My Daddy Chapter One.

OMG! I love it when my Daddy fucks me in the ass! I know no one ever believes it when someone says they have a big one or that they hooked up with some guy who is huge. I get it because I know it isn't common as most people seem to think, but I have measured Daddy's dick and I know it's 10 1/4" long and 3 1/2" around, you can believe it or not, its cool by me.

The first time I gave up my ass to him, it really hurt when he first tried to take it. Just trying to get the head of his cock was painful when it tried to stretch my butthole; Daddy had to stop and let me catch my breath several times. As much as it hurt, I was determined to keep trying, knowing it was what Daddy wanted. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him.

Daddy was the only one who ever cared about me or who actually listened to me. Everyone else, including my mom, acted like I didn't exist or was nothing more than pest. Mom actually despised me, I grew up being told repeatedly that she wished she had gotten an abortion, but the extra money she got every month stopped her, because it paid for her drugs.

Daddy, on the other hand, paid attention to me and acted like he enjoyed my company. He let me hang around his house whenever I wanted and let me roam around his home unattended, something no one else was allowed to do. In exchange for his friendship, I would get his beer for him and straighten up his house.

He introduced me to marijuana which I really liked, then later cocaine, which I didn't. Meth was my real favorite, but he wouldn't let me do more than two hits off the meth band made me promise to only do it with him. I would only do it on Saturday mornings, when I came over to do my chores.

Little by little over the years, I did more and more for him, with the help of my two hits off the meth pipe. I would vacuum and scrub the kitchen and bathroom floors. Then I would clean the toilet and shower, do laundry. Then there was alk the yard work in the back to do, plus cleaning the pool and hot tub. After that was all done I would watch movies with Daddy and smoke weed.

On Sundays, I would get to do my favorite thing of all, wash and wax and polish his black and chrome Harley Davidson motorcycle, which he kept out on the patio close to the sliding door to his bedroom. It took me the better part of the day, especially making the spokes of his wheels sparkle, but I loved it! It was his pride and joy, and letting me make it shine was a real treat for me.

After I got done with that I would shine his boots until they were like mirrors, all four pairs. Then I would clean and oil his leathers, his jacket and vest and his leather pants. It made me feel good to show my appreciation for his friendship, doing everything I could do he could sit back and relax.

I also learned a few things from Daddy, like how to use a digital scale and a triple beam to weigh what he called Product, which was coke it meth or weed. He also taught me to shoot with his AR-15 and shotgun and all of his handguns. I got really good at it and he bought me my own .22 which I had to keep at his house, like everything else he bought me, like my Xbox and stack of games.

I got to fill orders for his customers and take the money to his safe, which he gave me the combination to. I handled all his drug business so he could just kick back. I loved doing things for him so much, I wished I could live with him. I hated being at home while at his house, I was always happy.

Daddy, who told me to call him that the night we met, was super chill and awesome even though he had spend almost his entire life in prison for 2nd degree manslaughter and armed robbery. In prison he was what they call a Shot Caller, like the big one, which was why the cops never fucked with him. He could get at anyone, anytime, inside or out.

He was an intense guy who liked to fuck with people, scaring them because he liked it. You never know when he was going to turn in you, and no one was safe, not even me. I got used to it over time, but he scared the Hell out of me for than a few times. Mostly, he was super cool to me, so I didn't mind it when he scared me.

On my 16th birthday, Daddy bought a bunch of presents. I got more games, but what really excited me was the motorcycle boots and the leather pants. I was excited because it meant Daddy was finally going to take me for a ride on his Harley, which I had been wanting to do for a long time. I opened my last present, which turned out to be leather shorts, which I thought were way too small for me.

Daddy told me to try on the boots first, then take them off and try on my pants, which only covered my legs with a belt to hold them on. Daddy explained they were chaps and that they went over my pants or shorts. I tried them on and then gave them to Daddy to put away. I then went in the bathroom to try on the shorts.

