On a business trip I met a wonderfully charming couple a while back. She was young, pretty, very shy and quiet, always smiling in a cute and innocent manner and prone to spontaneous outbursts of giggling. She had a 'voluptuous' figure, being very curvy and well-rounded. The gentleman accompanying her was tall, solidly built, quite handsome and very charming. He was appreciably older than her, I would have guessed with her at 20 and he in his early 40's, but that is not that uncommon these days. They were very cuddly and obviously very intense and satisfied lovers. She frequently would refer to him as 'daddy' and I thought perhaps this was a pet name or she had a daddy fetish. On inquiring more deeply though I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she was indeed his daughter. She mentioned a step-mother, whom she said had recently left their household and was apparently not missed. I recite here what was revealed to me in confidence by her. No names or locations will be used to protect the deliciously and erotically guilty!
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I grew up in a western state, without much money and with a lot of religion, as is common in these parts. My papa is a preacher man, but he don't make much, so we have a little home that I grew up in, together with papa and his second wife. I was pulled out of school when he re-married and after that was home-tutored by my step-mother. She was a strict lady and heavy on the whip. She taught me to read the Bible, of right and wrong, and very little of the outside world. She said that a woman's body was sacred and should not ever be shared except with only one man, and that man had to be the most special man in the world to the woman. Papa was a gentle and very caring man and would take me on trips into town from time to time, and so I was always daddy's little girl, feeling very close to my pa but never close at all my new step-mother.
When I turned 18 papa asked me what I wanted for my gift and I said that I wanted a real dress. Like I had seen the women at church wear. A flowing dress that made me feel pretty. He smiled and said that, yes, he had to accept that his little girl was a woman now and all grown up and so deserved to start to look and feel like a woman. We got in the pick-up and drove into town.
The lady in the fancy store said I was a size 12, but that it was hard to find a dress to fit me because of the size of my boobs. Not wanting to hear about our discussion Papa wandered off to go look at guns in another store. She measured me up and said that I was a 42 G across the bust line. I knew I had big boobs compared to my step-mother and the ladies at church but I didn't know what 42 G meant. She said that it meant that I would need a special bra and that she would have to let out the dress I had selected for it to fit properly. I had never wore a bra before as my step-mother was against them for a young lady. So the lady at the store had to help teach me how to put it on. It was so complicated and there were so many little clasps in the back I could not reach. She also said I should have some nice underwear and some high heel shoes to make the outfit complete. I had never worn fancy shoes before and she had to teach me how to walk in them as well. She then said it would take a while for her to alter the dress and suggested I go across the road to get my hair and make-up done at her friends spot. She called ahead so that she could charge all the costs from her location, understanding that I had no money. I knew papa didn't have much money either, but I wanted to look as pretty as I could for him, so without reservation I went over to the fancy hair salon.
When papa got back he was pissed at the cost for everything and I heard him arguing with the lady as I was finishing putting on my dress in the change room. But when I came out into the store he just stopped talking. I stood there with my long black hair down around my shoulders, all curled and shampooed, with my white summer dress showing my bare shoulders and stopping short of my knees to reveal my calves. My fancy bra pushed up my boobs to cause my ample cleavage to spill into view at the top of the dress. The new shoes had narrow heels on them 3 inches high according to the lady, which accentuated by smooth calves and pushed my well rounded tush outward. Papa just stared at me, his mouth gaping wide open.
"Do you think that I am pretty, papa?" I asked.
"You are an angel darling, a true angel. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen." My daddy exclaimed. He made me feel like a queen! I ran over to my papa and gave him a big loving hug but was surprised to find a hard big object pushing against my belly. I thought he must have bought a new gun and reaching down tried to push it away. I wrapped my hand around the gun and ya, it was certainly big around for a gun barrel, and kinda long for one too, but I couldn't get it to budge. You see I was still a virgin and never had been with a boy before, having no school to go to and living on our dirt road, so I didn't know what it was. It was inside his pants, I gathered at least that much.
