Chapter 6
"Know what, Krissie? I'll bet Dad's gonna marry that Miss Henshaw," Donald Ainsley was playing softball catch with his sister in the backyard of their house this warm May Friday afternoon. Once again, Kristina had resumed her jeans and blouse, though she had made the concession to her newly gained maturity by keeping her hair in a barrette and falling in a thick, honey-golden sheaf down past her shoulders.
"Oh gosh! What makes you say that, Don?" she held the ball instead of throwing it right back, and a frown shadowed her lovely, pert face.
" 'Cause I heard him on the phone last night when I was in the hall goin' to the kitchen for a glass of milk and he didn't know I was there. He was telling his lawyer, that Mr. Raymond, that now that the decree was final from Mom, there wasn't any reason he couldn't remarry. And you know he brought her out to have dinner with us last Sunday, don't you? Well, that means he's really stuck on her, see? I think she's a nifty looker."
"Huh! She's just his secretary, that's all," Kristina sniffed and threw the ball back with angry strength.
"Hey, watch it, Krissie!" her brother grimaced and flexed his right hand. "You're not supposed to pitch it, just throw it, see? Yeah, that Miss Henshaw's a dish. I'll bet you a month's allowance Dad's gonna marry her, you wait and see. Gee, though, it'll feel sorta funny calling her Mom, she's real young."
"Huh! Well, I won't call her that, no matter what he does," she disdainfully sniffed and flung the ball back hard again.
"Hey, cut that out or I'll quit," he grumbled, rubbing his hand against his knee. "If he marries her, you'll hafta call her Mom, or Dad'll spank you. Yeah," he snickered at the sudden thought, "maybe she'll do it to you too."
"I'd just like to see her try something like that!" Kristina's face reddened furiously.
"Yeah? Well anyway, I think it's a great idea. Dad's been so down in the mouth ever since Mom went away. You want him to be happy, don't you, Krissie?"
"Sure I do, you big stupid!" Kristina angrily retorted. "I don't want to play any more. Whyn't you go see your friend Cy and have him take you over to that June you're always bragging about?"
The lanky brown-haired boy glanced quickly around to make sure nobody else was within hearing range, then slyly countered, "Sure, why not? Unless maybe, though, you'd like to have some fun with me tonight in bed?"
"Ohhhh! You-you-" Kristina spluttered, turning scarlet to the ears, "don't you ever say that again, not ever! I-I only let you do it so-so you wouldn't blab to Daddy and your awful friends like Cy! And anyhow, you know it's awful wrong to-to do it with your own sister."
"Okay, I just thought I'd ask-you might want seconds. Wanna know something, Krissie? Ever since your birthday, when you started wearing girl's clothes and changed your hair, you're real sexy, see?"
"All-all right. But I still won't ever let you again-you know. Now I'm going in and help Mrs. Weidman fix dinner for Daddy."
"Sure. I guess maybe I will go over and chew the fat with old Cy."
It was nearly midnight, and Kristina hadn't been able to get to sleep. The weather had been unseasonably warm all day long, and she'd put on her little white shortie nightie rather than her pajamas, but she still felt uncomfortably warm and restless.
Just two weeks ago she'd had her first period, and she'd been real scared. Mrs. Weidman had been there to calm her fears and show her what to do and even praise her for becoming "a real grownup young lady now, Miss Kristina, and you're going to be a beautiful woman very soon, I can see that." It had strangely comforted her. Indeed, she had felt very proud of herself for advancing out of the little-girl, childhood stage. That was one reason she wasn't being a tomboy with the fellows round the neighborhood any more.
But what Donald had told her this afternoon was staying in her mind, and it was really why she couldn't get to sleep right now. That Miss Henshaw was all right, she supposed, pretty enough, but somehow it just didn't seem right to have to call her Mom. She'd only had one short letter from her real mother, the day after her period, and the news had made her very sad. Mother was going to marry that Jirka fellow and move to New York for good, and maybe Daddy would let her come visit during the school vacation this summer. She felt terribly forlorn and abandoned all of a sudden.
Pensively she sat up and hugged her knees and stared into the warm darkness. I bet I know why Daddy wants to marry that Miss Henshaw. He wants to fu-fuck her. I guess a man has to have a girl to fuck or he gets angry and grumpy, the way Daddy's been ever since Mother left. But if he does go ahead and marry Miss Henshaw, then I won't be Daddy's girl any more. And he always did seem to like Donald the best anyhow-then it 'll be even worse and I'll be left out like an orphan, sort of. Oh, what am I going to do?
