Daddys Princess Whets Her Appetite

Daddy's Princess Whets Her Appetite

Or

If You Can't Play With A Group...

By

©2012 Daniel de Laire

Tracee had a rough day at school today. Her homework had somehow not gotten done, and she was given no credit for the assignments. The pop quiz in math bit even sharper. She was unprepared from not studying, and scored a 15%. She had been an honour roll student for her entire academic career, and these grades hurt her to receive.

She did her best to hide these things, hide them from her Daddy. She could not bear his disappointment. She had always been the straight A student with perfect attendance. Her and Daddy had already chosen her college and law school. Freshly 18, the latter half of her academic career loomed.

The changes had taken Tracee the summer before quite by surprise. Changes in her feelings, and in her body. Her tertiary hair was coming in as fast as she could shave it off. She no longer thought boys were so silly. She was a very late bloomer. And her hormones were raging.

Tracee came through the front door and made a beeline for her room. It was 4:00, and she had two hours before Daddy made it home from work. She shut the door and threw her bag on the bed, thinking lasciviously of its illicit contents as she peeled away her school uniform. The moistness inside of her young vagina made her uncomfortable, the increased motion within due to the lubrication only served to warm the flames of the adolescent volcano within her. Tracee desperately needed to cum.

From between her mattress and box spring she retrieved a plain manila envelope, which contained her most prized possession. During the summer, she had installed a hidden camera in Daddy's bedroom and shower, and the best results were contained within that envelope. She laid them out on the bed, pictures of her Daddy in all of his naked glory.

The boys at her school never did much for Tracee. From a young age, she was always Daddy's princess, and nobody could ever treat her better than him. He had always come to her dance recitals. He took her to Disneyland several times a summer. Daddy was, in every way, her very best friend. They did everything together. Everything except one thing, which Tracee had convinced herself, would always be a fantasy. When it came to women, she couldn't believe some of the guttersnipes Daddy consorted with. Tracee knew she could never be like that, but masturbating to his pictures was enough for now.

Tracee lay on her side in the bed, so she could see the photos she had lain out, and began to manipulate her clitoris with one hand, and massage her breasts with the other. She would close her eyes and imagine it were Daddy, finally coming around, and allowing her to be his everything. After she had come once, she reached into her bag and found her new prize, a vibrating dildo she'd just stolen from the adult bookstore near her house. Running in, grabbing it, and dashing had given her such a thrill, and it made her pussy all the hungrier. She hurriedly loaded it with the D-cell batteries she'd bought, turned it on, and turned herself back on.

She ran the gleaming plastic machine along the outside of her opening, gently at its lowest setting, and she could already feel the vibrations of her body begin to match the vibrations of her battery-powered boyfriend. When the orgasm came, it was more intense than she had so far experienced, and found she could not control the volume of her voice. She no longer panted, but bellowed.

"Mmmmmm...Daddy...oh God...Daddy...mmmmmmm...fuck me, Daddy...mmmmmm...fuck me like one of your whores...mmmmm...make me your whore, Daddy...mmmmmm...fuck me, Daddy"

The orgasm began to take over her tiny body, and it shook as she began her orgasm in full, the familiar vaginal contractions, and the warm wetness of her ejaculate gushing onto her comforter.

"Daddy! Oh Daddy!" she screamed, into the emptiness of the house.

Tracee lay on her back, in the bed, spent. Only as an afterthought she had checked her watch, which read 5:45. She had to check twice, because her sessions did not usually last that long. She would have to make double-time to get dressed, to get the sheets washed, and everything put away before Daddy came home from his job. Whatever he was doing, he was always home to have dinner with her.

She didn't think that Daddy would take kindly to her spying on him; in fact, she knew it. For the time being, her obsession with Daddy would have to be kept a secret. A secret not to be revealed until she felt she could successfully make a move.

More to come...