Daddy's Girl

Daddy’s Girl

When my mom took my fraternal twin sister to visit my grandparents for three weeks she made me promise to take care of Daddy. But I very much doubt she meant for her eighteen-year-old daughter to take over all her wifely duties.

But Daddy did. And I wanted to be a good girl like I promised Mom.

Yesterday, Daddy took my virginity in the changing room of a lingerie store. I was modeling my new sexy underwear for him, and that excited him. His dick was so hard, in such pain, I had to be a good girl and satisfy him.

And it was amazing submitting to him. I surrendered my body to Daddy and he rewarded me with ecstasy. His thick cock popped my chair and had had me moaning. It was so risky. We could have been caught, but Daddy didn’t care.

He reveled in the risk. It made the sex so hot.

Since I was on Summer break, Daddy expected me to clean the house. And be naked the whole time. I wondered if he made Mom do this. She was so submissive, too. She was always waiting on him, loving him by keeping the house clean, making great meals, and giving him constant sex. My sister and I would hear them all the time.

She was such a fifties housewife. I learned at school that women shouldn’t be subservient to their husbands and boyfriends, but Mom was so happy doing it. And now I understood.

Which was why I cleaned the house naked. It was exciting. It brought such a rush. I wanted to call Mom and ask her if she did the same thing. Was she naked while my sister and I were in school? Did her hot pussy drip juices down her thighs as she scampered about the house, reveling in the thrill of nudity?

But I couldn’t ask her. Mom could never know how much I replaced her. It would break her heart. When she returned, I would go back to my normal role as daughter, and Mom would take care of Daddy the way she always had.

But I didn’t want this to end. Last night, in bed, Daddy had made love to me. He had licked and caressed and touched every wonderful part of my body. My pussy grew wetter just remembering his strong lips nuzzling into my cunt and tonguing me to orgasm after orgasm. I bucked and gasped on his bed, making all those wonderful noises Mom would make.

I understood. Daddy was amazing. Such a handsome, hunky stud.

I had dinner cooking in the crock-pot when Daddy came home. The moment I heard his car pull into the driveway, I did what Mom would do—I rushed to the door to greet him. I stood naked, trembling, my nipples hard atop my round breasts.

Keys jingled. Footsteps approached. I glimpsed his shadowy figure through the frosted window. I reached out and opened the door, smiling at my Daddy. He was so tall, his muscular chest stretching the dress shirt he wore. And his hair was dark. It made him seem so powerful and dangerous.

“How was your day, Daddy?” I asked as I took his briefcase.

“Good, good.” The slightest hint of a smile touched his lips as his eyes glanced down at my body. I straightened my back more, thrusting my round breasts out. I was proud of them. They were growing nicely, bigger than Alice’s, my fraternal twin. Her tits were smaller.

She was such a brat I was glad I had one thing better than her.

Daddy stepped into the house and closed the door before anyone saw I was naked. But the thrill made me so wet. I squeezed my thighs tight together as Daddy took off his suit jacket. I took that from him along with his tie. I knew Mom’s routine. I had seen it so many times growing up. It was always the same.

I raced upstairs to put the tie, suit jacket, and briefcase where they belonged before rushing back downstairs and finding dad sitting in his recliner. I froze, realizing there was something I had to do before the massage. Blushing, I dashed back to the kitchen to get him a bottle of his favorite beer.

I returned and presented it to him. He didn’t comment on my mistake.

“How was your day, Daddy?” I asked as I knelt down before him and unlaced his loafer.

“Long,” he groaned. “Lots of meetings. Idiots fucked up the project and they needed Daddy to rescue their asses.”

I smiled as I pulled off his loafer then the other. I set them aside before pulling off his dress socks and exposing his large feet. His toes were so thick. I grabbed his right foot and began massaging it. Mom had talked to me about it before.

“You need to dig your thumbs into his soles,” she had said a few weeks ago as she massaged Daddy’s foot. It was a rare time were I wasn’t banished from the living room like usual. Normally, my sister and I were not allowed to be in the living room when Mom massaged Daddy’s feet. “He likes the pressure to wipe away the stress. It’s wonderful and intimate. Right, dear?”

Daddy had nodded, staring down at Mom with this glint in his eyes.