Daddy's Little Girl

Writer's Note: This is a story for adults over eighteen years of age about adults eighteen years of age or older. While the story line is true the dialog has been compressed for the sake of time and space. Safe sex was not an issue in the early seventies, but by the early nineties safe sex became an absolute necessity and continues to be so today.

*****

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Tampa and I spent the morning running errands. I had one more errand on my agenda then I would be free to ride over to Clearwater Beach and spend some time on the beach checking out the hot, bikini-clad, bodies like any fifty-year old bachelor would do. In the early nineties, forty and fifty-year old women were in competition with the twenty-year olds to see how much they could stuff into a tiny bikini. Bikini tops only covered the nipples and bottoms only covered the pubic mound and were little more than a G-string.

It was a little after eleven when I pulled into the parking lot of my insurance agent who had insured my home, cars, and my life ever since my divorce twenty years earlier; it was not unusual for me to stop by for a chat and coffee. While I did need to conduct some business there I also had other things on my mind. I chose Saturdays to conduct my insurance business for two reasons; one, Tommy, my agent always took Saturdays off and two, Arlene, his forties something "office assistant", was there to run things alone. Arlene was a very attractive, Yankee transplant who had married a drunk that did not take care of her needs.

For several years I would stop by from time to time, about the same time, for coffee and some chatting, most often about her drunken husband and the fact that she was not getting "any" at home. At noon she would close the office and pull her car around back and we would spend an hour or so in the break room or one of the offices fucking.

This day, however, was very different; the office was completely changed. There were no stacks of files on the file cabinets, the reception's desk was not cluttered, and there were several potted ferns and plants located around the room.

The door chime announced my arrival and a moment later a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, walked in from a back room, "Good morning, I'm Mica, may I help you?"

I managed to get out, "I'm Will. I just stopped by to have a cup of coffee with Arlene and to sign some papers."

"Oh yes, Arlene told me you might stop by. I have the papers right here." she said as she walked to one of the file cabinets. "Arlene asked me to tell you that she has moved away for awhile. She said you would know why."

I did know why and I wondered what took her so long to leave the drunken son-of-a-bitch. I looked Mica up and down as she looked for my file. She was cute but her style of dress was completely country bumpkin. She was fresh scrubbed and wore no make-up; her eyebrows weren't even plucked. Her auburn hair was braided and piled on top of her head. Luckily she had a pretty face and a very nice smile that showed her cute dimples. A lot of guys would pass her by without a second look, but I decided there might me a gem hidden there.

Her homemade, white, cotton blouse was long sleeved and was buttoned all the way to the neck; it did not give the slightest hint as to what might be underneath. The light blue, cotton skirt she wore was a size too big and hemmed well below the knee; her exposed lower legs were unshaven. I immediately began to wonder about her under arms too; I had gotten used to unshaven women when I was stationed in Germany in the sixties and really didn't mind it. She wore saddle oxford shoes to finish off her completely lack-of-style outfit. I have always preferred older, more mature women and it had been some time since I had been out with someone as young as thirty; I couldn't even remember one this young holding my attention since I was in high school.

She stood close beside me as she explained the purpose of each document and where I needed to sign; I could smell the scent of the dial soap she had used to bathe that morning. She left the room as I was reading and signing the papers then returned with coffee.

"Arlene said you take your coffee black." She said as she set the mug on the desk.

After signing the papers, I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee as Mica sorted through the papers giving me copies of each document. I complimented her about her organization of the office and how much better it looked.

"Thank you. My Daddy was a very strict disciplinarian and taught me the value of hard work and organization."

I replied, "He certainly did an excellent job. I wish I could teach that lesson to my high school students. What was his secret?"

She blushed a bit before answering, "It sometimes took a spanking to remind me of my duties."

My eyes lit up and my heart skipped a beat as an imagine of her bent over her my, . . ah, her Daddy's, knees with her dress up and her bare bottom pink from the contact of a firm hand passed through my mind; I felt a twitch in my shorts that brought my mind back to reality.

"I'm sure it was done out of love," I commented, unable to think of anything else.

