Daddy’s Secret Diary


Introduction:
A peek at a man’s diary, which records some of the very intimate moments he spends with his daughter

DADDY’S SECRET DIARY

My diary is ‘Secret’ because here I relate, in total candour, random events of my life as a single father, and details of my very special relationship with you, Alika, my only daughter.

‘Secret’ means that no-one else must know, and no-one else will read the contents of this extremely intimate journal. Society would never understand. But you, my darling Alika will surely stumble upon it one day after I’m gone. You’re the only one I want to know what has been in my heart and in my mind and body since your mother, my wife Carol, was wrenched away from us in that awful accident, which even now is almost unbearable to recall. So you will know just how much you have meant to me since then, and how I have come to love you as I loved her. Perhaps a little more. You are the only one who will understand.

01 October 2006

Dearest Alika, I start to write this journal just fifteen years after her death. She was the only woman I ever loved, until our own close relationship took on a new dimension almost two years ago. Of course I loved you from the day of your birth, as a baby, as a child. But now I love you as a woman.

Our love is certain. I say “I love you Babygirl”. You say “I love you too, Daddy”. But there are things that we don’t say to each other – even in the most intimate of moments we have enjoyed so many times now, there are feelings we don’t express, fears about this taboo love we share but don’t dare enunciate and can’t share with those around us. It’s important you know things from my side. Even if you will only begin properly to understand much later, when I am no longer part of your life.

You were so young when your mother left us. It was gut-wrenching to hear you ask for her ceaselessly in the beginning. You needed her as much as I did, perhaps more; a baby girl needs her mother. I made every effort to distract you from her disappearance. Eventually, you stopped asking where she was, and as you became old enough to grasp the concept of death, you finally, finally understood. We were destined to live without her elegant presence, her odours, her touch, her pure beauty, her wisdom, her smile, her gentleness. Her love.

I was destined to survive without having her warm, soft body next to mine at night, her complicity, her understanding, her sexuality, her great passion.

I tried to be a good father to you. I made sure you were looked after when I was working, because I had to work to pay the bills, Babygirl – you understood didn’t you? And I was always there to share quality time with you when I was not working. It was unthinkable that I should consider the idea of another woman sharing our lives – though more than once, in your child-like way, you asked me to find you another mummy. And our vacations together were very special; that’s when we were closest.

And now, you are an adult. And I live in Heaven and Hell at the same time. For no-one in the ‘normal’ world outside could ever begin to understand my forbidden, deep love for you, nor any of what has happened in recent times. You are so much like your mother, Alika. For me, you have become your mother, my wife. Your long slender body, your green eyes, your soft blond hair, your pale skin and flawless complexion. Your sparkling personality, your vivacity and all those qualities she had, are now evident in you. When I look at you, I see her. When I touch you I touch her. When I make love with you, I am with her and inside her and you both at the same time. And I love you as much as I loved her – and in the same ways. You have finally and totally fused with the greatest love of my life, and become the same object of my enormous passion.

I know I have to avoid suffocating you. I have to give you your breathing space, never interfere when you leave the house, though my solitude then is almost unbearable. I know you see young men, and surely have sex with them. But I stay detached as far as I can from the half-imagined terror of your young vibrant body being invaded by another, to try not to let that monster of jealousy rise up to engulf me. What I want can never be achieved, I know that. My Paradise is also my Eternal Fire. I live with it every day.

03 October 2006

You were out all night again, Alika. I missed you so much. Fathers fret, you know, be their kids young or grown up. I worried and worried incessantly, but restrained my urge to start telephoning all over to find out where you were.

Then I heard you arrive home, silently climb the stairs and enter your bedroom around seven. I heard your toilet flush, imagined you sitting there, legs akimbo, peeing, wiping your sweet pussy with quilted paper, then standing naked before the bathroom mirror to brush your long hair, your pretty tummy pressed forward, your bum cheeks firm and round and loveable. Like I used to watch you and admire you before. Maybe you just fell into bed, hair deranged, makeup still on, worn out but beautiful. I could sleep now that you were safely home

How I wanted you to come to me, slide willingly, naked into my warm bed and press your cool, smooth body against me like you have done before, feel your full, firm breasts and pointy nipples against my back, your foot, thigh and pussy rubbing suggestively over my leg. And telling me that you loved me again and again. In desperate anticipation, my penis was hard as ever, waiting for you if you wanted it. I’m sure you guessed that I would be there, waiting on tenterhooks, in case you felt the need to join me. It would have been enough to just have you there with me, and during the night, to caress you, to calm my anxiety, to know that you were all right and that you wanted to be with me. But I know the rules. We agreed them.

