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Freeing Her Inner Baby Girl

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Stress Relief
Posted:Feb 21, 2017 11:21 am
Last Updated:Feb 21, 2017 5:37 pm
350 Views





"Daddy, I need you!" she implored in her baby girl voice over the phone.

"Alright Honey, I cannot leave work right now, but why don't you come by and bring me an iced tea."

"Oh, yes! Daddy," she squealed as she rushed to get her sparkly shoes and keys.

Making sure his tea was secure, she drove over to his office. He had been working late night on a project that needed a bit more attention. Meetings all day, and some times into dinner time. All this working made for a grumpy Daddy and a needy girl - not the best of combinations.

She pulled into the lot, parked, and walked to the front entrance, smoothing the flounce of her dress as she walked. It was a Cinderella blue, with bits of sparkles around the low neck line, the full skirt hem went to her knees, she like to spin and flare it out like a ballerina or ballroom dancer.

While he waited for her to arrive, he tidied a few stacks of papers, and cleared an area for her to sit. He looked over at the wall to a large black and white portrait of his girl. Naked, well it was strongly implied, laying on her right side, wrapped in yards of pale pink organza was the only thing in color. Her full cleavage exposed, breasts supported by her arms, and her long strong legs had the fabric wrapped around and between them, exposing her bare hip and sides.

He would look at the portrait, a wedding present from her, and rub his cock now, day dreaming about arriving home soon. She enjoyed knowing that it inspired Daddy to come home as soon as possible.

He heard her voice and the click of her heels in the hall as she walked to his door, he rose to greet her. The door was open, and he gave her a peck on the cheek then closed the door behind her as she entered, taking the cup of tea.

"Thank you, Sweetie."

"You're welcome, Daddy," she giggled. He sipped just a little bit then with his free arm pulled her into him and kissed her. She called it Rhett Butler Kiss. She melted into his embrace. Setting the cup down, his left hand then reached down and began to pull up her hemline. his finger trailed her knee, thigh, hips.

"Good Girl!" he gruffly whispered upon inspecting and finding no panties. He pushed her back and place her upon his desk, knelt down and began kissing his way up her inner thigh from her knee. His hands pushed the dress up both side of her legs as his kissed rose higher between her legs.

He pushed her legs open wider, she leaned back more, then was laying on desk as he reached pussy. Slow, warm licks followed tender kisses. She had been thinking about him all morning, and did not want to use her toys again. She had to see Daddy. Pussy was wet, not damp, not glistening, she was wet with hunger.

Daddy fed up Pussy's wet banquet.

Quivers began to release, lower back, inner and then outer thighs. Her knees wobbled a bit, then he places her feet over his shoulders and steadied her ass on the edge of the desk.

Soft lick up the right side, down the center, up the left back down the center, then flickeringly teased Pussy's aching opening. Soft pats with the flat of his tongue, pat, pat, lick, pat. Her hips arched. He could feel her primal need rise. She was so ripe for the taking.

She heard his zipper open between her whimpering moans. Then the clink of the belt and his pants hitting the floor, his cock was fully engaged upon Pussy's opening.

Slowly he pushed inside, spreading her walls open, pressing into her. She moaned with such intensive need - "Daddy!" his cock jolted at her baby voice cries while saturated in her wetness.

She arched up, he sank deeper down. Grinding pelvis to pelvis. Her hands began to reach for his shoulders, her pushed them back up over her head, wrists crossed, holing them there with one hand, while the other was on her hip.

Thrust and plunge. Harder each time, Moving the desk just a bit. Her long hair messed the desk, she cried out more, her smaller hands clenching in time with Pussy's wall. Tighter Pussy clenched, harder he slammer.

Her breathing was quicken, her chest flushed, he kissed her, then growled -
"Who do you belong to?"

"You, Daddy, I belong to you," she moaned as Pussy gripped and pulled, spasms began to flow throughout her being. She arched and cried out, "Daddy, I am yours!"

He ground his cock in deep, pressing and holding there while Pussy locked down in a vice grip, her thighs tightened, squeezing his torso. Her cool skin became warm all over.

