Father-daughter date

I. Father
and Daughter's Appointment I had a date with my daughter.
The father rarely spent time alone with his daughter, let alone on a date. However, it was she who suggested it. She said that dating was a popular topic among her classmates lately, and her best friend Sarah had a date too. She said to me, "Daddy, can you ask me out? I want to try what dating is like." I was a little taken aback. Kids these days, so young and already dating like adults?
"Daddy, do you know what dating is?" I asked my daughter.
"Daddy, of course I know. Going to the movies, eating ice cream, popping popcorn, and..." "Okay, this Saturday, Mom has to work, so I'll go on a date with you." "Great! Thank you, Daddy!" She was overjoyed, hugged me, and planted a wet kiss on my lips.
I wiped the saliva from my lips and looked at her.
She said, "Let me tell Mom."
I said, "No need. Let's keep it a little secret between us, and not let Mom know. That will make our date more fun." "Yes! Then let's pinky swear." Amanda thought it was a good idea.
Amanda was beaming with pride. She skipped back to her bedroom, giving me a wink as she looked back.
I thought to myself, my little darling has suddenly grown up. But looking at her figure, she's still a little girl.
I didn't think much of this date, just a typical father-daughter "date." But after a few days, I felt like I had needles pricking my nerves. I felt uneasy, and it felt very strange. Usually, I never take my promises to my daughter to heart. This time, I seemed to be looking forward to the date.
I started paying attention to Amanda's behavior. Children always want their father's attention, but ever since we agreed to go to the movies together, her expression and behavior have become strange, always trying to get my attention. On Friday, she said she was going to a school activity after class. When she came back, I saw her furtively carrying a large bag and a small bag of things. I asked her where she had gone, and she smiled and told me I would find out tomorrow.
On Saturday, she locked herself in her room all day and wasn't ready to go out. I glanced at the clock, impatiently knocked on her door, and asked if she could go out yet. I shouldn't rush her when she's on a date with a girl.
She replied from inside the room, "Almost there, almost there," and then the door opened, revealing her wearing a spaghetti-strap dress, stockings, and high heels. She was wearing lipstick, and a waft of perfume wafted over. She wanted me to look more mature; this was an adult's outfit, and overly sexy, really not suitable for her age. How old is she? ... She lowered her head, looking very shy, and I couldn't help but scrutinize her. What was this little girl up to?
I said to her, "My sweetheart, you're very pretty!"
"Daddy, you're teasing me," she pouted again.
These were my innermost thoughts.
She consciously adjusted her shoulder straps and neckline. She was still a child's size, unable to make the wide neckline of her dress lie flat against her chest. And in that fleeting moment, the lace trim of her bra beneath the neckline suddenly appeared.
"Daddy, can we go now?"
When Amanda hooked her arm around mine, her small figure, barely reaching my shoulder, pressed against me… a long-forgotten desire welled up from the depths of my heart. I couldn't believe this chemical reaction had occurred. Yet, it felt so real.
My premonition was that tonight would be a special night.
…
II. Springtime in the Theater
Arriving at the movie theater, I found myself facing a father's choice. All the movies showing tonight were unsuitable for children. One was erotic, with numerous nude scenes and explicit sex scenes—I couldn't watch this with my daughter; another was violent, with fighting from beginning to end, a disgustingly cruel plot that would affect a child's psychology; and the last was a ghost story—Amanda was afraid of the dark and ghosts, and I was afraid of frightening her.
Amanda stood at the ticket counter, looking troubled. She tugged at my hand and asked, "Daddy, which movie are you taking me to? People are starting to come in, aren't we buying tickets yet?" "Sweetie, look, I have a problem. There are three movies, and I don't know which one to choose." "Daddy, you should choose a movie suitable for a date."
That's a good idea. A first date, which one should we watch? Those erotic movies are suitable for couples who are in love, so let's watch a ghost story. With me by her side, my daughter will be braver.
When we entered the theater, Amanda held my hand, acting like intimate lovers, so the ticket checker at the door wouldn't suspect that she was underage. Of course, there were no children in the movie theater. Some people occasionally looked up and saw us, an older woman and a younger woman, on a date, with a question mark in their eyes. Were they having an "age-gap relationship"?
We casually found our seats and sat down...
