Sharhtoosh

Stanley Carrington felt slightly ill at ease as he strutted back and forth in the plush little room with its decorative celadon-green panelling. This academy for the Etiquette Training of Young Ladies may have been just a big old house turned into an institution to promote well-mannered women, but it had all the outward trappings of an establishment of highbrow learning as far as he was concerned. He'd never been keen on formal education and had skipped school himself as soon as he'd learnt how to cheat with money, so he was feeling out of place.

A bunch of yellow lilies in a vase was dropping amber pollen onto a small polished table and a horsehair sofa lay behind it. And there, not five yards away from where he was standing stood a large oaken chair of the type he only seen in museums. Each arm and the panel at the back were supported by a row of eight beautifully carved spindles. The back itself was decorated by an inlay of the most delicate floral design, and the head of a bull was carved to lay half the length of each arm. Wow, he thought. He'd learned something of antiques and it was late fifteenth century if it were a day. He'd make someone an offer for it before he left - tell 'em it was Georgian but in poor condition and see if they fell for it.

There came a knock on the door and he opened it at once. "Nicky, darlin'!"

"Hi, daddy," replied the solitary young woman standing outside, "I'm ever-so surprised to see you here today." His daughter was silhouetted in the doorway with the riveting self-consciousness of an actress entering a room in a play. She paused for a moment to reveal her perfectly curved figure frugally dressed in yellow. A skimpy outfit that made her appear both sexy and ladylike.

"Well, I've some business to do up north tomorrow, an' since I was drivin' by so close I took the opportunity to pop in and see how you're gettin' on. It was good of that administrator-woman to let you out of class at such short notice. Come on in and shut the door, she says we can have this room for as long as we like."

For a moment he silently observed his daughter. It had been several months since he'd last seen her and he was surprised by her appearance. At twenty years old she was just as cute as he remembered, but there was something else. She was beautiful of course, but now she seemed to exude an element of confidence that hadn't been there before. The self-confidence of a brass, he thought.

That was an awful way for a man to describe his own kith and kin, but she definitely did. Her lashes were long and fluttering, and her face was gorgeous enough to be on a magazine cover. He knew Nicola had been sent away to an expensive school for over-indulged, spoilt young madams, and he knew in such a place girls would be taught to dress tastefully and exhibit upper middle-class pretensions. But he wasn't going to complain. Nicky did look beautiful in a pleasing, very feminine kind of way. She was a delicate young thing and as pretty as anything. Slender and lithe, with flushed, warm cheeks and a soft mouth, and her legs were superb. Better than his sister's, and he could easily envisage them encased in silky, black stockings. Taken as seen she was more than enough to make any blokes prick stir in his trousers.

The girl stroked her hair, caressing it as if it were a pet animal. "You really should call me Nicola not Nicky, you know." she said softly, almost insolently.

Stanley bristled, jarred by his daughter's punctilious tone and strangled vowel sounds. He thought her newly acquired accent so refined her words must have been squeezed through a laundry mangle. "Sod all the changin' o' names, I reckon I'll call you Nicky like I's allus done.

"Mrs Breeding, the principal, says shortening names is a tasteless, common thing to do, and mummy agrees with her"

The mention of his snob of a wife rankled Stanley Carrington, and his contempt for her pompous, la-de-dah attitudes were not hidden in his response. "Aye, I know, but she'll put up with my common ways while I keep givin' her plenty o' cash to spend."

Stanley called himself a 'general dealer'. He was a man of common origins, but was financially astute as well as devious and he made a good living by having an eye for the main chance and selling dubious get-rich-quick schemes to greedy, gullible people. He was the past owner of a score of business's, the assets of which he always cleverly salted away before declaring them bankrupt. Names were of little concern to him since he was in the habit of inventing different names for himself each time he promoted a fresh scam. A certain affluence was noticeable about him from the expensive three-piece suit he wore, but he didn't wear affluence or suits well, having a broad body with something of a large belly, and jowls that folded down over his collar.

The man's thoughts at that moment were far removed from being selfless, they were wild and sordid, and he was becoming excited just contemplating them. "What's this place like? Was it difficult to get used to?"

Nicola smiled martyr-like. "Everyone's quite strict. They shout and make life a misery if we don't do things right."

