Author: Dayvid Notellin (
dnt_x-asstr@yahoo.com
)
Title: Cici Sees 1
Part: Part 1
Summary: When Cici sees
something, daddy has to explain.
Keywords: MF, Mf, voy, exhib, mast
Date: 01/02/2015
"Daddy? Can you come here
a minutes?"
I sighed, putting my book down
on the bed, open to my page. My wife hates it when I do that, claiming it ruins
the spine. But hey, paperbacks are made for reading, not for passing down from
generation to generation. So in addition to that, I also folded pages over to
mark my place - just to piss her off a little more.
Since she had her modelling gig
in New York that week, I was stuck home with the kid. Not that I minded much,
Cici was a delight, usually, and I was way overdue for some time off anyway. But
I didn't really enjoy having my reading time interrupted. It was after ten, and
she should have been asleep anyway. When I was eight, I never got to stay up
past eight. But Cici's bedtime was nine. Still, it
was ten and she should be conked out by now.
Stopping for a glass of water
on the assumption that that's what she wanted, I entered her room. "What's
up kiddo? Need some water?" I handed her the glass, and she dutifully took
a sip, then set it on her nightstand.
"Thanks daddy," she
said, brushing some stray strands of long strawberry blonde hair from her face.
It was a constant battle for her, but I'd only made the mistake of suggesting
she cut it to her mother once. The tirade that had followed made it clear that,
in her opinion, little girls should have hair flowing down to their butts. So
that's what Cici had. I did have to admit it was cute, but it still seemed like
a lot of work. "Can I ast you sumthin'" she asked in her sweet little voice. I knew
she was playing me. She could speak clear as a bell, but she knew a touch of
lisp and a touch of baby talk would grease daddy's mood and increase the chance
of getting her way - whatever it was. Whoever said kids are naive was a fool. They're
clever, shrewd little manipulators of the highest caliber.
"Sure sweet heart," I
said, sitting down beside her on the bed and beginning to tuck her in out of
habit. "What's on your mind? You didn't have a bad dream or
something?"
"Huh uh. I was jus' wunnerin' what they were doin'," she said, pointing at her window.
One of the perks of making good
money and having a nice position is that you can afford better apartments. Usually
that meant higher up, with a better view. Naturally the master bedroom had the
best view, other than the living room of course, so her bedroom window faced
another apartment complex. I looked out, and most of the windows were dark, of
course, and most of the rest had the curtains or shades drawn. But there was
one almost directly in her sight with the lights on and the curtains wide. Inside
was a large bedroom, with a large bed, and a couple going at it like a couple
of minks, out in the open where God and the world could see.
They looked to be a young
couple, both in good shape; his only moderately muscular, hers petite. As I
watched, they rolled over, shifting from missionary to cowgirl. She looked
really lovely bounding up and down on him. That's one of the nice things about
small breasts - they just jiggle so sweetly when the woman's
on top!
I rolled my eyes, looking down
at my daughter. With a model for a mother, she had more than adequate
opportunity to learn about sex. Hell, these days, all kids did. When I was a
kid, I knew all about sex by the time I was her age - or thought I did. If I'd
had the internet to work with, I'd have had all the info I wanted, instead of
having to get it from the streets and figure out what was true and what was
bullshit. So I knew that Cici knew damned well what they were doing.
"You know what they're
doing honey," I chided her. "They're having sex."
It was her turn to roll her
eyes at me. "I know that daddy. I mean, why they doin'
it 'front of the windows? Issn't sex s'posed to be private? You an' mommy don' do it 'front of
the windows, do you?"
"Of course not baby
girl," I fibbed. Charlie was a model, and one of the defining
characteristics of a model is an exhibitionistic streak. So while we didn't do
it 'on display', as it were, all the time, we'd done it that way more than a
few times. It was always a real turn-on for her, and her being turned on like
that meant a great fuck for me. So who was I to complain? Besides, having other
guys yearning for her was another thrill for me. They all wanted her, but few
would get her, and only I would take her home.
"I don' think they
forgot," Cici went on. I noticed she was still watching. That was a little
disturbing. Should an eight year old girl be watching
people fucking? Should I stop her? Well hell, it wasn't like she couldn't see
it on the webs whenever she wanted. Being connected to the IT industry, I was
all too aware how easy it was to circumvent 'parental controls', so I'd never
bothered putting them in place, instead making sure we were well protected with
firewalls, antivirus, antimalware, and regular coaching on safe computing
practices.
"No?" I queried,
"Why not?"
"'Cos the curtains were
closed when they started," she answered simply enough. "They did it a
few nights ago too, but the lights was dimmer an the bed wasn't right by the window." She giggled. "I
fink they wants to be seen!"
"You're probably right
honey," I agreed. "They're likely exhibitionists, and get aroused by
being watched."
She nodded, as if she knew what
that meant. Perhaps she did. She was still watching. So was I. The couple were
really having a good time, and they appeared to be looking out the window from
time to time. I wondered if others in our building were watching them.
"What's the other thing -
the thing where peeps wanna watch?" Cici asked.