I don't know if we chose the right movie. As soon as the movie started, my little girl whispered in my ear that the men in the row in front of her were blocking her view. It wasn't anyone else's fault; it was just that my little girl was too small. Movie theater seats have been improved now, as comfortable and spacious as a sofa at home. Amanda sank in so much that she couldn't see the screen. So I let Amanda climb onto my lap and sit on my knees. Father and daughter, no one minded. Looking around, everyone was engrossed in the movie, except for those questioning eyes that kept glancing our way.
At first, we were all watching the movie, but then we couldn't take it anymore. Those suddenly appearing, hideous ghosts terrified Amanda, making her scream. She clung tightly to me, burying her face in my chest, too scared to watch. As her father, of course, I had to comfort her. I hugged her tightly, gently patting her back, and said, "It's okay, it'll be over soon."
A two-hour movie won't be over in a minute. Amanda glanced up at the screen every now and then, and whenever she saw a scary scene, she would hide in my arms. She said, "Daddy, tell me what's going on?" I said, "Don't be afraid, nothing's happening, nothing's happening."
Amanda whispered in my ear again, "Daddy, I'm a little cold, can you hold me tighter?" This daughter loves to dress up, and she was only wearing a short off-the-shoulder dress. Given the eerie atmosphere of the movie, it's no wonder she felt cold. So I held her tighter, hugging her more closely. Our bodies were pressed tightly together. I felt a warmth emanating from my body, flowing through my daughter. I asked her, "Are you warmer now?" She said she felt very warm, and then she started kissing my chest.
Her little hand unbuttoned one button of my shirt and slipped inside. As I gently stroked her back, she rubbed my chest. I felt the back strap of her bra through the fabric. It was a strapless bra, meant to match her thin-strapped short skirt. Actually, it had no straps at all, just two thin, transparent plastic strings, like fishing line, holding it together.
I hadn't intended to investigate what kind of underwear she was wearing, but my hands were too nimble, her clothes too thin, and the feeling was simply too wonderful. I couldn't resist, and my hand greedily caressed the area near her buttocks.
Adama seemed to know my intentions; just as my hand was about to place on her bottom, she shifted her body, changing our position so that my large palm could cover a section of her buttocks. The skirt was too short; sitting on my lap, it didn't cover her bottom, so I almost touched her panties! However, the shape of those panties was already imprinted on my palm!
Good heavens! This is my daughter's bottom, and I can't resist touching it, greedily exploring its exquisite beauty, like being in the seventh heaven... No scene on the screen can hold my attention anymore!
I close my eyes, enjoying being so close to Amanda, nestled together, savoring this sweet sensation I've never experienced before. She kissed my shirt until it was wet, the fabric clinging to my chest, bringing my skin even closer to her lips. I'm like a drunkard, completely out of control!
This little rascal spent ages in the room just to get dressed up. Did you think I wouldn't know what she was wearing underneath? I didn't even need to take off her skirt; I could tell by touch that she was wearing lace-trimmed panties under the short skirt, different from the little girls' panties she usually wore. I didn't even need to see them to guess they were the sexiest kind. Her meticulous dressing up, inside and out, was all for this date.
This date, now, is a far cry from the original father-daughter date we were talking about. We both seem to be looking forward to it, not wanting it to end before it's over. But what will happen next? I can't say. Nobody can say!
I don't know what Adama, so young, is thinking. In the dark movie theater, by the dim light of the screen, I secretly watched her. She seemed to know I was watching her, tilting her childish face up to look at me. She seemed to enjoy this intimate moment between father and daughter, and we smiled knowingly.
The plot took a sharp turn, and it was time for the end. When the lights come on, she will leave my embrace, and this beautiful time will come to an end.
Are we willing? I struggle with this question. And what about Adama? Does she understand what we are doing? The father within me knows it's wrong. Father and daughter embrace like lovers, and I, without her noticing, secretly touch her body—the parts a father shouldn't touch. I even hear people in the rows in front and behind me talking about me, saying that this man, over thirty, is dating a minor! Look, that little girl is not even twelve… And the other me, completely absorbed, is passionately involved with what I consider the most alluring, the sexiest girl. I believe other men will be jealous of me, having such a romantic date with my daughter.
