Riding My Dad's Best Friend

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This is what I decided to change. I kissed my father again, just like I used to when I was little. I kissed him before I went to bed, when I was about to leave or when he said something nice about me.

We weren’t very physical at the time. We did not hug or kiss. I don’t think we ever touched unless accidentally. I leaned to the side, resting my head against his chest. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was all I’d be getting for now. He had to have felt them wiggling against him. There was no doubt in my mind about it. What would he be thinking?Here, I want to show you a cool spot on a horse trail. I want to take control, and you can sit behind me this time.” He said. He smiled at me, who was looking up at him. He had told me that I reminded him of himself when he was younger, and I wondered if the twinkle in his eyes was because of that. I gasped at his words, they turned me on. His hands traveled to my ass cheeks and pushed me against him harder. Horror Writing | Screenplay Writing | How To Write | Write Books | Read Write | Writing Tips | Writing Tools | Writing Community

When I sat on his lap, his touch inched ever closer, until his warm hand covered the soft skin of my inner thigh and his thumb brushed the edge of my panties. I felt his muscles tense up and realized my question might’ve sounded a bit naughtier than I had intended. What I said was true though, those past few weeks, all those interactions had been initiated by me, not him. It’s happened again. I don’t know if it was a good or a bad thing…and at this point, I don’t care anymore. It’s starting to feel good for me. I can’t just summarize what He did…I have to give every gory detail about the occurrence. Call it venting. Call it therapy. I just need to let someone know so that it doesn’t devour my soul. Although my innocence has been taken from me, a part of me feels like I deserve it. But let me stop rambling on, and begin my story. I remember sitting on your lap all the time when I was little. I wanted to see if I could still fit.” I explained.You hold the reins like this,” He said, “And make sure you are in control of the horse at all times.” His other arm he wrapped around me, lower when I was wearing a bra but no t-shirt; but when my bare breasts were hidden behind a bulky shirt, he got high enough so that I could feel his arm brush up against them. I loved the horses. I didn’t grow up with them like her father had, but I’d happily obliged to farm life. My dad said that I appeared to be a natural with animals, and so I wanted to ride my father’s favorite horse. The horse was named Picasso, because he had splotches of white and brown that appeared to have been splattered onto his coat in random patterns. What I loved most, though, about Picasso was his tail. Long and flowing and white. Oftentimes, my father would catch me styling the tail with girlish, intricate braids.

I suppose we can practice now, if you like. Go ahead and halter him up and bring him out to the ring.” He told me. I felt the air against my bare tits, now fully exposed to him. I couldn’t help but blush once more.

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I was excited. At once I found Picasso and brought him to the ring like he had said to do. He was waiting there for me, standing in the middle with his strong arms crossed over his chest. The next time I did it, I waited again until he was watching something that interested him enough to stay seated even while I crawled into his lap.

We use to cuddle all the time and you never kiss or hug me any more.” I explained, trying to make it sound more innocent. “Even when I was naughty, at least you’d still spank me.”

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I felt awkward, once more, but sat down on his lap. My heart was thumping in anticipation of what was to come. The organ seemed to know more than I did. Slowly, Daddy pulled His lips from mine, but I hungered for more. I felt so ashamed of how I was feeling, and how warm my body had gotten from just a simple kiss from Him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell Daddy that it wasn’t the other boys making me cry now, that it was Him. I wanted Him to be like that Daddy I knew He was, and not this monster taking advantage of me. But I kept silent. A thought occurred to me at that moment; maybe if I was good, then He would stop. Naïve of me to think of it now, but at that moment, it made sense.