Bob Benjamin - Daddy tastes so sweet

Despite the awkward position, the.pain in my back from being bent like a pretzel, I wiggled and drew the last rigid inches of awesome man meat high inside my rectum. "Oh, yes," I moaned softly, ecstatic, feeling only the tightness, the loveliness now. I let my knees drop and planted my feet wide apart on either side of his thighs. "Now it's wonderful. Now fuck me real slow… 'til you're ready to come… then do me hard like before."

Mr. George pulled back and gently drove the full length of his dick up my ass. Again. And again. Resting his weight on my belly, he reached down between our sweaty, tense bodies and cupped my bush. His fingers found the wet slit. He opened the lips. He probed.

"I love that," I told him.

"That's because you're some hot little piece, little girl. Hotter than hell, you are."

"Finger-fuck me. Play with my clit."

His fingers dove high in my love hole, making me gasp. Taking my soldier between thumb and forefinger, he jerked me off while slowly plowing my rectum. His mouth came down on my breasts… tonguing the peaks. He nibbled the nipples, sucked. His free hand cupped one cheek of my ass… squeezed the tender white flesh while his prick-now harder, fatter, it seemed, than Daddy's, Tom's, and Popsy's, Mr. Levine's and Vic's all rolled together-dipped in and out of my asshole with smooth, even strokes. His cock made a faint squishing noise each time he thrust. And my asshole, my hot little brown pocket, quivered and tightened, opened and closed and sucked-almost as if there was another Kitty-Kat-Kathie in there… the old one, the novice who'd sucked Daddy's joint at the lake-coaxing another orgasm, another delicious load of wiggly cum-worms, up from the sacs slapping my wriggling behind.

We fucked real slow… making it last a long time. I thought about Daddy-about all the things we'd done, wondering, for the very first time, if perhaps he was right in not wanting to perform the ultimate, the cock to pussy sexual act with me. Was it wrong for him to screw me… even though we both wanted it to happen? And Mummy! Was it okay for her to fuck Tom, and yet be indignant, outraged, because me and Daddy were doing the same thing?

No! Not even the same thing! I thought angrily. Even now, when it was out in the open, when Mummy knew and had run off for the second time, Daddy simply refused to stick his cock in my pussy. I couldn't understand the older generation. Like I couldn't understand Daddy sitting forlorn and alone on the sofa at home, while Mr. George did me, fucked every hole in my body, on the black leather divan, while Mummy and Tom were off somewhere, probably fucking, while Debbie, I had no doubt, was sucking off Popsy, and right there, in the noisy backyard, half the men in the neighborhood were sucking around after someone else's wife's ass.

Everybody was doin' it! Doin' it! Doin' it! I thought. And poor Daddy… all alone with his guilt and his hard-on… when at that very moment he might have been fucking me.

"Jesus dick heads! That's a little girl asshole to beat all fuckin' assholes!" Mr. George began driving his cock in rapid half strokes up my rectum. His eyes were sexually glazed. He sort of winced each time the roots and his nuts smacked my buttocks.

Again I forgot about Daddy. I slid farther down on the divan and wrapped my firm little legs around the back of his thighs. "Now do it hard," I said, lifting my hips. "Long strokes. All the way out and in. Don't hold back. Do whatever you want to me."

Mr. George complied. He began fucking my rectum the way he'd fucked out my twat. His hot cock bored all the way into me. He gripped the halves of my ass in the same steel claws that had gripped and held and frightened me when he first drove the formidable thing into my pussy.

"More!" I demanded.

"Little girl…"

"Call me… oh! OHHH!" I was coming. I wrapped my small arms around his broad shoulders and wiggled my tight little shitter for all I was worth. "Call me Katty" I told him. "That's what Da… owwwwww! That's what I like to be called when someone's coming in me."

It was morning. Sunlight glared through my bedroom window, reflecting pearls of colored light off the dresser mirror opposite the foot of the bed. I yawned, stretched, and winced. My pussy and asshole, even my mouth, ached. I licked my lips and tasted the sour residue of Mr. George's cum.

"Eck!" I grimaced. I'd been fucking and sucking far too much lately, I decided.

Naked, the damp sheet molding my body, I lay quiet and listened. The shower was running. Daddy, I knew, was getting ready for work. The night before, when I returned home from Mr. George's place, he'd been sitting on the sofa, exactly where I left him, and hardly noticed me walk by. Now he was showering, perhaps shaving… both good signs.

I dozed. When I awoke again the house was quiet. Had Daddy again gone to work without even saying good-bye, I wondered. Boy! He'd never done that before Mummy ran off with Tom!

I hopped out of bed and padded naked into the living room, went from there to the master bedroom, then to the kitchen. There was a note on the table. I scowled. Fucking Daddy! I thought. Lately, whenever he didn't want to talk to me, the little square of paper would be propped against the darn sugar bowl in the center of the table. I opened the note and read:

Kitty-Kat, I'm sorry about the way I've been treating you, lately and particularly about last night. Forgive me. I'll make it up to you. Promise. Look in the sugar bowl.

Love and kisses, Daddy

Heart racing, I lifted the lid off the sugar bowl. There was another note inside. With trembling fingers, I opened it and read: BUY YOURSELF SOMETHING SPECIAL… MORE KISSES… DADDY. And inside the note, folded like a small Halloween trick or treat, was a fifty dollar bill.

Tears sprang to my eyes. Could it be, I wondered. Was he, after all this time, as he'd done the first time Mummy ran off with Tom, the time at the lake, preparing to bring his magnificent, swollen cock to me? The thought made me dizzy. I threw my arms wide, yelled and spun and danced about like a nitwit.

Abruptly I stopped. What would I buy, I wondered. A new dress? Something sleazy? Perhaps one of those kinky knit things Mummy always wore? No! I decided-I mustn't do anything to remind him of Mummy. A negligee!

Something soft and black and see-through… something to make him see and think only of me.

I raced to the bathroom and showered and brushed the grubby taste of Mr. George from my mouth. I flew to my room and dressed. I glided on winged feet from the house and waltzed happily down the street to the Simon place.

Debbie and Popsy were at it again. They were wrapped around each other, in Popsy's big bed, where, since the day we three christened the room, they'd been doing their thing. They were too absorbed to hear me come in or see me standing there. I leaned back against the doorjamb to listen and watch.

"Fuck!" said Popsy. "Sweet little cunt of yours smells like old tuna this morning."

"Shush up!" Debbie, her cute little ass in his face, six 'n 'nine as usual, took hold of Popsy's stiff, stubby cock, and mouthed the head. She moved her hips back to give him a better look at her gash.

"Ain't been washed," observed Popsy. "Spunky little sucker, you. After last night… fuck! No wonder you smell like a herring."

Debbie abandoned his log. "Thought you said tuna?"

"Fishy!"

"I'll go douche."

Popsy grabbed her ankle as she started off the bed. Debbie giggled and twisted. They wrestled. Popsy pinned her.

"Wanna fuck me again today?" asked Debbie. In reply, Popsy moved down and coaxed her legs apart with his bony knees. Again Debbie giggled. Again they became all arms and legs and abandon.

Astonished, I watched. How had she managed it, I wondered. Popsy, I knew, was dead set against straight fucking his daughter-was all tied up in Daddy's hang ups about incest. Yet there they were! Doing the thing; Popsy's pink doughy ass humping away, his log stoking Deb's twat as if they'd fucked hundreds of times before. I was amassing an uncanny respect for Debbie's seductive ability. She was full of hotsy surprises; first Daddy, then Mr. George-Mr. Levine, too, I wondered-and now…