Dear Daddy,

I’m eighteen years old now, and I know you can’t help yourself anymore.

Ever since Mom brought you home, I’ve been watching you. At first, you were just a man she was dating, a man so much older than me I never saw you as someone I could be with. You were even older than Mom. The crushes I’d had before were on boys my own age… And it stayed that way until I realized that was exactly what they were – boys.

They never understood me like you did. I remember the first time I cried because of a boy. You held me tight in your arms, smoothed my hair down and told me things would get better, and that he wasn’t worth it anyway. You did it even though you didn’t have to, and you played the role of a parent to a kid that wasn’t yours even when my mom wouldn’t.

That was the first time I saw you as a man, Daddy.

And it was because I could feel your cock hardening under me, pressing into my butt needily. You cleared your throat and moved me off your lap so I wouldn’t feel it, but I know you saw my eyes widen, Daddy. I know you saw me notice, and I know it turned you on, because your pants only tented more, your cock desperate to be inside me. I know, because you kicked me out of your study the next second for no reason at all, and I was upset about it for days until I figured it out.

I’m eighteen years old now, Daddy.

Don’t you think I’m old enough?

Because I do.

And Mom does, too.

Did you know she sat me down today and gave me a pack of condoms? It was the most cringe-worthy display of fake motherly love I’ve ever seen. You and I both know Mom’s never been bothered about me.

My sister was always her favorite.

She doesn’t care about me as long as I get good grades and stay out of trouble. And we all know I’ve always been a good girl. I don’t go to parties, I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs. I barely date.

I’m such a good girl for you, Daddy, and I know you’ve noticed.

Don’t think I’ve been ignoring those lingering looks. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how your eyes drink in my body when I wear revealing clothes around the house. Don’t think I don’t know that you want me. I know you’ve thought about it.

I know it’s hard to think about me as a grown-up. When Mom brought you home, I didn’t like you. I could never picture another man taking my dad’s place. Ever since he died, I’ve been holding onto the memory of him, desperate to remember him, desperate to keep the shreds of moments I still recall. I was only four years old when he died, and I’m starting to forget, which hurts a lot.

But when you walked in, I didn’t even see you as a father figure. How could I? You wore a suit jacket and jeans, and I could see tattoos peeking out from under your sleeves. You were enormous, Daddy. Your shoulders so broad, your body so powerful my own shook in response. You had dark hair streaked with gray, and you squinted at me as you walked in. You didn’t say anything apart from hello.

I get it, Daddy. I was just a little girl back then. My sweet sixteen was only a few weeks earlier, and you saw me as just a kid.

I think it’s high time we stopped that, though. I know you’ve noticed me growing up in front of your eyes, Daddy. I know you’ve noticed my body get tighter, my curves get rounder, my lips get fuller. I’ve seen your reaction when I bend down. I’ve seen you lose track in the middle of a sentence when I walk around in a bikini top and cutoff shorts. Don’t pretend like I don’t make you want to lose control, Daddy, because we both know you’re desperate to be the first man inside me.

It didn’t take long for you and Mom to get married. I never really understood it. You never had anything in common, and it only took weeks for the two of you to start fighting. And those fights were horrible. You screamed. She threw plates. It was a mess, just like your marriage. Don’t deny it, Daddy. I know your relationship is falling apart. I know your marriage is just a farce, and I know Mom’s only sticking through it because of that prenup you signed.

If you get divorced before three years are up, you get to keep your money.

If you get the divorce after three years of marriage, Mom is going to be a very rich woman.

I’ve heard you fighting about the divorce, and I know Mom’s refusing to sign those papers. I know you’ll end it soon, though. You’re not a very patient man, Daddy.

You know, the first time I heard you cheat on Mom was only two months after your wedding.

I was at home sick, and you didn’t know I’d stayed behind. I heard a girl’s laughter and followed you out by the pool.

I watched a girl that looked like a younger version of my mom suck your cock, with your back turned towards me, until you grabbed her head and emptied yourself in her needy little mouth. I watched your ass work your cum into her throat, and I watched her get up, grinning and wiping her lips. She was very pretty. Blonde, with huge fake tits, but much younger than my mom.

It wasn’t until later that I found out she was your co-worker.