She frowned and bit her lips, then hugged her dimpled shapely round knees up even tighter against her, leaning forward and feeling them flatten the firm apply-rounds of her delicious young tits as she pondered this exasperating problem.
Now that I've had the curse-that's what Mrs. Weidman called it, and it's so funny-I'm really grownup, she said. I know I am anyhow, 'cause Donald fucked me and Daddy almost did-I-know-now that's what he really wanted to do. Maybe if I'd made him f-fuck my p-pussy that time, he wouldn't have gone looking for somebody like that slinky Miss Henshaw to do it to. Maybe-maybe if I talk to him and tell him I want to be his girl and I know how, too, maybe he won't marry her after all. I-well, I guess I wouldn't care so much if he just-well, just fucked her when he felt like it, but didn't marry her.
She squirmed uneasily, and shivered as she felt her cunt twitch and prickle with tantalizing sensations-the very same she'd experienced when Donald had fucked her and when Uncle Bjorn had tickled her pussy with his finger while he was shoving his big hard cock into her behind. Then, her face flaming at the boldness of her sudden impulsive resolve, she scrambled out of bed, and, barefooted, in her thin shortie nightie, tiptoed to her door, opened it and peered down the hall. She had made Donald promise he'd stuff some paper or putty into that crack in the wall in his room and not peek in at her, and he'd agreed. But she couldn't really trust him to keep his word about that. She waited a minute to make sure she didn't hear him stirring around in his room, and then, satisfied, took a deep breath and, headed down the stairs and down the hall to Daddy's room.
His bedroom door was partly open and she could vaguely make out his big double bed. He was lying there and breathing evenly, snoring. Her heart was pounding like a trip hammer as she cautiously crept towards the bed and stared down at him. He didn't have anything on-or else, since the sheets hid the lower part of him, he was just wearing his jammy pants. She tiptoed back to the door and closed it. Then, bolder still, turned the key quietly in the lock, and moved back to the bed.
Irresolute for a moment as she faced the most monumental crisis of her precocious young life, she hesitated, not quite sure how to go about convincing him that he didn't need to marry that Miss Henshaw because he could have her instead. As she stood staring at him, she felt the tickling in her soft cuntal lips increase, as did the pounding of her heart, till at last, drawing a deep breath and summoning up all her bravado, she carefully clambered into bed beside him and turned on her left side towards him.
"Daddy!" she whispered urgently, putting out her right hand to touch his cheek. "Daddy, please wake up, I have to talk to you!"
He stirred, mumbled, then blinked his eyes and turned to look at her. "Kristina-what are you doing here, honey?"
"I-I have to talk to you, Daddy. It-it's just awfully important."
"Oh? What's the matter, honey, couldn't you get to sleep? I know, it's so warm. Well, let me sit up and get a cigarette, okay?"
"If-if you want, Daddy," she sat up warily, again hugging her knees with both hands and shivering as he reached out to the little night table lamp, turned it on, then fumbled for a half-empty pack of Pall Malls, and lit one. "Now then, small fry, what's the trouble?"
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at that demeaning endearment. "I-I'm not small fry either, Daddy. Mrs. Weidman says I'm grownup and I'm going to be-well, real nice-pretty soon."
"Of course you are, honey. You are already. Is that what you came to tell me?"
She lowered her eyes, cleared her throat, stricken now by a sudden furious self-consciousness. But she knew she just had to tell him now or he'd go ahead and marry
Miss Henshaw and then it would be too late. "Daddy."
"Yes, honey?"
She decided to take the bull by the horns. "Are you really gonna marry that Miss Henshaw, Daddy?"
David Ainsley chuckled. "There seems to be a grapevine around this house. I hadn't planned on telling you and Don for another couple of weeks, but the answer is, yes, honey. I loved your mother very much and I missed her terribly, but now that she's marrying again, there's no point in crying over spilled milk. Rita-Miss Henshaw-is a very fine young woman, and she-likes you both, and I'm sure you'll get along just fine with her. Now, it's late, Krissie, why don't you go back to bed?" he patted her cheek.
Kristina stared at her knees, frowned, and then in a small, quavering voice, proffered: "Daddy, when a grownup gets married, it's 'cause he wants to go to bed with her, isn't it?"
