Big Daddy Wants Me

8: Josh.

It's one in the morning.

I can't sleep.

My head is pounding. Everything was just so f****d up.

I don't understand a thing. Only a couple of days ago, Anna has been my little girl - my sweet little daughter.

And now?

Now I can't get her parting words out of my head: "I'm going to go to my room and jerk off thinking about how badly my stepfather wants to see my t**s and ass."

The f****d-up thing is that she is right.

She knows.

I'm still awake when I hear a little movement on the other side of my bed about an hour later.

"Josh?" she says, shaking my shoulder. "Big Daddy?"

Oh boy. She only calls me that when she is feeling like a little kid, needing comfort.

"What is it, sweetie?" I asks gently, trying to keep the whirlwind of emotions I'm feeling out of my voice.

"Can I sleep with you?" she asks. "Please?"

After everything that had happened tonight, everything that was said, she still just wants to be my little girl.

"Of course, baby girl," I answer, sliding the blanket sheets back so she could be comfortable, and stretching out my arm. She crawls closer under the covers and nuzzle her face into my neck, and I wrap my arm around her, hugging her close.

We'd slept like this for months after her mother moved to Miami. At first, neither of us were sure what to say to the other to express how much we needed each other. We only had this, a physical clinging, until eventually we'd had a good talk about the future. I'd promised her that I would always be her Big daddy; would always look after her. And she had smiled and said, "I promise I'll always be your little girl."

It's my little girl who is in my arms tonight. As long as we can find our way back to that, we will figure the rest out.

"I feel so bad about what I said," she says after a minute.

"That's okay, sweetie." I pull her head close and kiss her forehead, trying to ignore the crush of her soft breasts against my arm as I do so. "I feel bad, too. It wasn't a good night."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you."

I sigh. "It's not that. You are a grown woman, as you say. I just want to make sure you're making smart choices, is all. I worry about you."

"And you're having trouble accepting that I grew up."

I let out a soft laugh. "I guess so."

She wrap a small arm across my chest, and slide a bare leg over top of mine, pulling me into a tighter hug.

I feel a stirring in my groin and sigh inwardly. I will have to figure this out. It can't go on like this.

After a minute, she giggles. "Are you even breathing?" she asks. "You're as still as a stone."

"I'm just trying to sleep, honey," I say. Lies.

I'm just trying not to get hard from my daughter hugging me.

"You can't sleep if you're that tense." She clearly isn't sleepy, either. Her voice sounds playful. "You need a... wrestle fight!"

With quick reflexes, she pushes herself up on top of me, straddling my hips with her legs and trying to weasel her fingers into my armpits to tickle me, cackling with sudden laughter.

I curl my body together, as if to protect myself from her assault, and grunts. We used to have wrestle fights when she was younger. Usually I would start it, if she was feeling sullen or cranky - I would start tickling her until she couldn't resist laughing. But sometimes she would pounce on me out of the blue, loving getting her revenge and I think enjoying seeing my reaction, too. The way I would reflexively get defensive. This time, though, I am extra defensive. I don't want her noticing my swelling c**k.

"Anna!" I snap. "You're too old for this. Stop it!"

But she's dissuaded by my angry tone. "Never!" she giggles, burying her head in the pillow beside me, and trying to push my thighs down straight with her butt, getting her small fingers between my arms and tickling me sharply.

"Ow!" I choke out, laughing despite myself, "your tickles hurt!"

"Then make me stop," she challenges. Even in the dim light, I can see her eyes gleaming with joy.

Just like we've done a thousand times, I grab her small arms, pinning them to her sides, and push her up and away from my chest, my smile fading as she sits back and I feel her press down on my c**k.

We've done this a thousand times, but this time is different. I have a semi, and as she straddles me... she feels it.

"Oh," she says quietly. We've both stopped laughing, but her voice is still playful.

Still pinning her arms, I swing her over onto her side. "Anna, stop." I say seriously.

I let go of her arms and she runs one of her hands across my chest - stroking it. It isn't a child's touch.

I can feel my heart hammering in my chest, and I stare at the ceiling, trying to think the least sexy thoughts I can. I think about work. I have a 24-hour shift coming up tomorrow. It will be good for me to get away from Anna for a night and sleep in a dorm with a bunch of guys.

