Daddy's Little Girl

Chapter 3

School hadn't gone so well for her that day, twelve year old June reflected, walking home in the late afternoon down Isabella Street.

Not a small part of her discontent could be attributed to the lascivious sexual scene she had overheard from her parents' bedroom that morning as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

Of course, she accepted the fact that her parents had sex together.

Still, it was especially disturbing to her to overhear her mother's delighted gasps and moans and her father's panting groans as he fucked his wife. There was her jealousy, for one thing, and then there was the fact that her masturbation fantasies concerning her father were increasingly dissatisfactory in erotic content. No, her fingers were no longer enough, she thought gloomily.

She was really hopelessly drugged on this sex thing, and she needed more!

At times she dreaded to consider just what that might mean in real terms. She had glimpsed her father's penis several times while growing up, and she remembered it very distinctly as something huge, masterful and fearsome. There was its thickness, for one thing – even at rest, it always appeared bloated and fat, traced all over and around with pulsating blue veins, hanging curved and dangerous looking above testicles which, she was convinced, might be very bruising on her tender young buttocks if they ever…

Well, but that was all conjecture. Nothing like that could ever happen between herself and her daddy. It was taboo, and she would never know where to begin to approach him. He probably regarded her as an obnoxious little brat anyway.

June sighed and continued walking. She shook some length of golden hair out of her eyes and blew it off to the side, looking at the ground. It was a beautiful day in Wilmette, with the spring sunshine in full array after several days of rain. There was a scent of heady sensuality in the air, common to the first nice days of spring. She could feel her loins tingling irrelevantly, out of control. She would have willed it to stop if she could, but it was hopeless.

There was nothing she could do except move along, head down and helpless beneath this spring- induced churning sensation which had so flooded her loins with the warm sticky sweetness of sexual arousal.

Overhearing her parent's morning fuck had really made her jealous, so much so that she was scarcely able to concentrate on another thing as she prepared her toilette. It was all she could do to put those sounds of rampant bestial sensuality out of her mind during the interminable school day which followed.

She'd thought of them together, her breath coming very fast, as she prepared her own breakfast, then lovingly set a place for her dad, then set out the various breakfast items so that Mom would be ready to prepare it the moment she appeared in the kitchen that morning, dressed and perfumed from her hot sexual scene with Daddy.

The young blonde had tried reading the morning paper for a little while, but not to very good effect. The trouble was she couldn't concentrate, because she kept seeing them, locked in a flaming sexual embrace, Daddy with his enormous red penis sliding in and out of her mother's burning cunt, gleaming with the moisture of her inner softness. And then, of course, her jealousy increased and she thought of it again – it was a vicious circle. It made her jealous, and when she became jealous she thought of it, which made her still more jealous.

That awful scene of her mother and father rutting like two animals in the wilds of their large round bed.

These were the thoughts which had dominated the impressionable adolescent's entire day. She'd been nervous and apprehensive of showing anything when her parents finally came down to breakfast, and then after that she thought about them all day long and of what it must be like to be – she didn't want to use that naughty word cousin Ronald had taught her, but she couldn't help it – to be fucked by her handsome and masculine daddy.

Not that she had shown anything, of course. "Morning, kitten," her dad had said when he came into the breakfast room, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She had been afraid to answer because her throat felt all choked up, but she had smiled as best she could And then he had ruffled the morning paper she had set out by his place, harumphed and began reading.

But what could she do? Now? What could she do now?

Originally, masturbation had seemed to be the answer, but now it scarcely satisfied her any more. She needed more, something, anything that would quench this insatiable need in her hyper-aware young loins.

But what would it be? An actual boy's penis sliding in and out between her widespread legs?

Her breath whooshed with desire, even as she thought of it. But wouldn't that be heavenly, if she did actually get a real penis inside of her – all nice and thick and hard…

That was the problem again. For, coupled with her urgent pubescent desire, there was also a vague, hopelessly shapeless fear that real intercourse with a real penis would rip her tender virginal pussy to bloody shreds. If all men's things were like daddy's and she had no reason to believe they weren't – how could they possibly fit into the small, tender opening which existed down there between her smooth young legs within that quiet little "vee" of sparse blonde pubic hair?

No, it was unthinkable. Real sex with a real man would probably kill her.

But, on the other hand, what other choice was there? What other choice did she want!?

Disconsolate, it seemed as if very few choices were open to her at her tender age. And she couldn't exactly confide in her mother about the terrible shameless desires which whirled around inside of her pretty little head and tingling belly when she lay in bed at night thinking of Daddy. That was also unthinkable. Secrets built up quickly. She could no longer discuss her most personal problems with her mother, who had always been her very best friend. It was all too difficult.

So, it seemed that, all day long, the troubled young pre-teen had been confronted by a series of frightening and insoluble choices that left her brain only a mass of hopeless confusion. How could she possibly sort it all out? From first to last, her preoccupation with her new sexual difficulty had distracted her from doing anything useful in school, and there had been some clashes with teachers who accused her of not paying attention. What was the answer?

"Hi."

June looked around. It was her fifteen year old cousin Ronald. He also lived on Isabella Street, but he usually came home a different way, after playing basketball all afternoon in the courtyard at St.

Ludmilla's church. Ronald was a tall, lanky boy with a shock of almost white-blond hair and a kind of stupid smile which only served to exaggerate the crookedness of his teeth and the curiously unshaven straggling hairs on his young jawline. Though a lot of girls regarded Ronald as interesting, June thought of him as somewhere between a caterpillar and a worm, when placed next to her Dad, who was everything any girl could ever dream of with respect to masculinity.

