Some new experiences for Disha-4

So it was that after school that day, still in her school uniform, Disha took the Circle Line to Baker Street where she transferred onto the Jubilee line all the way to St. John’s Wood. Then she walked several blocks along Acacia Road until she came to a nice old Victorian-style apartment building… Checking the address once more, she hesitantly rang up the apartment…

“Yes,” said a tinny voice on the intercom.

“I have a message for you from Mrs. Manisha,” she responded per her instructions.

The door buzzed open and she proceeded to a door on the second floor, rear, where she knocked softly. The door was opened by a familiar gentleman in a lounging robe–older and more gray–but she recognized her own father!

“Disha, oh my God, Disha! Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked.

He could not have been more astonished than she. “Papa, oh Papa, its-its not what you think, I mean…” she stuttered. Disha was at a loss for words as was her father. How could she send me here, Disha thought.. She must have known!

“Come in — quickly,” her father pulled her inside, looking both ways up and down the hallway. He motioned her to a chair and sat down on the couch opposite with his head in his hands.

“Oh, Disha, forgive me, I never thought it would actually be you. Every since I left, I’ve wanted to see you again. Remember how I used to take care of you, bath you, hug you? …and then your Mother accused me of…fondling you. I only wanted you to feel good–love me as I loved–still love you.”

Disha was touched by his emotional explanation. She had always wondered why he had left. She remembered the muffled arguments heard through the wall of her room between her mother and father. She remembered his sorrowful, pleading look as he turned and left their house for the last time. Then she and her mom had moved to the small flat and struggled to make ends meet on the money he sent them. Now her heart went out to him..

“You see,” he explained, “I missed you all this time, and I knew Mrs. Manisha before–before she took her position at your school. She has been sending other young girls to visit–girls whom she thought would remind me of you. And now…is it really you?”

“Of course its me, silly Papa, and I’ve missed you also. Oh, Papa, I’m so happy to see you.” Suddenly she surprised him by quickly kneeling in front of him, reaching under his robe and grasping his cock.

“Oh, Disha, we mustn’t. It’s not right. You’re my daughter!”

“It’s alright, Papa. I’ve done it before and after all, Mrs. Manisha wouldn’t have sent me if it wasn’t OK.”

Her father’s resolve shattered as Disha began softly licking and sucking his cock — feeling it becoming stiff under her tongue. “Oh, oh,” he groaned. “Oh, Disha, you’re an angel,” he murmured as he grasped her head while gently throat-fucking her.

Disha lay back on the bed with her legs together as he gently pulled her white cotton panties off over her shoes. Then with her skirt above her waist, she spread her legs wide for him. She saw a wistful look come over her father’s face as he slowly bent over her. He allowed himself to savor the sight of tender, alabaster textured skin of her inner thighs and the small golden pubic hairs surrounding the tiny lips of her pussy. He relished the scent of young girl which wafted up to his twitching nostrils.

Suddenly, overcome with lust he, plunged his face into this target of his intense desires. His tongue and nose were immersed in the tender patch of her maidenhood, licking, sucking and gently nibbling, wallowing wantonly as though to devour her completely. Disha’s love juices began flowing copiously and she was soon moaning with pleasure, squirming and grinding her hips against his face, giggling as his mustache tickled her sensitive parts. His face became a blur as she climaxed time and time again under the intense stimulation.

Finally, breathing heavily, he stood up and placing her legs over his shoulders, presented the head of his large. Stiff blue-veined cock at the lips of her wet pussy. Then he looked into her eyes hesitantly.

Disha watched expectantly, “It’s alright, Papa, I’m not a virgin anymore,” she said softly.

Thanking providence for his vasectomy, he slowly pressed his cock head between the lips of his daughter’s soft pussy and gently threaded it up her vagina as deep as it would go. Disha’s eyes were wide in disbelief at its size and felt as though she was being split apart. He sighed deeply with pleasure and began fucking her–slowly at first, but soon the tempo increased to a frenzy as intense passion seized them both. Disha wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on for dear life, occasionally reaching down to reinsert his cock when it flew out, all the while squealing and shrieking as she was elevated from pleasure to pure ecstasy.

