Her First Taste Of Wine - Sex Stories

Her First Taste Of Wine

Katy was walking home from school. Her backpack bounced against her back as she walked along, shivering against the cold. It was late, around six o’clock, and she frowned as she glanced at her phone. She was supposed to cook dinner tonight and at this rate she’d be late. She picked up the pace, her frown deepening as she hurried. Katy and her daddy lived together in a house with a big backyard in the suburbs. They’d lived there since her mum had died when Katy was six and her dad moved them from the city. He told her later that it was quieter out there. More room to think. Less people watching and snooping around. Now, nine years later, she knew what he meant; usually. Daddy’s methods of correcting her bad behaviour (like right now, late again, why couldn’t she just learn?) often left the kind of marks that can’t easily be explained away. She had to be taught hard and frequent lessons to help her be the best daughter to him that she could be. Katy loved her daddy and so she tried to remember the sweet side of him and how good he was to her when she was over his lap, crying, snotty, bum stinging from the sharp slap of his hand. Home now, opening the gate. Mentally preparing her excuses and apologies. She opened the door, inwardly cringing, looking around. “Daddy? Daddy, I’m sorry, I had netball practice and then I got caught up with schoolwork in the library..” A light coming from the living room, and the sound of laughter, she followed this down the hallway, rounding the ...

... corner to see a football game blaring on the TV, surrounded by Daddy and five of his friends from the office on the couches watching. She knew them all, Pete and Steve and Michael and Darren and Richard. They were nice to her, even if some of them got a bit inappropriate sometimes, ogling her tits under the sweaters she wore, ruffling her hair and patting her on the bum, but she didn’t mind, they meant well. They turned around as she came in, and she smiled tentatively, raised a hand, “Hey Daddy, hey everyone..” Sudden quiet as they looked at her, eyes moving up, then down. Only sound coming from the sports commentator calling out scores. She stood there, feeling the first stain of a blush starting, very aware of how she looked in her netball uniform, skirt maybe a bit short (she had grown quite a bit over the summer), and she had time to think that actually she hadn’t seen Daddy’s friends in a while, and that maybe she looked quite a bit different since the last time, before the moment broke and the guys turned back to the TV. “Hey Katy,” a general murmur. She relaxed. It was ok. She put her bag down on the table and went to look in the fridge for something to cook. “Katy. A word.” His voice was soft, coming from close behind her. She froze, cringing. “Daddy.. I’m sorry I’m late, I’ll make dinner right away. I’m really sorry.” His hand rested at the base of her neck, spinning her around, fingers under her chin forcing it upward. She trembled, thought about the fading marks on ...