Dirty Erotic Oneshots, Mistress_ Red [autobiographies to read txt] 📗

hers, turned his cheek to his daughter. She whispered something he couldn't hear, and started kissing his neck, running up his jawline with her tongue.

 

"Tabitha, stop! For God's sakes, stop! This isn't right…we can't!" John stood up, causing his daughter to fall to the ground. He straightened his tie, looking down at his daughter, who was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her whole body was shivering, her legs spread wide apart from the fall, one of her legs tucked under her.

 

Her father could see her white panties peeking out from her skirt, almost begging for some sort of attention. With a confused shake of his head, John started to say something to his daughter, faltered, and headed out the door. She could hear the tires of his car give a squeal as he skidded out of the driveway.

 

Tabitha put her hands to her cheeks and forehead, feeling a slight sweat and how warm her face felt. She still hadn't started breathing calmly. What was it that just happened? She gathered her books, and with weak legs got in her car to drive to school. All that day through school, her thoughts drifted to the passionate kiss she had shared with her father.

 

Of all people, her daddy. The man who made her, raised her, cared for and loved her. It was all very new to her, the feelings, but by the end of class that day, she had accepted and decided that what she felt was normal, fine, and…in her opinion, totally hot.

 

The only problem was….how did she get her Daddy to feel the same way? Tabitha rolled over onto her stomach, propping her head up on her hands, her brow furrowed in thought. That had been in the fall, and it was now mid winter.

 

All this time, she had been flaunting her body in front of her daddy, trying again to make him act the way he did that morning. The day after it happened, she had tried to talk to her father about it, only to have him leave the room before she could even describe how it made her feel. She knew her daddy had liked it, otherwise why did he let the kiss linger so long?

 

With a sigh, Tabitha slid her hand between her body and the bed, visualizing what her daddy would look like without his clothes on. With deft fingers she slipped her hand inside her panties, quickly finding her firey clit. She undressed him in her mind, or rather, made him strip for her. She visualized her father with a lustful expression, and tented business pants.

 

Yes. Coming home in his suit, loosening that tie, ripping open his shirt while she sat there with spread legs and a hand between those spread legs. Her hand moved faster, the gravity of her body on her hand crushing her hand hard against her clitoris, making her pelvis start thrusting slightly into the bed.

 

Mmmm, in her mind she had him in his underwear, no wait, make that really tight bikini underwear, yeah….and a big banana shaped outline in it. Tabitha bit her lower lip, smiling as she changed what her daddy was wearing and doing until it had her massaging her clit in a frenzy. Fantasizing that he was there, standing in front of her, masturbating…oh, stroking it fast.

 

Tabitha mouthed the words she was thinking, do it daddy, do it, stroke it fast for your girl. Her hips were rotating now, her mouth wide open, her pussy getting closer to releasing that pressured heat. Her tongue curled inside her mouth as she came, giving little grunts of pleasure quietly.

 

Her fingers were soon soaked with her slippery wet cum. A soft creak murmured outside of her half opened door, causing Tabitha's eyes to fly open. She saw a shadow pass by the door, big enough to be her daddy's. She knew her mother didn't get home until later, and wondered how long her daddy had been near the door, and if he had stopped to listen or even watch.

 

"Mmmm," Tabitha moaned with a smile, turning over onto her back, her hand remaining deep in her panties. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, biting down, as she thought dirty things about her daddy. Maybe he had touched himself at the door, watching her. She had to find out. With reluctance, she got off her bed and crept to her door, pushing it open wider. The hallway was empty, dark and very silent. She walked over to her parent's room, being careful to avoid the telltale creaks in the wood floor.

 

Strange, her father's door was shut. Her parents always had it open. Tabitha pressed her face against the cool painted surface, trying to listen. She breathed as quietly as she could, her eyes narrowing as she listened. She was about to give up, when she heard a soft grunt. Tabitha smiled, wondering but having a pretty good idea what her daddy was doing in there. She tiptoed away, her hand tight over her mouth to keep her pleased giggles from giving herself away.

 

The next day, Tabitha chose her outfit especially geared to get her father to at least look at her differently. She pressed her hands against the front of her pleated black skirt, pushing it flat against her thighs. It barely covered her pert little ass, certainly it didn't cover much when she was moving. She looked into the full-length mirror at her ass, flipping her skirt up to show her tiny lace panties.

 

The bra was a sheer lace, dark against her creamy skin, thin enough in parts for her nipples to show through. She put a white short sleeve shirt over it. Looking in the mirror, she could see her bra right though the white thin material. Tabitha swayed gently from side to side, her hands playing over her firm breasts, checking to see if the bra was pushing them up enough.

