The story of Natalie - Part 11: Daddy's good little slut

I took a deep breath. I wanted this. I had wanted this for a while. Daddy's little Natty was going to be a slut for him tonight. Red lipstick would be the start of the night. I was going to leave it to him to see how he ended it.

I went to him on the couch. He noticed me immediately and never took his eyes off me. I sat in his lap like a little girl sits in Santa's lap to ask for Christmas presents. Instead of expecting to get one from him, tonight, I was his Christmas present. I sat for a long moment saying nothing. My brilliant, stormy blue eyes stared into his curiously while his hands wrapped around my waist.

"Do you like me Daddy?" I broke the silence finally. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it out of his mouth. "You spoiled me so well that I wanted to spoil you a little too." My eyes peer into his and his momentary pauses encourages me to press further. "Aren't I so pretty. I'm not little Natty anymore. I'm Natalie now".

"You're beautiful" he said. Those words took a little bit to say. The internal struggle written clearly on his face. The temptation and desire within the man fighting against the protective and providing nature within the father. One side looking to devour; the other looking to protect. Truly, who could blame the man when those stormy blue eyes stare so sweetly at him and those luscious, red lips, who so quietly scream to be kissed, are just mere centimeters from his own.

The war did not last long and my dad dove hungrily in for a kiss. He's kissed me before, but never like this. This is closer to the way he kissed mom. The way he kissed a real woman. I was shocked, at first. I knew it was coming and I wanted it, but the sensation was more than I could immediately process. Just like it does in the movies, the momentary shock passed quickly, and I leaned back into his kiss. I put my hands on his face to feel his cheeks. So masculine and strong; I loved the touch of his face and the hair that grew on it.

Over the next several minutes while our lips began learning to dance together, I began to understand why the movies portray the boys as so hesitant to kiss the girl or ask her to a date. Even the man before me was unsure and hesitant. Everything's obvious, but he won't take his clothes off or try to take mine off. All I felt was his lips and his burning desire for more.

The slut had other plans.

I pulled back from the kiss and crawled out of his lap. I tugged on his shorts and pulled them off. The very cock that was part of my conception now felt the kiss of my lips. My eyes, at first, closed to take it all in, but soon, my eyes were on him for the approval. Was his little slut doing a good job? The moment his eyes rolled back in his head, I knew I was doing something right. I kept my mouth deep down his shaft and sucked slowly up and down. I knew I was doing a good job when his hands came over my face and begin stroking my hair tenderly. My hands, which were previously just resting on his thighs, reached for the part that I could not fully put in my mouth to stroke it. I could feel him stiffen and tense, and his dick continue to get stiffer and stiffer with each passing moment.

With a moan I've never heard from him make before, I suddenly feel all of him unload in my mouth. I forced myself not to choke and gag and hold it there, taking it all in. My mouth was so full that I was sure I was going to have to spit it out if he kept going. Fortunately for his clothes, I was able to swallow it all instead of coughing it back up on him.

Looking at the mess I just made of him and the red lipstick that's stained his softening cock, I look back at him and asked, "Do YOU like me daddy?"