A literotic sexstories: Suffocating Summer_(0) by SummersDaddy ,
This is a work of fiction and fantasy. Don’t try this at home.
I held my little girl between my bended knees and asked if she slept well. Apparently Charles – her stuffed toy – had kept her warm and safe from the monsters under the bed. She had a very fertile imagination and started off with another wild story about Charles protecting her with magic, before noticing the bowl with the leftover pancake batter on the sink. Her story stopped mid flow, her attention focused elsewhere now. Always such a sweet tooth. She grabbed the bowl and stuck the little fingers of her tiny, delicate hands in to it. Bringing them to her mouth, she began licking them clean one by one. The way she was licking them… It wasn’t quite… Normal. I know that it sounds bad and very much like I’m some sort of pervert, but it just looked so sensual. She was licking the batter off her fingers slowly, sucking each one deep in to her mouth. Her sparkling eyes stayed fixed on mine. It felt as though she was teasing me, and if she were ten years older – I’d be certain that she was. Turning away from her and facing the kitchen counter, I surreptitiously reached in to my undershorts and adjusted myself.
When she was done with the batter we sat down and ate the pancakes I’d made. Without my wife here to make sure the shopping and errands were done we were unfortunately running out of syrup, so I had my pancakes plain and squeezed out everything that was left on to hers. Her soft little lips glistened with the sweet, sugary glaze while we sat and chatted about the day to come. A string of syrup hung from the corner of her mouth as she fed herself another delicious forkful, and my mind flashed with uncomfortable thoughts. I turned on the TV to distract myself, and we watched a little morning television. Some kids show with colourful puppets played, while I ironed and pressed her smart school uniform to the best of my abilities. The time was passing quickly and before I knew it, it was 8:30. The school day started at 9:00. When I told Summer that she needed to get dressed right away, she just looked at me helplessly. Of course, mommy usually dresses her. Summer could be very lazy sometimes, and put on her trademark bratty pout when I suggested that she was old enough to dress herself.
Not wanting her to get in to one of her difficult moods (or I’d never be able to get her to school), I relented. I held up her blouse, beckoned for Summer to come over, and she was all smiles again. With my large hands lifting up her thin white vest, she clasped her own over her small nipples as quickly as they were exposed. It was silly, really. She doesn’t even have anything to cover yet but the tiniest of little bumps. I laughed, said she was a silly little angel, told he that Daddy had seen it all before and there was nothing to hide. With that she relaxed and dropped her hands. Her skin was so smooth and soft, her pinkish nipples so slight. I took each of her thin arms and threaded them through the sleeves of her blouse then fastened it up, my thick fingers struggling momentarily with the tiny buttons. After this she stepped in to her little grey, pleated skirt and I pulled it up, yanking it over the miniature globes of her perfectly formed little ass. I reached for the socks, but Summer insisted that the panties were next.
Having figured that Summer would have them in her room and change in to fresh underwear herself, I didn’t have any ready. As we were in somewhat of a hurry I told her that she could just wear what she already had on under the skirt but she stubbornly declined, making the excuse that she’d slept in them already and that it was gross to wear underwear twice. Reaching up beneath the pleated folds of her short school skirt, Summer plucked the sides of the pink panties and pulled them down her soft, hairless thighs and over her immature, childish, thin legs. She discarded them on the floor and looked at me expectantly. As I reached to pick them up I instructed her to go and find some fresh ones in her undies drawer.
When she ran off upstairs I took her still warm underwear in my hand and, resisting the sudden absurd urge to smell them, put them with all the other laundry and stuffed the lot in to the machine. Man, I needed my wife back home.
I returned to the living room and Summer was already back downstairs. She didn’t have any underwear, said sullenly there were none, that the pink ones were her last pair and that she’d have to wear them. Unfortunately it was a little too late and they were already soaking and spinning around in the washing machine. At this revelation, the bratty pout returned and Summer retorted that her mom would have had things washed and ready. She questioned why I didn’t and I looked from the clock to her indignant glare and sighed. I eased myself down on to the couch, pulled her in to the spot next to me and stroked her long hair. It almost always calmed her down when daddy played with her ears and her hair, and stroked her cheeks softly. Trying to ignore the time, I patiently told Summer I was sorry and that I wasn’t used to doing everything mommy did. In a further attempt to keep her sweet I promised her a treat if she’d just go to school this one day without her panties. She could keep her legs crossed, I said. She’d be sat behind a desk most of the time and nobody would ever see. Just one day without panties for Daddy and I’d take her out for McDonalds and ice cream. The idea of lots of ice cream worked wonders on her young, dense head and she was quickly laughing again.
Leaning in to Summer, I reached both of my strong arms around her and held her tightly. She was so pretty when she laughed. It melted my heart. I gave her a kiss on the top of her head and informed her that we really needed to get going. She pointed to her forgotten school socks that were still on the back of the chair and looked back at me again with expectation. I asked her if she was really going to make me put her socks on for her and she said, of course, that mommy always does. Summer declared confidently that it was part of a princesses morning routine to be dressed by her maids and butlers. So that’s what I was! I sighed and retrieved them from the chair. She stayed sitting on the couch smiling at me in what was now an almost condescending way. Leaning down with the socks in hand, I had her raise her feet one by one. I’d forgotten about the panties, or lack of, until she raised her first foot. My face was what, 15, 20 inches from her crotch? I could see my babygirls everything. She moved her leg in slow motion, seemingly teasing me again. My cock twitched involuntarily.
I know how it sounds and how it seems. But it genuinely felt as though she wanted me to see. Being so close, I couldn’t not see it. My first thought was how smooth and hairless it was. A tiny and tight, bald little chasm framed by succulent, puffy lips. It looked as though it was sealed shut. I hadn’t seen my daughters lower half exposed for a couple of years and it seemed more pronounced now, but still immature. She was still just a tiny little preteen girl, but it looked… Good. I salivated a little at the sight, and my dick needed to be adjusted once more.
I put her socks on, patted her head. Gave her a kiss and drove her to school. She did her own little braided pigtails in the back seat while we drove, and kept asking me to look and check her hair and whether it was OK. As if I would say that it wasn’t and incur her wrath. Each time I looked in to the rear view mirror I could see her legs spread wide across the seat. And as wide as they were, that tiny little pussy was still sealed tight. It was innocent, I know, but.. Was it? I’d told her to cross her legs, and there she was with them splayed obscenely and imploring me to look at her. She mustn’t have known – she was just a child, after all. I dropped her off at school, squatted down and kissed her again. This time she kissed me on the lips. I tasted sweet syrup and chastised her for not brushing her teeth before we left. We waved goodbye and I drove home.
Back at home I had some work to do, a few spreadsheets and some accounting. I was working from home while Emma was away, which wasn’t the easiest with Summer around but I got most of my tasks done while she was at school. I sat down, started up my laptop and got to typing for about three hours before the internet abruptly disconnected. I checked the router, but everything seemed fine. Both my phone and the TV were connecting but my computer staunchly refused. Piece of shit. I’d had problems with the wireless card inside the laptop before, and cursed myself for not purchasing a replacement card before this. It was surely dead now. I needed a way to get my work emailed and the only other computer in the house while Emma was away was Summers. I don’t know why she’s got her own laptop at her age – I argued with my wife about it for a week. She won’t even know how to use it properly, she’ll break it, kids these days can be exposed to all sorts of things on the Internet, it’s not a good idea. I tried, but she always gave in to Summer. My wife was a sucker but I suppose when it comes to my only daughter I was a bit of a chump too. I went upstairs, to her room to find it.
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