"Voyeurism honey," I
answered. Might as well be up front - she obviously knew about it even if she
didn't know the word. "I think it's a French."
She nodded. "How do you
know if you're a voyeur daddy?" Her eyes were still locked on that couple.
While I believe it's best to be
open and honest with kids, I was getting a little uncomfortable with her line
of questioning. It seemed to be that Charlie should be the one talking to Cici
about this sort of thing. But of course, Charlie wasn't around. And besides,
Cici almost always came to me with her questions. What the hell, might was well
try to explain it.
"Well honey, I think the
definition of a voyeur is pretty much just someone who gets aroused watching
other people have sex."
"Like porn?" she
asked.
"Ummm...
Yeah, I suppose. Except pretty much everyone watches porn and that doesn't make
them voyeurs. I think a voyeur prefers it live, and maybe secret. Like... well
like us watching them. They don't really KNOW we're watching them. A porn star
always knows they're being watched. Plus, porn stars don't really get off on it
- it's just a job to them. For the most part anyway. That's why they're called
porn ACTORS, after all."
She chewed on that for a while
before asking, "Daddy, is it wrong to be a voyeur?"
Well that was an odd question. "I
don't think so honey. Not unless it's carried to extremes anyway. Like a
Peeping Tom."
"What's that?"
"Uh, it's a voyeur who
sneaks around peeking into windows and stuff to get their jollies. Often they
also masturbate as well."
"Like we're doing, looking
into their window?"
"Not quite honey. They
left their window wide open for all to see. Pretty much an invitation. A
Peeping Tom is more like someone who sneaks around in neighborhoods, peeking
under the blinds or through the cracks in closed curtains."
She was silent for a long time,
and I could see why. The couple had changed positions again. The man was still
on his back, but she'd dismounted and slid down, kissing her way down to where
his cock stood proudly erect. She began to lick and suck on his cock, even
deep-throating him. She must have some talent, because the guy was certainly
more than a mouthful.
I watched for a few minutes,
appreciating her skills and filing the imagery away for later recall. It would
be great wanking material. I thought Cici was going to ask another question as
I heard her inhale, but no question came forth, so I looked over at her.
Have you ever seen an eight year old girl enraptured by watching a couple fucking?
That's what I saw then, and let me tell you, my cock went from semi- to
fully-erect in about 1.8 seconds. Her eyes were half-closed, her cheeks were
flushed, and there was the purest look of lust I have ever witnessed on her
face. Not the kinky, dirty lust we see every day. Hers was pure, innocent, and
raw. Not innocent as in the usual definition, but innocent as in, zero guilt. She
didn't think there was anything wrong with it at all. It was beautiful in a way
that defies description.
Me however, I felt guilt. I felt guilt up to my eyeballs. Her arousal was a
palpable force, and my body responded to it despite the fact that she was my eight year old daughter. The fact that her panting was in
perfect time with a motion I now saw under the blankets, where her hand was
surely touching her little cunny was no excuse for my unholy desire - but it
certainly did nothing to dampen it!
My mind went from the sex
across the street to the masturbation going on less than a foot away, and in my
mind, I could see her delicate little fingers touching her bare little pussy. I
felt like I should be doing something to stop her, but the debate never even
took place in my mind. First because I thought it was the sexiest thing ever -
way sexier than the couple fucking in plain sight across the street, and second
because she so obviously didn't think she was doing anything wrong. The last
thing I wanted was to give her any sexual hang-ups!
I knew I should leave the room
and let her finish in private, but it was like a magnet kept me there, sitting
still, watching her, seeing her hand move under the blankets. I was transfixed.
Mesmerized. Unable to do a thing. So aroused that a side track of my brain
worried about me cumming in my pants. My eyes were glued to the movement under
the blankets until I heard her gasp in that sweet little-girl voice and her
legs began to tremble. I looked up to her face and found that she wasn't
watching the couple across the way anymore - she was watching me watching her!
The second our eyes met, she
cried out and her body shook and jerked with an undeniable orgasm. The sight
was incredible. I practically felt her pleasure travelling through our locked
eyes. It was intense! I didn't know a man could become too aroused to cum, but
I think that was what happened. We remained there, our eyes locked as her
climax continued, peaked, and ebbed, and finally with a full body shudder, she
finished.
There wasn't really anything
else I could do. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Honey, that
was beautiful. You really enjoyed that, didn't you? I guess you must be a
voyeur!"
She smiled with that look of
utter contentment that comes only after a mind-blowing climax. Her eyes were
dreamy and soft as she looked at me. "An' a exbish-in-ist too daddy."
***
"I'll be right back
honey," I smiled and got up to get a towel for her. I didn't know if
little girls got wet or not, but if she was anything like her mother, she was
soaked. And I needed to think. She said she was an exhibitionist! That meant
that she'd gotten off because someone had been watching her.
Me.
Fuck.
I was screwed.
As I got up to get the towel, I
couldn't help but notice I had a hard-on so stiff I could use it to cut
diamonds. Yeah, yeah, I know that's an errant analogy. Fuck you. I was HARD. I
tried to hide it as I went to her bathroom for the towel, but wasn't so sure I
succeeded, as I heard a little giggle from behind me. And it wasn't going away.
