Don't Tell Mommy That I'm Sucking Daddy Claus - Veronica Sloan - ebook

Kaylee's been good all year and she's hoping that daddy will finally stuff her stocking. They've been sending each other photos in secret, right under mommy's nose, but now Kaylee wants the real thing. On Christmas eve, she tells her father to dress up like Santa Claus so she can sit in his lap. He's been a good boy, too, and he deserves something that only a horny virgin can give.~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~With a curious smile, Cynthia rolled her shoulder against mine. "Has dad been talking about their sex life?"I blushed a little. "I know they don't have one..."Cynthia ran her fingers through her honey blonde bangs. Her expression said this was a scandalous conversation but the gesture revealed the dirty gossip in her heart. "You shouldn't get in the middle of it, Kay.""They always fight around this time of year," I sighed. "More than usual, I mean.""Yeah," she sighed back. "My friends love Christmas but I just can't wait for it to be over. I remember the only part I really liked was when dad dressed up like Santa. Wish he still did that, even though it's silly."A happy shiver ran down my spine. I still hadn't told daddy about my present. "Mmm," I purred.Cynthia's eyes narrowed to slits. "There's something up with you lately. I've only been back a few days but... Oh, God." She grabbed my shoulder. "Kay, did you finally do it?"I was so focused on daddy that I couldn't help grinning. "Not yet," I whispered."Who's the guy?""Not telling.""Tell!" she said. "Anyone I know?""Santa Claus."She snorted as she laughed. "Uh-huh. Sure. Is he coming down the chimney tonight to stuff your stocking?""I hope so," I said. "Seriously, though. You have to use protection."I shook my head. "Nope. I want it to be perfect. I want him to feel me giving him everything."Cynthia clucked her tongue. "That's not an option, honey. Birth control's not enough."I shook my head again. "You're not on it?" She smacked my arm. "Then you have to!"Our conversation was sending nervous tingles up and down my naked calves. I bounced up on my toes and clenched the cheeks of my butt. "Don't tell mom, okay? I want him to have the best Christmas ever."Cynthia opened her mouth to dispense more sisterly advice, then her teeth clamped shut with an audible click. She glanced quickly over the bannister again. "Wait a second. Who's 'him,' in this situation?"I shot her a dirty, filthy, naughty smile. "I told you. Santa Claus."My sister's gray eyes grew into big, big circles. "Kaylee!" she hissed. "Are you insane?"I scooted my butt against her and grabbed her trembling hands. "Please don't tell mommy," I said. "I just want him so badly.""This is crazy!" she said. She stared at me, breathing sharply, trying to find the sense in my hungry eyes. "You can't--" She stopped herself and lowered her husky voice. "You can't have sex with dad!""Mommy won't.""There's something wrong with you. And if he knows then he's in even more trouble than you are!"I squeezed her hands. "He doesn't know yet. But we've been...doing things."I didn't think it was possible for her eyes to get any wider.

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Don't Tell Mommy That I'm Sucking Daddy Claus

© Copyright 2017, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved

NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse and consensual incest. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are 18-years-old and older. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Cover design by Veronica Sloan. Cover photo © IgorBorodin.

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The first time my dad sent me a video of him jerking off, that's when I knew we were in super naughty territory.

You know what? I take that back. When I was sitting cross-legged in my bed, naked, curling my toes against each other, holding my phone and shaking with anticipation, that's when I knew. When I was waiting for my dad to send me a picture of his dick, that's when I knew.

The seconds felt like minutes. The minutes felt like hours. I'd just sent him a picture of my shaved lips. I'd been playing with myself for ten minutes and they were thick and wet and so, so ready for more than just my fingers. The things you never imagine you'll do...

It was two in the morning. The house was quiet, the street was asleep. I was sitting up in my bed, the lamp on my bedside table burning a warm but dim yellow. The picture I sent him was lit by that little yellow light. It made everything look grainy--my skin, the shadows, my sheets. When dad bought me my phone, the sales guy promised that it took super high-resolution photos, but that picture of my teenage pussy, a picture I took in the heat of the moment, horny and half-crazy, the light was too dim to give it the high resolution we were promised. It made the photo look even trashier. My swollen, naked labia was barely visible. You could make out my legs and the curve of my stomach, the shadow of my slit and barest glimpse of my bellybutton. What came through most clearly was the sticky residue shining on my smooth inner thighs. Would he even know what he was looking at?

