Can I Call You Daddy?
By Frank Weber
She was such a beautiful young girl. So young. So sweet. So innocent. Her lips glistened from the wet shine of her burgundy lipstick.
Her eyes were powdered in violet shadows and they were lined in deep, thick black, Egyptian lines.
Her silky, lustrous raven-black hair effortlessly laid down her back, just reaching to her hips.
Her ivory-white skin held a porcelain-like shine beneath her skin-tight, tie-up black lace dress.
Everything about her made men want to want her.
But, yes, she was still so innocent.
She had barely even kissed a boy before now.
She was still so afraid.
But now here she was, twenty-three years old and sitting at a bar, tasting the passionate kisses of a fifty-year-old man as though they were timeless, ageless lovers having known each other all their lives.
She could unshackle her inhibitions when she was with him…and bury herself deep within his kisses.
His little nibbles on her bottom lip.
She felt safe with him.
She felt herself crushing on him harder and harder with every day that passed; with every chime of her phone telling her she had a text from him.
She felt herself falling for him. And she was falling so hard for him.
Yes, she was such an innocent girl, but nothing about her growing feelings ever once worried her. It didn’t even bother her that he was a couple years older than her own father.
It all felt so natural to her and that’s all she needed to understand about it. She never once paid any attention to how much like her own father he was – they were such similar men that the lines easily blurred in her mind.
She felt safe and comfortable in his arms.
Even just sitting next to him at the bar, with his arm around the back of her chair contented her. When she was with him, she felt as though no one or no thing could ever harm her.
She felt special and even entitled when she was by his side.
She had something her girlfriends could never seem to find with the boys their own age.
That was all the understanding she ever wanted or needed, and she refused to look any deeper than that, no matter what people would say.
Yet, for all of her intoxicating feelings, she was still a virgin. For all the intensifying love she was beginning to feel, she was so inexperienced that she was afraid she would say or do the wrong thing and push him away. She let him in close, but not too close. She made sure he stayed at arm’s length – no matter what the goosebumps and heart-pounds and heated rushes of blood in her body may have told her to do – she kept him just that far away. She was afraid he would think of her as too much of a ‘kid’, and not the young, vibrant sexual woman that she really was.
Still, she always heard that older men are always much more appreciative than younger guys.
She didn’t know what that meant exactly, but it piqued her interest.
It sounded like it could be a good thing for her to be in his bed.
She wanted someone to appreciate her.
She wanted to feel him appreciate her.
She was tired of all the childish games and piles of unbelievable crap that came from the guys her own age.
If they could only be more of the man her father was instead of the crude, ignorant and immature kids they actually were.
If only they could even be half the man he was, maybe…
But no matter how much she worried, he always seemed to understand exactly what she wanted. He always seemed to understand exactly how to feed her desires.
He may not have grasped all that she would ever need, but he understood her desire for the close, entwining connection with a man like him.
In the beginning, it was more about her want to ‘give the old man a try’– maybe there was something there for her, nestled deep inside his years of experiences of life?
If she could tap into it, maybe she could be happy?
Maybe she could in turn, make him happy?
So many ‘what ifs’!
She could feel the nagging ache and want just gnawing at her body whenever she saw him.
She felt the warming chills in her skin with only a simple touch of his fingers.
Even the sound of his voice in her ear was an aphrodisiac and it excited every carnal desire in her.
But for her, it wasn’t just a sexual attraction. As a matter of fact, as time went on in their affair, she had soared far beyond the physical realm since their first meeting.
She wanted his heart and his soul and she wanted to take her place by his side…and her place deep inside his heart as well.
She just knew that was her place to be.
She just knew that was where she had to be.
She was entirely smitten with the man.
He had lived so many hard, albeit enlightening years before she was even born. That didn’t concern him at all. Why would it? Why should it? Should it ever?
Yes, she was a virgin and, yes, she was inexperienced, but that concerned him even less.
He didn’t care about ‘what she knew’.
He actually did care about who she was deep down inside that luscious, toned and youthful body.
She was a Woman, not a child. Some folks despise such a difference in ages, and more to the point, they despise any man that would ever get involved with such a young girl.
He’s nothing but a dirty old man! A man like that must be pedophile!
He believed they really despised the incomplete and hollow part of themselves more than they did the explosive-sexual fulfillment he and she felt when they were together.