His cock jolted and released under the pleasurable pressure. Panting he placed his head on her flushed upper chest, listening to her racing heart beat. He held her hand above her head, then splayed his fingers into hers, clasping them together.

He other hand caressed her hips, as he felt their pulsations subside into smaller and fewer shakes.

"Oh, Baby Girl, I have missed you. Daddy need this as much as you did."

She grinned and giggled. Then giggled some more as a rush of endorphins released throughout her. He brushed a long rogue curl from her cheek, smiled as he saw the warm in her eyes, and listened to her joyful giggles.

He kissed her chin, then her lips. Smiled at her. Her giggles softened into a smile. He kissed the tip of her nose, then back down to her mouth. She kissed him with passion.

He chuckled.

"Oh, no! You are going to have to wait until I come home for more. You greedy little girl! "

She feigned a pout and giggled.

"I will be home in less than three and a half hours. We can go out to dinner if you like."

"Um, Daddy, can I order delivery and we can stay in?"

He looked at her. He knew exactly what she meant.

He smiled.

Kissed her nose and he stood back up.

"Yes, we can."



4 Comments
The Kiss
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 9:43 pm
Last Updated:Feb 21, 2017 6:56 am
669 Views





"My hands are cold," she remarked as the colder breeze from the night air blew over the deck out on the prairie. She meant it as a matter of fact, thinking out loud, and wishing she had deeper pockets in her skirt.

His hand reached out and pulled her to him. Holding her hands. His hands were warmer. He was sitting on the corner rails of the deck. They had come out to one of her favorite places to go view the sky at night. Over a mile in any direction of unobscured views of the night skies.

They had met for an early dinner. She had thought it would be like most first meets, it might last a little over an hour if it was any good, but here they were five hours later, still talking, still laughing, and she was quite beside herself.

She even remarked how she thought it was going to end after forty-five minutes and she would be home working on some project of hers. But here she was, with him, this man who lived a short distance away, holding her cold fingers.

She was glad it was dark, or else she he would be able to see how flushed her cheeks were by his holding her hands. She thought about how normally warm she is, and how warm and nice his hands felt, around her. He pulled her into him, then turned her around, her back to his chest, between his legs, while he sat on the corner.

He blocked the wind, It was a cozy, safe feeling: A feeling she had not felt in a long time. She looked up at the sky. It had been perfectly clear when she suggested the ride, but as they parked the car and walked the wooden planks to the deck, the clouds seem to follow them, giving the night a misty feel.

Her mind retraced the evening and the night. She wore her little girl glitter shoes and over the knee socks to go with her skirt and sweater. They met and talked. He made her laugh. They kept talking, and laughing, and sharing things both of importance and of nothing of consequence. She did not want to stop talking and sharing with him, but she needed to go to the store before it closed.

She asked if he would like to go along, he accepted. She kept thinking, "What are you doing? Why are you asking him to go shopping for this stuff?" Yet he agreed, and talked with her while she shopped for the upcoming party. But there he was, commenting on her questions, making funny jokes about his life, as they roamed the isle, looking for more over the knee socks.

Then she was done shopping. She did not want the night to end. She liked talking with him, he seemed like an old friend. They had so many things in common it was uncanny and made them both laugh.

She suggested a ride out to the prairrie to view the stars and talk some more. He agreed, they rode out in one car. She kept thinking - "What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?" But there was something innately safe about him, she could not place it, but she knew she wanted to explore more.

He pulled her close as they watched another band of clouds scroll in the wind. The air was scented with prairie grass and water. She nuzzled in a bit more. Her hands were warm now, and she smiled to herself.

They watched the sky some more. Silent. They had been talking of raising kids, parents, jobs, life goals, travel, and Disney World. She stepped away, and drew in the night air. She smiled as he watch her. She could see his eyes were shining upon her. He pulled her back into him, facing him.

She looked up, giggling.

