The Smothering of Sasha
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Dancing In The DarkChapter 7: Loving Sasha free porn video
MORNING BROUGHT REGRET MIXED with elation. Next to me the bed was empty, the pillow dented from the impression of her head, the pear and lemon scent of her strong. How did she leave bed without waking me up? Why was she always gone? Didn't she want to cuddle?
I rolled onto my back, stretched, and yawned.
Intimacy with my daughter had progressed faster than I'd planned. It seemed I wasn't the one in control; Sasha was. I'd wanted to build towards sex in a series of increasingly intimate events, letting her discover the joys of flirting, the sweet agony of desire, the ache of love, the discomfort of damp panties and the thrill of illicit touching. I hadn't planned on my daughter having her own agenda. I hadn't even considered the possibility that I wasn't in charge of this relationship. Those email exchanges had been deceptive, bringing a misplaced sense of confidence.
My daughter was in total control. I admitted it. I had no control in this relationship. I was out-manipulated by a fourteen-year-old. With a smile, a pout, and a tease she was making me dance to the rhythm of her music. Was that the price one paid to realize a fantasy? If so it sure was worth it.
An erection formed when I remembered the promise she'd forced me to make. Intercourse. Make love together. Sex with my daughter. Tonight. My erection strengthened.
I could still feel Sasha. In the shower we'd washed each other building comfortable familiarity. I'd ogled her openly and told her how damn gorgeous she was, complimenting every bit of her I washed. Sasha's eyes had positively sparkled with delight, with pride, and with joy at being appreciated by her father.
But better by far, better than the orgasm I'd had last night, was sleeping together naked, cuddled, skin to skin. Every place on her body I touched was exciting; silky, bare skin. Our legs intertwined. All the different positions our bodies found naturally were better for being naked - my little girl so cuddly. It was beyond any fantasy I'd had. I'd never given consideration to sleeping naked together. It was almost better than sex; almost.
Rolling out of bed, I made for the bathroom hoping my erection would ease off enough to pee.
Twenty minutes later, dressed in my slumming clothes, I had another erection. It was Sasha's fault. Well ... maybe not.
Sasha was working away at the kitchen counter as I descended the staircase. Like me she'd put on sweats and a loose Tee, her hair neatly brushed back into a ponytail, her feet bare. She glanced up at me, let loose with a blindingly bright smile, and announced we were having blueberry waffles for breakfast.
The aroma of fresh brewed coffee tried to distract me and failed. Soft pink sweatpants draped suggestively on my daughter and outlined a sumptuous little ass that cried out for a grope. I eased up behind her as she stirred thick creamy batter in a large bowl, mixing blueberries in with a wooden spoon.
"Morning, Sweetheart," I said softly, bending to kiss her neck.
"Morning, Dad," she responded with a smile.
Soft amber eyes suddenly opened wide when I groped two gorgeous buttocks, the bowl of batter rattling dangerously. "Dad!" she admonished.
"Sorry," I murmured, hugging her around the waist. "I couldn't resist."
Sasha smiled. She giggled when one of my hands slipped up under her large, loose T-shirt and gently cupped her delightfully petite naked breast. I kissed her neck and murmured, "I do so love your boobs."
"Stop!" she ordered with no conviction. "I'm trying to make breakfast."
Groping my daughter was more exciting than ever. My other hand eased down. I distracted her with another kiss on her neck and a soft murmur, "I'll stop in a moment. Promise."
My fingertips eased under the waist of her sweats. Sasha started squirming against me knowing where my hand was heading. She tried to twist away and failed. I fondled soft cotton panties and cupped her pussy. I was erect again and pressed myself against her small butt.
"Stop!" she insisted and twisted again when I rubbed her cleft.
I tried to ease my hand inside her panties and that was that. Sasha jerked violently. The bowl of waffle batter tilted towards us and spilled over the counter, the floor, and splashed over Sasha.
