Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

“Mmhmm,” he says before casually taking a sip of his own wine, looking over to Samantha. “My Blaire’s never told you about what I do before?” he asks, shooting me one of his dashing, half-smiles, that so woo the ladies. I know he’s had numerous ones hitting on him since my mother died, but he’s never so much as taken one out for a date that I’m aware of.

He’s pretty private, I know, and I’m busy, but he’s the type of person who’d probably talk to me about it. I assume anyways.

“I told her,” I say with a roll of my eyes and Samantha gives me a little warning glare, but she never heeded mine. Besides, I don’t know why, but it’s making me angry seeing her flirt with him.

“She just wants to hear it from you,” I add on.

Dad’s smile only grows and he taps a ringed finger along his glass as he looks between us then out over the swimming pool. He takes his time, sipping his wine before looking on back.

“I broke away from my old company years ago, started my own firm. More responsibility, more control, more of the pay that comes in. Works for me, usually,” he says. “Means I can do something like this, and take off in the middle of the day to drink wine with two go

rgeous ladies by the pool, whenever I see fit.”

“Not that he ever does,” I say, and I sound more sullen than expected. I take a sip of my drink before turning my back on the two of them to hide the dark look on my face. I down the rest of my wine, hoping it’ll make me feel less terrible as I reach out and finally grab my bikini top.

“That’s so amazing, Mr. Cartwright,” Samantha says, sounding so interested.

My father takes a generous mouthful of his wine, and before I can get anywhere close to putting my top back on, he gets up and sits down on my lounging seat, placing his hand upon my calf and stroking my leg to my ankle.

“You’re right, my angel,” he says so smoothly, “I should have taken my liberties more often. It’s funny how you don’t realize that until it’s almost too late,” he says, smiling from Samantha over to me, looking warm and loving and… something else, I can’t quite place.

I’m breathing hard by this point and I can’t see Samantha anymore, but I can smell my daddy’s cologne, and the wine’s hitting me pretty hard. I haven’t eaten anything all day.

I don’t know what to say, what to do. It’s like I’m stunned in place.

His hand touches my warm, sunbaked skin, and I shiver.

“It’s fine,” I manage.

“It’s fine to neglect such a lovely lady?” he says, looking right at me with those intense, green eyes of his, squeezing my leg a while as we lock gazes. Only then does he slowly turn his attention back to Samantha. “It’s not right for a man to neglect the most important woman in his life, now is it Samantha?” he asks.

“No, Mr. Cartwright. A man should tend to the women he cares for. First and last,” she says so sultrily, such meaning to her words as she strokes her free hand along her hip and down her thigh a little, drawing his gaze there before he tears it away to smile back at me.

She’s making me really flustered. Or maybe it’s the sun, and the wine, but I’m suddenly feeling really dizzy, and I have to blink to clear my vision. It’s all still spinning, and I drop my hands to the side of the chair, gripping there for a moment as I take in deep breaths, oblivious to my partial nudity, to the exposed tanned breasts and their pale, pink nipples.

Daddy reaches out to me, and for a brief, hazy moment I think he’s going to grab my exposed breasts, but instead he cups my cheek, strokes his thumb along my skin, so loving and tenderly. Like years ago when I was just a child.

“I really don’t want to see you go, my sweet angel,” he says in that deep, dark voice of his, so full of emotion. “I know it’s selfish, and a father’s supposed to be happy about his girl going out into the world, but if I could only convince you… I’d keep you here for all time. Whatever it took,” he says, taking another sip of his wine before laying the glass aside and looking to Samantha. “But then, I can’t expect my girl to stay here with me while all her friends go off to college, away from here, leaving her alone, can I Samantha?”

“Well it wouldn’t be fair,” she says, though honestly, that burning jealousy that keeps growing brighter is making me think that what she really thinks isn’t fair is him being next to me. Touching me.

I just have to breathe, and I’m trying to focus on him, but I can’t. My eyes flit over his beautiful eyes, his full lips, locking there for a while before I finally murmur, “I don’t feel good.”

Daddy looks at me, and I can see the sympathy in his eyes even through the tipsy haze of the wine. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead in a tender kiss.

“Too much wine, sweetie? Sorry, I should’ve known you were too good a girl, no experience with alcohol,” he says, brushing back my blonde hair and looking at me tenderly. “It’s a good thing you’ve got a friend like Samantha, who doesn’t tempt you into doing things you shouldn’t then. Getting mixed up with too many bad boys.”

Either it’s a pointed remark because he overheard her earlier or not, I can’t tell.

“Oh, I’m the best, Mr. Cartwright,” Samantha says, still trying to tempt him away, her hand placed on his shoulder. “Seriously. Maybe little Blaire should head up to bed and we can polish off the bottle together.”

There’s an anger in me and I’m trying to ignore it as I push myself up. “Yea, I’ll just go,” I say, and I don’t know what I want or hope to happen. I don’t want Samantha to fuck my dad, though, I know that much. But I don’t want him to fuck her, even more.

But much to my surprise, daddy sweeps me off my feet — literally! — and picks me up into his strong arms with such ease. He ignores Samantha entirely, with her big tits, and casual charm, as he carries me over towards the house.

“You should probably head home now, Samantha. I have to see to my girl now. I don’t think she’s taking to the wine,” he says, smiling at me as he takes me to the house.

I know it’s relief that I’m feeling in my chest though I don’t know why, not really. I suck in my lower lip and decide to just not question it for the time being, as I curl into his arms, the top of my bikini long forgotten.