III. Uncontrollable Passion
Neither of us understands what we are doing. The theater lights come on, but we remain engrossed, unwilling to leave. Amanda nestled her face against my chest and said sweetly, "Daddy, our date was so wonderful, don't let it end now. Tonight, stay with me, just you and me." I didn't want it to end here either. A wonderful feeling was forming between Amanda and me, drawing us very, very close. I wanted to follow that feeling and grow even closer. I wanted to know if we could go there together. If this feeling was lost, it might never come back. So I said to her, "My little sweetheart, where do you want me to take you?"
"Daddy, you know. Just don't go home."
I didn't really know. The theater was empty. I took Amanda's little hand and walked out of the theater. The lobby was deserted. Amanda was thinly dressed, and the theater's air conditioning made her stiff. I gently stroked her face and asked if she was cold. She took my thumb and sucked on it like a candy stick. The sucking motion made my breath quicken. I felt I could touch her lips with my thumb; I gently pressed it against hers, and it gently kissed me. I could almost hear her heartbeat. I leaned down to see her clearly. She nestled affectionately into my arms, and my heart pounded. As our faces met, our lips almost touched, but in that fleeting moment of light brushing, sparks flew. I thought
, is Adama too young? Should I wait until she's older before kissing her? But I've kissed her since I was little, and I've never felt this way. What's wrong with kissing her now? Am I afraid of this wonderful feeling? God, we're on a date! If this beautiful moment slips away, it will never come again. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who cares if she's my daughter or how young she is? I can't help but treat her like my little lover, wanting to taste the flavor of kissing her.
Adama had been anticipating my kiss. Every touch I gave her was a woman's response. As soon as I put my arm around her waist, she closed her eyes and offered her cherry-like lips. I held her close and kissed her. She actually knew how to kiss; the sweet smile on her face, the excitement she exuded, and the fact that I knew I had done the right thing told me. Her teeth parted slightly, and as soon as our lips met, she extended her tongue, meeting mine. Once I was on her lips, I didn't want to stop.
Because if our lips parted, I didn't want to explain to my daughter why her father kissed her. We wouldn't be like father and daughter, like lovers. Could she explain the difference? Was this what she wanted? To my surprise, she hugged me and said first, "Daddy, I thought we'd kiss during the movie."
"Little rascal, we're watching a horror movie. I thought you'd be terrified." "Daddy, I thought you wouldn't kiss me..." "
Adam, you're the sexiest and most charming girl I've ever dated. I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, but I was afraid the occasion wasn't right, and I was afraid you wouldn't agree." "Daddy, you're more romantic and caring than other boys. You gave me the sweetest first kiss. Next time, you should take me to see some romantic movies; kissing will be easier, right?" "That's a good idea. You can decide what movie to watch next time." I felt relieved. But what I cared about wasn't what movie to watch next time. It was where I wanted to take my daughter. We'd kissed, and now we were like a couple holding hands on a date. My heart was beating faster and faster. My daughter had actually made my heart flutter. We walked and talked, my steps leading me to the entrance of an elegant hotel. I stopped, hesitating for a moment. Amanda, however, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the lobby.
It took a lot of courage to run to the front desk and ask for a room for the night. Amanda couldn't wait to go up and see how big our room was. The receptionist glanced at us, watching us like lovers, hand in hand, running into the elevator. In the elevator, we couldn't wait to kiss, and she returned my kiss without hesitation. I found her little tongue, soft, smooth, and sweet. We sucked on each other's lips, tasting the fragrance and sweetness of her mouth. I smiled knowingly; I used to call her my sweetheart, and she really was that sweet.
As soon as the door closed, I tensed up. Amanda stood there, unsure how I would treat her. Her face betrayed her thoughts. I held my breath, staring at my daughter. She looked at me expectantly. So, the only thing stopping me was myself. I looked at her, at her innocent, naive little girl. It was no use; it couldn't extinguish the fire of desire within me. I reminded myself that she was my daughter, my own flesh and blood, that I couldn't touch her, but it was no use. My eyes were fixed on only the sexiest girl I'd never dated. God wouldn't forgive me.