"Hi," she said lamely, kicking up a patch of dust in someone's front lawn as they passed their house, the family's great Dane kicking up his usual terrific fuss as the two youngsters went by.

Ronald threw a stone at the great Dane and brushed his blond cowlick back up over his forehead. He was always doing that, June thought with impatience.

Wouldn't he ever grow up?

"Walk you home?" he said.

"Of course." That was stupid; of course he could walk her home. They were only a few blocks away now.

"Have a nice day in school?" he asked.

"Mmmm. Sure. A wow." She tossed her honey-blonde hair back out of her eyes and stood up a little straighter, so that her breasts would tilt up at a more inviting angle. Ronald might not be the most appealing individual in the world, but he was still male and June had some vanity about the unusual early development of her widely spaced breasts. She passed her hand down over her hips and organized the enticing sway of her walk.

"Sounds like you didn't have such a great time. You'll like high school a lot better." His eyes feasted hungrily on his younger cousin, and she wondered if she detected a telltale bulge in the front of his trousers.

He seemed to be walking rather stiffly, she thought with a certain vain satisfaction as he continued talking. "There's a lot more to do in high school.

You're too grown up for girls your age." He winked at her.

"How do you mean that?" June asked coquettishly, knowing very well how he meant that.

He grinned, and the grin became a leer. "You know, June… 'cause you've got tits."

She bit down on her lip as if she were angry, but the butterflies had started up again in her loins. "Ronald Kilgoor! Don't you dare say a thing like that!

You should be ashamed of yourself!"

He only grinned and tossed his cowlick back out of his eyes again. Then he didn't say anything else for a long time. Finally he asked her, "You wanna go into the park?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "And do what?"

He shrugged. "Go on the swing. What else you got to do?"

It was true she didn't have much homework, and it was such a nice day there was no point in going in. Anyway, Daddy wouldn't be home for hours and she didn't feel like hanging around the house without him.

There didn't seem much harm in going into the park with Ronald. Most of it was pretty open – except for the circle of bushes known as "Shakespeare's Grave" for some obscure reason. There wasn't much chance he'd try anything funny So they just kept walking down Railway Road until they came to the park in back of the Donovan house and the other houses that ran around the block on Isabella Street and Cardinal Drive. Then they went up to the swings and dropped their books in the grass.

The little park, sometimes known as Railway Park because it had been deeded to the city by the now defunct North Short Railroad about a million years ago, contained about a half dozen baby swings and grown- up swings, a sandbox and a lot of trees and bushes. On nice summer Sundays, her father played baseball in one part of it with some of his friends or football occasionally in indifferent weather. Now June selected one of the big swings and sashayed her panty-clad ass-cheeks up onto the wooden seat.

"All right," she said. "You can push me now."

And he did. She felt his warm, eager hands almost caressing her tight young buttocks as he shoved her forward, each time a little higher into the air. She could feel the cool breeze blowing so sweetly on her exposed loins as her skirt opened wide and flared up embarrassingly over her tiny waist. She wanted to tell her cousin not to push her so hard, but the combined effect of his hands buffeting her hips and the wind whistling into her panty-covered loins was so exhilarating that, for a moment, she couldn't get her voice. She looked down at her lush young body as it swung outward in an arc over the grassy ground below.

Her skirt had come up completely and her thin white nylon panties were in full view now, complete to the slightest wisp of blonde pubic hair curling from underneath one narrow elastic leg band. Through the apex of her panties could be made out unmistakably the shadows of other sparse blonde hairs crowding together over her softly nestling vaginal slit. June blushed right from her hairline all the way down to her toes. All the houses that looked out onto the park! And what if someone should come walking down the street or through the park!

"Ronald! Please! Let me down! Stop!"

But his bold hands on her shapely twelve year old buttocks had now taken to fondling them, and June's sex-hungry loins were beginning to respond – all too much. Her entire cuntal region seemed to be glowing like a piece of iron on a hot forge. In a sense, she was afraid her loins might suddenly burst upward through her belly and out her throat as a ball of fire, the feeling was so extremely excruciating, agonizing, and she didn't feel as if she could stand it a second longer.

But that squeezing and gripping by her cousin's demanding hands was gradually weakening her ability to protest. She closed her eyes and let the wind waft between her open legs, right up through her white nylon panties and into her love-starved pubescent pussy. This was ecstasy.

Her buttocks, her loins, her tingling belly, everything down there seemed to be alive as if filled with electricity. She couldn't remember anything so delicious ever happening to her before. The combination of flight with fondling was exciting beyond anything she could have expected.

"Please…" she begged feebly as she came down again, "let me down"

He gave her ear a quick lewd lick and she shivered as if with a fever, as his hands pushed her up and away again. This was heavenly, she thought; she really never wanted to stop…

"Let you down on one condition," he murmured as she returned, his fingers digging into her buttocks and driving her wild.

"Huh? What?" she asked dreamily.

"Let's go into those bushes over there – by Shakespeare's Grave." His voice was bold and sure of itself.

She swung away and up again, the fullness of her naked white thighs swinging forward into the bright blue sky with wanton abandon. "Huh… oh… all right…" she said vaguely, only half aware of what she was agreeing to.

And then he stopped the swing abruptly. Catching her breath, her flared nostrils snorting with sensuality, June let her cousin lift her off the swing, her breasts and belly sliding erotically down his muscular front like liquid rubber. Then he grabbed her hand and they ran off together in the direction of Shakespeare's Grave.