To him, their attacks smacked of bitter jealousies, not the high-and-mighty ‘proper’ moral values they claimed to possess.
Still, in the eyes of the present world, he was nothing more than a dirty old man and she was nothing but a poor, simple, hapless, helpless and victimized child.
The world around them did its best to dissuade the two of them from even talking with one another. It didn’t work. The harder the world around them tried to push them apart, the closer together they grew.
That same world around them did its best to cast every possible aspersion on him they could think to speak. They ended up having no more effect than rain drops bouncing off a steaming summer sidewalk.
To hear them tell the story, he was the very spawn of Satan himself, preying upon the meek and virtuous angel that she was, but it in the end, their attacks were pointless.
She really was no angel. She only lacked the benefits of the devil’s experience.
They were now almost entirely alone in the world, having only one another, and the more people tried to keep them apart, the closer they knitted and tethered themselves together.
She felt her lust for him fast turning into love and she felt it growing stronger with each passing day.
One evening, she decided that all of the anxiety and fear and uncertainty must end.
She just couldn’t stand it any longer.
She wanted him.
She wanted to please him.
She wanted him to please her.
She wanted to feel love in every way.
She imagined how wonderful it would feel for his love to throb deep inside of her body.
She had always heard – and he always said – ‘sex is the one thing you don’t have to be good at to enjoy’
She figured it was high-time she tested that theory because she didn’t know a thing about it!
In their most intimate moments, she longed for him to call her his ‘Baby Girl’ and even more than that, she just ached to be able to call him ‘Daddy’.
She didn’t understand ‘why’, she just knew it excited her.
She so wanted it to happen, but she was always afraid to ask. Just the thought of it made her giggle and blush – and usually at the most inappropriate moments.
All’s the better. And it was so risqué and taboo that it enthralled her beyond compare.
Maybe it was because it would mean her total surrender to him.
Maybe it was because she had such a powerful want to satisfy him as much as herself.
But she held her tongue and she waited for the right time.
She told herself to be patient…when the moment happened, she would know the time was right.
The more he wanted to please her and the more he took care of her, the more she wanted to give herself over to him and only him.
But he didn’t give her money to keep her interested in him. That would’ve disgusted her.
No…he gave her an unwavering affection. And he gave it to her no matter where they were and no matter who might see the display. He didn’t care. But then again, why would he?
Of course, the Gentleman in him would never allow her to want for anything, yet he would not shower her with unnecessary gifts and dollars, either. It was a most delicate balance.
He would never allow her to even pay for a dinner, unless, of course, it had a great meaning to her to do so. Then he would acquiesce. He was content to give her the happiness she wanted.
In every way, he gave her an unbridled generosity.
And now, she wanted to feel his generosity inside of her body.
She was ready.
And she wanted him more than she ever had before.
They sat together at the bar, side by side. His arm laid over the back of her chair. His fingers and hand caressed the flesh of her back exposed through the ties and knitting of her black satin dress. They had drinks and a bite to eat. They listened to the local band playing on stage. He pulled his chair closer to hers and he pulled her close to him so she was laying across his chest.
By now, she was drunk-in-love and her head was swimming with every thought of their present and their future together. She ran her hand down his chest to his lap and she gripped and rubbed his inner thigh and she allowed her fingers to roam farther than she ever had before.
He pulled her closer. He would never force her to do anything she wasn’t ready for or didn’t want to do, but he certainly wasn’t going to stop her advances when she made them.
She kissed and licked his neck and looked up into his eyes.
“I want to go to your place tonight. Let’s get a pizza and go ‘home’.”
He smiled at her.
“Ok, Baby Girl. You order the pizza now and we’ll have a couple more drinks while we wait.”
Oh, those words! He said them! He doesn’t even know what he just did!
She kissed him full in his mouth and smiled back, half-drunk, but at the same time half-scared to death.
“Take me home, Daddy.”
She was horrified by what she just said.
“Can I call you ‘Daddy’? Or is that too much?”
He kissed her and smiled into her eyes and she calmed herself.
“You can call me anything you’d like, Sweetheart.”
They got back to his apartment somewhere late in the night. The pizza box was tossed onto his kitchen table so that breakfast would be there whenever they woke up. He put on a pot of coffee and lit a few candles. Whenever they did finally get out of bed, everything would already be set and waiting for them.
