Call Me Daddy

I want to tell her how amazing it feels not to be a virgin anymore. I want to tell her how Daddy Nick loved me so hard.

But first I need to pee.Daddy Nick follows me into the bathroom, he takes my hands as I lower myself to the toilet, as though I need help. My legs are unsteady, but not that unsteady. I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He pulls some toilet paper from the roll and presses it between my legs.

There’s more blood when he wipes me. He holds the paper so I can see the stain.

“It’ll stop soon,” he says, but I’m not worried. I’m more worried that I need a pee.

“I need to go,” I tell him.

He doesn’t move at all. “We have no secrets, remember?”

My cheeks burn at the thought of Daddy Nick watching me pee. Even though he’s seen inside me, and felt in there, and his cum is dripping out of me right now, it still feels so icky to pee in front of him.

“No secrets, Laine,” he repeats. “Daddy wants to see.”

“You want to watch me… pee?” I ask him, sure I must be wrong, but he nods.

“Daddy wants to see everything.” He puts his hands on my knees and pulls them apart, and I can’t go, not while he’s watching. A tiny little trickle drips into the toilet, and his eyes are dark again.

I can’t believe he wants it, but he does.

I feel so tickly at the thought. Squirmy as he puts his fingers down there and spreads me open.

“Show Daddy, Laine.”

“But I…”

“Laine,” he says, and it’s stern. “No secrets.”

I don’t want secrets from Daddy. Even if they are icky ones.

I have to close my eyes to pee. It’s so hard to make myself go, but once I start I can’t stop. It comes out in a stream, splashing into the water underneath, and I’m sure some of it must go on Daddy’s fingers but he doesn’t care. It gives me tickles. Strange tickles right the way through me.

“Not so bad, is it?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, Daddy.”

My pee sounds so loud as it lands. My cheeks feel so hot as he stares.

And then I finish, and it’s a relief. I reach for the toilet paper but he’s there first. He tears some off and wipes me. Daddy Nick wipes my pussy it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I shouldn’t like it. I’m sure I shouldn’t like it. But I do.

“All clean,” he tells me, and his eyes are smiling. He kisses me quick before he reaches for the flush, and his cock is hard again as he gets to his feet.

I must look scared as I stare at it, because he laughs as he pulls me up.

“Bedtime,” he tells me. “I think my little girl’s had more than enough cock for one day.”

I’m only half relieved.NickWiping Laine’s sweet pussy is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the ways I want to take care of my little girl. Now I’ve had a taste of her secrets I only want more. I want everything from her.

It’s beautiful, her willingness to please me even when she thinks I’m being so icky.

I love being icky with Laine. Love pushing her boundaries.

I slide into bed beside her, my cock already hard for more, but it won’t be tonight. She’s taken enough.

She sighs as she snuggles against me, and I kiss her hair. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Daddy Nick.”

I’m Daddy Nick again, but that’s ok. I hold her so tight and she drifts off to sleep so much more quickly than usual. Her breath is quiet but steady, and just being next to her soothes me. I never want to let her go.

I love my sweet little Laine more than I’d have ever imagined. It’s more than desperation for a life less lonely than the one I’ve been living for so long.

It’s in her quiet grace. Her sweet smile. Her easy laugh. It’s in the way she’s so kind, the way she cares for me, looks up to me, the way she appreciates everything I do for her. The way she’s so keen to please me. So keen to be mine.

I love Laine because her bad start hasn’t made her bitter, or hostile. It hasn’t closed her down to love or made her suspicious. She’s still a sweet, soft soul with a warm heart.

She’s my beautiful girl. The one bright star on a cloudy night.

I drift off to sleep so soundly in her arms.Chapter NineteenLaineI wake up in Daddy Nick’s arms. No college. No work. It makes me smile to find him still sleeping.

I’m not a virgin. I’m not a virgin. I’m not a virgin.

I feel different. Squiggly inside.

Happy.

I roll over to face him, and he stirs but doesn’t open his eyes. I stare at him, just because I can. It’s a guilty pleasure, staring without him knowing. Like I’m spying, chasing secret glances.