Daddy's Dirty Girl: Bred by My Daddy 4 (taboo breeding sex) by Francis Ashe

Author:Francis Ashe
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: anal virgin, daddy daughter incest, breeding sex, step daddy fantasy, family breeding, taboo breeding, bred woman, taboo erotic romance

Chapter Five

After all the plates were clean and the baby was in bed, my daddy led me to the bedroom, and playfully tossed me on top of the pile of blankets and pillows.

The first thing I noticed was how hard his fingers felt as they drove against the knots between my neck and shoulder. I rolled my head back and forth, trying to help my daddy unkink all the tightness, relax all the stress. He uncapped a little flask and dribbled softly scented oil into his hand, rubbed his palms together and then warmed my neck with his touch.

“Rose oil,” he said when I sniffed. “Supposed to be really nice for stress. After the day you had, I think that’s probably what you need.”

I approximated a chuckle by blowing a puff of air out of my nose and turned my head so that my face hung off the bed. He squeezed for a moment longer, and then rolled his knuckles along my shoulder blade and a little under.

“Just a sec,” Peter said, “I forgot something.”

He pushed off the bed. The mattress sprung back up where he was sitting, and I just drifted. It felt good, just to be alone in this giant, cloud-like bed, all by myself. The only thing I needed that I didn’t get much of was time alone. Closing my eyes and getting a nose full of the lingering scent of his rose oil relaxed me immediately. I imagined his hands running down my spine, pushing the knots and the tension off to each side and his fingers squeezing the tension out of my lower back then down and around my waist.

I had no idea that just imagining my daddy giving me a massage would be so relaxing. I couldn’t wait for him to get back. About that – I wonder where he went. Nothing was cooking, and he already put the baby down. What could he…

Just then, the door creaked as Peter stepped back in. “Sorry princess,” he said, “I forgot these.”

He set three candles down on the bedside table immediately to my left.

“Grabbed ‘em out of your bathroom. You seem to like them, and I’m really old so I figured I could use them for a light.” He laughed at his own joke. For some reason, that – his laughing at his own bad joke – made my heart melt. That seemed to happen a lot, especially where Peter was involved.

“Anyway,” he whispered right before he bent down and kissed the back of my head, right where my hair started, “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

I heard the pop top on the oil bottle again and listened as Peter rubbed his palms together. He was humming, tunelessly, in a low voice, the way he always did when he was most relaxed.

Softly, one hand went to each of my shoulders and he began to press his fingertips very gently into the muscle. “Tell me if it’s too hard, too soft.”

I grunted a “mum-hum” as soon as I realized he was talking to me.

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