Daughter's Anal Birthday Gift
Melissa Young -- October 2018
I was nervous in the changing room. My eighteen-year-old body quivered as I stared at the outfits before me. They were all so much more
adult
than I was used to wearing. When Daddy said he wanted to take me shopping, I was so shocked. He never wanted to take me shopping, but when my college classes got out, he'd offered to take me.
He said I was beautiful and pretty.
It sent all these butterflies through my stomach. It made me think of Daddy as a man. Not just as my father, but as a man who liked women. Liked my mother. He said I looked as pretty as Mom did at my age. They were high school sweethearts. They had grown up together. Loved each other. He was so sad after mom passed away a few years ago.
I slipped off my top and sat it carefully on the bench. My small breasts jiggled in my purple bra with white polka dots on it. My flaming hair swayed in the mirror's reflection. I grabbed a halter top. I pulled it on, trembling at how naughty it was. It showed off so much flesh. There were only spaghetti straps that went over my shoulders and...
I could see my bra. The top of the cups peeked out and the straps were thicker than the halter top. I bit my lip. It was designed to be worn with a different type of bra, like a strapless demi bra. I didn't have one of those.
Should I take my bra off?
I gnawed on my lower lip in indecision. Daddy was outside the changing room. He wanted to see how beautiful I was. This strange, hot itch formed between my thighs. It was this wild heat. I groaned as I could feel Daddy waiting to see me.
I pulled off my halter top and then, in a flash, darted my hands behind me. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I undid the fastener and slipped off my bra. My small breasts came into the view in the changing room mirror on the back of the door. They jiggled. My nipples were hard.
It wasn't cold in here...
I grabbed my halter top and pulled it on. I drew it over my head and torso. A tingle raced through my eighteen-year-old body as I finished donning it. This pleasure tingled out of me. I adjusted the top, my breasts cradled in the outfit's cups. My breath quickened. I couldn't believe I was wearing this.
I pulled off my long skirt, my purple panties with the white polka dots felt so innocent for what I was going to be wearing. I swallowed as I grabbed the black skirt I picked out for this outfit. I stepped into the skirt. I dragged it up my thighs. It was so short. It fell barely halfway down my thighs and hugged lower on my hips. I zipped it up.
"Am I really wearing this?" I whimpered. My fingers played with my skirt's hem. There was this strip of exposed flesh, my stomach on display. "This is--"
"How's it going in there?" Daddy asked. "I bet you look pretty."
"It's going... fine," I said, my voice tight. My heart fluttered faster and faster. My breathing quickened. My cheeks burned, spotted with dusky freckles.
"I'm eager to see how beautiful you are," he said.
Beautiful? I wanted to be beautiful.
I trembled, my stomach writhing and squirming. I grabbed the doorknob. My chest felt so tight. I opened the door and stepped out before my father. He was a tall man, his hair as red as mine, his goatee a darker shade of fire. He stood tall, broad-shouldered. He was a PE teacher and coach at my college. His eyes flicked up and down my body. They widened.
"Is it too much?" I asked, trembling before him.
"Lord, no," he said. He cupped my chin, lifting my head. "You are as beautiful as your mother. You just look so pretty. Radiant."
My cheeks burned hotter as this pleased delight rushed out of my nethers. That hot itch grew more. It was so naughty. I shouldn't be feeling like this around my father. I was so aware of my hard nipples and the fact I wasn't wearing a bra.
"Turn around," he said while his hand slid from my chin across my cheek to push back my hair behind my ear. His touch left tingles in his fingers wake. "Let's see how gorgeous you are."
"Daddy," I whimpered, that warmth growing more. I was happy and embarrassed and confused all at the same time.
I turned around, his hand moving to my shoulder. He touched me as he stared down at me.
"That skirt looks great on you," he said. "It really makes you look cute. It fits you perfectly. Really makes your... your butt look great."
"Daddy!" I groaned as I kept turning around. My breasts rose and fell as I completed my circle and faced him.
"Yes, you are just beautiful," he said.
I felt so daring now for pulling off this outfit. My butt looked cute? That was amazing. What about my breasts? I wanted to ask Daddy that, but it was far too embarrassing. His hand was still on my shoulder, his finger slightly stroking me. This warmth rippled through me.
He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek as his hand stroked down my arm. His lips were so warm. I trembled, my heart fluttering faster and faster. This amazing treat surged through me. I wanted to turn my head...
Why was I feeling anything like this for my daddy?
"Let's see how beautiful you look in your next outfit," Daddy said.
"That's so cute that you're putting on a dress show for your father," the salesgirl said. She was a few years older than me, her black hair framing her round face. "And you do look so pretty in that. It fits you."
I headed into the changing room. I closed it behind me. I whimpered. I felt so... so juicy. I was dressing so daring. I had to stop thinking that Daddy was seeing me as more than a pretty girl. He was just being a loving father. The guilt burned hot through my guts for these taboo feelings. I pushed them down as I peeled off my halter top.
My breasts came into view again. There was a faint flush creeping down my breasts. My nipples were so hard. I bit my lower lip. I groaned as I grabbed the scoop-neck blouse. I pulled it on as fast as I could. It fit tight, the material stretchy. It had a plunging neckline that showed off some of my cleavage and...
I should have put on my bra first. I could wear it with this top. The material, this shimmery pink, felt so amazing on my nubs. They poked at the front of the fabric. It was so thin, it molded to me. Though it completely covered my tits, it still managed to show off more of my breasts than the halter top.
I felt practically naked without the bra.
I bit my lip. This strange, wicked, daring sensation seized me. My pussy clenched as this wild thrill shot through me. I unzipped the skirt and dropped it down my thighs. I would buy both of these outfits. I grabbed the pair of pure-white shorts I chose for this fun blouse. I slid it down, feeling how tight it was. It was stretchy, molding to me.
I worked it up my hips, my braless breasts bounced and jiggled. My heart beat faster and faster. I pulled it up higher and higher. I drew it over my hips. I wiggled, feeling it seating so tight against my rump. Hugging it. I fastened it.
I bit my lip as I adjusted it. I looked over my shoulder at me at the mirror, seeing it hugging my rump and...
I could see my panties. It was so tight, it molded to my underwear. I swallowed. Should I buy a thong? I had never thought of buying one of those, but now... with these shorts... I swallowed. It would be so naughty.
Daddy could see how cute my butt really was in this.