Being Their Baby (17 page)

This was taking him back to his high school days when he’d try to do this with Liz or one of his more fleeting girlfriends while watching movies and snuggled together on a couch, trying to look innocent if anyone were to walk in and catch them together.

“You’re a naughty little girl,” he whispered into her ear. His brain wasn’t even working, he distantly discovered. He was becoming possessed by his cock. “Sneaking into Daddy’s bed… And now these panties are
soaked
.”

He couldn’t see her blush, but her thighs closed a little bit upon his words. She’d gotten nervous, but she hadn’t complained yet, hadn’t told him “no.” He boldly found the hem of her panties and let his hand travel under the cloth.

She had a nice, soft layer of downy hair there, which was also wet as he delved his fingers into her folds to find her clit again. After work that day, he decided, he was going to give her a bath and shave her sex bald. He loved doing that; he loved the act, the trust, the intimacy, and how smooth a pussy was afterwards.

As soon as he touched her little clit with his bare fingers, her hips bucked a little and a moan escaped her lips. She must have been wound pretty tight. “Shh,” he calmed, slowing his movements. “Daddy’s gotcha, baby. Relax.” He kissed her neck again and then slid his fingers down to her hot entrance. She was slick, in heat. “Can Daddy pull these wet panties off?”

She started to shake when he said that. “Yeah,” she mewed anyway.

He reached over and turned the light on by his head, and then pulled down the covers covering Sophie. She wrapped herself into a tight ball; partially, he was sure, from the cold in the room, and partially because of her nerves, which were apparently quaking.

He rolled her onto her back and then said, “Arms up. Let’s get these jammies off.”

She bit her lip, hesitating.

He leaned forward and stroked his palm across her forehead. “You don’t have to play adult games with Daddy if you don’t want to. I’ll carry you up to bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep in my own bed, though,” she pouted.

He gave her a stern, warning look. She pursed her pink little lips together. “You told me that if I want something, I should tell you. Well, I don’t want to sleep in my room; I want to sleep with
you
, Daddy.” She frowned. “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh,” he sighed, thinking that was probably the cutest thing any of his littles had ever said. And she wasn’t playing with him. She’d actually had a nightmare and had come in for comfort. “Sweetheart…” He laid next to her. “You know there’s nothing to be afraid of? Right?” He added, chuckling, “And
that’s why
little girls don’t get to watch scary movies.”

“It wasn’t because of the scary movie,” she sulked. She thought for a second and then added, “Well, it wasn’t from the scary movie
at first
…” She flushed. “Will it hurt?” she abruptly asked.

He frowned. “Will
what
hurt, baby?”

“You know…” she replied nervously, moving her eyes away and across the room.

“Oh.” He thought about this. He hadn’t taken a virgin since Liz, an age ago. He had spent so much time fingering her before that, though, that he couldn’t recall her being in too much pain. That being said, he was nervous back then and he hadn’t even grown into the size he was now. The situation was different. This girl was fourteen years younger than he, and the first girl he’d had that was young enough to actually be his biological daughter. He was a big, strong football player who had spent his entire lifetime getting tackled by men as large as trucks. She was a petite, naive little girl who, if she were only a few weeks younger, he could go to jail for doing even as much as he had done with her already.

In short, he was probably going to hurt her. In fact, if she indeed still had a hymen, it was probably going to hurt
a lot
.

Now he had to consider whether or not to lie to her, and then he considered the act itself. He wanted to. Fuck Josh’s call of “shotgun,” which for some reason wasn’t entirely without meaning for him; Sophie was going to let Charlie have her virginity right now if he wanted it.

The problem was that he hadn’t much experience with gentle sex. He thought that he might be able to just part those pretty little thighs, say it wouldn’t hurt, bust her cherry, and cum long, hard, and deep into her body, and ignore the look of pain that would be on her face. He could keep her pinned to the mattress, make her take his whole length, not let her squirm away or call it quits until she was full of his seed… But he didn’t want to. As rough as he was in bed, he didn’t want to expose an innocent to that.