I tried to out them on over my brief underwear, but that didn't work so I took them off and managed to get them on. They were rear tight fitting and there wasn't much to them. I put them on and looked in the mirror, but was embarrassed because they gave me a muffin top and barely covered my beefy butt. I gave never been physically active, and am chubby and out of shape, tiring easily. Plus, being small endowed the shorts flattened them down so I looked like a girl or a mannequin.

I was going to take them off but then I heard Daddy calling me out to let him see how they fit. Not wanting to disappoint him more than my feelings of embarrassment, I went out with my t-shirt pulled down to hide my fat. He was waiting, sitting on his bed in front of the bathroom door and told me to lift up my shirt so he could see. I lifted it up then waited for the laughter, but instead he said I looked awesome. When he said that I wasn't embarrassed any more and did a slow turn so he could see how they liked from behind.

He said I should wear them for the rest of the day, so I kept them on. An hour later, a customer came over to buy some meth. I didn't think about that, dressed like I was, but then Daddy called to bring him two 1/4 grams of meth. He took business seriously, so I had to take him the drugs. I walked out from the back wearing my leather shorts and a t-shirt I had shortened up a few inches.

They kept staring at me but didn't say anything, knowing Daddy's temper. When I saw that, I waa suddenly bit embarrassed any longer, and got more brazen showing myself off to them. I felt like I had a power over them, by way of Daddy, and it felt good. I cut my t-shirt even shorter, so my belly was exposed then would try to make them as nervous as possible for fun. Daddy always laughed when I did that.

One Sunday, I was doing my cleaning on his bike and it was really hit, so I took off my shirt and polished his spokes in just my shorts. Daddy came out and sat at his patio table to roll some joints. I smiled at him over my shoulder and he smiled back, then said I looked great. That made me smile as I finished and put away the wax and rage and stuff.

We smoked a joint as the sun went down; I had gotten a late start. Then Daddy broke out the meth pipe, something he never did late at night. He only let me smoke meth in the early morning so I was down off it when I went home. Without telling me, he had called my mom and asked if I could spend the night, which she didn't care about, one way or another. I was excited because I had always wanted to sleep over. Because of that, Daddy was going to let me clouds with him!

We smoked and watched some stupid movie, about a guy with a beard who beats everyone up. After the first bowl waa gone, I got Daddy a beer then rejoined him on the sofa, sitting up against him with my arm across the back of the sofa and my legs curled up under my. I was pretty high and felt like getting up and doing something, maybe scrub the floors but I found myself looking at Daddy through most of the movie.

I suddenly felt a deep connection to him, like we had some special bond. He meant the world to me and I knew I would do whatever he wanted, regardless of what it was. I almost cried thinking about how awesome he was and how important he was to me. I wanted to kiss him but I knew that would be creepy. Still I thought about it.

Daddy isn't particularly good looking. He's bald which accents his big ears which stick out so you can't help but notice them. He's also an old man, 71, and had a big rubbery grin I thought was really cute and endearing, and always made me laugh. while not muscular he had a lean build and was really strong. What I really like was his hands, they were more than half as large as mine, with long fingers that looked strong. It was weird but I felt attracted to him in a strange way.

I only thought it would be creepy because of our age gap, which I didn't care about. The fact he was a guy didn't mean anything to mean, even though I had never even thought about hooking up with another guy. I was into him, and that was as simple as it got. It was more about the person not his gender. I imagined what it would be like if I were to hook up with him and it made me feel weird, my stomach felt heavy and I had a weird all over feeling like it was really bad to even consider.

At some point, Daddy's had ended up on my left thigh. I liked the feel of it's warmth and heaviness, and the roughness of them and didn't say or do anything to make him move it, even holding my urge to pee until I couldn't hold it any longer. I was mad it made Daddy take his hand off me, thinking he wouldn't put it back, but when I sat back down in the same way I had been all night, he put his hand back on my thigh, this time gently rubbing it.

The rest is coming up next!

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