Daddy's Little Girl: Bred by My Daddy 3 (erotic taboo breeding erotica) by Francis Ashe Page B

bumps
rising along his path until he nestled his face between my breasts
and cupped one gently in his palm.
    My daddy drew a slow, tight pattern of
circles with his tongue starting from the prickled skin on my chest
and ending up with fluttering licks across my sweetly aching flesh.
Caressed by his breath and excited by the promise his tongue made,
my nipples puckered and peaked, yearning for his embrace.
    Th-th-th-th-thwop-op-op!
    I sat up, cradling my baby to my chest,
startled and alarmed
    Thweeee-we-we-we-op!
    “Weed eater,” I said, craning my neck to look
out the window. “Daddy is weed eating the bushes. Why can’t he just
use a pair of shears like everyone else on Earth?” I laughed as I
watched him wobble around with the orange tool over his head,
chopping accidental lines in the shrubs.
    “Well, little man,” I said, rubbing Davis’s
back, “you about done?”
    He responded by sputtering and looking back
at me with that glazed, euphoric look he always has after a
meal.
    “Okay, good. Let’s get some of this laundry
done. Well – I’ll do the laundry. You’re going to take a nap.”
    After I got him swaddled and safe in the
port-a-crib, I grabbed the pile of pants, the baby monitor,
wandered in next to the washing machine and started to work.
    Completely wrapped up in mechanical folding
and washing, I was unaware that my daddy had come in behind me
until I felt his thick, powerful forearms close around my
waist.
    “Hi there,” he said, kissing the back of my
neck. I could hear his smile.
    “Baby down?”
    I nodded.
    “Good.”
    I turned to face my daddy. “I guess,” he said
as he closed the door with his foot, “it’s just us then? Just us in
this lonely laundry closet.”
    “Oh yeah?” I looked up at him, my eyes wide
and innocent, and chewed my lip a little. “What are you gonna do to
your little girl? Are you gonna flip this skirt up, throw my leg
over the dryer?” I ran a finger down my chest and lifted the hem of
my pleated skirt just below where my cleft began. “You gonna shove
me face down and stick that big, hard cock straight in me?”
    Before he could respond, a pop song that
seemed to be lost in time burst forth from Peter’s pants pocket.
“Oh,” he said, “hark, your mother.”
    “Hey Marie, what’s doin? Uh huh, hey listen,
I... uh...” He made a ‘blah blah blah’ hand gesture. I couldn’t
make out individual words, but it was obvious that my mother was
talking up quite a storm in my daddy’s ear. I felt bad for him in a
way, but decided that I was going to turn his conversation into a
little bit of a game.
    Lifting my leg and stroking my knee against
the appliance, I slipped a finger inside my mouth, wet it with my
tongue and traced a line down my chest, hooking my shirt and
pulling it down to give my daddy a little preview of my milky-white
tits.
    “Buh- Marie, just a sec. Uh, call coming in.”
He blurted out, held the phone almost a foot from his face and
found the ‘hold’ button with a silly looking, bemused grin.
    “I just... God, Liz, you’re a sight. I don’t
know how you do it,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder and
feeling my arm, “you’re just incredible, you know?”
    Grinning, and feeling playful, I let my shirt
pop back into place and turned my back to my daddy. As I bent over
the dryer, I made sure to grind my thighs together just enough that
my skirt rode up my legs, and he could see that my panties were in
the washing machine.
    “Quit it! You’re making this call even worse
than it already is,” my daddy said, returning to the call.
    “Okay, sorry. So, you were saying?” He
attempted to return his attention to my mom. Whatever she was
saying didn’t make him happy, but that made my game more fun.
    “I donno,” I looked back and shook my ass a
little, “I think I feel like just getting fucked, daddy. Right
here. Right now. Watching you work in the yard all morning got me a
little... well...”
    He moved right up behind me