Hey, daddy. I know it’s late.
I... I just needed to tell you something. It’s been on my mind for a while now.
I thought it might go away when I went off to college, but… it’s only gotten more intense since I’ve gone.
At nights, especially, I toss and turn and try not to wake my roommate. Some nights, I can’t sleep because I’m obsessing over it.
Like tonight. I couldn’t sleep. And then I thought… if I could never bring myself to talk to you about this face-to-face, well… maybe I could tell you like this, on the phone, daddy.
So… here goes…
What I’ve been wanting to say is… I know you like me, daddy. I mean, in a special way. Ever since you got together with Mom and moved in, I’ve known. I’d catch you looking at me, looking at my body, and then turning away when you saw that I’d noticed.
No, daddy. It’s OK. Please just listen.
’Cause the truth is… I liked it when you looked at me. And I like you too, daddy. In that special way. When I felt your eyes on me, it was almost like they were caressing me. Almost like instead of just your eyes gliding over my body, you were running your hands all over me, touching my skin, making me tingle all over.
I liked that feeling so much, daddy. I started to crave that feeling. Did you notice, this summer, before I left, how I started to dress differently? How I started to show more of myself? How I started wearing clothes that showed off my girlish figure? Those tight shirts and tank tops? Those yoga pants that hugged my thighs, and those really short shorts and short skirts?
I know you noticed. And the more you noticed, the more I chose outfits that would really show you the shape of my young body. I wanted you to see my breasts--they’re nice and round and perky, aren’t they? And I wanted to let you look at my long, slender legs. I wanted to let you admire my cute, tight little butt.
I would stand where you could see me, or stretch out on the couch opposite you, and I could always feel your eyes on me, staring at my soft, smooth skin where it showed, gazing at my young delicate curves, undressing me in your imagination.
No, don’t feel bad, daddy. I loved every minute of it. I could feel your wanting me, and… it made me feel special. It made me feel so good inside.
But… that’s not all, daddy. There’s something more that I really wanted to tell you. Something specific that I... know about. Something that’s stayed with me for all these months now.
I know what you did, daddy. Late at night. In my room.
No--shh...It’s OK, daddy. Please, just listen. Let me keep going, please, daddy?
You tried to be so quiet. You crept in so stealthily, but that night, I’d been awake because of that big thunderstorm that wouldn’t stop. It was a hot, humid summer night, so I remember I’d kicked the sheets down near the foot of the bed and was stretched out in my thin, short nightie.
At first I was scared. First the thunder, and then an intruder. My heart was beating hard and fast.
And then, even in the dark, I recognized you. Your big, strong body, in your boxers and your undershirt, trying to move so quietly so you wouldn’t wake me.
But I was awake. And I was peeking at you through my narrowed eyes. You stopped at the foot of the bed, facing me. I felt you hovering over me, and that feeling came on so intensely, the tingling, knowing your eyes were drinking me in, staring at my young body in the faint light of the moon shining through the window, longing to touch me, lusting after your little girl.
I lay as still as I could. I had one arm curled over my head, resting on the top of my pillow. I could feel my firm, young breasts heaving up and down as I tried to control my breathing. I could feel my raised nipples pressing hard against the sheer fabric of my nightgown.
My legs were bare, and one knee was bent so they were in kind of a figure-four shape. The hem of my sheer nightie lay just over my hips. From where you stood, I was sure you could peek at the point where my slender, downy thighs met, covered only by the thin, silky crotch of my panties.
Through the slits of my eyes, I could see the bulge in your boxers. You moved your hand, hesitated, but then you just couldn’t help yourself. You slid your hand over that bulge and slowly started rubbing it.
I didn’t know what to think. I was all mixed up inside. But then you really confused me. You turned around and stood in front of the drawers of my dresser. You were still trying to be so quiet, but I could hear you panting as you slid open the top drawer of my dresser.
You pulled out a pair of my panties.
No, daddy, shhh... I already told you. It’s OK. I just need you to listen to me, OK?
I could see what pair you’d chosen by the dim light coming in through the window. They were those skimpy, black ones, the ones that hug the cheeks of my butt so tight, with the soft lace around edges. You must have liked that they were lacy and girly, didn’t you? And you liked that they were skimpy and a little… naughty, didn’t you? You liked my slutty panties, daddy.
Daddy? Can I ask you a favor? Can you go back to my dresser and find a pair of my panties again? You won’t find those lacy black ones in there, because I took them with me to college. But please, daddy, go find another pair that you like and then… will you relive this experience with me?
Please, daddy? Find another pair of panties; I left some behind. Maybe another slinky, stringy, lacy thing? Or maybe those boyshorts that hug my hips in that sexy way? Or maybe the ones with the cute pink ribbons at the hems? Just find a naughty pair that turns you on, daddy. And then… will you… do what you did... again… to my panties?
Oh god, it’s got me so hot thinking about it, just like that night. I watched you walk over to my desk and swivel the chair to face me. You sat down, gripping my panties in one hand and with the other, tugging at the waistband of your boxers and pulling them down.
I don’t know how I kept myself from gasping when I saw it, daddy. How it bounced up as soon as you pulled the waistband over it. It was so big… and hard… and pointing straight up at your stomach.
My feelings went from being all mixed up to… something else. As soon as I saw your cock-- daddy, is it OK if I call it that? As soon as you revealed it, I realized that I’d been wanting to see it for so long. I realized that, as much as I liked how you looked at me and how you were attracted to my body, all this time, I wanted to look at you. I wanted to see your body.
And now, I could see the part of you I’d never even dreamed I’d see. Your long, thick cock, naked and standing straight up, bathed in the cool moonlight. Thinking back, it was like a statue. Almost like something to worship.
That’s what it felt like, daddy. I knew I couldn’t, but I wanted to get out of bed, crawl over to you, kneel beneath you and worship that magnificent, erect cock. Every throbbing, swollen inch of it.
Take it out again now, daddy. Pull it out and let it get harder and harder as I tell you what happened that night.
I could tell that you were taking a good long look at me, admiring my soft, silky, slender legs, seeing them totally naked all the way up to the tops of my thighs for the first time. I thought you must be enjoying how my nightgown clung tightly to my flat tummy and the graceful curves of my young body, and how its sheer fabric was draped tight over my pert breasts.
I could see almost all of you below your chest as you leaned back in the chair. You moved your hand back onto your cock. You stroked it so gently at first, daddy. You ran your fingertips lightly over it, you traced a few circles around the bulging head, and you took the shaft between two fingers and then, starting near the bottom and moving up along its length, you just squeezed it softly, like you were gently pumping something out of it.
And then I saw what you’d milked out of it. Glistening in the moonlight, I could see a big drop of precum perched at the head of your penis, balanced right at the hole on the tip. You gave your cock another squeeze and the drop of precum grew even bigger, until it grew heavy enough to start dripping down the underside of your head.
Are you doing that again now, daddy? Are you pumping and milking sticky drops of precum out of your hard-on? I hope so, daddy.
What you did next turned me on so bad, daddy. You took one finger and started to spread your precum all over the head, massaging in circles all over that tight, swollen tip, and I could see that smooth, sticky liquid coating the head. You rubbed your fingertip on the underside a few times.