I slept a little, but not enough. Before leaving for business this morning, I dared to look into your room, without disturbing you. I stayed by the entrance to your forbidden zone, not braving to approach your bed, nor touch you. Only your head was visible above the sheet, and you slept like an angel, like you were ten years old again, breathing shallowly. I loved you in my mind and heart and body, to bursting.

07 October 2006

We had dinner together today, for the first time in a week. It was so good to have you back with me, even for a short time. You were sloppily dressed for staying in, no makeup. Jeans and an old sweater of mine. You like to wear my sweaters, and that is a joy to me; afterwards, when you take it off I can hold it, I can smell your perfume, your soap, your skin odour, and it’s as though I’m inside you once again, part of your body, though I have a dreaded fear that a fully satisfying coupling between us may not happen again. You will decide.

When you’re away from me I can handle and smell your clothing too, your delicate underwear. It’s my way of being with you even if you’re absent.

And yes, dear Alika, I masturbate into your slips, your bras, your night T-shirt. Whatever you choose to give me each morning, always knowing, understanding and accepting my needs, without questioning. You know not to give me a slip with someone else’s semen stains. Lonely masturbation is not what I want for the best, but I can imagine you’re here with me. Covering my face with your slip, I smell your odours, urine, sex juices. Erection in hand, I extract all the odorous pleasure that I can before wrapping the chosen gift of clothing around my swollen penis and rubbing it, rigid and bursting with desire, tingling with lust and passion, hopeless with love for you my Babygrl. I always ejaculate powerfully, my semen dedicated to you and I call your name out loud. I wait and I wait for the next time you will be ready for me. I ask nothing else but your love, and that you tell me sometimes. I am patient because I worship you.

During dinner, I smiled and watched you as we talked, about everything in the world – other than those desperately worrying matters I wanted to broach but daren’t. You chatted animatedly and energetically about your work, your art, your friends. I listened, hoping you would ask me about my day too. I just listened and adored you. My evening lit up, just having you across the table.

My penis was at full attention, invisible under the table, as my eyes took in your wonderful unfettered breasts which jutted against the thin wool of my sweater, the pointy young-woman’s nipples outlined clearly to my gaze. I looked into your pale makeup-less face, those lively green eyes: I watched your fine lips move as you spoke, and your smile made my heart melt as always. I was happy again, despite knowing that this pleasure was but for a short evening, and that tomorrow you’d be missing again for a time – you’d go back into your other teenage/adult world, from which I was excluded. I know the rules.

After dinner, with a light, but lingering kiss to my cheek and a hand on my shoulder, you were gone, to your bedroom. I waited and I wanted. Your room is forbidden territory by mutual consent. If you were to come to me, if anything intimate was to happen between us, then it would be on my ground, in my bedroom, or in the lounge, anywhere but in your inner sanctum, your secret garden as you call it.

I went up to my own lonely bedroom. I heard your music. What you play tells me what kind of mood you are in. I listened, and I knew you wouldn’t be slipping into my bed tonight. Your soft body was out of bounds this time.

You made a phone call, which went on for a long time; I tried not to listen to what you were saying. I heard the clickclick of your computer keyboard. I heard a faint buzzing. I cried silently: “Come to me , Babygirl, I can make you feel better than a vibrating plastic tube”. I didn’t hear your orgasm, you must have celebrated it silently. Later, I heard light-footed movement, the sound of you brushing your teeth, water running, you were peeing, toilet flushing. Then nothing.

Later, I masturbated alone in my room as usual, looking at your photo, the nude one we took in the Paris hotel room last year, and clutching one of your slips to my turgid member. The pressure in my testicles had been building all evening, and as ever, it didn’t take me long to get to the highest level of excitement, to fill your slip with the seminal juices I really wanted to feel squirting into your lovely body. The intense orgasm was a welcome release. All evening I had wanted this climax to be shared with you my darling Alika, but once again I am condemned to wait. Until you are ready to receive my worship of your body.

10 October 2006

I came home late last evening, after my gym session, crept in by the unlocked kitchen door. I didn’t know whether I’d see you; you had not told me of your plans for the evening.