She began to undress in the living room candlelight but he gently stopped her and he kissed her and held her close against him.
“Take your time, Babe. There’s no reason to rush anything. Please just relax with me. Just let yourself feel good with me.”
She nudged her nose up under his chin and they slow-danced to some old, silent love song. They swayed and held each other tight and they forgot who they were and where they were.
And they swayed across the room toward his bedroom, slowly and step-by-drawn-out-step until they were in the doorway. His bedroom was a shadowy darkness and he stopped dancing just long enough to light a couple candles on a shelf above his headboard.
He laid back on the bed and she danced for him. She danced such a slow, heathen erotic dance for him. She didn’t know where it came from or how she knew what to do, but she let it flow through her entire body. He could only see her gyrating silhouette but that was all he needed to see.
And she stripped naked for him as she danced for him.
She crawled onto the bed at his feet and clawed her way up the shimmering black satin sheets, settling in on top of him.
Her lips were over his. Her mouth was just barely open.
They shared breaths in those moments, breathing in life from one another, breathing each other’s breath into themselves. She looked down into his eyes. It seemed an eternity without a word spoken, but in his eyes, she felt as though they had already talked for ages.
She pulled herself a little farther up and onto him, her skin on his, never breaking that hyper-erotic electrical arc between their bodies.
She hesitated when she tried to speak. He saw the restraint in her eyes. “What is it, Sweetheart? What do you want to say? You know you can say anything.”
So she did and finally, after all this time, she let herself go free.
“Daddy…please call me your Baby Girl.”
“You are my Beautiful Baby Girl.”
“Am I a good Baby Girl for my Daddy?”
“You are my Good Baby Girl.” He paused and smiled at her. She smiled back at him.
Her eyes welled with tears of a joyous relief and she whispered, “I love you, Daddy!”
He didn’t answer her except to whisper, My Baby Girl.”
She slid her body back and forth on top of him until she could feel him begin to slide into her.
She began to grind on him, wanting to pull him inside of her.
He had to push in a little harder with each rock of her body, but he stayed within the pulse of the growing rhythm of her hips. He was gentle and he was careful not to hurt her. When he was fully inside her, she leaned back and let out a wail of ecstasy as she rocked her hips back and forth pulling him even deeper inside her with every stroke.
She was always told that the first time would really hurt. This wasn’t so bad!
It felt strange to her, yes, and maybe even a little foreign at first, but his cock was now deep inside of her!
How could she ever feel pain with him inside of her?
How could she ever feel pain with their loving, wanting bodies connected so intimately?
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
She rocked even harder on him and pulled his cock as deep inside her as she could.
They made love in that moment as though they had made love for years before.
They moved together even harder now, so close that they became one body in his bed.
They were both becoming more aggressive now.
Squeezing flesh and licking and sucking lips and fingers and nipples and necks, all the while, his steady, thrusting and penetrating pulse continued to work its way up inside of her.
She looked down at him and said, “Stay inside me, Daddy. Please. Stay inside me.”
He clutched her ass and held her body down on himself, and he helped her rock up even farther. His fingers slid up her sides and he held her breasts in his hands.
And he whispered, “Anything for My Baby Girl”.
With those words, she felt the orgasm beginning to blossom inside of her.
Her friends told her it wasn’t possible for a virgin to have an orgasm.
She only expected to make him cum, but now she felt the waves of vibrations and heat building inside her body, too.
She only ever expected to suck him and swallow him when she made him cum.
She only ever expected to feel him cum inside of her.
She was ready for his scent.
She was ready for his taste.
She was ready to feel him fill her body.
But she never expected to cum with him.
She suddenly found herself in a greater, much different, much more beautiful world than ever before.
She pushed down as hard as she could to keep him inside her, and force him to cum in her. When she looked down into his eyes, his expression was total animal want and lust for her. She grew hotter and felt herself losing control. She felt his body begin to tighten and pump up against her and into her even harder and when she closed her eyes, she lost herself.
She let go of everything and she came with him, riding a wave of explosive orgasms.
She fell over on top of him, totally exhausted. He held her and pulled her tight against him.
He kissed her forehead.
“My Baby Girl.”
Her eyes welled again with tears of the purest joy.