"DAD!" she exclaimed. "Look what you did!" Her face tried for indignation, arms raised, her front covered in batter and blueberries.
"Don't move," I instructed, kneeling in front of her. With a serious expression I added, "I'll eat it off you."
A brief moment of shock was followed by Sasha bursting into laughter. She grabbed a handful of thick batter and threw it at me. That pretty much resulted in a food fight that made a shocking mess of the kitchen. Grabbing and kissing her was a slippery affair. She giggled when I suggested we shower together and refused me, my punishment for misbehaving and making a mess of the kitchen.
I waited for a couple of minutes and followed her upstairs. She laughed when I stepped naked into her shower, erection and all. It was a frisky, teasing shower, one of the most fun showers I'd ever had. I loved how Sasha tried to dodge my hands and brush them away, feigning pretend coyness. I still had an erection when we finished washing. It had poked her in several places bringing me pleasure and making Sasha laugh.
Cleanup took forever so I took her out for Sunday brunch. With a deceptive sweet smile Sasha ordered blueberry waffles, not for her but for me. She demanded I eat them, too. She was still punishing me. She knew how I disliked restaurant-made waffles. I accepted my punishment with grace; I grumped and frowned and complained, much to my daughter's delight. She grinned and emitted self-satisfied little, "Mmmm," sounds with each bite of her eggs Benedict.
Early afternoon, with a chilly, blustery autumn wind threatening rain, we window-shopped our way up Fifth Avenue until we reached Eataly NYC, Mario Batali's food market. The yeasty aroma of fresh baked breads drew me in. Sasha sighed with resignation and let me lead her inside. We strolled admiring wonderful ingredients until hitting the butcher section.
There really was no choice. I took one look at the fresh lamb shanks and dinner was set. I'd serve them with a fragrant herbed basmati rice and a simple Dijon vinaigrette salad. Sasha didn't complain once. Lamb shank was one of her favorite dishes, too.
By mid afternoon our condo was awash with succulent aromas of rosemary and onions and red wine and lamb cooking in a cast iron casserole dish in the oven. Sasha was on her iPhone chatting with a girlfriend and I was busy slaughtering the Lords of Shadows, playing Castlevania on the Xbox. Blood and gore sprayed wonderfully as I exerted my mastery in the role of Gabriel.
I heard my daughter tell her friend, "He's playing video games. No. Really. He's such a boy."
I stared at her with a frown. She grinned at me. By the time I turned back to the game I was dead, beheaded. "Fudgesickle!"
Sasha laughed. "He just died again," she told her friend. "Naw. It happens a lot." She threw me another cute grin, her beautiful eyes twinkling. "That's nothing," she continued into the phone. "You should have seen him try to shuffle dance. It was the funniest sight ever! No! I swear! He really did!"
In a huff at being dissed, I shut the game off. I'd go back to it when I didn't have a critical audience. Some adroit channel flipping and I found an NFL game to occupy me. While the hapless Kansas City Chiefs demonstrated their ineptitude, a talent they'd perfected, I considered my daughter.
Our relationship had changed. Sleeping naked together was a pretty good indicator of that. But it had changed in other ways, too. Today when we'd been out I'd been conscious of how relaxed Sasha was towards me, more relaxed than ever before. At first I worried that other people would see the way she looked at me and know we had more than a father-daughter relationship going on. But then I realized a daughter adoring her father wasn't a strange occurrence.
There was more, though. Subtle things had emerged. Sasha had become slightly possessive, drawing my attention to her when there were other pretty women around; the first hint of mild jealousy. She'd exerted more control over me, assuming a more mature attitude. I'd have corrected her behavior but the pure joy in her beautiful eyes made my heart misbehave. Her laughter and occasional giggles belied her new-found maturity, her growing confidence in herself and in my love for her.
And then there were the other things. They crackled in the air, an almost physical presence. One was the look she'd give me when she thought I wasn't watching. It was a look of love and desire that took my breath away. The other was a hint of shy excitement that would emerge in just her eyes when she thought about my promise; about us making love, sex. Those two emotions were powerful. They'd caused an on again - off again erection through the day.
