Daddy’s Little Kitten Begged for a Puppy

Daddy, can I have a puppy? I asked suddenly, peering over my laptop at my dad from across the living room. The late afternoon sun was pouring through the big bay windows of our suburban house, painting golden stripes across the hardwood floor and making the dust motes dance like tiny sparks. I’d been thinking about it for weeks, ever since the last of Mom’s old things had finally been boxed up and hauled away. The house felt quieter now, emptier in some ways, but warmer in others—especially whenever Daddy was home.

“No, Kitten,” he said distractedly, eyes still locked on the thick hardcover in his lap. His deep voice rumbled through me the way it always did, low and steady, the kind of voice that could soothe a storm or start one. I slipped off the couch and army-crawled across the rug on my elbows, the soft fabric of my tiny sleep shorts riding up until the lower curves of my ass were bare. When I reached his lounge chair I planted my hands on his knees and tipped my face up, putting on the most pathetic pouty expression I could manage.

“Pleaaaaase?” I dragged the word out, batting my lashes and giving him the full puppy-dog eyes. He lowered the book just enough to look at me over the top of it, one dark eyebrow arching. Those green eyes of his—still so sharp at forty-three—flicked down the length of me for half a second before snapping back to my face. A little shiver raced up my spine.

“Kitten, you’re eighteen years old, not five,” he chuckled, but the sound was rough around the edges. I felt it right between my legs.

“It didn’t even work when I was five,” I grumbled, pouting for real this time. I turned around and sat with my back against his shins, letting my head tip back until it rested between his thighs. The heat of him soaked through the denim. I heard the soft thud of the book closing. A second later his strong hands slid under my arms and hauled me up onto his lap like I weighed nothing. My ass settled against the solid muscle of his thighs and I felt the unmistakable half-hard shape of his cock press right up against the cleft of my cheeks through the thin cotton of my shorts.

“What kind of dog?” he asked cautiously, chin resting on the top of my head. His arms wrapped around my waist, big hands splayed across my stomach. I could feel every callus, every ridge of his knuckles.

“A Yorkie,” I grinned, wriggling just enough to feel him thicken. “A small one. Soft and fluffy and all mine.”

“You had one before,” he said quietly. The memory of Mom’s last drunken night hung between us for a second—the screech of tires, the silence afterward—but neither of us said it out loud. Instead he tightened his hold and pressed a kiss into my hair.

“Okay, Kitten. Tomorrow we’ll go find you a Yorkie.”

I squealed and twisted in his lap, throwing my arms around his neck. My lips brushed the corner of his mouth before I could stop them. The contact was electric. I froze, heart slamming against my ribs, then scrambled off him with a breathless “Thank you, Daddy!” and fled upstairs before I did something even more obvious.

Behind me I heard him exhale like he’d been holding his breath for a year.

I sat in the dark living room long after Kitten’s footsteps disappeared upstairs, staring at the empty doorway. My cock was a rigid, aching bar against my zipper. The ghost of her soft little body still burned against my thighs. Those pink lips lingering near mine. The way her ass had nestled against me like it belonged there.

I was a sick bastard for thinking about my own daughter this way. Eighteen. Legal. Grown. But still my baby girl. Still the same little thing who used to climb into my bed after nightmares and press her face into my neck. Only now those nightmares were gone and the body pressed against me was all soft curves and smooth skin and the faint sweet scent of her lotion.

My hand moved on its own. Button. Zipper. The thick, heavy weight of my cock sprang free into the cool air. I gripped it hard, stroking once from root to tip, smearing the bead of precum that had already leaked out. In my mind she was still on my lap, grinding, whispering “Please, Daddy” in that soft needy voice. I lasted maybe thirty seconds before thick ropes of cum pulsed over my fist and onto my stomach. Shame flooded me the second the last spurt landed, but the shame only made my cock twitch again.

I cleaned up, showered until the water ran cold, and still went to bed hard.

The next morning I woke early, already buzzing with excitement. I dug through my drawer until I found the tiny white string bikini I knew drove him crazy. The top was barely two triangles of thin fabric held on by skinny ties; the bottoms were a thin strip that disappeared between my cheeks and stretched tight over my freshly shaved mound. I checked myself in the mirror—long wavy brown hair tumbling over my shoulders, C-cup tits pushing the triangles out, hips flared just enough, legs toned from all those morning laps. Eighteen and already knowing exactly what I wanted.

I padded downstairs barefoot. Daddy was at the kitchen table with coffee and the paper, still in his soft gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt that clung to his chest. His eyes lifted, then dropped, then lifted again like he was fighting himself.

“Morning, Daddy!” I sang, bouncing on my toes so everything jiggled. I felt his gaze lock onto the sway of my tits and the way the bottoms dug into my pussy lips.

“I can’t wait to get our puppy,” I said, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. The cold air made my nipples tighten into hard little peaks that pressed visibly against the white fabric.

“Swim first, Kitten. Then we’ll go.”

I grinned and skipped out the back door, dropped my towel on a chair, and dove into the pool. The water closed over me like a cool silk sheet. I swam hard, lap after lap, feeling the burn in my shoulders and the way the water rushed between my legs every time I kicked. When I finally hauled myself out I was panting, skin gleaming, bikini soaked and translucent. I lay back on the warm concrete, eyes closed, fingers tracing idle circles over my stomach. One fingertip slipped under the edge of the bottoms and brushed my clit. A soft moan escaped before I could stop it.