I don’t think you heard me, and when I entered the lounge, I saw you. You had recently showered, you were half lying, half sitting on the couch, on a large bath sheet, a cushion behind your towell-dried hair, eyes closed, as though sleeping. I couldn’t be sure, you were breathing shallowly. The television blinked blankly, as though a DVD had come to the end. You were wearing your very flimsy white bedroom robe, silky, sexy and almost transparent, the very expensive one I bought you on our lovers’ weekend in Paris last year. I knew you were waiting for me, Babygirl.

I could see the outline of your bra-less breasts and the slight folds of your body pressing against the material. Lower, I saw that the robe had fallen open to reveal that you wore no panty. One hand rested on your lower belly, fingers lightly touching your mound of venus – not rubbing, not moving, just resting there. One of your pale legs was crooked slightly, and to one side, which gave me a view of the short, soft blond hairs at your secret opening. Not shaved, but cropped very close, the way I like, the way I remembered it, the last time I was this close to your naked body.

It had been too long Alika. You looked so desirable, and my penis began to twitch; I detected the rapid flow of blood into my organ, felt the head swelling, that pleasant sensation which preceeds the hardening. My heart picked up to a faster beat, and I felt warm.

I took off my jogging top and went around the couch, torso naked, to your feet, to take in the length of your slender body. You looked so much like your mother; my heart leapt with love, with heartache and gut-wrenching desire. I felt it bumping in my chest.

You didn’t move at all, you just breathed slowly and soundlessly as I watched your breasts move under your robe. My eyes came back to your mons veneris, slightly covered by your motionless fingers.

I knelt down, to position myself in the crook of your leg, and ran my flat hands lightly along both pale, exposed thighs, feeling smooth, soft and surprisingly cool flesh against my palms. I detected the odour of bath salts. I had to move your hand, to clear access to your sex. It looked very inviting, lips peeking out of the cropped pubic hairs, the softest of labia lips just visible. I eased your leg further open, lowered your foot to the floor; you stirred, but still your eyes stayed closed. My hands ran along the top of both of your thighs again, the pleasant feel of your flesh made my itchy penis lengthen and harden a little more, until it began to push strongly against the front of my slip and jogging pants, the friction against the tip increasing the pleasure and flow of blood.

I floated my hands over your tummy, back down to your sex, ran a thumb over the soft folds of those pussy lips, then my hands back onto your thighs, to stroke along the insides, to your knees and back up to the centre of all pleasures.

I needed to suckle your breasts. Ever so gently, I leaned up over your glorious body and eased your robe off your shoulders, pulling it aside to gain access to those fleshy wonders. Your nude full breasts fell into my hands, my penis twitched violently. I cupped the firm young woman’s flesh for a while, appreciating the softness and the weight and the wonder of them. Then, taking care not to let my naked torso touch you, I bent my head to take a tiny pale nipple into my lips. I nibbled it with my closed lips first, then lightly with my teeth; it swelled in my mouth, became hard and rubbery, and I began to suck on it like a baby, touching it with the tip of my tongue.

I enjoyed the feel and the taste of the nipple in my mouth, breathed in your soap and perfume for a while. My hardness throbbed urgently now, and I had to free it from the confines of my slip, to allow it to expand fully. I pulled down the waist of my jogger and lowered my slip, feeling the cool air on my full erection. As I switched to your other breast and sucked lightly on its nipple to make it hard, my cock brushed momentarily against your inner thigh, hot against cool, hard against soft, rough against silky, forcing another violent jerking to take place. I held my hardness against your flesh for a moment, feeling the joy rise in my body.

While I suckled, my finger touched again the slippery folds of your pussy, seeking the opening of those lips, but not penetrating, just caressing, lightly. Would I risk awakening you, if I went further?.

I looked up; your sweet eyelids were still closed, but did you have a half-smile on your lips? Now, my head descended from your nipple and I began to plant small delicate kisses all the way down to your navel. My tongue dipped into your belly button and then the kisses of adoration continued down along the insides of your thighs, then slowly back up, close enough to your mons to detect that delicious odour emanating from your woman sex. That exciting smell of almost-moistness. Up onto your stomach, more butterfly kisses, then down again to your upper thighs. As I moved my upper body forward and back, my turgid cock brushed against the silkiness of your thigh and calf, and now I allowed my naked upper arms too, to feel the same softness. I placed my hands on either side of your waist, brushing my palms against your wonderful woman’s curves.

My mouth was now approaching the lips of your honeypot, to kiss, to smell, to taste. First a lick with the end of my tongue, then my mouth against those soft adorable lips, an open-mouthed kiss, sensing the delectable odour of your sex floating up into my nostrils. Then my tongue slipping through my own lips, to lick again those other, softer, feminine sex lips, to prise apart the labia folds and tiny pubic hairs and penetrate into your secret orifice…..ahhh the joy.

