The Father of Beatriz (Part 2)

For a better understanding of this tale, I suggest you read part 1 Since the first time she came to spend those days with me, in the carnival of 2017, we have never been a day if you want, without talking on the phone. For most of the day, we exchanged text messages and pictures like two teenagers in love, in the good sense of the word. But one detail that I want to highlight in this second part of my beautiful story of love and sex with my little girl, is that two days after she left, in the middle of one of our "watsapp" conversations, she curiously commented that she had forgotten her pecker. I think I just left my bikini there... it's not in the dirty laundry I brought and it didn't come in the suitcase, if you find it around, keep it for me. Acting naturally in the conversation and very cautiously I confirmed to my little nymph by saying. You left it here, my love, in the bathroom, hanging on the shower faucet. But Daddy saved it for my little girl, when you visit me again, you will find her here, waiting for you, don't worry, Daddy is taking good care of her bikini. I dropped this bomb and waited for the noise, imagining that after that, the atmosphere of our conversation would become awkward on her part, but to my surprise she was completely relaxed and continued the conversation normally. For three months this was the content of our conversations, and I increasingly entering more and more in the minefield and forbidden of their intimacy, trying to open space to be able to enter the subject of sex. As planned, in June, during her college vacation, she flew back to Rio de Janeiro to spend 15 days with me. Upon arrival, embracing that little body and hearing his little voice calling me "Daddy" was automatic, I couldn't help but miss my dick, which hardened drastically and he realized. I felt his veins so swollen I thought they were going to burst. Like the first time, except now that it's been 15 days, every minute has been wonderful, we've enjoyed a lot in every way. And on the penultimate day, we agreed to go to a "pub" on the edge of Copacabana, where we stayed for more than five hours, enjoying good music, dancing and drinking of course. By dawn, she got drunk, threw up a lot, and I decided to take her home. As soon as she entered the room, she said she needed to go to the bathroom, but there was no time for her to take a step if she wanted, not bearing the pressure peed in her pants, right there in the room. She and I both watched the pee leak out of her jeans, creating a pool of pee on the living room floor. It was a magical moment, watching every drop of that pee trickle down in those seconds that lasted his little pee, until the end. Embarrassed, the little girl placed one hand on top of the other, as if between her legs, on her pissed-off little face, trying to hide it from my gaze fixed on her little toy, while apologizing endlessly. I was trying to calm her down by saying. - It's okay, my daughter! It always happens. You're not the only one. I myself have peed a lot in my pants, around, several times... and worse... in front of my friends. Of course, that was my lie, but I had to think fast, do something, create something that made me feel at ease without feeling constrained. And it worked, she had a childish laugh. At that time, I thought even faster. - Come on, stay here and wait for me. I went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, went back and started unbuttoning my jeans. But instantly, in the reflection she put her hand on my hands and said. I'll take it, but you have to leave. But she was so drunk, she couldn't do it. I left her trying to unbutton it, but it was useless and I had to intervene. - I should do that. I put my extra hand on her, took it off the button and the zipper, and I regained control of that situation. She was clearly showing nervousness, moving around a lot, but I continued my action by saying the following. Don't be embarrassed, we're adults, don't worry, there's nothing about you that I haven't seen in other women, you think I can't take care of my little girl? Completely drunk, she smiled shyly as I pulled down the zipper of those pissed-off jeans. In it, I could feel the stench of his little body rising like steam, aromatizing, as I inhaled deeply that sweet smell of sweat mixed with the sweet smell of that pee. And then I grabbed the bottom of her pants, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and I pushed her down, and she took a step back. Still standing, trying to balance herself in front of me, I tried to lower my panties and she tried to stop me by holding both of her little hands on the rubber band, exclaiming. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please. But I fought back. Don't worry about it. At that moment, we stared at each other, eye to eye, as I struggled with the blonde pulling her panties down harder, practically having to tear the panties off that little body, which came out practically damaged with a tear. That's it! I got rid of my panties after a few seconds of fighting between us. The little fish was in my hands, its naked little body before me, its pissy little morsel was inches from my face and my mouth, that I could smell the sweet scent it breathed out. I took the handkerchief, put it between the little girl's legs, and began to rub it lightly on the little girl's cheek, moving it, gently caressing it between the lips, going up to the forehead of the cheek, then down to the clitoris, where I caressed it for a long time, until I was sure that it was very thin. Instantly, the little girl with the green eyes began to spasm all over her body, writhing, bending forward, sighing deeply, very loudly, loudly, with high-pitched sounds, to the point of almost sobbing, while I wiped her little face. I knew it had to be at that moment, at that hour, otherwise I might lose the one chance in my life to have that little peck in my mouth, and that's what I did, and I mustered up the courage, and I counted to three, and I stretched my face out to his little peck, and I put my mouth in that little piss hole. I heard a sharp sigh, her hands held my head, the little fingers of that tiny hand entwined in my hair until I felt the nails of that tiny hand, piercing my scalp with all its force. My tongue split the little sketch into two bands, scratching and rubbing my rough nerve between my lips, from the height of its hard, swollen crease, I slowly descended between my lips, savoring the delicious, salty remnant of that liquid of piss and sweat remaining between my lips. With the tip of my tongue on the baby's little hole, I seized the moment without a second thought to force my way in. Gently, I was violating her little sketch with my nerve, while she at once released the air trapped in her lungs in the form of a scream. My hands not only held her hip, but also held her upright before me and prevented her from moving out of that position. My mind went into turmoil at that moment, with various thoughts about what to do at that moment, kissing her belly, feeling the sweet smell of her skin, prolonging every moment of that moment by giving her pleasure as well, but for fear of her coming back to herself and putting an end to all that I had achieved, where I had gotten to, to that point, I had no alternative but to act only thinking only of my personal pleasure. So I had to be quick. I pulled his hip, sat on the couch positioning one of his legs on the pillow, so it would facilitate my blowjob in the muzzle. I lowered my head a little and stuck my mouth back on that beautiful, smelly little thing. Two licks on the little sketch, up and down, with light brush strokes on the little butthole of the blonde were enough to keep her in a trance and me going with my evil plan. His little sniff, spitting straight from that seemingly narrow and tight little hole in my mouth, sniffed, sometimes whitened semen, with its extremely tasty acidic content and deliciously salty feeding my animal instinct that was acting at that moment. It was more than forty minutes with my mouth glued to the cheek of the drunken, hot, pissed-off blonde, who in that time has twice mocked in my mouth, giving me one of the most remarkable experiences of my poor existence. After she had made a second mockery of my mouth, filling it with the milk of a young girl's nipple, I was ready to follow, and at last my lustful and wild hunger, to feel my big, thick cock breaking into that tight little nipple, imagining the girl screaming, struggling, twitching all the way with my stick stuck into that nipple. But to hear her whisper. - I can't take it anymore, Dad! I stopped for a moment, thought about it, and decided to leave her. She sat on the couch for a while, after a few minutes she got up and I helped her to the bathroom, where she took a shower and then warned that she was going to sleep. The next morning we went straight to the airport, there was no exchange of words between us, not even in the farewell. That's how she left after our second father-daughter date.