Page 1 of Spank Me, Daddy

1

EMMA

Ishould’ve closed my door. God, IknewI should have because purposefully leaving it open for someone to look inside and seeing me get undressed was wrong.

And that’s exactly what I did.

The late afternoon summer sun filtered through the sheer white curtains, casting a soft, hazy glow across my room. The air was cool, the AC working overtime to cool the house from the ninety degree heat outside.

At twenty-years-old, I still lived at home with my father. I’d come in from taking a cool dip in the backyard pool, but even still, my skin felt too tight, my suit suctioned and clinging in all the wrong—or right—places.

I stood with my back to the door, pulling off my string bikini top, the material damp and now cold as it slid over my bare skin.

I dropped the top to the floor, and for a second, I just stood there in my tiny bikini bottoms, my arms above my head, the light washing over my bare breasts and puckered nipples.

My heart was already beating too fast—not from the heat or the sun but from thefeelingthat he watched me.

My father. Daddy.

It was a prickling sensation that started at the base of my neck and made the fine hairs on my arms rise.

I wasn’t alone, and that made my pussy get all nice and juicy. Daddy was home, and he was watching his little girl get undressed.

I turned, and there he was.

Liam. My father. Looking hot as hell in his three-piece suit, his big, hard and muscular body concealed by the expensive material.

We said nothing as I took my time looking at his tall, broad, and seemingly too big to fit in the doorway body.

His gaze wasn’t on my face. It was lowered, dark and heavy-lidded, taking in my bared tits in with a hunger I yearned to see daily.

Having this kind of sexual relationship with my father was frowned upon. Obviously. It was taboo and wrong on every single level. It wasn’t accepted by society, but we didn’t care.

We’d been hot and heavy for the last year, right after he walked in on me changing—just like today—and something sparked and crackled between us.

And since then, we hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other.

For a moment, neither of us said a word. Neither of us breathed.

I should have felt ashamed. Embarrassed that my little pussy was wet for my father. But my heart pounded harder, and I clenched my thighs to stem off the feeling of my pussy cream slipping down my inner thighs.

Daddy’s gaze burned over me like a physical–tangible–touch.

“Your mother’s out,” he said finally, voice low, rough like gravel.

We both knew where she was. Fucking her boyfriend that she’d started having an affair with two years prior. Hell, she barely spoke to either of us anymore. I was pretty sure she was having some kind of midlife crisis where she reinvented herself, dressed half her age, and even found a man not much older than me.

His gaze dragged up to meet mine, and my breath hitched at the raw intensity there. “You should close your door, baby girl.”

Baby girl. The words hit me low in my belly and worked its way down to spear right between my legs. I grew wetter, and my clit throbbed and tingled. I shivered even though the room was warm enough I shouldn’t have.

But my father always gave me such a visceral reaction.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could I say? That he and I both knew I left my door open on purpose so he would walk in on me and then… fuck his daughter?

I didn’t speak, didn’t cover up. I just stood there, heart racing, wanting him toseeevery single inch of my body. Wanting tofeelthat hunger I glimpsed in his eyes when he looked at me when no one else was watching.

He stepped forward. Just one slow, deliberate step. And it was enough to make my knees weak. Daddy closed the door, sealing us in, giving us this taboo privacy.