I don’t think it’s very professional to fuck your secretary, Daddy.

The next time you brought a girl home was three days later.

I hid and watched. I watched you fuck a stranger on top of our washer, which covered up all the sounds she was making for you. Our mom was just a floor above you, Daddy, and I think it got you off knowing that either of us could walk in on you fucking someone who was working with you at the office.

I know because I listened to the way you talked to the woman.

Spread your legs for your boss, little slut.

Spit on my dick so I can fuck your virgin asshole.

Moan so I can fill you up with my cum, all the way inside you. I’m going to fuck you so deep, you won’t even leak a single drop.

Mom always told me that you were a charmer when she met you, Daddy. But I still think you’re the handsomest, nicest bad man I’ve ever met. I tried to get wet for boys like I do for you, Daddy, but it doesn’t work. I think my pussy just wants you, and I don’t know how to help myself.

I listened and watched and observed for years, Daddy.

Until you started bringing in girls that looked like me, and fucking them all around the house.

They always looked like me.

Never again like my mom.

Never like my sister.

They all looked like me. I only realized it after the third or fourth one.

Do you want to know why, Daddy?

Because you called her by my name while you fucked her in the bed you share with my mom. I was sitting right outside, my ear pressed to the door.

You were different with this girl. You kept her around for a while, and I watched you lie to Mom, telling her you were working on a project with her. She even had dinner with us sometimes. She looked so much like me, Mom would sometimes mistake her for me while we were eating.

This girl stuck around, and as the weeks passed, I got more and more jealous. This wasn’t like you. You never fucked the same girl more than once.

So, one night, when Mom was away and I was alone in the house, I sneaked downstairs and watched you fuck her in the living room, on the couch where I’d watched silly Disney movies since I was a kid.

I heard you call her by my name again.

And correct yourself, pretend it was a mistake.

But you did it three times, Daddy. I think it was on purpose.

And she started to like it.

She begged you to call her by your stepdaughter’s name.

I heard her begging for your cock, and I heard you laughing when you realized her pretty asshole still hadn’t been fucked open. I listened to you take that girl’s anal virginity and pop her open with your cock. That wasn’t the first time I saw it, but every single time, I was mesmerized by your size.

And that was the first night the thought of you made me come all over my fingers.

I played with my pussy until I was soaking wet, until my cunt stretched to accommodate three fingers. I played so hard that I squirted for the first time, and then I hid in my bed when somebody knocked on my door a few hours later. It was past midnight, and Mom came home just for my birthday.

You came in with Mom, and you wished me a happy birthday. I was eighteen years old, finally legal, finally ready for you. Mom gave me a kiss and you stared off into the distance, not wanting to look at me.

I wasn’t sure when your relationship started to fall apart, and I wasn’t sure why you stayed together, either. It seemed like you hated each other.

I got my gift – a beautiful gold bracelet, but what meant most to me were the two kisses on my cheeks from you.

That was the first time I called you Daddy, because it felt so fucking right.

I got braver after that.

Calling you Daddy when I knew it would get you hard. Right in front of Mom.

Sitting on your lap and acting sad and offended when you pushed me off, as if I didn’t understand it was because of the hard bulge in your pants.

I teased you in front of her. In front of your friends.

It’s been four months since my birthday, Daddy.

Why haven’t you fucked me yet?

I know you want to.

I saved myself for you, Daddy. You know I’m a virgin, but you don’t know how careful I was to keep my pussy tight for you. I want you to make me bleed for the first time. I never finger-fucked myself deep enough to break it. You know a girl’s first love is her daddy… And I want mine to make me a woman.

I’m going to slip this letter under your study door now, Daddy, and I’m going to wait for you in my room, in that pink nightie you bought me last year that’s much too short now, and a pair of white panties, because I think you’d like to see the wet spot grow when you rub my tight little cunt.

I hope you’ll come see if you like the way I taste for you.

Love,

Your little girl xx

I stared at the paper in my hands.

Written in that curly cursive handwriting I knew so well, with hearts all over the page.

I placed the paper on my desk and straightened it out, even though I wanted to crumple it up, I was so pent up.

One glance at the clock told me it was late.

There was only one thing left to do.