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Commented 17 hours ago
"She still wanted her good-night kiss. Even at eighteen, my adopted daughter would pad into my room in her thin pajama pants and tank top, climb onto the bed beside me, and wait. The forehead kiss had long since stopped being enough. Now she needed the kiss lower-on the soft skin of her collarbone, the curve of her small breast through the fabric, the warm plane of her stomach. I gave her what she asked for. Lips, tongue, slow and careful, until the tension in her shoulders eased.The massage came next. She would roll onto her back, knees slightly parted, and I would settle between them. At first it was just the hard length of my cock, still trapped in my own pants, grinding slowly against the heat of her crotch. Back and forth, deliberate, the thick ridge dragging over the soft mound and the faint outline of her slit. She sighed every time, eyes fluttering shut, the day's stress melting out of her like wax. "Daddy's massage," she whispered. "It makes everything go away." On the fifth night she came to me with a deliberate change. A neat little hole cut into the front of her pajama pants, right over her bare pussy. No panties. Just the smooth, warm folds waiting. She didn't say a word. She only climbed onto the bed, spread her legs a little wider, and looked at me with quiet trust. I didn't hesitate. I freed my cock, already heavy and leaking, and guided the thick head through the hole. The first slide of bare skin against bare skin made her shiver. I settled the length along her slit, the underside pressing firmly against her clit, and began to grind. Slow. Deep. The fat shaft spreading her lips, the head nudging her entrance on every forward rock. She was already wet enough that the motion was slick and easy. "Feel that?" I murmured, voice low. "That's chi, baby. My energy moving into your channel. Your chakras are opening for me." She whimpered, hips rolling up to meet the next stroke. "Yes... I feel it, Daddy." "I can feel your chakra getting hungrier for my chi." I kept the rhythm steady, the blunt head kissing her entrance on every pass, never quite pushing in. "It's pulling harder every night." By the weekend she was soaked before I even touched her. The moment my cock settled into the hole and began its slow, grinding drag, her thighs trembled. She clutched at the sheets, breath coming in soft, broken sounds. "More chi... please..." I leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. "If I give it to you the proper way-straight into your channel-you might get pregnant. My chi is strong. It wants to root deep." She didn't freeze. She spread wider, grinding up harder, the wet heat of her cunt coating the underside of my cock. "I don't care. Give it to me. Please, Daddy." I believe she thought I was only teasing. Playing along with the energy talk. So when I finally angled my hips and sank the thick head past her entrance in one smooth, deliberate thrust, the sound she made was pure shock. Not just the stretch. Not just the sudden fullness of her tight little cunt swallowing every inch. Something else. The moment I bottomed out, her whole body seized. Her back arched, a broken cry tearing out of her throat as an orgasm slammed through her so hard her vision went white. Cosmic. That was the only word that fit the way she shook. Her walls fluttered and clenched around me in frantic pulses, milking, pulling, like her body had been waiting years for exactly this. I stayed buried, smiling down at her as she trembled and gasped and came apart under me. Proud. Patient. When the worst of the shaking passed and she collapsed into the mattress, limp and dazed, I began to move again. Slow, deep strokes. Every withdrawal dragged my length along her sensitive walls; every thrust filled her completely, the heavy head kissing her cervix. I poured more of that chi into her-thick, steady pulses of it-while she whimpered and clung and came a second time, softer but no less thorough. People get strange about fathers and daughters. They invent rules that have nothing to do with the quiet, private reality of a girl who still needs her daddy's good-night ritual. This was still that ritual. Only improved. Age-appropriate. Necessary. When I finally finished, flooding her with the last of my chi in long, heavy spurts, she only sighed and held me tighter, legs locked around my waist as if she never wanted the channel to close. "Same time tomorrow?" she whispered against my neck, already half-asleep, still full of me. I kissed the top of her head, then the soft skin of her shoulder, then the flushed swell of her breast. "Always."" |
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