My childhood was not always filled with the love and warmth that a girl dreams of. My Dad was great but my Mom was, shall I say, not as loving and nurturing as I hoped to be one day. When I was little she would rant about everything - my room being messy, leaving soap suds in the tub, just about anything she could find to gripe about. I sigh now as I recall how sweet my Daddy was through it all, and know that he loved me more than anything else in the world.
I had gotten my learner's permit just before my 16th birthday. Mom hadn't wanted me to but finally acquiesced when Daddy put his foot down. So, the learning began. Daddy was going to teach me everything I needed to know. Looking back, he really has, and driving was only the tip of the iceberg.
The car wasn't fancy, but that didn't matter. It was time I could spend with my Daddy and not have to listen to Mom bitch. He insisted I put my seat belt on even though it seemed to press between my well rounded tits and show them more than a girl should. I didn't mind though, Daddy and I were alone. For a long time I had wondered how he could stand being around Mom, even to the point of wondering how they ever found enough interest to make love when I was conceived. Well, that’s another story, on with this one for now.
I'd carefully back out of the driveway and look both ways, the seat belt straining the low cut tops all us girls were wearing back then. Sometimes even my bra would show, I'd blush and tug the top back into place as Daddy watched with his usual loving eyes. Driving was way too easy, I'd simply go with the flow and learned quickly how to navigate the streets of our smallish town, all the while hoping for a smile of congratulations from Daddy.
He was so patient with me I couldn't understand why Mom had to be the way she was . . . bitchy 24/7.
I was a week away from my birthday, “sweet sixteen and never been kissed,” when Daddy tossed me the keys for another lesson. Mom had been ranting all day and I knew he needed a break from her manner of commanding his attention and belittling him every step of the way.
Finally my birthday arrived. But even on a day that should be filled with fun, I had to contend with her bitching at me for wanting to get my license. Daddy talked to her, but she seemed less than willing to discuss it even when we were sitting watching the stupid movie she picked out. Even on my birthday she was not willing to let me choose. When she got up to go pee Daddy leaned over closer and whispered to me as he laid his hand on my leg to not fall over too close, “Sherry, I'll talk her into that license, it won't be long,” and kissed my cheek to show me his intent was real. The rush of feelings sent my blood to boiling; he hadn't kissed me in like forever. I think he was scared that I'd report him to child services or something, or maybe he'd just have to listen to Mom's accusations of child molesting. She'd said it before even though he hadn't ever touched me more than to tickle me when we played, and that is not molesting. I knew what that was, and dreamt almost every night of having him touch me like that.
Anyway, Daddy had made us reservations at a nice restaurant for my birthday dinner since Mom wouldn't even consider cooking a special meal for such an unworthy occasion. He got up from the couch as she came back in and said, “It's about time to get dressed for that dinner reservation,” with a smile towards his birthday girl.
Mom planted herself on the couch and said, “Already? I wanted to watch the rest of the movie,” with cold hearted cutting words. She could really put a downer on even a happy occasion and knew it brought her the attention she wanted. Anger was what she seemed to live for.
“ Mom, ” I pleaded, “it's my birthday, please don't be like that,” earnestly trying my best to make her happy for once. “I promise to behave, I'll even wear that dress you like,” rather than the slinky one Daddy had purchased for me without her knowledge. I really liked the dress from Daddy. It was shorter than any of my others, about mid thigh and so nice and soft it rippled when I walked and felt so sexy. The top was not really low cut, but I thought the soft supple fabric showed off my C cup tits very nicely. I knew if I didn't wear it that night I would have to put it on and give Daddy his own private fashion show so he knew I really liked it.
Mom looked at me and then to her husband of 18 years. “I'm not going!” she said with an intolerant glare at Daddy that said she had decided. My jaw hit my chest I think, I couldn't believe even she was that much of a bitch.
Daddy looked at her with the same awe as I had. Then he looked madder than I'd ever seen him. Somehow he managed to use words that didn't reveal his anger, “All right, if you don't want to go and enjoy your own daughter's birthday party, we'll go without you.” Again my jaw hit my chest; he hadn't ever stood up to her like that.
Daddy insisted I put on the dress he gave me – which I happily did – and off we went. Daddy was on a mission to make this a great experience for me, and he did. We had a great meal and since we didn’t have the Mom albatross around our necks, we also went to a comedy show, and then went dancing. I was out later than I ever had been in my life before. While dancing, I noticed many admiring looks from males in the place – including Daddy.
About 1 a.m. the dance studio we were at was getting ready to close up, and played a slow dance as the last one. As Daddy and I danced, I pressed one leg between his. I felt a growth forming in Daddy’s crotch. Within seconds after that, he broke our hold and said we should leave. He was flushed, with a few beads of sweat forming on his brow. Hmmm. Was I having an affect on Daddy?
On the trip home, Daddy drove and I laid my head on his shoulder and lightly held onto his arm. I fell asleep by the time we got home, but rather than just waking me, he lifted me up and carried me into my bedroom. When he laid me in bed I was half awake, and he kissed me on the cheek. I turned and kissed him; my lips landed on his. He didn’t pull away. After a few seconds I turned my head and lay it on the pillow. My mother’s bitchiness was temporally forgotten – I went to sleep with wonderful memories of the fun night Daddy and I had together, including the admiring looks in the dance club; and wonderment about the bulge in Daddy’s pants.
