I remember lying in bed at night listening to my parents make love. The moaning and sex talk would drive me nearly insane, leaving me hot and bothered until the day I found my hands rubbing my wetness. My Daddy would call my mother names that excited me. He would use the same tone with me when he spanked my bottom; little did he know with each swat my panties would become wetter.
I would understand just how much I loved my Daddy after my 18th birthday. His tall broad frame held love, comfort and discipline that I desperately craved from him.
As time passed the love making noises had come to a stop, mother was too busy with her work and friends to take care of Daddy like he needed. I found out how much he needed when I would spy him stroking himself while sitting on the end of their bed. He would slowly stroke his shaft while I secretly stood in the hallway rubbing my wetness. I knew it was not right for me to watch him.
One Saturday morning after my mother went to work I snuck upstairs to watch him. There he was freshly out of the shower, his white robe open, big firm fist sliding up and down his shaft. Daddy was so beautiful, strong, and sexy; it took all I had not to run in the room to help him. Although once I was there I wasn't sure what I would do, or what to do. I did not have to wait long to find out.
"Angle, why don't you come sit next to Daddy? Aren't you tired of always standing out there watching?" His voice startled me; I felt a twinge of something deep inside me making my vagina contract.