I fumbled with the towel, then got a washcloth as well, soaking it in warm
water then wringing it out. She might need a little cleanup too.
On the way back to her bed, I
tried to keep the towel in a position to hide the tent in my PJs, but knew it
was a lost cause. PJ's are designed to be comfy, which also means loose. The
tenting was obvious. She watched me return with a bemused expression, still
utterly relaxed.
"Uh," I said, rather
intelligently under the circumstances, I thought. "I thought you might...
that is... Well some grown women get wet when they climax like that."
She giggled. She always did
enjoy discombobulating me any way she could. Usually it was by saying something
so off-the-wall that I had no response. She was really enjoying that I was so
thoroughly out of my element. So of course, she piled it on.
"Yuh huh daddy! I'm
soaked! Look!" She kicked the blankets aside, and because I'm an idiot, I
looked. Her nightie was pulled up, exposing her panties, which were completely
sodden, clinging to every contour of her sex like paint. And the way she'd been
rubbing, the fabric was tucked deep into her cleft, giving her the most
beautiful cameltoe you can imagine. It really did like she was stark naked and
painted.
Even worse though, her thighs
shone with a wet sheen, and the sheets beneath her were soaked as if she'd
spilled the entire glass of water I brought her. Suddenly my own mouth was dry
as the scent of her juices wafted up, filling my head like a euphoric. My mouth
watered. You can call it a conditioned reflex caused by eating her mother's
sweet pussy long and often, but it really took every inch of reserve I could muster
to keep from diving down on that little peach and licking her clean.
"Uh, yeah. I can see
that." The beautiful part was that she wasn't ashamed of it, or even put
off by it. When I'd met her mother, she had quite the hang-up over being so
wet, and it'd taken her cumming on my face and mouth many times to really and
truly convince her that it wasn't just "all right", it was a gift. Apparently
the first guy she'd even climaxed with had freaked out, thinking she'd peed on
him, and had called her all sorts of horrible things. That was the sort of
sexual scarring that I wanted to avoid heaping on my daughter. It'd fucked her
mom up for years, and I didn't want Cici to have to go through that crap too!
Before she could read my
comment the wrong way, I went on. "I can see that. You're a very lucky
girl honey. When it comes to cumming, the wetter the better!" She grinned
at my poetry, and I could see the ghost of doubt that had been forming
disappear. "Of course, that means there will be a little clean-up, but
TOTALLY worth it, don't you think?"
She nodded, pleased both by my
compliment as well as my matter-of-factness about the mess, like it was no big
deal. "Tell ya what honey, why don't you go clean up and change your
unders while I take care of the bed?" As she got up, I added, "Your
nightie's soaked. Better change that too."
While she went into the
restroom, stopping by the dresser to get her things, I peeled off the blankets
and sheets, then the waterproof liner. Like all kids, she'd had the occasional
accident growing up, and we'd seen no reason to remove it. Accidents aside,
kids occasionally spilled too, and pretty much anything would stain a mattress.
Of course, my bed had a liner too, but that was because, as I said, her mom was
a gusher.
Unfortunately, unlike my bed,
we only had the one liner for hers, so I couldn't replace it without washing it
first. So I bundled up the liner and the sheets and put them in the washer. I
was just about to push the Start button when Cici tapped on my shoulder. "These
too daddy?"
I turned around, and there was
my darling little girl, standing in nothing but a pair of 'Happy Feet"
panties and a smile, holding out her sodden panties and nightie. "I don't
have another nightie daddy," she said. I knew that was a lie, but she was
just so cute, and I couldn't argue anyway because the scent from those panties
was waking my manhood again. I took the items and set them aside - they don't
belong in the same load as sheets, then urged her out the laundry room with me
behind her - partly so she wouldn't see the growing tent, partly so she
wouldn't see me sniff and lick my fingers. If the girl's juices smelled divine,
her taste was simply indescribable!
Watching her walk
in front of me was an interesting experience. I'd never thought of Cici
as a sexual being before, but now that I'd noticed, it was beyond me how I
hadn't noticed earlier. That little ass of hers, wiggling in those cute little
panties was the stuff of wet dreams. And although she had no breasts to speak
of beyond the puffy areola so common in girls who weren't quite getting breasts
yet, those looked amazingly attractive on her. Of course, if she was like her
mother, she wouldn't get much more than that anyway. Her mom barely filled a B
cup, and in fact, over-filled an A cup beautifully. It meant she often had to
wear padding when modelling dresses, but that was fine. I loved her little
breasts when they were out for my enjoyment! Even better, it meant she could go
braless, which she loved to do because she had perpetually stiff nipples, and
it made the guys look. Like I said, she loves to be looked at!
I followed my little cherub to
her bedroom, and was about to start making her bed, when she dropped another
bomb on me. "I hate sleeping without the liner daddy - the mattress is
rough and itches!" That's what I got for getting her a thick padded liner.
"Can't I sleep with you tonight instead?"
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