Patti read stories online about family incest, about a Daddy's desires for his baby girl. He wrote about his baby "Patti".
Could it be her Daddy? Writing stories about her? What if he wanted her that way? What if he fantasized about her? What if his cock was really 9 ½ inches long and fat? Her insides trembled! Her sex ached, her hand moved quickly to her mound. What if?
She closed her eyes. In the privacy of her bed room, Patti could really pretend it was her Daddy. If he only knew! Knew how many times she had noted the bulge in his shorts while they played basketball in the gym. Noticed how many times she backed into him with more than a dribbling move to the basket in mind. God how she had wanted him to grab her hips, to pull her ass to him, feel him, feel his rigid cock pressed between them.
Her throat was dry. Her fingers played over her mound, slipping into her cleft. She could feel her clit. Doors closed, everyone is asleep. "Oh God," she muttered out loud. Yes, she would masturbate! She would please herself! Again! Daddy would do it for her. She would pretend Daddy was licking her wet slit, sucking her hard, engorged clit into his mouth. Her eyes closed tightly. Quickly, she pulled her panties down below her knees. Spreading her legs wide, soles of her feet touching, her hand moved slowly to her mound. Her middle finger moved cautiously, sensuously to her slit, her dainty fingertip slipping softly between her engorged lips. They were slick, her juices seeping from her hole. She spread her juices across her clit. Her finger mashed the sensitive hood flat to her mound. God it felt good. Her hips jumped upwards. "Daddy," she whispered. She growled deep in her throat. "Yes Daddy," she said as she moved her fingers back and forth over the clit, mashing it firmly. Two fingers rubbed back and forth, spreading her body's juices, mashing her clit. Her mind pictured her Daddy, remembering his stories, remembering how he loved to suckle his daughter's clit, to please his baby. Her Daddy would please her too. She groaned as the feelings in her sex increased, moved her body toward orgasm. Several minutes later, warmth spread over her body, her breath quickened. Her fingers probed her wet hole, driving deep into her body. Pumping them in and out, her other hand flicked her clit back and forth faster, harder. Her body convulsed, her hips lurched upwards as her body ripped through her orgasm. "Daddy!" she blurted out loud. "Daddy!" she whispered between gasps for air. "I love you Daddy," she moaned softly, drifting to sleep.
Her mind wandered. She had always done everything for Daddy. He was a stud athlete! He was very tall, very athletically gifted. He was a college scholarship athlete. She attended the same high school as he had growing up. His name was on all the school record boards. She constantly competed with him! She was better! She had to be!
And she had God given size, speed, strength, and talent. She was blessed! She even had the fire in her belly that top athletes need to be winners. She and her Daddy were close! He coached her early sports teams, worked constantly with her to improve skills, speed, agility, footwork, eye coordination, and more. She loved her time with him. Her eyes closed, she could smell him, the closeness, the sweat, the feel of his hugs, the strength of his arms, his body.
The stories she read constantly reminded her of him. The Daddy in the stories had an athletic daughter, a top state athlete. His daughter excelled in softball. She excelled in softball. His daughter's team won the state championship, hers' had as well. His daughter's team had won a national championship, hers' had as well. Just too many coincidences for me not to consider the possibilities. It had to be my Daddy writing about me! In the stories, the daughter's best friend was Sara. My best friend was Sara. The story daughter had turned 18 in September of her senior year. I had turned 18 last September as well. I was now close to graduating! And I would be going to a Div I college on a softball scholarship like the daughter in the stories. But my mom was still alive and living at home. But.... It had to be him! He definitely was the author???