"Good Lord, who gave you that bit of barnyard wisdom, Mrs. Weidman? I'll have to speak to her," he chuckled, regarding his blonde daughter with a startled glance.
"But that's so, isn't it. Daddy? I mean-well, you-you want to-well, to f-fuck Miss Henshaw so-"
David Ainsley grabbed Kristina by the shoulders and shook her. "Where the devil did you pick up that dirty word, young lady? Whom have you been talking to?"
"Ouch-please, D-Daddy-you-you're hurting me-I-some of the girls at school said it, h-honest, "She fibbed out of frantic improvisation.
"Then they need their bottoms paddled and their mouths washed out with soap is all I've got to say. And I don't want your using that word again, do you hear me?"
Kristina meekly nodded, her cheeks aflame now, her eyes averted from his stern, intent face. But the tickling in her soft cunt persisted and as his fingers gripped her bare shoulders, her own forlorn, secret need outweighed her fear of his wrath. "But D-Daddy-you don't have to marry her if-if you just want a g-girl to go to bed with-I mean-you don't 'cause-'cause I can be your girl-"
"Kristina Ainsley. What's got into you anyhow?" he peered at her incredulously, still holding her shoulders with digging fingers that made her wince but also shiver out of a secret, subconscious urge she herself could not possibly explain. "I'm sorry you heard about Rita-Miss Henshaw-from someone else rather than from me. I can imagine you're upset because of the divorce and everything, but we'll have a nice long talk about it all, when she's over here and then-"
"You-you don't understand, though, Daddy," she stammeringly interposed, twisting to kneel up and face him, as her hands took hold of his and she blushingly stared into his widened, worried eyes. "I mean-you-you can f-fuck me, Daddy, then you won't have to marry her to-to have somebody to do it to, don't you see?"
"My God, I-" his voice failed him as he regarded her with dazed stupefaction.
Hastening to press home her advantage in this moment of his apparent hesitation, the lovely blonde teenager finished, "You see, Daddy, I-I know what-what f-fucking is-'cause-well, I did it-"
"Kristina, have you gone stark staring raving mad?" he shouted, shaking her again till her honey-gold hair danced about her dimpled shoulders. "I warned you, I don't like that kind of language from a nice young girl-"
"But it's true, Daddy," she bravely nodded without taking her eyes from his taut, flushed face, "I did it-and you know something? You-you really wanted to do it to me yourself, the night of my birthday when-when you sp-spanked me-"
"Oh my God!" he ruefully groaned. "Honey, I thought we were going to forget all about that-I went crazy for a time here, I'm sorry, you know that-but don't tell lies just because you're upset about my getting married again, baby? Now stop this nonsense and go back to sleep!"
Again she shook her head. "Uh uh. I'm not making it up, Daddy, honest I'm not. I-I did it with a boy, Daddy, and ... and he used one of those white things you put on-on your c-cock when you f-fuck somebody."
"If I hear another word, young lady, I'm going to take the hairbrush to your bottom and make you regret making up such a colossal lie. Now look, I-I understand why you're doing this, but I told you we'd talk it over sensibly in the morning."
Kristina began to sniffle. "You don't believe me. You think I'm just a silly little girl. Well, I'm not. I'm grownup, Daddy. And you can spank me if you want, but I did so tell the truth-I did get f-fucked! Want-want to see me?" And with this, she lofted her shortie nightie, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor, then confronted him on her knees, her face scarlet and tearstained.
David Ainsley turned red and started to speak, but couldn't. His eyes riveted on his daughter's budding apple-round tits with their dainty coral tidbits in the center of the delicate narrow aureolae, on the soft nook of her bellybutton, on the silky dark-golden curls which framed the plump pink citadel of her tempting young cuntal mound, on the quivering, long satiny-sheened thighs which parted in her shamefaced yet proud offertory of her girlish nakedness. Gradually, the horrifying realization came to him: how else would she have known about the condom if it hadn't happened to her?
And then a kind of jealous, selfishly possessive rage began to build in him, along with the throbbing ache and swelling of his prick to think of the naked lovely young nymph in such terms and, mostly, to think that someone else had tasted the succulent sweetness of her virgin cunt, when it had only been by Herculean self-control on the night of her birthday that he had held himself back at the last possible moment from taking her cherry himself.
Before he could think rationally, acting solely out of blind, jealous impulse, David Ainsley had thrust his right forefinger between the soft pouting pinks of Kristina's tender cuntal lips, and burrowed to the knuckle. "Christ-you were telling the truth, weren't you? Why, you little slut you-who was it? Who fucked you, Kristina? I want to know, d'you hear?"