So I wrote a caption to it. "This is what an 18 year old pussy looks like," I typed with my trembling thumbs. I sent it, then as an after thought I added: "Do u remember?"

It was a tease. It was such a tease. Then the dots appeared, the dots that told me he was typing something back.

"When I was your age...girls didn't send boys pictures like that," he wrote.

I bit my lip and started to type back, but then I noticed my nipples. Is it weird that I get turned on by my own breasts? My heart was beating so hard that they bounced on my chest. And as I watched myself bounce the sight and sensation of my nipples hardening turned me on even more. I pinched myself, and took a picture of my nipple flattened between my thumb and forefinger. I sent him that one, too. "When you were my age you were probably still jerking off to stone tablets," I captioned it. "It's the 21st century, daddy."

Daddy. What the hell was I doing? While he was still typing his response I fired another text at him, my thumbs blazing over the digital keyboard: "And in the 21st century, boys show girls how much they appreciate sexy selfies." I couldn't stop fingering myself while I waited for his response.

It came swiftly. "U want a selfie?" he wrote.

I sent him a happy face emoji. And touched myself. I sent another happy emoji. Then an impatient emoji.

And then daddy sent me a picture of his dick.

"Oh my God," I whispered aloud. Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was the flash of his cellphone, but it looked so insanely thick. The veins that webbed the side of his shaft were thrown into sharp relief by the flash and made it look like he'd snapped the pic mid-throb. It was disgustingly big. His foreskin wasn't pink and fresh and perfect, it was mottled everywhere, a mix of tan and brown and red from the blood pumping through his veins. The juicy penis rose from a messy nest of black pubic hair, so unlike my own freshly shaven mound. But that was the point. He wasn't a young man, he didn't trim or wax or laser; he was a dirty old man with a dirty old cock. A cock that got hard from looking at the wet pussy of his own daughter!

"Is that how the kids do it these days?" he wrote me.

I had to drop my phone and comb my fingers through my hair. I was laughing, I was sweating, my heart was beating so hard my breasts thumped like I was jogging in place. He was two doors down! He was in his bathroom--the bathroom he shared with mom! I could hear her snoring...

I couldn't believe this was happening. I trapped my hands between my thighs and rubbed myself rotten. I made my father hard! I didn't know what to write. I didn't know what to do. I just pushed my knuckles into my cunt and massaged myself in the most frustrating way. I'd been touching myself for so long to no satisfying conclusion. And then daddy sent the video.

He wasn't just masturbating. He was masturbating with my panties. When did he steal them? It must have been recently because I recognized the pair: a stained pair of cheekies from the last day of my period. In the video he wrapped the panties around his shaft and rubbed that disgustingly fat cock of his. I could hear him grunting but trying to be quiet. My father. That was what my father sounded like when he masturbated!

So I had to send him one of me, right?

I wanted it to be dirty. I didn't want it to be pretty and perfect and graceful. I wanted him to see how miserable I was, how wretchedly horny I was. I set up the cellphone against my lamp and got on my stomach. I made sure the camera just caught me from behind, that my butt cheeks filled the frame, that all he got was a big wet view of my fingers sliding in and out of my creamy pussy. As I recorded those nasty few seconds of me fucking myself, I whispered, "Daddy."

It was so quiet he'd have to hold the phone to his ear to hear it, but I knew he would. He'd hear it. His little girl sending him an absolute mess of a video, my feet twisting in the air, toes curling against each other. "Daddy..." Whimpering. "Daddy!" Gasping. "Daddy, I'm so fucking wet!"

The next video he sent me was of the semen bursting from the slit in his cock. That tipped me over the edge. My own father was jerking off to me. My own father sent me a video of him ejaculating! I wedged my face into my pillows and forced a another pillow between my thighs and rode my way to a nasty climax. I just kept replaying the video of my father cumming into my panties.