"Josh," Anna says softly, not laughing now, climbing back on top of me and straddling me tight with those smooth, bare legs. She presses her crotch down on my c**k, which swells harder in response, and rests her hands against my chest.

"Stop it," I hiss angrily, grabbing her hips and lifting her up.

She runs one of her hands down my body, between her legs, and over the bulge in my boxers. My c**k surges at her touch.

"You like it," she breathes.

"Stop it right now," I hiss angrily, pushing her off me forcefully. "What has gotten into you?"

But I can feel her watching me - intently. Curiously. Something has shifted between us.

Everything seems extraordinarily quiet except the sound of our breaths.

Without saying anything, she runs her hand across my chest again, her nails tracing their way through my chest hair and I stay stock still, unable to move.

My c**k is straining against my boxers. Oh f**k. I wish there is some alternate world where she can bend down and pull my c**k out and lower her hot little teenage mouth over it. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I need to regain control. I need to stop this.

She slides her hand down past my stomach and runs her fingers over the bulge in my shorts again. This time my c**k is fully engorged, and she cups it through the fabric.

Still, I stay frozen. I don't know what to do. I am having trouble thinking straight.

"Do I turn you on, Josh?" she asks quietly, gently squeezing my throbbing c**k. I don't answer, but I can hear my breath trembling. "Do you like this, Daddy?"

"Stop," I plead, weakly.

She straddles me again, this time grinding her p***y against me until I grab her hips and holds her still.

"Anna," I warn.

She stops moving and I loosen my grip, but then she grabs one of my hands and slide it up under her tank top until my palm is cradling the full, heavy weight of her breast.

For one second, I let it all happen.

I roll my head back and lift my hips against her and I squeeze the incredible soft fullness of her breast, feeling her hard, peaked n****e against my hand. I can c*m right then, just like that, but with all the willpower I have I pull my hand away and exhale heavily.

"Get off me, Anna."

"You want to f**k me, don't you, Josh?" she asks. Her voice sounds incredulous, but not, somehow, judgmental. It is like a realization is dawning, and she doesn't know what to think about it yet.

"Anna, this needs to stop. You've gone too far." Once more, I push her off me. For good measure, I sit up, planting my feet on the ground on the other side of the bed. My back is turned to her, and I bury my face in my hands.

I am so ashamed of what is happening.

And I am still unbelievably turned on. My c**k is rock hard.

She doesn't say anything. And after a moment, I hear her get up and leave the room.

I sit there for a long time afterwards. I don't know how long - maybe half an hour. I am heartbroken. I don't want to lose my little girl.

And at the same time, I am aching with need.

I can still feel her full breast in my hand - the hard point of her n****e.

I am a pervert and a creep. Every time I think of her touch, I get hard again.

Eventually, I lower my boxer shorts and drop them on the floor. I grab the box of Kleenex and move it closer. For the third time in my life, I take my c**k in my hand and start rubbing myself off, thinking of my own daughter, telling myself, nobody knows about this except me.

Although that isn't true, is it? Anna knows about it too.

As I stroke myself, I feel the familiar waves of pleasure washing through me. I am losing myself to the bliss of s****l pleasure. I wants to c*m so badly - I wants to c*m so hard.

Yet there is something I need. I figure if I am in for a penny, I am in for a pound, and I take a break, reaching for my phone and open up the page I want: OnlyFans.com/badgirl_anna. I scroll until I find the video of her m**********g.

Those t**s. The way she'd felt under my hand. God.

How tight her little p***y would be.

She was a virgin.

I squeeze myself, stroking hard and teasing the head, until I start clenching my ass as if I really am f*****g someone, as if I am thrusting into her tight little p***y, and I start cumming, squirting c*m into the Kleenex in my hand and clenching my jaw against the hard gasps coming out of my mouth. f**k, I want to scream. It feels so good.

I look down at the phone, little spasms still jerking through my c**k while the last drops of my c*m spurt out and finish watching Anna c*m: "Ooh that feels good," she's saying, her lips parting and her brow furrowing as her orgasm came. "Oh my God, I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm going to c*m. Oh my God. Oh f**k, yes."