“Daddy, what’re you doing,” she screamed, and he slammed the laptop shut and let go of and covered himself, turning to look at her over his shoulder.
She was supposed to be asleep, but there she was, standing in the doorway to his office, naked but for one of his old t-shirts. It fit her like a massive dress and her pert nipples showed through the thin and worn white cotton. She looked confused and genuinely mortified and he wondered how much of it all she’d seen.
The image of the little girl he’d been watching, barely older than she, flashed before him. She was bent over and naked and screaming as a large man stuffed his cock into her tiny pussy, and the thought of her made his cock throb beneath his hands as he tried and failed to cover himself.
“What—what were you doing, daddy?” She, too, had the little girl on her mind. She, too, was thinking about how similar she looked to that little girl. And about how similar the thing she’d seen in her daddy’s hands looked to that man’s big thing.
She took a step into the room, the plush of the carpet of daddy’s office soft and warm under her bare foot.
“I was just—” he stammered, and said, “—aren’t you supposed to be in bed, little lady?”
“But I couldn’t sleep, daddy,” she said. “I had a bad dream.”
“Awww,” he said. “I’m sorry, princess.” And he wanted to give her a hug, to take her head in his hands and kiss her forehead, but he still had his cock under his hands and he realized how awkward that would be. Still, just the juxtaposition of the thoughts: his hands, her head, his lips, his naked cock, was enough to make his cock throb again against his spread palms.
He realized then that she was looking down at his waist and that she had seen it move, too.
“What is that, daddy?” she said, and the innocent ring of her voice made his blood pulse again. “Is that your—” she stumbled. “Is that your pee-pee? I’ve heard about boys’ private parts, but I’ve never seen one like this before.”
And he knew then, the tone and the level and the script of the game, and he loved her for playing it with him.
“It is, princess,” he said.
“Does it hurt, daddy, when it swells and twitches like that?”
“I see,” she said, and there was a momentary pause. She pressed the ball of one of her feet into the ground and twisted her leg innocently, pointing the her toes inward and tugging at the hem of his old white shirt. “What were you watching, daddy?” she said, and before he could get out an answer she had taken another step and her hand was on his computer.
“It was nothing,” he said, still genuinely embarrassed. “Nothing for little girls to watch,” he added, recovering the game.
“Mhmm. But I’m not reeeeeally a little girl, am I, daddy?” she said.
“Of course, you are, princess,” he said, and he lifted a hand and touched gently her back.
“I wanna see anyway, daddy,” she said, and she flipped open his laptop before he could say anything—”I don’t care if I’m not allowed.”
The screen was black for a moment and then it came once more to life, and again the little girl in her pigtails was bent over and her ass was in the air and past the image of his thick hard cock slamming into her, you could see her face turned toward him, screaming, and the sound of her screams and of his pounding into her filled the room about them.
He looked away from the screen and up at his little girl. It was clear that she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all, and clear, too, that something about it all turned her on.
He felt his cock flinch again beneath his hand, and he stroked it imperceptibly as she watched the screaming girl.
“Do you—do you like watching this, daddy?” she said finally.
“She looks a little bit like me,” she said.
“And he looks a little bit like you.”
He was stroking himself now, slowly, working his fist slowly over the length of his shaft. She leaned slightly into him where he sat in his chair, her bottom resting lightly against his shoulder and his offhand now lightly against her back.
It was odd—it was his shirt, and yet the feel and shape of her body beneath it, so small and lithe beneath the soft cotton, was driving him crazy. His cock throbbed in his hand and he almost moaned aloud it felt so good, pumping down over himself and breathing in the petaled fragrance of her as she stood leaning against him.
“Do you want me to help you with that, daddy?” she said, looking down at his lap.
“Oh honey, you shouldn’t—” he started, but she was already reaching for him.
“Oh hush, daddy,” she said. “No one has to know.” And as he let go, her little hand wrapped around him and he felt himself twitch uncontrollably against her. Her fingers were cold and she gripped him hard and he closed his eyes and leaned back his head and he thought for a moment he might cum that very instant.
“Does that feel good, daddy?” she said, and she pumped him up and down and up and down. “Does it feel good to have your sweet little innocent girl’s hands pumping at your big, glorious cock, daddy?”
He groaned and opened his eyes and saw her looking up at him and smiling and saw the little girl screaming behind her as the big bad man on the screen played at raping her tiny cunt and it was all too much, and he closed his eyes again and thought, he was sure, that he was in heaven.
“You like that, don’t you, daddy. You’re such a dirty old man, daddy, getting off to this. To that little girl being used by that big, awful man. To your sweet little girl jerking off your dirty old fat cock.”
She could tell what she was doing to him. She knew just what to say. She loved the feeling of it, the control. She knew how much he wanted her, and it drove her crazy, seeing it manifest on his pained and moaning face, seeing him writhe and twist and thrust himself against her little hand.
“Do you like seeing that?” she said. “Do you like seeing that pretty little slut get used by that big old mean man?” And she took her free hand and grabbed her daddy’s bearded face and made sure he was watching the screen. “Do you wish that was you, daddy? Is that it? Do you want to fuck that little girl, daddy? Do you wish that little girl was me, daddy, and that that man was you?”
His cock was throbbing uncontrollably now and he knew that he was about to cum. As if on cue, the man on the screen pulled out of the little he was playing at raping, and he spun her around and she dropped to her knees as he stood.
“Do you want to fuck your little girl, daddy? Is that it? Is that what you do at night,” she said, “come in here and watch little girls get fucked and wish that you were fucking me? Do you think about coming into my room at night and having your way with me, daddy?”
It was too much. She had both her little hands on him now and she was pumping furiously.
“I’m going to cum—” he managed to get out, but she was already there. She lowered her face inches in front of his swollen, pulsing head, and as the man onscreen let loose his heavy, spurting, white load, he erupted as well, all over his little girl’s smiling, ecstatic face, her little hands gripping him harder still and pumping and pumping as the thick ropes of cum spilled out onto her.
He was out of breath and heaving and she smiled up at him, covered in cum.
“Mmmmm… that was fun, daddy,” she said.
“It was, princess,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “And you did so good. You stroke daddy just like a big girl.”
And she cooed lightly and wiped a stream of his cum into her mouth with one slender finger.
“Now,” he said. “I think it’s time to tuck you back into bed, little lady.”
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