At first, the curiosity was just that. Yes, I was curious in ways I hadn’t been before; in ways I probably shouldn’t be. Every chance I had, I would take the dildo from my parents’ room and bring myself to orgasm.
Then I began to find myself looking at him. Studying him. In a swimsuit, in his lounge pants, coming out of the shower, trying to get a peek. To verify? I don’t know. I was curious. One day I made up an excuse to go into the bathroom while he was showering. The curtain was open just a crack, but it was all I needed. He was rinsing the shampoo from his hair, and there, between his legs, was what I sought. It was soft and short, not very impressive at all. My disappointment vocalized itself with a groan.
“Are you o.k.?” he called from the other side of the curtain.
“Yeah, just couldn’t find what I was looking for,” I answered. Funny how much truth there was to that. Now, I know that there are different types. There are showers and growers, there are big ones and small ones. I don’t know why I expected him to just be standing there with a hard-on. This was going to be harder than it seemed. No pun intended.
A few days later, I heard noises in the middle of the night. Sneaking to my parents’ room, I could hear them moaning and groaning. When they stopped, I quickly snuck back to my doorway. I heard their door open, so I watched from the shadows. My dad walked out, completely naked, his pride swinging before him. That confirmed it. It was a copy of him. I quietly went back to my bed. I listened as he used the bathroom and went back to bed. I fell asleep with the image of his manhood dancing in front of my eyes.
I thought having seen with my own eyes would have quenched my curiosity. It did not. Well, that’s not entirely true. It changed it, from curiosity to desire. I wanted more; the thought of what the real thing would feel like came flooding back. I started imagining different scenarios. I’d see him cleaning the car, and wonder how it would feel in the back seat. I’d see him sitting on the couch, and think about getting on his lap. He’d be in the shower, and I’d wonder what it’d be like to shower with him. I’d see him swimming, and fantasize about doing things in the water. Especially about doing things in the water.
That was when I came up with the idea of having a date. I could get him alone and try to convince him to give in to me. If he denied me, or worse, got mad at me, I could play it off. Now I just need to propose the date and figure out what to do.
Getting the date was the easy part. Now I had to figure out how to convince him that what I wanted was o.k. It wasn’t going to be easy. I ran several scenarios through my mind. Everyone ended in disaster. What was I getting myself into?
The day of the date arrived, and I was nervous, scared even. I didn’t know if I could go through with it. But after dinner, we sat in the theater watching a movie, and I slowly began to inch my way closer to his groin. When I went full commitment, he protested quietly. I knew he wouldn’t make a scene. Finally, he let me do what I wanted. I rubbed his crotch, feeling his cock grow inside his pants. I wanted to take it out, to marvel at it, but I knew he would never allow that.
Time for step two. The movie was over, we had our dessert, and we were sitting on the lakeshore watching the sun set over the water. It was now or never. Suddenly, he burst out at me. His question was so abrupt that he startled me at first.
“What the hell was that?”, his usual calm tone gone, his face contorted with perplexed confusion.
“Practice,” I said calmly, like it was the most natural thing.
“Practice….Practice?”, he repeated, his voice frantic.
“It’s O.K.,” I reassured, putting my hand on his arm. He jumped at my touch.
“O.K.?”, his voice went up another octave.
“Daddy,” I tried to be as soothing as I could as I took his arm in mine, “I love you. Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Would you do anything for me?” I pressed. I knew he would; he always told me he would, though not in the way he meant it. I was going to play that card.
“You know I would,” he confirmed.
“Then there’s no problem,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Aside from the obvious,” he argued.
“We are two grown people, and you can help me as no one else can. You understand me. You love me. You’d never hurt me,” I played on his devotion, and it worked. I put my hand on his leg. He didn’t jump; he tensed. I slid my hand up his leg and felt his cock twitch in my grip. I leaned in, kissing him, pushing my tongue between his lips.
He was reluctant at first, but then he allowed my tongue to probe his. He slumped in the seat; I could feel the tension leave his body. He was giving in to me. I reached for his zipper, and he looked around frantically. After a couple of tries, I had the zipper open and finally was able to get an up-close look at his cock. It was beautiful. I kissed the head, then took it into my mouth, licking the head as I went. It twitched in my hands, growing even larger, a stark contrast to the flaccid member I saw in the shower that day. Daddy was definitely a grower. It felt bigger in my hands than the toy did. Maybe it was just my imagination. I took as much as I could into my mouth, stroking like I’d seen them do on the porn I’d seen. Hoping I was doing a good job.
It must have been good enough, soon he warned me he was going to cum. I continued on, debating on what I should do; I hadn’t thought about this part. His body tensed, so I decided not to finish him in my mouth. I stroked his cock, the first shot went up and landed on the back of my hand, then two more came out and fell on the top of my hand.
I decided I wanted to taste him, so I switched hands and put my mouth back around his pulsating cock. It wasn’t what I was expecting, so many times I’ve heard horror stories about the taste, but it wasn’t bad. Sweet, a little bit salty, but not strong or potent or any of the other bad things I’d heard. He was trembling when I stopped. I started to wipe my hands off, a smile spreading across my face. Now I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me. I looked at him, and he looked like he was still reeling, and my smile grew bigger. Slowly, he looked at me, and my heart swelled.
“That was fun. I enjoyed that a lot. And I already have plans for our second date,” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“You do? Should I be worried?” he asked. I just smiled.