"I-I won't tell you, Daddy-you-you'd only be mad at him and hurt him-and besides, he-he didn't get me into trouble-like I said-he-he used one of those white things he says stops having babies!" Pale and trembling, but courageous, Kristina faced her aghast father, naked on her knees, while his eyes glitteringly fixed her taut, anxious, lovely face and his finger remained hilted inside her twitching cunt.
"Oh, you won't? We'll see about that, young lady!" he finally growled. Getting off the bed, clad only in thin white cotton pajama shorts, he strode to his dresser, picked up a black wooden hairbrush and went back to the bed where Kristina cowered, wringing her hands and staring apprehensively at the ominous smooth-backed, oval-shaped implement of her imminent chastisement.
He swung himself onto the bed and seated himself in the middle, then gripped Kristina's left wrist and yanked her over his lap, his left palm pressing down hard on the center of her smooth pink deeply-hollowed back to hold her down to penance. Then, patting her huddling bare ass-cheeks with the flat back of the hairbrush, he hoarsely declared, "I'm going to get it out of you one way or another, young lady, so when you've had enough, you can just tell me what boy it was did it to you, understand?"
Kristina covered her face with her hands and bowed her head, abandoning her nubile naked body, huddling her long shapely thighs. Already she could feel her father's throbbingly swelling prick prod against her lower abdomen. I won't tell him I just won't. He can spank me to death but I won't! When he spanked me that first time, he got so excited he-he almost f-fucked me then, I know he did-well, maybe this time he'll really do it, and then he won't want to marry that Miss Henshaw! I know it's going to hurt lots worse'n his hand, but I don't care-ohhhhh, that did hurt, awfully! Ouchh, ohh the hairbrush is lots worse'n his big hand, oh yes it is! Ohhhh, he's spanking so hard, he's really mad at me-oh gosh, I can't hold still, I have to kick and wiggle my poor bottom 'cause it burns so!
The very first crisp Whackk of the hairbrush on his daughter's bare ass made David Ainsley's prick jerk and ache agonizingly with the salacious sound. As he lifted the brush, the sight of the bright pink oval splotch decorating the upper left cheek of her stoically tightened behind sent a wave of lustful heat through his viscera.
Grimly, he lifted the brush again and brought it down on the other cheek, then a third, and a fourth time, pausing to contemplate his handiwork. Kristina had sucked in her breath audibly each time, her body stiffening at the impact of the smooth flat wood against her springy, satiny bare flesh, and at the fourth spank her right foot had kicked up and down as she wriggled uneasily across his lap, still keeping her head down and her face covered with her trembling little hands.
"I mean it, young lady," he harshly repeated, patting the base of her flinching ass with the upper part of the hairbrush. "I'm going to use this till you tell me his name! Oh, you're going to be stubborn, are you now? We'll just see!" Smack-thwack-whack-crack-smackk! Raising the brush, he inflicted five quick stinging cracks all over Kristina's squirming bare ass, pushing down with his left palm as her body uncontrollably arched and writhed.
"Oooooooh! Ahhhh, ohh, D-Daddy, it hurts! Owww! I can't tell-I won't-you can sp-spank me all you want but I still won't-ouuuueeeeee! Ahrrrr, ohh, it stings, Daddy-oooh, Lordie, it stings something fierce-boo, hoo hoo, I didn't mean to be naughty, honest I didn'tahrr-oh please, not-not so h-hard there, Daddy, oh it's awful-I-I did itooohhheeeeeeahrrrr, oh let up a second, II have to talk to you, Daddy, puhleaseeee! Ahrrr! Owwweeeee! I had to do it, Daddy-" under the inexorable barrage of hairbrush spanks, Kristina could no longer maintain her heroic stoicism. Her hips leaped, swerved violently, her feet kicked to and fro in the air, and her writhing gyrations rubbed her soft pink twitching cunt more and more vigorously against his, by now savagely swollen, prick. As he paused after the twentieth spank, his glittering, narrowed eyes laving her woefully bright-red-streaked naked ass, Kristina turned her tear-drenched face back to supplicate: "I-I had to do it, Daddy-I wanted to-to know what f-fucking was like so's-so's you could do it to me and I'd be your girl all the time and-and you wouldn't ever, ever have to marry anybody else-there-now you know w-why, Daddy-but please, n-not so hard with that awful b-brush, please, Daddy darling!"
