor again, salty, soapy, and I worried that it was gross but I was still committed to trying to like it. He asked me, did I think I could go a little deeper? I did try, opening my jaw wider than the dentist, reaching out with my lips to get that little bit more. But I was overenthusiastic and I choked badly. He moaned as I dramatically gagged and retched, and I pulled back, sputtering and coughing until I caught my breath. I cowered from his raging purple, slobber-shiny penis, wary, almost at the point of calling things off.
He brought his hand to the side of my head, and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. I love you so much, sweetie, he said to me. A rare declaration. I melted a little. He said that my lips on his penis made him feel so good. He wanted me to feel good too, the same way, so we'd try something.
He suddenly spun us around so I was the one propped up on the pillows. I was still laughing at the unexpectedness as he wiggled my panties down my little butt, threw them aside, then got me on my back and held my knees apart. He brought his face close to my immature pussy. He simply stared at it for a while. I was half self-conscious exposing my parts this immodestly, half thrilled at the attention.
And then he dove his face into me. I felt the scratchy edges of his stubble all around my privates. He gave me a big lick, from the bottom of my vulva up, tickling and surprising me. His tongue was bigger than my whole pussy. Then he was delicate, kissing and gently sucking my lips; but then he literally put it all inside his mouth, my whole vulva, and stuck the tip of his tongue inside my hole - a wiggly, fleshy invasion. I was too jumpy and giggly and not at all prepared for that. I liked the attention, a lot, but it just tickled so much and I couldn't sit still. It was my first experience having a tongue on my pussy, which sounds serious in retrospect but at the time it felt like the silliest part of the game so far.
He pulled his face back, grinningly, halfheartedly telling me to calm down, and stood up on his knees next to me. He stroked his cock slowly above my face, my legs still thoughtlessly spread wide open. I was still laughing from daddy's mouth on my puss. He put two fingers on my vulva, and rubbed my puffy lips in a circular motion. I'm not sure I strongly felt sexual pleasure in those early play sessions, but it felt good to allow him to do what he wanted with me to feel good. The smell of my mom's sweet pillow mixed with the sweat from his undercarriage as he jerked off above me.
Then he got more serious. His pace quickened. He pointed himself toward my mouth. He asked me if I was ready for cum. I had a vague feeling what he meant, and it terrified me. He took his hand off my pussy and stroked my forehead, as if to calm me, though my pulse was racing. He said I should open my mouth wide. I did, but I also timidly receded into the pillow. He scooted forward to cover the distance. The tip came to my lips, slipped inside, and he continued jerking himself. Gradually he pushed forward more, and I had no more room to back up. Soon most of, then the whole head was crammed inside my mouth again.
I knew he was going to shoot his stuff imminently. We had only had a couple of sessions but I'd picked up on that much. My head shook as his strokes were more vigorous. His stomach rippled and he breathed heavily. He told me to watch my teeth, and I struggled to comply under his movements. Then he told me he was going to put all of his love into my mouth. The more I could swallow, he said, the more of his love I would feel inside of me.
I felt his free hand stroke my hair, and come to rest on the top back of my head. Rapidly his whole body tensed up. He pushed in a little further, and then the first spurt squirted hotly in my mouth. It was watery but viscous, like a shot of strange soapy seawater. Before I had time to think much about it, another spurt, but bigger, filled up all the space in my mouth around his head. And another spurt. Seawater drowning felt like a possibility. My instinct was to pull away, but his hand had snuck around and was there to keep my head still. He urged me to swallow it, and with little alternative I did desperately gulp it down, praying that he would be done soon. In spite of my efforts it was too much. I squeaked and complained, and with nowhere else for it to go, daddy's gooey love drooled out the corners of my mouth. Then he was done squirting, and his whole body relaxed.
He let me free, sputtering and coughing. My mouth and throat were coated with his thick residue. I started crying a little. He held me tenderly, and told me how happy I had made him. I nestled nakedly into his arms in the big bed, and only then allowed myself to start sobbing heavily. It made me even sadder because he thought I was crying because he'd hurt me. I couldn't find words to express to him how that wasn't it at all. Really I was sad I wasn't able to do all the grown-up things just the way he had wanted them. I was despondent that I had messed everything up, and we'd never get to play those games or feel that closeness again.
But when I got the deep sobs out of my system, my face hiding buried in his arms, I felt better. Then I realized that he was somehow on the defensive, trying to make me smile with an offer of some sundaes for dessert. I was almost confused that he wasn't more angry or disappointed with me for letting him down. But sundaes would be fine with me. I stopped sniffling and went to my room and put on play clothes. A while later we were back on the couch together with bowls of ice cream. It was almost as though not much had happened. Then I licked my lips and caught the taste of daddy's male flavor again, his salty bitterness dried and sticky on my chin. I made my mind up that it didn't taste great, but I was going to be ok with tasting it again if I had to.