She told me about the death of her mother when she was only nine and how her Daddy struggled to raise her and raise her "right". While she never mentioned it I was certain that she was "Daddy's little girl" in every sense of the word. At noon, Mica announced that she needed to close the office so she could catch the last bus home. I helped her close the office and set the alarm as I had done many times for Arlene. The difference was, this time we would not pull her car behind the office.

As we walked out the door I asked, "Why don't you let me give you a lift home so you won't have to waste your time riding the bus?"

She thought about the long ride downtown to transfer to the bus to take her home as compared to the fifteen-minute ride I offered. I assured her it would not be a problem for me and that I would enjoy getting to know more about her.

She smiled then said, "Okay, if it isn't too much trouble, but you have to let me fix you lunch." Then she added, "You remind me a lot of my Daddy; he was maybe a little taller but had the same kind eyes and gray hair."

"Ouch" she didn't have to mention my gray hair

She only lived a few miles from the office in an early, turn of the century, wooden, hurricane house with screened-in, wrap around porches set in a grove of Spanish moss, covered oak trees. The house was due for a paint job, but otherwise it was well kept; the lawn was well manicured and there was a beautiful vegetable garden at the back of the house. She had to walk a quarter of a mile to catch the bus to and from work.

When we pulled up in front she said, "Come in and have lunch with me? I have a left over peach cobbler I made last night."

Of course I did not have to think twice about the invitation; it was as if she knew exactly what my two greatest weaknesses were, pretty girls and peach cobbler. Like the office, she kept her house in the same exceptionally clean and well organized condition even though it was full of antique furniture and nick-nacks sitting about.

She led me straight through the front of the house into the kitchen where I sat at the kitchen table while she began to fix lunch. I didn't bother to ask for anything else when she poured lemonade into my glass; I was sure there was nothing stronger. She soon had leftovers warming in the oven of an old wood stove then she sat down with a glass of lemonade to talk while they warmed.

"My Daddy was an engineer at McDill Air Force Base; he designed many of their communications systems."

After more information about her Daddy I just had to ask.

"What kinds of things did your Daddy have to spank you for doing?" I asked.

"When I was little, it was the usual things like not wanting to clean my room or playing instead of doing my homework." She admitted, and then added, "When I got older I was a bit boy crazy and my daddy did not like boys coming around the house when he was at work."

During lunch she told me more about growing up with just a father and having to find out about becoming a woman from him. She was very forth coming and didn't hesitate about mentioning her sexual education from her Daddy.

"My first period caught us both by surprise; he immediately took me to the drug store and asked a lady working there what we needed. The next day he came home from work with his notebook full of notes on the subject and held class for me. My Daddy took everything literally, could never give you the simple answer to a question; he always gave a complete explanation, often with notes and sketches." Almost teary eyed she continued, "We had a very close and special relationship; we did "everything" together. He was a wonderful man; I miss that special relationship."

Once lunch was over we washed the dishes together; she seemed completely at ease being close to me, even casually touching as we put up the dishes. Afterwards, Mica showed me around the old house telling me stories about what it was like growing up in it. She had moved into her Daddy's bedroom after he passed away just to feel closer to him; we ended up in the living room where she directed me to an overstuffed, well used chair.

"Sit here; this was my Daddy's favorite chair. I often sat on his lap when he got home from work to tell him about my day," She paused then added with a smile, "and if I had been a good girl or not."

"It takes a strong character to confess doing wrong when you know you will get punished. I admire a young woman like that."

"Well, I always felt better after I was punished for doing wrong; even when I hadn't done wrong," she said with a somewhat devious smile.

I took a seat in the overstuffed chair then without a thought I patted my lap and said, "Then you must sit on my lap too."

Without hesitation she raised her arms above her head and removed several pins from her braids then ran her fingers through them; her auburn hair fell down past her shoulders. She smoothed her long skirt over her bottom as if to protect it and sat across my lap; she wiggled her bottom in my lap to get comfortable then placed her hands together in her lap.