"Ah yes, I see. Quick to knock you into shape are they? Best to do as you're told eh! Well that's school life for you." He gave his daughter a sideways glance. "You know it wasn't my idea. I'd much prefer you to be at home, but there wasn't much chance o' that happening when your mother gave in to your idea of coming here."

Nicola pouted. Her ambition had always been to marry a rich man and enjoy a life of luxury, so being properly tutored in the ways of the socially elite was important to her. She could certainly cut it, thought Stanley. She had a magnificent face and a marvellous figure. Curvy, flamboyant in yellow, elegant in pearls, leggy in matching heels. She emanated sophistication and already dripped with high-life ways.

The girl was feeling radiant. Just being admitted to the visitors lounge made her feel attractive. The green walls, the parquet floor, the big fish print in a metal frame and the antique furniture. It was like one of those rooms people drooled over in swish magazines. Pretty. Pristine. Unlived in. She intended to be one of those spotless, pretty people that spent their lives posing in such places.

He sat on the horsehair sofa and beckoned the girl to sit beside him. Nicky noticed at once how lumpy Stanley's trousers seemed in the front, and she realised that her daddy already had a 'biggy' in his pants. Her father's expression mellowed as she perched beside him. He in his turn had noticed how her young breasts bounced and jiggled beneath the filmy top of her dress. No bra today, he observed. How nice.

"Since I don't see you so often theses days I've brought yu a little gift." he said.

"A gift?" Nicky beamed with delight as he laid a large flat package on the coffee table. "You're very kind. Thank you daddy." A crease of doubt then entered her expression. "It's not something tacky is it? I wouldn't be able to show it to anyone here if it were cheap and tasteless."

Without offering another word Stanley levered off the lid and drew aside a curtain of tissue paper. "It's a wool shawl." Nicky droned, not bothering to hide an undertone of disappointment.

"Not just any old wool shawl, Nicky my love. This thing here is a Shahtoosh and they're a pretty exclusive high fashion fad with rich women these days. The wool comes from the chiru, a type of goat sometimes called the Tibetan antelope. They live 15,000 feet up in the Himalayas and have wool six times finer than human hair."

"Really. How did you come by it?"

"I did a deal with an old soak who'd just got back from doing a TV documentary in the Changtang region of Tibet and he had a batch of 'em. He told me the chiru won't breed in captivity and they're an endangered species now, but poachers smuggle pelts into Nepal and Kashmir where the wool is hand plucked. He told me it takes ten animal skins to make a single shawl. "

The suggestion of exclusivity re-launched Nicky's interest at once. "Nice colours. Earthy, but with an exotic tinge." she remarked, suddenly noting how the browns merged with purples; oranges with reds, and subtle greens blended effortlessly with everything else.

"Similar things called pashminas can be produced from goats that are a relative of the chiru and can be farmed, But the Shahtoosh is more delicate and as a more expensive feel to it. Strange how women prefer to wear the skin of wild animals ain't it? There's something primitive about that."

Stanley loved the way Nicky batted her eyes when she realised she'd been given something expensive and special. "There now, have I made my girl happy?"

"Yes, of course you have."

"Just like yer ma. Allus happy when you've got your hands on some loot."

"That's an awful thing to say, daddy. You make me sound mercenary."

The man absently plucked at the narrow shoulder strap of her dress and hauled in down a fraction. "No, you're not mercenary. I knows you allus pays the going rate for your little prezzies, don't I?"

Nicky took a careful look around the room. "Are you sure it's okay to do stuff in here?"

"Of course," Stanley cooed, "That headmistress woman promised nobody would disturb us, an' just to make certain, I've locked the door."

Reassured, the girl gave a coy little smile and slipped the straps of her dress down over the slopes of her shoulders, then she pulled things down at the front until two youthful breasts sprang over the top like a pair of curious pink-nosed puppies at a gate. Indeed each nipple stood out proud on her delicate bosoms and their teats were already extended like organ stops.

With behaviour quite unbecoming of a lady she cupped a breast in each hand and offered them forward. "Naughty daddy want to taste some bon-bons? Daddy want to sucky-suck?"