He kept the hairbrush pressed over the crevice of her squirming, flaming bottom as he stared at her, his jaw dropping. "You poor lonesome kid you," he finally ejaculated in a shaky voice. "It was all my fault you got into this mess-first, that crazy birthday spanking and then what I did because-well, you were right, honey-a man needs a girl to fuck, and yes, that's one good reason I'm going to marry Miss Henshaw, darling. But my God, sweetheart, there's a law against our doing what you want me to do-you have to wait till you're really grownup, like Miss Henshaw, though maybe not that old, and then pick someone you love very much, don't you see?"
Her hands plunged back to rub and soothe her fiery, swollen, quivering ass as she tearfully nodded, beseechingly staring at him. "Y-yes, Daddy, but couldn't youjust this once-please-d-do it to me? I want you to-you-you aren't married yet-you-you could put on one of those things and do-do it to me-you-you spanked so hard, I'm so awful hot, I want you to love me good, Daddy darling-please?"
The hairbrush dropped from his nerveless hand as he stared mutely at his precocious naked sobbing daughter. Then he uttered a tortured groan. Kristina had drawn back her left hand, insinuated it between their bodies and was squeezing the swollen head of his violently aroused prick. "You know you want to f-fuck my p-pussy, Daddy-I can feel your c-cock wants to, isn't that so?" she chokingly murmured.
"All right, you asked for it, young lady!" he panted, rolling her onto her back. Kristina squealed as her blazing bottom pressed against the sheets, but her eyes were wide and anxious, glimmering with tears of mingled discomfort and rapt expectancy, as she watched her father strip off his pajama shorts, pull open the drawer of the little night table and take out a glossy white condom, then fit it along his bulging, angrily reddened prick.
"Now just you remember that when I get married, this will never happen, honey," he admonished as he knelt before her, his hands stroking her bare knees and quivering calves, while she thrust her palms down on either side of her, shuddering with anticipation. The throbbing heat of her well thrashed naked ass made her squirm her hips in the most lascivious way, like a young concubine just purchased by the vizier of a mighty emir and brought at once to his bedchamber to be sampled and judged for her carnal competence to please. "You and Rita and I are going to have a nice long talk about things very soon, because I've got to do something about you. If you're this way at thirteen, heaven knows what you'll be like five years from now unless we give, you some real parental guidance."
"You-you can always spank me when I'm naughty, Daddy," she sniffled, with a wry little smile through her tears.
"Oh no," he shook his head with a hollow laugh. "I'm wise to your cute little sexy tricks, young lady. Look what happened just now when I paddled that naughty backside of yours-now keep still or I'll do it all over again!"
"Y-yes, Daddy-are-are you g-going to-f-fuck me, now, Daddy d-darling?" she quavered in a tiny, scared, anxious little voice.
He didn't answer, too overwrought to trust himself to speak. Instead, drawing her knees lasciviously apart, he plunged his face against her twitching, already moistened cunt and began to kiss and suck it lingeringly, flicking his tongue all over the fleshy outer labia rims, then slyly gouging between the delicate more fragile lips of her tingling vulva.
"Oooooh-ahh-ohh Daddy-ohh that's so nice, ohh how it tickles my p-pussy-ohh Daddy darling, I can't k-keep s-still when you're doing that to my p-pussy-ahh-ouu-ohhhhh I have to wiggle and kick and tell you what it feels like-ouu--ahh-Daddy-ahh-hoooh Lordie-ohh, I'm going to faint if you keep d-doing that to my p-pussy, Daddy darling-eeeeekoohhh-ouuuuu Daddddddyyyyy!"
She lifted herself with her palms, head tilting back till her soft throat was a taut pink-fleshed arc, the pulse hollow throbbing wildly. Her tits arched up, dusky-stiffened points jabbing at the air as her body vibrated and threshed, her hips swerving lewdly and uncontrollably as his tongue now concentrated on her diminutive, sensitive clit.
"Ohhh-ahhhhhhh-D-Daddy," she moaned, delirious with excitement, "f-fuck my pussy now, oh do it now, I want you to, oh puhlease, Daddy darling, fuck your girl!"
