Anything for the Man of the House: Ten Brats who Learn how to Behave by Scarlett Skyes

still ticking, his hands were
balled into fists beside his hips and the front of his pants were
pulled taut over a rather impressive bulge.
    My mouth filled with saliva as I
watched that bulge thump against the material. Fuck he was
massive. The muscles in my core did a little happy dance, and
my virginal brain pondered how something which looked that big
behind loose cargo fatigues, could possibly fit into something so
small.
    Flicking my eyes back to his
face, I found his own whiskey brown ones trained on my baby blues.
I blushed at being caught looking at my father’s cock. But
something inside of me was behaving like a cheerleader, she was
doing star jumps and chanting yippee give it to me .
    The cabin fever was obviously
still affecting my brain. In a move I didn ’ t know I was capable of, I made my size sixteen
butt look sexy as I got up from my prone position on the lounge and
sauntered over to where the chief stood rigidly. Standing on
tiptoes I whispered against his skin, “Welcome home, Daddy. ” Then I pressed
my lips against his. I didn ’ t know what
had made me do it. I have no idea why I had called him daddy. He
had always been chief or dad to me. But the look on his face as I’d
said daddy had something in the back of my mind flattering
awake, and my pussy clamping around empty air.
    His breath smelt of mint and
cigars, telling me he ’ d had a great
training session. He always celebrated with a cigar if he was
impressed with what his men had accomplished that day. But mostly I
registered how soft his lips were against my own. He didn't move
them, didn't kiss me back. Feeling silly I went to step away from
him. Having not stood on point since I was ten, one of my ankles
rolled under my own weight. My balance teetered and I fell against
his solid chest, my beaded nipples stabbing into the thick
camouflage jacket he wore, and my lips were somehow still in
contact with his. My fathers ’ hands
automatically went to my hips in a bid to steady me.
    The cold tips of his fingers
felt like branding irons against my flesh. The hard cock that
I ’ d watched twitching seconds before, now
stabbed into my stomach. I couldn't hold back my whimper. He was
huge and he was hard. I wanted him to show me how to take a
man.
    With a growl, the chief’s short
nails dug into the soft flesh at my hips. Lips that had been idle
against mine now moved, turning the peck into a proper kiss.
    Opening my mouth I allowed his
tongue entry. It was better than anything I could have imagined. My
knees shook as he took control, teaching me without words what he
wanted me to do. I couldn't believe it. I must ’ ve been dreaming, because there was no way that he
was kissing me, his chubby stepdaughter. The girl who had never
been on a date before. If this was a dream I didn't want to wake
up, I didn’t want it to end.
    His hands slipped from my hips
to the cheeks of my ass, the tips of his fingers settling deep into
the crease that parted the large globes. He pulled me closer to
him, his stiff cock felt like it was trying to drill through my
belly button. When he pulled his lips from mine I was dizzy with
desire.
    "Myka we can't be doing
this.”
    His words would have bothered me
if his hands weren ’ t still gripping with
enough strength to leave bruises. But he was right, we
shouldn ’ t be doing this. He had been my
dad since I was eight, he had been the one to come to school
recitals, he was the one that scanned each and every one of my
friends to make sure I wasn ’ t hanging out
with the wrong crowd. He was the one to tell me I was beautiful and
not fat when my junior prom date stood me up. We
shouldn ’ t be doing
this . I shouldn ’ t want him to be the
one to take me to heights I ’ d only ever
dreamed about. But knowing that we shouldn ’ t and telling my body to stop wanting it, were two
very different things. Letting my body take charge, I asked.
“Why?”
    “Myka, you ’ re my daughter.” His protest was lost as