His cock twitched anxiously again. “You’re on protection, right? Like the pill?” he asked, still trying to reason a solution in his head, to make a game plan that would satisfy him and keep her away from tears.

He watched as she shook her head. He had no condoms—Liz and Lacey had both been on “the shot” since there was a shot to get onto.

His cock ached for release nonetheless. He put an arm on her other side to lean over her and kiss her on the lips. Her kiss was a little clumsy, even after dating Liz for a couple of weeks, but it was warm, and wet, and inviting. He got lost in it for a while, pressing his tongue into her mouth, dominating that connection.

When the kiss stopped, he found that she was panting underneath him. “I know you want to, baby girl, and I am honored… but not tonight. Tomorrow, we’re gonna ask Josh to put you on some birth control. You’re our treasure, Sophie, and we’re not going to let anything happen to you. I don’t want you worrying about your first time. I promise that you’ll enjoy it. You
deserve
to enjoy it.”

She chewed her bottom lip, but nodded, looking a little more bouncy already. She lifted her head to kiss him, and then he languidly returned the sentiment. She pulled herself up by digging her feet into the mattress and curling upwards until her groin was boldly meeting his own.

He broke the kiss, and her ass found the mattress below her again. He rasped, “Arms up.”

Again, she hesitated, but then put her arms over her head. He peeled the tight-fitting pajama top over her stomach, and then up over her petite, yet mouthwatering, little breasts. Her cup size was small, especially compared to Liz’s. Sophie probably didn’t even need to wear a bra—but her nipples were perfect. Pink, small, light areoles, and perfectly round. He licked one as he pulled her shirt the rest of the way off. The hard little bud tickled across the top of his tongue.

He closed his arms around her, then brought his lips back to hers as he tweaked her little nipple and listened to her squeak against his lips.

He was lust-drunk, and he knew it, but he grabbed her legs and reached for her pajama bottoms anyway, pulling them away with her underwear, revealing a shivering virgin’s unprotected, beautiful pussy and her red, splotchy bottom. The scent of her sex made him growl in the depths of his throat.

She reached behind her to cover the entrance of her vagina and bottom with her hands, looking up at him with startled eyes. He grinned and kissed her knee and her thigh, and then she pushed him back. “No, Daddy.” Her face was red with horror, clenching her thighs together. “Don’t kiss me there.”

“Have you had anyone kiss you there before?” he asked seductively, dropping her legs back down to the mattress, parting them, and placing himself between her splayed thighs. He ran his fingers up her wetness.

“No,” she replied. “It’s gross.” She looked very certain about that, which was very funny to see on a bisexual. Liz really should have played with her more.

“It’s gross?” he asked her, raising his eyebrows with amusement his thumb rubbed circled over her well-lubed little clit. “Nothing on my baby girl is gross.” He brought his fingers to his lips and tasted them. His eyes hooded; it was salty and
delicious
.

She turned her head as if unable to watch.

“You know I’m going to become very intimate with every little part of my baby,” he warned her, “because that’s what good daddies do.”

She still kept her head turned. He kissed her breasts again and let the tip of his fingers venture into her entrance.

She gasped, flailing.

He looked up. “Did Mommy play with this little cunny at all?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” she said feebly, “but
Mommy’s
got nails. She doesn’t go…
inside
.”

“Ah!” Well, that made sense. He let his finger hook inside her, where he finally met the firm little hymen meeting him with resistance. He bent back and spread her legs, coaxing her to relax all the while. “It’s okay, sweetie,” he was saying, “let’s just see what we’ve got here. You know Daddy’s not going to hurt you.”

What he had her present to him was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. He scooted her more toward the light. He’d never really seen a hymen up close before, and this one was glistening, reminding him of a frail little target.

He couldn’t help it. He pressed his tongue towards it, ignoring that she clamped her legs on each side of his head for his efforts and he had to pry them back apart. He tickled the little thing, exploring it, and then put her legs down while he reached into his pants and fisted himself.

He tongued her clit, sucking at her juices as she moaned and pouted in complaint for his blatant disregard to her wishes. Eventually he moved up to her breasts. He pressed his cock against her clit.