I wondered if she saw a change in me. Thoughts and desires that I'd previously kept a tight rein on were slipping through now. It was impossible to look at my gorgeous daughter and not think about kissing her, or the spectacular body under her clothes that she'd let me see, just me, no one else. It was hard not to think about making love to her, sex, intercourse with my fourteen-year-old.
I'd written countless erotic stories about loving a young girl, including details conjured up by an active imagination, what I thought the physical experience would be like. But what would reality be like? What would it truly feel like to have sex with my sweet girl? I suddenly remembered how tightly her pussy gripped my fingertip and an erection formed as I inadvertently thought about penetrating her.
Shaking myself, I stood to fetch a beer and distract my thoughts. The aroma of lamb made my stomach grumble.
"Want a beer?" I asked Sasha.
She stopped talking on the phone, her eyes opening wide in surprise. "Really? I can have a beer?"
"Sure. Want one?"
"Yuh-huh," she nodded enthusiastically, immediately telling her girlfriend she'd just been offered a beer.
I grabbed a Japanese Kirin Lager and another can from the fridge. Returning to the armchair, I dropped the can of Root Beer into Sasha's lap in passing.
Sasha laughed brightly. "Dingbat!" she said and immediately told her girlfriend what a goof I was.
Dinner was delicious but slightly strained. We were both too aware of what was to happen later; the prospect of intimacy sitting at the table with us like an intrusive guest. I knew just what to do. After we ate I turned lights out, let the gas fire light the room dimly with its flickering yellow-red flames, and drew Sasha to me.
She'd changed into her loose pink sweatpants and a large royal blue T-shirt. Pink and white striped socks kept her feet warm. She looked young and cute and very desirable, her dark-burgundy hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Pretty amber eyes smiled at me. The scent of pears and lemons hit me when she eagerly stepped close, her arms slipping around my waist.
Soft music swelled from the stereo. Sasha rested her cheek against my chest and once again we were dancing in the dark, moving slowly, body to body. It started as comfort with each other, closeness, pleasure. It became intimate when I slipped my hand down my daughter's slender back and inside her sweatpants to gently cup her gorgeous ass and fondle soft cotton panties.
Like an experienced blind man I explored as we danced. Her panties were soft cotton, bikini style, small and sexy. Gorgeous firm buttocks moved sensually underneath. I re-mapped the topography of her cute tush with exploratory caresses and loved how my hand almost cupped one whole buttock, compact, dance-toned and petite, so arousing. Shifting my body slightly my thigh eased between her legs. I pulled her beautiful butt towards me and Sasha pressed her crotch to my leg. She hugged me tighter.
We moved slowly, dancing and teasing, a sexual tension building that gradually displaced the nervous anticipation that had been our dinner companion. I became erect from fondling my little girl's derrière and my erection strengthened when Sasha pressed her hip against it deliberately, demonstrating her awareness of the impact she was having on me.
She eased her face away from my chest and looked up. I looked down. Amber eyes smiled with excitement. Soft lips beckoned. The kiss started out as a tease; lips brushing against each other lightly, a promise of intimacy. I didn't know how my daughter learned to kiss like she did, but God it was sexy. Our breath mingled, warm against each other's face. Lips brushed again, and then again, and then, with a moan from her as if waiting was too painful, Sasha pressed her mouth to mine firmly.
She rose up on tiptoes. Her hand brushed against my pants, lightly touching the bulge of my erection before she reached up and circled her arms around my neck. Dancing stopped. Sasha moved and pressed her body fully against mine, her movements rubbing my erection, my hand inside her sweats caressing her butt.
Tongues touched. Her stunning eyes winked out, eyelids closing. A murmur sent chills through me and we French kissed. The kiss intensified, tongues probing, arousal storming in; kissing Sasha was so exciting. I pulled my hands out of her sweatpants and reached down, lifting her up from under her ass. Still kissing, Sasha wrapped her legs around my waist. She was light and slender and very sexy.