"Is this where you got your spankings too?" I asked as I placed one hand on her waist and the other one on her hands.

She blushed a bit and nodded her head then added, "It was the last spanking I got before Daddy died a little more than two years ago. I had just turned eighteen a six months earlier."

I asked, "What could you have done at that age to deserve a spanking?"

She was quiet and solemn for several minutes then spoke softly, "An older boy from school touched me as he walked me home one afternoon. I told him, "no," but he didn't stop and I didn't do anything to make him stop."

"I can certainly understand why your Daddy was upset. Did you want him to stop?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I wanted him to stop because I knew it was wrong, but it was a wonderful feeling that I had only felt a few times before; I liked it."

"Where did he touch you?" I asked.

"On my top." She admitted still looking down into her hands.

I moved my hand to one of her breasts and cupped it softly, "You mean like this?"

She nodded her head then added, "Then he unbuttoned my blouse and put his hand in my halter and played with my tips (a common term from old English literature for nipples)."

Mica sat passively as I unbuttoned her white, cotton blouse and moved my hand into her homemade bodice that served as her bra. She took a deep breath and shivered slightly as my fingers found her already hard tips; her bottom again wiggled in my lap. My fingers rolled her nipples as her more than ample breast filled my hand.

"Is this what you let that no-good boy do to you?" I asked as she laid her head against my shoulder.

"Yes Daddy. I know it was wrong; I should not have given in to that feeling. That's why I deserve a spanking," She said almost on the verge of tears.

I was caught off guard by her calling me "Daddy" and I wasn't sure if she was role playing, enjoying a favorite fantasy, or reliving an actual experience. Whatever her reason, I knew that I would go along with her need to play it out. How could I have done anything less for this suffering child?

"How many licks do you think you deserve for being so brazen?" I asked.

Trembling and with tears running down her dimpled cheeks she sniffled the reply, "I guess a dozen or so, Daddy. I knew it was wrong."

I removed my hand from inside her top saying, "Then a dozen smacks on your bare bottom you shall get; you must count each one out loud."

When Mica stood up I took the opportunity to adjust my bent, but quickly hardening cock without being too noticeable. I moved to the edge of the chair to give her room to lie across my lap; she raised the back of her skirt to expose her white, cotton panty clad, young bottom then stood beside my legs. There is nothing quite as pretty as a young, firm ass in a pair of full cut, white, cotton panties; cotton absorbs moisture easily and retains the aroma longer.

I assumed her hesitation was for me to lower her panties but I could not resist moving my hand up the backs of her smooth flanks and over the perfectly formed mounds before going to the waist band of her soft cotton garment. Like most slender women, Mica had that small open space between the tops of her thighs that you could see through and I could see the puffy lips of her vulva through the patch of light brown pubic hair. Her soul may have been preparing for her atonement but her body was obviously preparing for something else. I placed several kisses on the cool skin of her creamy white cheeks.

Once I had her panties below her cheeks it was easy to see that moisture had already matted the curly, light brown hair close to her vaginal opening as she relived a special event in her past, or had that happened because of her wiggling her bottom in my lap. My heart pounded in my ears and my breath was labored as I admired the beautiful sight so close to my face. Mica bent over and lay across my legs; my hand gently moved over the beautiful white orbs divided by a deep crevasse open just enough to see a patch of downy, soft, matted pubic hair, her legs partially restrained by the panties around her thighs.

I felt a need to tell her, "You are such a brave young woman to suffer for your sinful acts."

"Thank you, Daddy."

She sniffled several times. I brought my hand up the back of her thigh then lowered it quickly on one her cheeks. There was a sharp "smack" sound and Mica called out, "One!"; when I raised my hand to repeat the movement on her opposite cheek there was already a very pink print of my hand on the first cheek. Mica whimpered and wiggled on my lap, "Two!" I picked up the pace so as to not prolong her agony; her white cheeks jiggled and got redder each time my hand made contact. She cried and kicked her panty restrained legs as I continued spanking her.

"I won't let boys touch me there any more Daddy, I promise."

