Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

“There’s only one girl left in this world for me,” he rumbles again lowly, and I can see then - just barely! - the thick swelling of a bulge in his jeans. “Here,” he says, tugging down my yoga pants further, getting them down to my ankles as he rubs at my thighs, helping part them wider.

I turn my head so that I’m staring at the arm rest. I can’t look at him as I touch myself, no matter how much I want to. It takes everything out of me not to stare at his crotch, to fantasize about unzipping his jeans and riding him, but I’m not strong enough.

It’s everything I can do just to keep from trembling as I play with my clit as he forces my legs open wider. I know he can see my pussy. My panties are red mesh, completely see through, and I want him to see what he’s done to me.

I hear his breathing getting heavier, and he gives a deep shuddering sigh as he tries to control himself.

“You look so damn good baby,” he says. “And you really know how to dress for the holidays,” he says, stroking his thumbs over my ass cheeks and then openly kneading them as he presses them apart, staring at my little show through those see-through panties. “I was dreaming all year I’d get you beneath my tree for Christmas,” he says, his voice devolving into a low growl.

I’ve never had a man watch me as I played with myself, and certainly not him. The one man that truly makes me want him. And his comment earlier about wanting to have a bunch of kids...

God, what would it be like if he knocked me up?

The thought makes me moan as my back arches and I dip my fingers lower, teasing over my soaking wet pussy lips.

“You like this?” I ask, and I’m surprised how slutty I sound.

The fire crackles a few feet away and he licks his lips, giving a low, husky ‘mmmhmmm’ in response to my question. Those big, strong hands of his keeping my round ass cheeks pried apart wide as he stares down at that red thong and my toying.

“I’d like it a little better if…” and he trails off, but when he hooks his index finger in beneath my thong between my cheeks, and tugs it aside, exposing the fullness of my little wet pink slit, there’s no doubt as to what the ‘if’ was.

“There we go,” he husks out with a relieved sigh. “Prettiest flower I’ve ever seen.”

He’s looking at my pussy. This is so wrong. It’s so dirty! And I just want more.

“Why don’t you...” I inhale. Am I really saying this? “Why don’t you touch me, daddy?”

“That’d be wrong baby,” he says, and I feel disappointment fill me. But despite his words, he doesn’t hold back. As if his hands were operating of their own accord, he slides his thumb on down, and before I know it I feel my own daddy touching my slit, tracing along that slick seam, feeling the glistening honey as he heads towards my sensitive little clit.

“Ohhh fuck honey, every little part of you is the prettiest, sexiest…” he growls out with such barely repressed male desire.

I can’t believe it! It’s like a powerful drug coursing through me, and I lift my hips, pushing my pussy desperately into his hand. It’s not enough for him to just touch me a little. I want more.

I need more!

“You feel so good,” I gasp, and I turn, glancing at him, seeing that rapt look of delight on his face. It’s so wrong, but he wants it. He wants me!

At that he stops, and I panic. Is it all over? Did I blow it? Is he having second thoughts?!

But no, he’s reaching down, pulling my pants off entirely, leaving only my long red stockings on as he leans in and kisses my round cheek before rising up again.

“You’re my little Christmas miracle, Trixie,” he says, before he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt, showing off the thick, darkly haired chest beneath, so ripped with hard, bulging muscles.

I shift, sitting up for a second as I strip off my sweater, leaving me in a matching see-through bra, my nipples so stiff they almost hurt. My ass is still throbbing with a dull pain that is all but forgotten as I look at my dad taking off his shirt. And then my eyes drop to that throbbing package hidden by his jeans, and I wonder if I could dare.

I lean forward, finding his belt buckle as I look up at him. We maintain eye contact as I unbuckle his belt, my fingers then pressing the button through the denim.

“I want you to be my first, daddy. My only.”

His eyes fill with such a smoldering passion as he looks down on me, and he strips off his shirt entirely, showing off those broad, chiseled shoulders, the trail of dark hair leading down his abs to his treasure of a manhood.

“Your first?” he growls out in surprise as I get his belt undone and see the thick bulge of his cock now only separated from me by the cotton of his boxer-briefs. “Fuck baby, I need you,” he says so forcefully and he pushes down his underwear, letting that huge, beefy shaft spring out before my eyes.

His cock is so huge and long, with just the right amount of curve to it until it comes to its thick, glistening purple crown.

I glance up at him, then back at his cock, uncertain of what to do but stare at that gorgeous tool. My breathing is so fast, and I lick my lips as I reach out to lightly touch it.

“Did you mean what you said about wanting a bunch of kids?”