She was too easy to carry. When I tripped against the ottoman and our lips banged together the kiss ended. With a sigh my daughter rested her face on my shoulder and let me carry her upstairs, my excitement building with each step.
The bedroom was dark, faintly lit by city lights. I hesitated, standing in the middle of the room. I hadn't planned anything. I hadn't thought through how we'd make love, how to start, what moves to make. I just knew I wanted it to be romantic and memorable. But how? Sasha kissed my neck softly and murmured her pleasure. She let her legs relax and slipped down, solving my dilemma.
Hesitation and worries melted away. On tiptoes Sasha kissed me lightly, her eyes soft and excited. As she leaned against me I slipped both hands inside her pink sweats to grasp her sweet bottom, a quick squeeze of her gorgeous ass and my hands eased the waist down. Sweatpants collected at her ankles and, emboldened and horny, I slipped both hands inside her little cotton panties, grasped two cool sexy buttocks and pulled her tight to my groin, pressing her against the bulge of my erection.
Sasha's eyes twinkled. With an almost shy smile she eased back, reached between us and opened my belt, unhooked my pants, unzipped me, and with a gentle tug they fell to my ankles. Her smile broadened as she imitated me, working her cold hands inside the back of my boxers to hold my ass.
"Nice tush, Dad," she commented casually, a squeeze accompanying her observation.
"Darn right it's a nice tush," I agreed. She grinned at me.
Smiling back at her cheekiness, such a surprise under the circumstances, I withdrew my hands from her panties and pulled her hands out of my boxers. Taking her hand I made a move towards the bed. Forgotten pants trapped my feet.
With a rather stupid cry of surprise I fell flat on my face with a solid, ungraceful, loud thump.
My no longer favorite daughter started laughing. Maybe it was nervousness being released but her laughter became deeper as I struggled to stand. On the second attempt, after throwing her an unappreciative frown which sent her into side-splitting paroxysms, I managed to kick pants and shoes across the room and, still frowning - although a grin was now trying to escape - I approached her, evil intent in my heart. Well, not evil per se. More like naughtiness.
Pretending to want a hug I opened my arms to her. Her laughter calmed to chuckles as she kicked her sweatpants away. Holding her I did the unexpected. I lifted her easily and tossed my daughter onto the bed.
She screamed, bounced once, and burst into laughter, her beautiful eyes twinkling with pleasure, legs splayed, pussy pressing tight to pale pink cotton panties, a sexy camel toe showing.
My erection returned. She didn't move or try to close her legs, her laughter fading. Her eyes studied me, moving between watching me unbutton my shirt and the growing tent in my red-plaid boxers.
I had no shame. I felt no embarrassment. With a shove, the boxers joined my pale blue dress shirt on the floor, my erection standing proud. Sasha still hadn't moved when I crawled onto the bed. I bent and kissed her sock-clad foot and then her shin, removing her socks in the process. Staring at her in her eyes I kissed her knee.
With the touch of a butterfly landing I kissed the soft skin on the inside of her slender, splayed thigh and repeated it on the other. I actually saw arousal steal into her enchanting eyes. They narrowed slightly, intensity emerging.
I kissed the top of her thigh a little closer to her panties, glanced at her seductive mound straining up underneath, and said, "I'm gonna take your panties off, Sasha. I'm going to kiss your pussy until you beg me to stop."
Her eyes widened, perhaps surprised by the forwardness of my comment.
"And then I'm going to make love to the person I love most in this world."
"Kay." Her response was so soft it was almost silent.
For just a moment I paused to contemplate her. There's nothing more beautiful than a girl who knows she's adored by the one she loves, no matter how naturally pretty the girl is. Sasha radiated beauty and made my heart constrict. That she wanted me was still a strange and wondrous feeling.
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