After a few minutes he stopped to regain his breath and turned her over, pulling her little ass up for the next round. Disha expelled her breath in a long sigh as he plunged his cock into her from the rear and the fucking resumed. She was surprised to feel a long finger inserted into her tight, little ass hole causing her to come immediately.

“Papa, what are you doing to me?” she asked softly.

“Ever been fucked up the ass, Sweetheart?” he asked, his voice taut with passion.

“No Papa, that really sounds quite nasty,” she exclaimed.

“Well, you’re about to find out how it feels,” he grunted.

With that he placed the head of his cock against her tiny asshole and began pressing down hard. A moment later her sphincter relaxed enough for him to enter and he stuffed the rest of his cock up her ass.

Disha nearly fainted, all she could do was to scream “Omigod! omigod!” over and over at the pain and discomfort she felt. “Oh, Papa, it hurts so bad. Oh, stop! Please stop!”

Mercifully, she lapsed into a state of semi-consciousness, her eyes crossed and her jaw slack As the warmth and tightness raised him to the very edge of coming, he withdrew as she gasped, flipping her over and blasting his entire load of spunk into her open mouth, face, her hair and nostrils. Then he fell upon her exhausted, breathing raggedly. He rolled off her onto his back as they both lay breathing heavily. Disha was the first to recover.

“Papa, that hurt me so, I thought you loved me!” she exclaimed.

“I do love you, baby, and I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry I hurt you. Wait, let me make it up to you.”

He arose and went into the next room where she heard water running in the bath tub. When he returned he asked, “remember when I used to bath you with your little yellow ducky?”

Disha had fond memories of her father bathing her. Her mother rarely did. “Oh, yes, Papa,” she replied.

“Well, come in here, I have a surprise for you.” Disha followed him into the bathroom where he had drawn a hot bubble bath scented with her favorite gardenia oil.

“Oh, Papa, its just like before–and you even have my Ducky!” She exclaimed delightedly. She let him take off all her clothes, then climbed into the large tub. He removed his robe and followed her in. Disha lay back in her father’s arms while he gently soaped and washed her, paying particular attention to her pussy and small breasts, which he rubbed until they felt full and her nipples very stiff.

Disha became pleasantly relaxed in the warmth of the water and her father’s arms. “Papa,” she whispered softly, “what you did to me earlier, I think I can do it again with you now, if you want to.”

She turned on her side and lay with her arm on the edge of the tub cradling her head. His cock had immediately become stiff again at her words and he now pressed it into her soapy little ass hole.

Lubricated as it was by soap and warm water, his big cock easily slid all the way in as she closed her eyes and smiled. “Oh, Papa, it feels so good now,” she whispered.

In the warm amniotic-like water he gently sodomized his young daughter for several minutes while she sighed contentedly. Slowly his pleasure rose until he could no longer control himself. Groaning and jerking, he ecstatically ejaculated all his remaining fluid deep in her bowel. With a long sigh, Disha lay back in his arms once more.

When the water had slowly become tepid, they reluctantly stood up and rinsed the soap off under the shower. Disha let him comb her brown hair and tie it with a blue ribbon then re-donned her school clothes. Finally, as she prepared to leave, he gave her an envelope for Mrs. Manisha and a twenty pound note for herself.

“I can’t even begin tell you what you’ve done for me, angel”, he said, hugging and kissing her lightly on the forehead. “Will I see you again?”

“Of course, Papa, now that I’ve found you again, we will see each other often and be jolly friends,” she promised.

He watched her from the doorway all the way to the tube entrance–just a young schoolgirl, but she was his angel. The gray day seemed brighter and somewhere a bird sang a merry tune. He was happy again for the first time in a long, long while.


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