“Kitten.” Daddy’s voice came from the doorway. I sat up fast, blushing, but the heat between my legs only got worse when I saw the way his sweatpants tented.

“Coming, Daddy.”

I left the towel outside on purpose. The air-conditioning hit my wet skin the second I stepped inside and my nipples went diamond-hard. Daddy was back in his chair with the book again, pretending not to watch me. I crept up behind him, planning to scare him, but he spun the chair and yanked me into his lap before I could even jump. I landed with a squeal, straddling one of his thick thighs, my soaked bottoms pressed right against the hard ridge of his cock.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Kitten,” he murmured against my shoulder, kissing the damp skin. His hand settled on my waist, thumb stroking just under the string of my top. I stayed perfectly still, feeling him throb under me. Slowly, deliberately, I shifted so that the thick shaft nestled right between my ass cheeks. A soft, involuntary purr rolled out of my throat.

Daddy’s whole body went rigid.

My cock was trapped against the soft, wet heat of her barely-covered pussy and the perfect split of her ass. She had just fucking purred. Like a real kitten. My hand slid higher on its own, fingers tracing the underside of her breast through the soaked triangle. Her nipple was so hard it stabbed my palm. I lifted my hips once, grinding the length of my dick against her, and she wriggled right back, a tiny needy sound escaping.

“Daddy?” she whispered, voice dreamy.

“Yes, Kitten?”

“My legs hurt from swimming. Will you rub them for me?”

I should have said no. I should have stood up and put distance between us. Instead I scooped her into my arms and carried her straight to my bedroom. She was light and warm and smelled like chlorine and girl and something sweeter underneath. I laid her on my big bed and started at her feet, thumbs digging into the arches, working slowly up her calves. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted. When I reached her thighs she opened them for me without being asked.

The white fabric of her bottoms was plastered to her pussy, the outline of every soft lip clear, a dark wet patch spreading right over her clit. My mouth watered. My cock strained so hard against the sweatpants it hurt.

“Higher, Daddy,” she breathed.

I massaged higher, thumbs brushing the sensitive crease where thigh met hip. Her hips rolled. A tiny whimper. I couldn’t stop looking at that soaked little patch. My fingers trembled as they finally slid under the edge of the fabric and touched bare, silky-smooth skin.

She sat up so fast I almost pulled away. Then her hands went behind her back and the bikini top fell open. Perfect, perky C-cups spilled free, nipples dark pink and tight. She tossed the top aside and looked at me with those big brown eyes, completely unashamed.

“It was too tight,” she said softly. “I couldn’t relax.”

I groaned her name like a prayer and a curse at the same time. My hands cupped both tits, thumbs sweeping over the nipples, rolling them. She arched into the touch, pushing more of herself into my palms. When I pinched she gasped and her thighs squeezed together around my wrist.

I dragged the bottoms down her legs and threw them. She was completely naked on my bed—eighteen, virgin, my daughter—pussy smooth and glistening, the little slit already shiny with arousal. I pushed her knees wider and stared. Pretty pink lips, a tight little hole that fluttered when I breathed on it, a swollen clit peeking out from under its hood.

“Kiss me, Daddy,” she whispered.

I crashed my mouth onto hers. She tasted like mint toothpaste and pure need. My tongue fucked past her lips while my hand slid between her legs and cupped her whole pussy. She was soaked. I parted her folds with two fingers and rubbed slow circles over her clit until her hips started fucking the air. Then I kissed down her throat, across her collarbone, and latched onto one hard nipple, sucking deep while I kept rubbing that swollen little pearl.

“Daddy—oh God—”

I switched to the other nipple, teeth grazing, then kept going lower. Open-mouthed kisses over her stomach, the soft mound, until my tongue finally dragged through her slit from bottom to top. The taste of her exploded across my tongue—sweet, musky, addictive. I groaned into her cunt and started eating her like a starving man. Flat tongue sweeping up, pointed tip circling her clit, lips sealing around it to suck. Two fingers eased inside her. She was impossibly tight. I felt the thin barrier of her hymen and my cock jerked so hard precum leaked down the shaft.

“You’re a virgin, Kitten?”

She nodded, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. “Only for you, Daddy.”

Pride and filthy lust warred in my chest. I curled my fingers against her front wall and sucked her clit harder. Her thighs clamped around my head. Her back bowed off the bed. A broken cry tore out of her as her pussy clamped down and a rush of sweet cream flooded my mouth. I kept licking through every pulse, drinking her, until she was shaking and pushing at my shoulders.

I stood, stripped in two seconds, and let my cock spring free. Thick, veined, the head flushed dark and already dripping. Seven and a half inches of pure need. Kitten’s eyes went wide. She slid off the bed onto her knees without being told, wrapped both small hands around the shaft, and licked the head like it was candy.

“Fuck, baby…”

She opened wider and took me into the wet heat of her mouth. I tangled my fingers in her hair and guided her deeper, watching those pretty lips stretch around my girth. When I hit the back of her throat she gagged softly but didn’t pull off. Spit ran down her chin. I fucked her mouth in slow, deep strokes, praising her the whole time.

“That’s it, Kitten. Good girl. Suck Daddy’s cock. Take it all the way. You’re doing so fucking well.”

Her free hand slipped between her own legs, rubbing her clit while she bobbed. The wet sounds of her sucking filled the room. I felt my balls draw up tight. I pulled out just in time, stroking hard, and painted her tongue, her lips, her tits with thick white ropes. She swallowed what landed in her mouth and licked the rest off my fingers when I fed it to her.