I embraced her, and she threw herself into my arms. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her face buried in my chest. I should have stopped there, but I couldn't. Involuntarily, I watched my hands pull one of the thin straps of her dress to the side. Amanda looked up at me, letting me expose her. Watching me pull down the other strap as well. The dress began to fall, and I carefully pulled it down, revealing her sexy lingerie. I swear, I'd never seen a woman's lingerie more alluring than Amanda's. Impossible; her body wasn't fully developed, she didn't yet have a figure. But I just wanted her so badly, I wanted to go home right away, divorce my wife, and marry Amanda.
IV. The Virgin's First Time:
Father and daughter faced each other, undressing. Amanda was only wearing the sexy lingerie I hadn't yet removed, her eyes fixed on me as I took off her shirt and trousers. I watched her gaze, wondering if she was frightened by my large penis encased in my briefs. That thing was like a monster, transforming into a colossal beast, ready to break free and pounce on its prey.
"Amanda, are you scared?"
She shook her head.
I was scared. Our relationship was about to enter a new phase, everything would change. I wanted her to be scared. She said she wasn't scared because she didn't know what to be afraid of. But I knew I was her father. I would ruin my life, ruin her life, and destroy my marriage.
I couldn't wait any longer; I had to kiss my little lover. Once our lips met, they were pressed tightly together, inseparable. All my worries and inner struggles vanished. I wanted her more than anything. Adam must have felt my desire and love for her. We were like Aladdin and the little princess, flying in magic. What the world thought of us didn't matter. We only knew that we lived for each other.
I picked Amanda up, her arms wrapped around my neck. One hand supported her back, the other slipped inside her thong, cupping her bottom and gently squeezing it. Amanda knew what we were about to do. She couldn't possibly not know, could she?
What we were going to do was in bed. I carried Amanda to the large bed, gently and considerately placing her in the center. Then, I took a deep breath and quickly pulled down my underwear. My incredibly aroused penis, freed from its final restraint, felt a little lighter. I climbed onto the bed, lying on my side next to Amanda. I stopped thinking about anything else, only about making love with Amanda.
Before undressing Amanda completely, I kissed her again—her face, her hands, the back of her shoulders, and her toes. She trusted me completely, surrendering herself entirely to me. She looked at my hands, unhooked her bra, and then pulled down her thong. My little girl was completely naked, just like me.
When she was little, I used to bathe her and bathe with her in the tub. It felt completely different from this. Back then, I touched her and played with her; now, I caressed her, arousing her desire for me. Her little nipples were already erect. She tried to touch my nipples, just as hard as hers. I took her little hands, letting her feel the desire on her nipples, and let her palms press against my chest.
At Amanda's age, could she understand why her father was so infatuated with her? Why he caressed her so gently and kissed her? I wish Amanda didn't understand, because she had never experienced anything like this. She just lay on the bed, her snow-white skin releasing a color that burned me. My huge thing, nowhere to hide, danced before her eyes. She reached out her little hand and caught it. The moment my thing landed in her hand, our relationship was broken. Because of that thing, she became my daughter, and from that moment on, she became my little lover.
I didn't care if my thing was too big or if her little pussy could accommodate it, I inserted it inch by inch into the deepest part between her legs. Madda closed her eyes, pretending to enjoy it. What was she thinking? Was she thinking about the pleasure of intercourse or something else? Her virginity had to be torn apart by me, completely accepted into her body, for the pleasure to be delivered. My little lover had never done these things before, I knew that. This was her first night. She was willing to give me her first time, to let me love her.
I told her to hold me tight, and then told her to relax a little, actually I was just as nervous as she was. I was making love with my daughter, she trusted me so much, giving herself to me. I pushed gently, I didn't believe that when I went all the way in, she could swallow me completely. Reaching an obstacle, after a few bumps, it stopped there. I heard my little sweetheart cry out softly; finally, I was in place. I looked down, unable to believe my eyes, and plunged all the way into her little pussy.
I held her, and she opened her eyes to look at me expectantly. So, I gently thrust in and out. Her eyes were half-open, half-closed, looking upwards, her face pressed against my chest, kissing and licking my chest and nipples. I dared not sink any deeper, afraid of crushing her. But she fearlessly met my thrusts, letting me penetrate to the very end with every stroke.
Oh! God, I personally plucked Amanda's "cherry."
V. Falling into the Trap of Love
I couldn't believe that my first date, especially with my own daughter, could be so pathetic. I couldn't help but fall into the trap of love, turning my daughter into my lover. As my enormous thing thrust in and out of Amanda, I honestly told myself, "This is terrible. I'd rather it were her in my bed every night."