He straightened, then cupped her burgeoning, heaving tits and moved between her straddled, shaking thighs, his white-sheathed prick rubbing lightly against the moist pink twitching gape of her frantically yearning young cunt. "Ohh-ohh-y-yes, put it into my pussy, oh put it all in, Daddy!" she breathed, arching herself up frantically with her palms, trying to grant him easier access, stretching her long sleek pink-sheened thighs as far apart as she possibly could. Her dark-blue eyes wide and unwaveringly fixed on his massive weapon.
David Ainsley moved forward, his glans disappearing slowly as the fragile pink lips of Kristina's young wanton cunt absorbed the adamant intruder. She moaned with delight at the stretching, rasping sensation it inflicted on her tight sheath, closing her eyes, her nostrils dilating and clenching spasmodically as her feverish excitement mounted.
"Am I hurting you, sweetheart?" he solicitously panted, halting halfway inside her quaking cunt, his hands kneading her jouncy warm young tits.
"Oh nooo! Ohh please, do it hard-f-fuck my pussy hard, Daddy! Oooh, my bottom hurts so, f-fuck me hard so I won't feel it so much, please, Daddy!" Kristina huskily exhorted.
With a shuddering groan, her father slowly stretched himself out over the passionate young naked teenager, burrowing his prick to the balls inside her churning cunt.
Ohhh it's so good, so much bigger'n harder'n Donald's-oh, my Daddy's fucking my pussy, he really is, I'm so happy, I want to be his girl to fuck, even if he does go ahead and marry that Miss Henshawoooh, mmmm, it's just heaven ... I can feel my pussy kissing my Daddy's big s tiff cock, yes lean-it's so tight inside me, it's open-
HQing my little pussy so! Oohhh, ouuuuu, I'm rubbing my sore bottom on the sheets and it makes me get hotter all the time-oohhh, Daddy's fucking his Kristina and I wont ever, ever tell Donald, but if he hadn't shown me, I wouldn't ever have known how lovely it is!
Fearful that he might crush the naked young girl with his weight, David Ainsley clutched her by the hips and rolled her over atop him, as she squealed with surprise and delight to find herself staring blushingly down at him. "Am I doing it right for you, Daddy dearest?" she begged with a happy little giggle.
"You're wonderful, Krissie angel," he groaned, grinding his teeth to hold back the maddened urge to explode, feeling her narrow warm cuntal walls clench and flutter against his achingly imbedded prong. His hands slipped down to her hairbrush-heated ass-cheeks and savoringly palpated the luscious, tingling, reddened flesh.
"Oooh, Daddy, it-it's still awfully sore there-b-but it feels good just the same," she whispered, and with a happy little sob, crushed her moist soft mouth on his, parting her lips and out of deliciously spontaneous impulse foraging her pert pink tongue inside his panting mouth.
"Sweetheart, wiggle up and down on me," he whisperingly instructed slipping a forefinger into the sinuous crease between her inflamed buttocks to brush the furtive, crinkly petals of her ass hole.
Oooooh, I wonder what Daddy would think if I dared tell him Uncle Bjorn put his big hard cock into that place too! Oh gosh, what an awful lot of secrets I've got to keep-but I'll bet that Miss Henshaw won't be able to f-fuck Daddy any better'n I do, I'll just bet! Oooh, it's so lovely, I'm wiggling, just like Daddy said to do, and I can feel his cock rub and push back and forth in my hot pussy-ouuu, something's happening, to Daddy's cock, it's jerking and-oooooh, ohhhhhh I'm going to faint, I just know I am, everything's getting so dizzy inside of me, ohhh, it's so wonderful, ohhh now Daddy knows what a nice pussy his girl has for him to fuck!
His fingers had dug into her swollen butt-cheeks as he felt himself explode, and Kristina, sobbing, writhing uncontrollably, clutched at his flushed cheeks as she experienced the quaking tumult of her answering hot cum.
"There," he gasped, "now you put on your nightie and go right to bed and don't ever let me catch you doing this again."
Slowly, shivering with erotic aftermath, the naked blonde teenager wriggled off his still shuddering body, sat on the edge of the bed, then archly looked back at him. "Is it all right if I have a boyfriend, then, if I can't have you, Daddy?" she petitioned with a teasing little smile.
"Don't you dare," he exclaimed, reaching for the discarded hairbrush.
"Oooh, I'm going, I'm going, Daddy," Kristina giggled as she hastily donned her shortie nightie and scampered to the door. Then, as she opened it, she whispered saucily, "Only if you ever want to f-fuck my pussy again, Daddy, all you have to do is say so!"