Papa smiled at the sales lady while pushing my hand away and paid her in cash without further argument. Then papa told me to get in the truck and taking me by the hand hurriedly rushed me toward the truck door. As we drove home I noticed how papa kept looking over at me. He seemed so distracted that he almost ran off the road a few times. He looked at my hair, and at my bright red lipstick painted lips. He asked if I had more make-up and if I had been taught how to put it on and I said yes to both. He looked at my neck and my chest, spending a lot of time seeming to be trying to figure out how my new bra fit around my boobs. When we would hit a pothole or rut in the road and the vibration of the truck would cause my exposed cleavage to jiggle and shake daddy would stare intensely at the soft white flesh bounce about, as if he were afraid that my boobs might burst free from my bra.
Daddy also looked down a lot at my knees and calves and my bare thighs, which had become largely exposed by my sitting on the tight seat. He said I was an angel and that he had never noticed before how beautiful I was. He said that I had pretty legs and a pretty chest and that I should save these clothes to wear only for him when mother was away. He said that way I would always be his birthday girl. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and agreed that this was a good idea.
As we travelled on he kept staring at my chest and I asked him if he was interested in my bra. Papa said that was it, yes, and that it was a very nice one, that he hadn't seen such a pretty one before. My summer dress had a number of buttons running from the top to my navel and I asked him if he would like me to undo them so that he could see the bra better. He said that if that was what I wanted to do, then sure, why not. I undid the four buttons and pulled back the material. The white bra covered my boobs, but just barely. The lady at the store had said the bra that it was the only 42G bra she had in stock and that it was designed to accentuated the natural beauty of my cleavage. I wasn't sure what she meant, but I had noticed when she put it on me how it barely covered my nipples and that it pushed my boobs up so that they looked like large white round watermelons.
I really liked the nice white lace around the edges of the bra and asked papa if he liked the lace too. Reaching over papa ran his fingers over the lace that lifted my right breast. He said that the lace was very pretty and I smiled back at him, enjoying the compliment on my bra. He then ran his fingers over the entire bra and under the bra, slightly lifting the belly of my boob. He then returned his fingers back to the lace and sliding two fingers underneath rubbed the smooth puffy flesh of my covered boob. Then he let his fingers slide into the valley between my peaks and rubbed his fingers up and down there, making me laugh and giggle from the tickling sensation.
He then let his fingers slide up the flesh of my left breast to the lace on the bra there. Running his fingers up and down over the lace he then pulled the lace to the side. This had the effect of revealing the nipple on my left breast. My areoles are a bright pink and about the size of the rim around a coffee cup. For some reason papa's touching of my bra had made my nipples get hard and I looked down to see the pink nipple standing outward and erect. It was about the diameter and length of my pinky finger down to the first knuckle. I didn't mind how papa seemed to stare at my nipple. I didn't really get boobs or nipples, or understand why a man might be interested in them. My step-mother had told me they were for feeding babies, and that with my boobs and big nipples that I could feed hundreds of babies. I thought she meant that my boobs and nipples were big and ugly, like a cows udders. But papa seemed to be rather fond of them! And anything that made my papa happy made me happy.
Holding back my bra by the lace for quite some time papa continued staring at my nipple until he almost went off the road again. Regaining control of the truck he then quickly flicked my big nipple with his finger, making me giggle and smile, before he released the lace. "Ya, very nice lace on your bra. And such very pretty nipples that you have." I smiled at the compliment and gave daddy a kiss on his warm cheek. "How does the bra stay up?" He then inquired. I explained that it had four hooks in the back that the lady had to do up for me. I said it was too complicated for me to get done up by myself and I didn't know how I would get out of it later tonight. Papa was kind enough to offer to undo them for me. He said that as I would only be wearing my outfit for him when we were alone that he could therefore always help me on and off with the bra. Daddy was so thoughtful and loving that it made me feel all warm inside.