 

She had decided to wear her hair down, and applied dark makeup around her eyes, giving her gaze a sultry feel. With a deft move of her hand, her lips became a glossy wet tone. Tabitha looked one last time in the mirror, her hands running under her skirt to feel up her leg and to the cleft of where her ass and thigh met, for smoothness. Very smooth, cool legs to the touch, just as they needed to be for times when they are wrapped around someone's head.

 

Her mother was out of the picture, away for the weekend, visiting her sick aunt. Normally Tabitha would have gone with her mother to visit her relative, but for this weekend she had other, more active plans. Checking her clock on the wall, she saw that her father had to be home by now. She skipped down the steps, her heart thudding in her chest with anticipation.

 

"That you, sweetie?" Her father called.

 

"Well, it's not Mom, for sure," taunted Tabitha.

 

Her father shook the newspaper he was reading, and looked up at her. His dark eyes loitered on her body perhaps a bit longer than what was fatherly. The places he looked at the longest on her, were certainly not a fatherly thing to do. As soon as his gaze had connected on his daughter, he swallowed, his head shaking a bit as he looked her up and down. John licked his lips before he spoke.

 

"Isn't that attire, a little risqué?" John ventured.

 

"Well shit, Daddy, all the girls wear it at school," Tabitha replied with pursed full lips.

 

"Young lady, you will not speak like that in this house, and certainly not to your own father," John admonished. She threw her head to the side, looking at the ceiling with a bit of girly defiance. Her father watched her, carefully placing the newspaper over his lap, as she sauntered over to the couch he was sitting on. God, how her hips swayed.

 

Every step Tabitha took she made sure to exude sex. There was no denying in John's mind that his daughter was very grown up, and very much like a cat in heat.

 

"Oh daddy, don't be a silly little stud," Tabitha purred. Her father looked confused at her reference to 'stud' but refrained from commenting on it. She had moved over to the arm of the couch, and sat upon it, her legs leaning over the side. With a temptuous smile, she raised one leg up, so that she could rest an arm on her knee.

 

Her socks were black to match her skirt, mid calf, wickedly tight around her muscular legs. From her new position, her daddy could see most of her underwear, but couldn't see all of it, the black lace fading into her black skirt. He would have to stare in order to make anything out, and he knew that would be very obvious. With a gulp, John continued to watch his daughter move on the couch's arm, until she was straddling it, looking over her shoulder at him.

 

"What are you reading, Daddy?" Tabitha questioned. She slowly started rubbing her lower region against the arm, propping her upper body up with her arms. Her movements were small, but noticeable to John. Her mouth opened a little, her pink tongue running itself over the front of her teeth. A sweat suddenly appeared on her father's forehead.

 

"Just some news, darling. I mean, Tabitha." John stuttered.

 

"Hmmm, you can call me darling, daddy. You can call me a lot of other things too, if you have a mind for it," His daughter whispered

 

"What was that?" John managed to croak out. His hand settled on the paper, making sure it was planted firmly on his crotch. It seemed Tabitha was finally having the desired affect on his body. Her father was a man after all, and his daughter was being utterly devious with what she was doing to the arm of the couch.

 

Tabitha had increased the rhythm she was applying to the couch, her pussy getting wet from the friction, the hardness of the couch pressing high up against her clit. By now her skirt had rose above her thighs, gathering in the front of her, between her legs. Her shapely ass was in full view to her father, the twin globes flexing with her movements.

 

John watched in alarm as his daughter, with her head turned, licked her own bare arm. What in the hell was his daughter doing? And why was she doing it looking at him? He held the newspaper in front of him, rushing into the kitchen, saying something about needing a drink.

 

Tabitha smiled, quickly running a hand down to rub at her pussy through her panties, then got off the couch to follow her poor, desperate daddy. As she walked towards the kitchen, she made sure to undo a few of the top buttons to her shirt. Her breasts were held high by the bra, the rounded tops jiggling slightly as she walked into the kitchen.

 

Her father was pouring himself a glass of brandy, his hands shaking slightly. As he heard the click of shoes on the kitchen tile, he turned slowly, one hand holding the glass, the other moving to cover his front with the newspaper. Although he tried to look nervously away, he couldn't help but watch his daughter's slow cat-like walk towards him.

 

Tabitha did walk slow. In fact, she milked every move of her hips, and every throb of her pussy between her legs. If this was going to happen, it was going to be as hot, as wet, and as perfect as she could make it.

 

Her seductive look was trained on her father's face, watching him like a prey. She had never been so aggressive in her life. Frankly, it made her twice as hot to pursue her father in this way. She was going to have him, whether he wanted to or not.