My cock free and cool but raging hot and iron-hard, pressed against your calf again, I moved my lower body slowly back and forth, benefiting from the friction of my hardness against your softness. Pre-cum juices dribbled out of the enlarged hole in the end of my penis, smeared against your flesh, lubricating my leg-fucking action. Meanwhile my tongue reached further into your sweet pussy, tasting your love juices. I felt the cropped hairs against my lips and the moistness inside your sex began to mix with my saliva, turning moistness into wetness. I drank, I tasted your nectar.

My tongue now deep inside, I closed my mouth entirely over your sex opening and kissed as though I would kiss your mouth, a full french kiss, deep and increasingly forceful. Then I withdrew my tongue and ran it over your clitoris above, pressing, stimulating, first lightly, then harder and more determined, pausing only to push my tongue once again into your cunny and taste anew your juices, now more and more plentiful. Then back to your now swollen clitoris.

I looked up to your face, which was less calm now; your eyes were still closed, but your breathing more agitated, your mouth open. Your lower body began to move, too, rising slowly but certainly up against my mouth, allowing one of my hands to slip underneath, to squeeze and cup your bum cheeks, run a finger along the fold of those cheeks, and touch that other secret orifice, your sweet, unviolated anus.

I felt you would soon be close to orgasm; I know your body language so well, Babygirl. There began that almost imperceptible trembling in your lower body. As I pressed a finger against your tight little ass hole, with my free hand, I held one of your breasts and fingered the nipple which became rigid-hard again. I was at once touching your breast nipple, your secret bum orifice, and my mouth was lavishing adoration on your sweet cunny. All the while my furious erection was rubbing against your leg, getting wetter and wetter with pre-cum, longing for your caress, but having to settle for the pleasure of the friction against your calf flesh. I felt you return the pressure that I was applying; there began a slow side-to-side movement of your leg, slight but certain, pressing sideways against my burning, throbbing monster. With the same movement, my shoulders touched the inside of your thigh.

Your breathing became louder and quicker, a tiny moan was audible. You became warm, then hot. Your lower body lifted up higher, you gasped, trembled. Your hips moved up and down rapidly, pressing your bum cheeks against my hand underneath with each downward thrust, my finger pressed against the entrance to your anus. Perspiration was beginning to collect in the cleft of your ass. My mouth clung to your pussy, my tongue pressing on your clitoris as I felt you pass the point of no return, and as the quaking became uncontrollable, I plunged my tongue hard and deep inside your vagina again, kissing your whole sex as I would kiss your mouth….a full, deep french kiss, as though seeking another tongue. Full of passion, full of love for you, my Babygirl.

My upper teeth bit your clit ever so gently, nibbling. You began a high pitched moan, mouth wide, face slightly contorted, teeth bared with passion. Your hands gripped the back of my head, caressed my neck, slipped down and gripped my bare shoulders, tighter and then tighter your fingers dug into my flesh as the waves of your orgasm flowed over you. I knew you were there.

You gasped, you moaned, you quivered, your hips jerked up and down several times within seconds, then the movements began to slow. And still your eyes stayed shut; who knows what images you had in your head as I ravaged your cunt and you felt these sharp convulsions of pleasure take over your body.

Gradually, your hip jerks subsided and I decreased the pressure on your clit. I withdrew my hand away from underneath your hot, moist bum cheeks. Your hips lowered, your legs relaxed to the side, you gave a huge sigh and stretched your limbs – your arms above your head and your long legs alongside my waist. I pressed my tongue one more time against your clit and your lower body suddenly jerked violently, as though your orgasm still had a tiny way to go. You laughed, as though to admit that I had just taken you by surprise with that last tiny burst of pleasure.

Your eyes opened, you raised your head and looked at me, my upper body still between your thighs, my mouth blowing cool air over your sex and belly. Your eyes, meeting mine, were moist, and I could detect intense emotion. You smiled contentedly. You closed your soft, hot thighs against my arms and shoulders, as though enveloping my body to make me your prisoner. You breathed: “Thank you, Daddy, that was the best. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

I smiled back: “Yes, babygirl. I know. And I adore you. And you know that too”.