Amanda wouldn't let me leave; she insisted on keeping me inside her hot, wet little pussy. She said, "Daddy, will you stay inside me? It feels so good, even better than I've ever imagined. I dream about this every night—what it's like to be in love with the one you love. My dream has come true, Daddy. You're the best boyfriend I could ever find in the world." I couldn't believe Amanda actually saw me as her dream lover. So what happened tonight wasn't a coincidence. But Amanda was so innocent, so lovely, naked in my arms—how should I treat her? As I felt our bodies so intimately intertwined, and tried to understand what I had done to her, she asked again, "Daddy, do you like me?"
"Silly girl, if Daddy didn't like you, I wouldn't have made love to you." "Daddy, I love you very much." "
Armanda, you have to understand, what we're doing will make your belly bigger." "Daddy, I already learned about sex education in school. You know what? The thing I want to do most is have a child for you." "Armanda, no. We can't have children." These words were a betrayal of her pure heart. But we had just made love, I had ejaculated into her vagina, and it was overflowing. What if that act of love resulted in a life...? Thinking of this, I regretted not taking any precautions. What if something happened?
That little devil Armanda noticed the trouble on my face, leaned close to my ear, and whispered, "Your period hasn't come yet," and I felt a little relieved. However, my feelings were even more conflicted because I had made a perverse love. I said considerately to my little lover, "I hope that even before we get married, we can be together and you can have my child..." "Daddy, this is what I dream about every night." "
But, only if it's just the two of us, and no one else, can I get you pregnant. It's not possible right now, we'll talk about it later. So, you must tell me when your period comes." "Daddy, does that mean you acknowledge that you are my boyfriend? Will we go on dates again?" "If you want."
"That's great!" she shouted happily.
"Sweetheart, do you really like making love with me? Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you?" "I've done it, and I know it's better than what I've heard from others. It must be because you're better at making love than other boys. Thank you." It was getting late, and my little lover was extremely unwilling, but I still had to pull my big penis out of her little pussy. Blood and vaginal fluid were sticky on her thighs. I told her not to look, and to lie on the bed while I wiped her clean with a tissue. My heart ached when I saw her swollen, red vulva. Ky hadn't even applied any ointment before inserting himself, and he'd been thrusting wildly, completely oblivious to everything else—he was heartless. Her beautiful clitoris fascinated me; she hadn't even grown pubic hair yet. She was a primary school student, my daughter. At such a young age, I'd already taken her—I had no shame. However, I couldn't resist the temptation and kissed her smooth, delicate skin.
We were naked, engaging in an irresistible test. I quickly picked her up, sat her on the edge of the bed, and helped her put on her bra and panties, making her even more alluring. Dressing her—how many years ago had that been? I was so stupid, letting my wife do this intimate thing with my daughter.
Her eyes were fixed on my throbbing member, without any fear. I was naked in front of her; just one look was enough to excite me. The more she looked at me, the more excited I became, a strange restlessness surging from my glans. Help, I'm going crazy.
My wife got home before us and was waiting for me in bed. She put on a sexy nightgown—oh no, that was her signal she wanted to make love. Luckily, she was almost asleep. I pretended to sleep, lay down beside her, and waited until she was sound asleep before sneaking out to find Armanda. She wasn't asleep yet. She knelt on the bed, we embraced, and without thinking, we started kissing again. Her little lips were so sweet, her saliva like fine wine, intoxicating me. With every kiss, I received her message: how much she wanted me. I slipped my hand inside her nightgown; her little nipples were erect. I cupped her buttocks and pulled her body tightly into my arms. I told her, "My little darling, don't let Mommy know about tonight. She'll be jealous of us and see you as her rival, and she won't let you and me off the hook. Understand?" Once Armanda and I started kissing, we couldn't separate, but there was a third party in the house, and I couldn't let her find out about our forbidden love. My little sweetheart wouldn't let me leave until I promised to go on another date with her next week, and even take her to the mall to buy her some clothes that I liked her to wear on our date.
Of course I agreed. I tucked her in tightly, then kissed her deeply on the lips—no longer the goodnight kiss between father and daughter, but a tender, lingering kiss between lovers.
[The End]

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