Stanley took a moment to leer, but he didn't waste much time. His head went down and he wolfed at each nipple in turn, drawing it and an additional inch of flesh into his mouth as he suckled and slavered. It was the kind of assault Nicky never flinched from. In fact she delighted in it to the extent that she took to feeding her ravenous daddy with her youthsome tit flesh.

The man did the only thing he could think to do at that moment. He lifted the back of her little skirt and pushed a paternal hand against the back of her panties.

Nicola moved only to wriggle his bottom against the intruding palm. Her father nuzzled her hair. The girl smelt fresh with a slight hint of scented shampoo - or was it perfume? Girls at this kind of school were young women and probably wore perfume, and they all probably gushed and went drippy in a man's arms. He hoped they did.

"Kind daddy's need to be thanked properly. Do you remember how to do that?" he slurred as he planted a series of kisses down the side of her luscious, smooth face, licked her ear, then kissed her right on the lips and slipped her some tongue. Daddy kissed Nicky, putting his tongue in her mouth and practically making her swoon, then he put a hand up the front of her skirt and rubbed his panties, stroking the outline with his fingers.

A telltale heat crept into Nicky's cheeks and her lips curled back to show her teeth. For a moment she looked like a horse that was about to neigh, but in such a situation she knew how to respond properly and returned things with a squirmy lick while she unbuttoned the front of her father's trousers. A moment later she had managed to lever out his penis.

Nicky blushed. So did her daddy, but it was his own dick that showed stiff and drippy.

Stanley smiled contentedly. "Nice knob, eh! You don't mind giving it a bit of attention, do yer?" With no more ado he wrapped one of Nicky's hands around the thick shaft, and at once the girl started to pump it with the deft hand movements of a milkmaid, becoming flushed with delight when she detected the cock distending further, watching the dewy, porky tip bobbing up and down in the ring of her fist. Fitfully she awaited the first leap of cream from its flaring eye.

Their foregoing bit of intimacy had made Stanley's penis rigid to the extent that when Nicky used two fingers to bend it down like a lever, the length of anatomy twanged right up and smacked against his belly when released. He was one of those men whose hard-on pointed straight up at his chin, and Stanley loved that, believing that the angle of elevation was an indicator of horniness.

Nicky had suspected the reason for her father's visit the moment she'd been told he was waiting in the visitor's lounge, and sure enough daddy was now giving tongue-kisses and encouraging her to play with his swollen dickie. She lay back and accepted everything without complaint, and the way her light body squirmed around put the finishing touches to the erection that had been rising up in Stanley Carrington's trousers all morning.

"No need to rush things." he said. "We can use our time and imagination for something more than just a quick hand-job."

"Shall I get undressed?" she asked softly.

Stanley shivered with pleasure as he looked at the dress that was now little more than a cummerbund around her waist. "Er, no. No need for that. The clothes add a bit of extra sauce t'your appeal, darlin'. Just play with yer tits and keep the skirt up on your tummy."

Nicky leaned back and draped up the front of her skirt and opened her legs and her father smiled at the sight revealed. No tights or stockings today either, so just a short dive down the valley of her smooth white thighs would take him all the way to the gusset of her pants. Climbing down onto his knees he opened her legs until there was nothing between her oozing liquid heat and his own covetous eyes but a thin layer of nylon. He noticed at once the clench of muscle between her legs and the wet patch on the gusset. Gingerly he crept forward and extended just enough tongue to test the dampness.

Nicky brought her hands up to cuddle her breasts and found the nipples tense and aching and straining to push between her fingers. She gazed down into her fathers face, and holding in her excitement displayed the tiniest of grins at the corners of her mouth as she watched his head bobbing between her thighs. Lovely. She could feel his mouth working on her by then, feeding, churning as it reverently drew her sex juices through the micro-mesh of her pants.

Suddenly as if in a rush Stanley dragged the crotch of her underwear to one side. "Here, spread yer legs an' let me have a proper look at you," he urged as he pushed her knees apart. "Yer allus did have a cute lay-out"

Expertly he placed a finger each side of her exposed pussy to spread it open. The lips of her sex were engorged with blood; rather dark on the outside, becoming deep pink inside. Stanley had been between enough women's legs to know the geography; the vaginal opening, the inner lips, and the swollen sensitive little tonsil that gave them so much pleasure. Nicky was moist there. She was juicy.