After my birthday night, I was intoxicated with my sexuality. Perhaps for the first time I started noticing that I also got many admiring looks from guys at school. I started dressing more provocatively at school, and wore as little clothes as I could get away with at home. Apparently Daddy had laid down the law with Mom, because she never bitched at me when he was around – even when I was wearing skimpy clothes; clothes that Daddy clearly found impossible to ignore.
Daddy and I were out practicing driving the next weekend, with the intent of me taking my driver’s test in about a week, when disaster hit. I was making a left turn when another car came through a stop sign and hit our car on the driver’s side. I was told that the air bags deployed, but don’t remember it because I was unconscious. I woke up in the emergency room of the hospital on a gurney with Daddy standing next to me. He wasn’t hurt – just sore – and fortunately I didn’t have any major injuries, “just” a concussion. The doctor told us that if I took it easy for a week, I should be O. K.
When we got home, Mom was actually concerned for a few minutes – I couldn’t believe it. But once she was sure I would be O. K. she started complaining about me driving, although Daddy made it clear to her the accident wasn’t my fault.
Daddy helped me to bed. As a real pleasant surprise, he helped me get undressed (to my bra and panties) and then when I lay in bed I saw a tear form in his eye as he held my hand and said to me “I was scared to death I had lost you before I could tell you how much you mean to me. You’re my life in every way.” He tenderly kissed me on the lips, smiled at me, and left me to sleep. Hmmm again!
My dreams filled my heart with feelings I couldn't quite understand. I laid there and felt empty somehow, my mind racing, my gut aching, warm moisture growing deep inside of me. When I woke the next morning Daddy was sitting beside my bed in a chair he had pulled over from my dressing table. Suddenly I remembered our going out for my birthday, th e nice dinner, the show and the dance club. I shivered as again my tummy flopped inside me and I got really wet, you know, down there. I was ashamed of feeling what I was, but I looked straight into his ever loving eyes. “Morning Daddy,” I croaked out sleepily, “what time is it?”
He smiled and slid his hand over to cover mine laying on top of the comforter he had covered me with as I slept. I still wore the same panties and bra I had on when he finished undressing me but somehow felt comfortable with him there watching over me. “Baby,” he whispered, “it's still pretty early. Your Mom is still in bed asleep and I just came in to be with you. I still can't believe how lucky we were.”
His eyes welled with tears until I turned my hand over and cupped his into my own. I felt so comfy, but found myself needing to pee. I looked up at him and asked, “Can you help me up Daddy? I really need to go pee and I'm not sure I can make it to the bathroom alone.” My eyes glimmered at the thought of him helping me, my lips turning up to a faint smile as he rose from the chair.
“ Sure Sherry,” he cooed with the satisfaction that he could somehow help me. He stood up and towered over me as I struggled with the covers. “Let me help you sweetie,” he offered as his big hand pulled the comforter, blanket and sheet back. “Think you can walk?” he asked coyly.
I looked up at him as my body was all but uncovered by his gaze. His eyes roamed over me as if checking to be sure no bruises had painted my body while I slept. The one across my chest from the seat belt was getting dark and I frowned as I saw it. “I think I will need you to hold me up to be sure Daddy,” I replied. Turning my body to the side of the bed my legs parted as his eyes instantly seemed to go to my juncture. Strangely I didn't even blush as he saw the moisture gathered at my crotch. He reached down and gave me his hand and I rose unsteadily to my feet. The next thing I knew I was in his arms and opening my eyes to see his worried look. It hadn't been but a momentary black out , but apparently the concussion was very much real. “Daddy? What happened?” I asked as he held me up against him tightly, his chest bounding as he almost cried. I lifted my head to look into his eyes, but didn't quite make it. I saw only his lips, puffy and frowning as he looked at me, his little girl. I stretched up before he could answer and kissed him, his lips so soft and gentle I felt the very heart of his love. He returned my kiss, deepening it, pulling me tighter against him as his hands cupped my butt. I thought I could really get used to him holding me.
It seemed as if he didn't want the kiss to end and as I moaned softly against his mouth I felt his tongue slip between my slightly parted lips. “Oh Daddy,” I moaned into his kiss. I felt stronger just from him holding me, and raised my legs around his hips. I could feel the bulge in his pants and held him with all my might. Our lips parted leaving me feeling empty and whispered, “Daddy, I still need to pee,” and giggled at the silliness of that when I was so warm and safe with my Daddy holding me.
After he sat me on the “throne”, he left me, telling me to let him know when I was done. After relieving myself, and now having been conscious for awhile, I started to feel real womanly urges. Maybe I still wasn’t thinking straight because of the concussion, but my body knew what it wanted. So I took off my bra and panties and called to Daddy to help me back to bed.
His eyes got a big as baseballs when he came into the bathroom to help me and saw me standing there naked. The growth in his pants got even bigger. As he helped me back to bed I gently put my hand on the large bulge in the front of his pants. He let out a loud groan. When he lay me back down in bed it seemed he needed to touch some of my private parts too, and when one hand brushed against a breast, I captured it with my own, and held it there, moving his hand over my nipple and staring into his eyes.
Daddy’s eyes glazed over, and I saw an expression I had never seen on his face before – wanton desire. I no longer had to hold his hand onto my breast – it was glued to it now – so I used both my hands to unzip him and grasp his rock hard erection in my hands.