I stopped when Mica called out, "Twelve!"; for several minutes I rubbed my hand soothingly over the hot skin and red marks my hand had made on her beautiful, creamy, white cheeks. I pulled her up and back onto my lap then took my handkerchief and wiped her tears and runny nose.

I opened her blouse and bodice completely and moved my hand over the wonderfully smooth skin of her torso avoiding her nipples and breasts. After a few minutes her sniffling stopped and her fingers began to unbutton my shirt. She snuggled her face into my neck; I could feel wetness where the tears had run down her face.

She wiggled her bare ass in my lap, but this time there was no pretense of getting more comfortable. I moved my hand up her smooth thigh to the panties restraining her legs then began pushing them further down her legs. She helped by lifting her bottom off my lap; she sat back in my lap and I slipped them down her legs and off each foot. Her body trembled from head to toe as I lifted the soft, white, cotton garment to my nose and inhaled her rich aroma.

She hugged my neck and playfully wiggled her ass in my lap then said, "I can feel how big you are Daddy."

I squeezed her close then replied, "It's difficult for Daddy not to get big when he sees how grown up his baby girl is."

"Daddy, can I make you feel better like before?" she asked.

"Of course, but you must remember that this is our secret." I replied.

"Oh yes, Daddy; I could never tell anyone," she said giving me a big hug, "I'll get a slicker."

At first the term did not register with me then I thought back to my high school days working in a drug store. In those days condoms were not displayed on the shelves, you had to ask for them at the drug counter. The correct term for them then was "prophylactics" but most people just asked for rubbers or slickers or the more crude terms like hot rod gaskets or mud shoes.

Mica jumped up holding her skirt up to her waist so the cool air could cool her hot, pink skin and hurried to the mantle. She reached into a Prince Albert tobacco tin and came out with a "slicker" and hurried back to Daddy's chair. She took my hand and pulled me up so she could sit in the chair; she opened my pants and reached into my boxers for my completely engorged cock; with a little maneuvering she was able to get it pointed out my fly.

I watched as she struggled to open the foil wrapped rubber without success. Finally, I took it from her hands and tore it open as she slipped her blouse and bodice off. What a beautiful sight! Her perfectly round breasts were decorated with rose pink, cone shaped areolas; her long "tips" were rock hard. Mica's slender body seemed to emphasize her small breasts making them appear larger than their "B" Cup size. Her arm pits, like her legs, were unshaven; a light patch of downy, soft hair adorned her under arms. I immediately wonder where else I might find such a soft nest.

She examined my cock for several minutes then covered it with kisses but never put it in her mouth. Once she was satisfied with it she stretched the rubber over the swollen head then expertly rolled it down my shaft; obviously she had done it before. I took my latex encased cock into my hand and rubbed it over her smiling face then over her nipples while she held my nut sack in her hands.

Mica quickly turned around and placed her knees on the front edge of daddy's favorite chair then crossed her arms on its back. She looked over her shoulder and gave me a beautifully seductive smile. I wanted to slam my cock into her very wet, waiting pussy and feel her warmth but there was also something else I really wanted to do. I dropped to my knees facing her open red cheeks and pubic hair covered slit. Her strong musk aroma caused my cock to feel like it would split wide open. I moved my hands over the still hot skin on her creamy white cheeks before opening them wider. I kissed along the sides of her slit to her tightly puckered rear orifice then rimmed it with my tongue. I tasted her sweet nectar and tugged at her brownish, exposed, glistening, inner lips gently with my teeth. I carefully examined the remnants of the once intact, glistening membrane that had been torn asunder by someone's engorged phallus; I kissed them gently then batted them about with my tongue.

"Oh Daddy, you make me feel so good." as she wiggled her hips and pressed her sweet ass against my face.

"Mmmm Baby girl, you taste so delicious; I could just eat you up." I replied.

My tongue began attacking her small, pink clit. Mica laid her head on her arms; her upper body began to heave as she tried to provide enough oxygen to her brain, her hips ground against my face. She began to grunt and moan as she approached her pleasure peak. My tongue lapped at her clit faster as my nose pressed against her rear orifice.