The girls mouth formed a 'O' as his nose scrapped her pubis, and she shivered intimately when he put his face between her thighs, swirling his tongue left and right and then circling her clitoris before pushing into the slick wet hole. The pure eroticism of what was happening thrust her into a veil of euphoria. "Oh daddy, keep licking me. I like it."

He did keep licking her for a while, and then he drew back and one of his hands ran down her body searching for her legs, then plunged up his skirt to pull off her knickers. Drooling at the sight of the little pink treasure now exposed he positioned her, spreading her legs in a workmanlike fashion and using his fingers to open her up, which was easy because she was so wet and ready. Stanley spat on his hand, slathered the spittle onto his ruby and dragged the soft sheath of skin down from its streamlined tip.

"I bet you miss this kind of thing being cooped up here all the time, so you won't mind yu nice daddy having a little go with you, will you?"

He wedged her open with his knees and slid between her legs, the prong nudging her thigh before being at last offered up to the waiting pussy. Easing forward he separated the wet lips with the tip of his tool and watched as Nicky hole open up and stretch as the sturdy length glided in.

He sank into her easily. Softness, moistness, heat. Surrounding and hugging him. "Oow."

Nicky uttered an esoteric gasp as Stanley humped against her. "It's such a monster. Are you going to give me the whole length?"

Stanley couldn't find any words at that moment. In reply his hips arched back, and already accustomed to the squelchiness and the slipperiness, he then slammed forward and began to fuck her properly. She put her hands around his neck and felt the muscles under his skin and those tiny hairs where the barber had run his razor close. And his hands were slowly moving down her body and it felt like they were doing things that beautiful people did in films. Nicky was an active participant when it came to sex. She moved and made noises. "Oh, come on. Do it!" she gasped out loud in a voice breathy with emotion.

Stanley rolled forward onto his elbows and responded with firm thrusts of his pelvis. Being a man well-practised he had laid her on her back in order to get stuck into her in the traditional missionary style, humping her thighs then driving down forcefully. Occasionally he went so deep that a strange sensation of pain and pleasure sent a confused message through Nicky's body, but overall her noise of pleasure became more audible as her daddy's movements became more frantic. Sensations flowed between them in an unbroken circle. She could hear herself panting like a dog, but she didn't care. Stanley could hear her babbling something, but she could have been speaking Hungarian for all he knew. He fancied her mouth was moving but he couldn't interpret the noise coming out of it.

Nicky's style of taking it was undulating and fluid so she was able to savour the penetration of her womanhood. Her mind became transfixed on her daddy's dick as it plied its way in and out, slow and deliberate at first and then moving faster, its solidness and her own wetness making a sexy slurping noise. She enjoyed being fucked that way and her movements became more frenetic as she urged him to his task. Daddy was her master for a while and she was happy to concede to being daddy's woman.

Very quickly her breathing became more audible as her daddy's hips began to move with the rhythm of paternal consideration. Stanley smiled, pleased to see how quick to arouse his little fuck-monkey of a daughter was.

He quivered with lust. "Ah, yes. That's good. You're makin' me hot for you honey. Yer makin' me hot just like a bitch-girl should. I'm ready now. I'm ready for my favourite bit Nicky. Give it to me. I'm going to sit up, and then I want you to climb on top and straggle my thighs. I want to feel that sweet tight arse of yours slidin' down over my randy dick."

As he rolled away the girl pushed up with some uncertainty. "I don't know if I want to do that."

"Nonsense. Your mum loves it and I know you do too. Come and sit on my lap." He sat on the rim of the couch and patted his knees, then reached for the hot young miss and hoisted her forward. "Ups-a-daisy, there we go."

The little doll sat on her daddy' lap and started to kiss him. He liked that. They both liked it. Nicky swung a leg across her father's broad thighs and after a little fidgeting her bottom hole came to rest on the fat tip of his cock.

"Uh!" The girl gasped in startled surprise and babbled incoherently when Stanley deliberately dribbled more spittle onto his index finger and wedged its tip between her clenched buttocks. She'd expected it and should have been ready, but it still surprised her as it sought out and found the portals of her sweet girly anus. Stanley didn't probe into the small backside however; he merely stroked across the delicate pucker with his wet finger and concentrated on assuming a comfortable pose.