“I love you, Daddy.”
They held each other, alone together in the same world that pushed them aside.
They slept in each other’s arms until the light from the next day’s sunset flooded his bedroom.
She laid there across his chest. She felt nothing but a calm, warming bliss. He still slept, but she was wide awake, staring at his sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. He looked so happy.
She felt the same way as he did. She felt more complete now.
She gave him all that she had. She gave him her virginity.
He accepted her gift as she felt a man should and he made her feel complete.
She was safe. She was secure.
She turned every inhibition and worry loose and let herself fall hopelessly, over-the-edge-and-off-the-cliff in love with him. She rubbed her cheek back and forth on his chest and watched her fingers wander down over his body.
She looked at down at his cock with a virgin’s curiosity. It laid there on his belly.
She could see his pulse in it and she could feel it grow under her touch as her fingers lightly caressed it. His cock began to grow and harden and she felt him stir under her cheek.
He laid his hand on her back and dragged his fingers back and forth across her skin.
Her fingers tightened ever-so-slightly around his cock and she let her hand glide up and down the length of him. He was now fully hardened and he was throbbing in her hand.
She imagined the taste of him in her mouth when she gently sucked on him, and she was instantly flushed.
Her body began to tingle.
She kissed and licked his nipple and brushed her hair over his skin, dragging her face down his body, always watching his cock in her fingers. Her mouth watered with anticipation.
His body quivered beneath her with the first kiss of her lips on the head. She teasingly sucked on him with her lips, letting her tongue flick at him. Little pecks became open-mouthed kisses.
He stretched his body out a little and ran his fingers into her hair, holding her head in his hand.
She opened her mouth and lowered her head down on him.
She could feel his cock sliding over her tongue, fully into her mouth, and she loved it!
She gagged a little when he touched the back of her throat, and she let out a girlish giggle.
“It’s ok, Baby Girl. Take it in slowly.”
“Yes, Daddy.” And she closed her tongue and lips around his cock and she slowly sucked him into her soft, pillowy mouth. She couldn’t speak with him filling her mouth, but she could moan…“mmmmmmm” He could hear her humming moans and he could feel her vibrations throughout his body. He gently held her head and guided her as she bobbed up and down on him, taking his cock farther and farther into her mouth until he could feel the back of her throat.
She didn’t gag again.
She sucked him harder.
She dropped her head down on him and pushed his cock deep into her throat.
He moaned out her name and she loved the sound of it. She loved that she was getting him off.
She tightened her lips around him as she reached the tip and she licked at the bottom with her open mouth as he touched her throat.
Her own heat was now smoldering. Her hunger was now growing.
She never sucked a man and she never tasted a man and she never swallowed a man, but now she wanted every bit of it.
As she sucked him, her head bobbing, his cock tickling her throat, the anticipation grew inside her. She wanted his cum. And then when she slowed her motion to a grinding pulse on him, she could taste it beginning.
He began to swell in her mouth. She stroked the base of his cock with her fingers and she sucked him in and out of her mouth, pressing her tongue on him with every stroke.
He cried out her name.
Suddenly, she felt his cum spurting into her mouth. Her mouth was full.
She held it on her tongue and savored it – she already loved his taste!
And then she swallowed, but he wasn’t done yet.
When she sucked him some more, he came some more.
And she swallowed every drop of him that she could lick up until he was finally empty.
She gave him an orgasm so intense with her mouth that he finally had to pull her head up to stop her.
She looked up at him worried that she had done something wrong.
He sensed her worry and he comforted her in gasping breaths and words,
“Baby Girl! That was SO intense! I can’t take any more! Let me rest a minute! You are wonderful!”
She smiled and turned her attention back to his cock.
He was still hard and he was still in her fingers.
She gently played with him in long, drawn-out strokes.
He began to soften and doze under the setting afternoon sunlight.
She delicately whispered in his ear…
“I love you, Daddy.”
He weakly smiled, turned his head away and drifted off to sleep.
About Frank Weber:
Frank Weber is a freelance writer from Erie, Pennsylvania. He has been published in several print and digital magazines, local interest books and advertising campaigns as both writer and model. His work encompasses a firm conviction, a simple honesty in written word and enough of a raw edge to make people feel what they read. Website: www.frankietatts.com