We stayed there for a little while, saying nothing. I wanted to be between your thighs forever. I wanted to plunge my elongated, aching, rigid penis into your depths, feel the softness, the heat and wetness of your love juices as my cock thrust deeply into your sweet cunt. I wanted to kiss your mouth, taste your breath and your saliva. I wanted to take your tongue into my mouth and suck it hard. I wanted to plunge my tongue into your ear and breathe your name, tell you that I loved you. I wanted you to feel my lust, appreciate how powerful and indestructible I was right at that moment. I wanted to spew and spurt my semen into your womb, that forbidden orifice. I wanted to come and come and come, until you had accepted all of my forbidden seed into your womb. Like we had done before.

You knew my needs. You reached a long, pale, elegant arm behind the cushion supporting your head, pulled out an ivory coloured, silky panty. Handing it to me and smiling seductively, you breathed: “Do it for me Daddy”. I was sure you had worn the panty today; I plunged my nose into it, to inhale the odours of my Babygirl’s pussy juices and urine, breathed in your intimate sexual odours. “Do it for me, darling Daddy” you repeated, “Show me”.

I spread and opened the panty and wrapped it around my turgid member, as you wanted me to, and began to fist-fuck myself there in front of you, kneeling between your soft, hot, perspiring thighs and looking into your moist, smiling eyes. With my one hand, gripping hard, I rubbed and rubbed my itchy cock, never letting you leave my gaze for a single micro-second. With my other hand I stroked your belly, your breasts, your shoulders and your neck. You took my hand and placed two of my fingers in your mouth and sucked them gently, as you had once sucked my penis. Could you taste your own sex and anus? You stroked my naked, hairless chest with your fingers, lightly, lovingly. I began to breathe a little faster, and you looked down to watch my hand picking up pace as I rubbed my now fully swollen, angry dick harder and faster.

I let out a gasp, felt my ejaculation coming through my balls and along the length of my penis. I thrust my panty-wrapped cock against your crotch, the tip touching your darling cunny lips and enjoyed the feeling of a huge amount of semen spurting forcefully into the ivory coloured, silky material. As the ejaculation began, I took both of your magnificent breasts in my hands, squeezing gently, thumbs on your still-hard nipples. I jerked and jerked my lower body, pushed forward against your crotch. Almost, but not quite inside my Babygirl’s cunt. I sobbed your name. You cried out mine. You crooked your legs a little and closed your thighs against my waist, pulling me in towards you. You took my arms and pulled my upper body down until my face was between your glorious breasts, my naked chest against your belly. As the intense throbbing in my cock and balls slowed down and the potent, delectable spurting of seminal juice stopped, the violent twitching of my lower body lessened, you held the back of my head against your breasts and whispered: “There….now you feel better, Daddy…….”. You kissed my forehead, held your lips there.

Yes, darling Alika, I felt better.

My arms slipped around your sides, my hands up to your shoulder blades, and I held you as tight as I dared, my face pressed against the softness of your bosom. I was still shaking a little, still full of passion for my Babygirl, full of gratitude for this moment. I was at passionate, trembling peace.

We stayed like that for some minutes, it seemed. Then, after a while I felt your lips go away from my forehead, your grip on my head relaxed. I looked up to see your head back on the cushion and your eyes closed again. I made a trail of kisses down your belly; I kissed your moist pussy, licked some of the residue of juices away.

I squeezed the last drops of semen from the end of my penis, folded your cum-stained panty and wiped your cunny lips with it. You shuddered, made a mewing sound, half asleep. I rubbed my unshaven face against your inner thighs and tummy once more, before raising myself up off my knees and pulling up my slip to cover my half-erection, then my jogging pants.

I looked down upon your perfect beauty. I rearranged your robe, covering your pale shoulders and breasts, now slightly reddened from the friction of my face and from your own passion. I placed your legs together more comfortably on the couch, and closed the silky robe over your lower body. You were breathing shallowly. I knew you wanted to sleep. In a few minutes you would be my little ten year old daughter again, a sleeping beauty. Later you would find your way to your empty bed, but for now you were just fine where you were. Satisfied and drained.

You licked your lips, mumbled sleepily, smiling, eyes closed, as I left the room: “Keep the panty, Daddy, for later”.

I went to my bathroom, prepared myself for bed. I didn’t want to shower; I wanted your odours all around me tonight. And later, when I was recovered, and I heard you go to your room, heard you moving about, I masturbated again, as usual. I had your photo, And I had your ivory coloured panty, still moist from my earlier seminal discharge and full of your sex odours. And I had the intense memory of what had happened tonight.

And I knew you still loved me, Alika. It was enough.


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