My Daddy the author? The author of stories about sex! Stories about sex with me! My friend! Stories of Mom joining in sex with Daddy, Sara, and me. And then a brother got to be included! I was wet, my body flooding my sex with juices. Glancing at the clock, I had another 8-9 minutes before Mom would yell for me to get up. I again reached to my crotch, my fingers quickly reaching into my sex. God it felt good, touching my self. I wonder if Daddy would do this for me. Would he lick my slit, suck my clit into his mouth? I wanted so badly to have him grab my clit in the mouth, his teeth holding my clit as his tongue danced over the flesh. Daddy was flicking me, biting me, driving a finger into my wet hole. I could feel him, touching me, caressing me, biting me. My cunt jumped high above my bed, my sex open for him. "God Daddy," I screamed out loud. My breathing was ragged. I could not get a breath. Gritting my teeth, my body exploded into orgasm. This time, convulsions caused my body to flop on the bed, my legs clamping shut as my knees drove upwards toward my chest. Spasms wracked me, my cunt twitching with each flick of my clit. I could not stop. Daddy would make me cum twice. He always did in the stories. My mind exploded, a second orgasm running through my groin, my sex flooding my fingers as I shoved two in my wet cunt.
"Oh my God," I whispered as I rolled to my side, curling up. Am I Daddy's little slut? Would I fuck him for real? Could I get him to want me? To take me? I ached! My body yearned for his touch, his cock. I shuttered silently as another small orgasm rolled through my body. I pulled my hand from my crotch, squeezing my legs together. I sucked my fingers into my mouth, tasting me. Minutes passed, I had to get up, showered, and dressed for school.
I arrived early, meeting Sara as planned. I looked at her. She was very pretty, athletic, and adventuresome. We knew each other's intimate secrets. Neither of us had had sex. Just not of great interest. We both dated extensively. Neither had a real steady boyfriend. Again, similarities jumped to mind. What if Daddy had been watching through cameras in my bedroom, bathroom? No, Daddy would, could not do that! I noticed Sara, her breasts pronounced by the body tight knit she was wearing. Her nipples were stiff! "Sara," I quipped. "You little vixen," I continued. "You have a bra on?" I asked surprising my self.
Flexing her pecs, turning to me, Sara stood proud. "Yes Patti," she responded. "Just a very thin one," she acknowledged. Pulling her blouse down taut over the breasts, she surveyed them. "Not bad huh," she said, raising her eyes to catch mine. I glanced up with her, having seen her tit flesh pressed firmly to the material.
"Not bad sweetie," I responded, leaning to give her a quick hug. Her body pressed against mine. We hesitated, both feeling the hardness of her nipples, my nipples , touching. It was electric! "My goodness," I breathed softly into her ear. She knew what I meant. She moaned audibly into my ear. Pulling back, we stared at each other. My mind raced. Again, the stories came to mind. The Daddy described how the best friends explored, played, talked about sex. Could we? Would Sara be willing to share with me? Could I confide in her? My mind raced 100 mph. "Ah, class time," I sighed. "Later," and I was off. Now, I had another whole set of thoughts to mingle with my scrambled ones. Did I want that to happen? Did I want Sara? Did I want to have sex with a female? It had to be hormones. I was just horny! Nothing more! Or was there?
All day, my mind ran the gamut of thought. Daddy this, Sara that? And sex, my mind was constantly on sex! By last period, I had to go to the bathroom to relieve myself, making my body cum in record time. And quietly! I could hear the other girls talking, but could not make a sound as my body erupted into orgasm. My piss following cumming felt terrific. It almost caused a second orgasm pissing. Amazing! I ran back to class, my face flushed! I noted Sara staring at me, her eyes questioning me.
"Nothing," I quipped!
"Your red face does not look like nothing," she responded.
I grinned sheepishly. I just squeezed my thighs together, feeling my clit trapped between my legs. I wiggled softly, adding to the sensitivity already in my crotch. I glanced back to Sara, her nipples hard again. She caught me staring, even turning to me slightly for a better view. I was determined to suck her nipples after class today! "Holy fuck," my mind screamed. I looked away, startled! My crotch spasmed one more time.
After we finished classes for the day, we hit the field for softball practice. Today focused on conditioning, a hot, sweaty practice followed. I needed a shower. If I followed the scripts of the author's stories, I could be having meaningful, wanton sex by this evening without losing my virginity. But what if it was not my Daddy's stories?