It took a good few moments for her to realize that it wasn’t his thumb any longer making her swoon with pleasure. “Daddy!” she gasped as soon as she realized it was his cockhead. “You said—”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised. “Just the tip. I won’t deflower you.” He felt like a horrible example to age-play daddies in general to say things like that, but he meant it. His cock begged for action, and her own cunny wasn’t giving him too much protest because she relaxed and let him grind his hardness against her as much as he could. Eventually he stroked it up her clit, groaning to himself. He was so close.

“Daddy… Daddy…”

He pressed the tip at her entrance, and then flicked it back out and pressed it up against her clit, and then again…

“Daddy!” She was coming, and violently, clasping her thighs around him hard. He ground hard against her, flicking, teasing, and then he finally groaned as stream after stream of his white seed spilled over her mound and all the way to the bottom of her delightful little breasts.

It seemed like it just kept coming out of him. He closed his eyes, feeling more relieved and relaxed with each spurt. He groaned again when he was done and tucked himself easily back into his pants. When he opened his eyes, he saw poor Sophie looking over the white semen all over the front of her, looking overwhelmed as to what to do with herself.

It felt like guilt had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer.

He shouldn’t have done
any
of this! How and when and where did he lose control with himself? Poor little thing! She had too rough of a day to have been used like this, like a goddamn beat-rag. “Stay perfectly still,” he told her, pushing himself off the bed and dashing into the bathroom. He quickly came back with a warm, wet washcloth and began to sponge off her skin.

She was very quiet. She didn’t speak to him as he cleaned her off, went back to the bathroom, grabbed a fresh washcloth, and cleaned more, wiping down her skin twice. “Is there always that much?” she asked, breaking the silence as she craned her neck down. “It seems like a lot,” she quickly added. “More than in the pornos I’ve seen.”

“No,” he replied, frustrated with himself still. Even
he
was embarrassed. “There’s not always that much. That was irregular.” He paused and furrowed his brow. “When did you get to see porn?”

“There are many people in my apartment building where that’s all they watch—literally,” she assured him, shaking her head as if she was divulging a tough truth.

Right. Sophie grew up in hell; she didn’t have a normal childhood, or a normal life. And there he was, a privileged man from a privileged family who was taking advantage of a teenager’s nightmares and her need to just feel loved and treasured and cuddled. He put his hand over his eyes, thinking that he was the scum of the planet and sure that there was a special place in hell for people like him.

“Did… I do something wrong?” she asked, and swallowed.

He put down his hand. “No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured. “Just you can’t come down to sleep with Daddy anymore, okay? If you can’t sleep, just close your eyes and count sheep or something.” He fished her clothes from where he had thrown them on the floor and put them on the bed. “Here, put those back on and I’ll tuck you back into your bed. Hold on.”

He walked back into the bathroom and threw the washcloths into the hamper, then splashed some water on his face. He needed to take it slow—
glacier
slow. She was delicate, and she needed a lot of healing, a lot of love, and she definitely didn’t need a guy sweating over her. Not on a day like today.

Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the bedroom, ready to admit that he had done wrong by her and that he’d take things slower so that she’d understand that he was somebody who she could come to without thinking that she needed to give him any sexual favors.

Unfortunately, when he padded back into his bedroom, Sophie wasn’t there.

He winced with confusion, then slowly walked out of his bedroom, looking left and right all the way up to Sophie’s room, half-expecting her to pop playfully out of somewhere.

He entered Sophie’s bedroom and found it dark. She was wrapped up in the covers, curled into a ball, lying as stiff as a board. “Sophie…” His voice sounded especially loud in the quiet little room that had absolutely no personal touches whatsoever. “Can I talk to you about… well, what just happened?”

“I’m tired,” she replied flatly.

Well, it was a quarter till four in the morning. “Over breakfast we’ll talk, okay?” he said gently.

“Kay.” Her tone, again, held no inflection. It sat with him wrong.

“Love you, baby,” he told her, hoping she realized that. She surely didn’t hear it enough in her life, although it was impossible to see how.