He leaned down, kissed her softly. A simple peck kiss on her lips, Contact. Pure and simple. Her cheeks flushed. Then he held her and kissed her again. Her mind raced with an array of opposing thoughts, then she relaxed and gave into the moment, enjoying it for what it was: A kiss.

She kissed back. It was longer, passionate. She stepped back, then looked at him, bit her lower lip softly. She could taste him on her lips. She smiled. Looked back up at him.

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can do anything you want to me," he softly chuckled.

She giggled. Then said, "I could push you off the rails," laughing.

"Well, I do not think I would be much of a kisser, dead."

They laughed. She looked at him smiling at her.

She leaned up on her toes, reaching to kiss him, her arms around his neck and head, feeling his shorter hair, and kissed him. She let herself kiss him with fire and passion.

Then she stepped down from her toes. He drew her back into him, holding her close, she smiled, as bit of clouds opened to reveal Orion's Belt in the sky.



8 Comments
The First Time
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 8:34 pm
Last Updated:Feb 21, 2017 6:51 am
690 Views





Perhaps, it is the old soul in me, perhaps, it is a longing for simpler times from the past, perhaps, it is romantic in me, perhaps, it is the longing to be desired for more than just a playmate; or perhaps, it is all of these intertwined into one force, caressing my thoughts, desires, and dreams.

When people make love, become connected sexually for the first time there is a history of it not being the best of times. But the romantic in me believes that if people actually wait to know one another, talk openly about things it will still be wonderful.

When the Right Man and I decide it is time to become sexually intimate, I have a strong desire for it to be because he wants to please me, all of me and I him. I do not want it to be as in the past, where it was just the next step to fulfill because our primal need to release was so great we had to succumb to this calling.

I want him to know why I am choosing to be intimate with him, exposing all my scars and hurts, all of may passions and feelings, and how much I want to use my body to worship his body. I do hope that for him to in some way, of his own design, feel the same way about this intimacy as I do.

When I have these feelings, I often think I was born a century too late. They are so old-worldish at times, not at all modern with the clash of "if it feels good, do it" or "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with" ideologies. I have tried those. They have left me empty and unfulfilled in the long run.

Sure some of them felt physically wonderful at the time, but it was not on going, there was nothing there to grasp and build in the future. Quick flash in the pan, and in a day, week, or couple months - it died.

I need affection from the early moments of a relationship. I need there to be a strong sexual chemistry, I need there to be lust and madness in those desires, and I need there to be time for my thoughts and emotions to catch up to my physical needs before pursuing the physical.

I do not know what the future brings. I know some what I can and want bring to my future. I do desire the first time to be well worth the wait, for it to be with my best friend, my lover, my man, my protector, my Daddy.



4 Comments
Wishful Nights
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 6:47 pm
Last Updated:Feb 20, 2017 8:04 pm
713 Views





When I finally have a Daddy, it will be nights like tonight
where I can bath,
then snuggle,
suckle on Daddy's Pacifier while we watch a movie.

Then we can snuggle in bed...

Perhaps have some playtime.





3 Comments
PROOF Positive I am Not Evil
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 10:04 am
Last Updated:Feb 21, 2017 10:44 am
942 Views






Rubbing my hands together, rapidly
While giving my Evil Mastermind Diabolical Laugh

" Muah aha aha ha "

laughing so hard at myself
I run to the bath room

PROOF positive
I am NOT Evil




7 Comments
Taking a Leap of Faith
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 9:10 am
Last Updated:Feb 20, 2017 8:07 pm
951 Views





I have been talking with several little ones and other subies of late about first meets and dating.

And I confessed that although I really hate the no-shows and I am disappointed by the ones I have met and it was not a match at all, I since a sense of relief inside.

Upon further evaluation, I think this sigh of relief for it not working out is stemmed in a bit of angst and fear - what if he is the one for me... then what happens?

I will have to learn to let my guard down, and allow someone to be close enough and have the skills to once again hurt me - abuse, betray, just hurt me. A part of me riles up wanting to cry out - Please, Don't Hurt Me!

Even when I meet a guy, and our first meet turns into an all day great date with laughter and wonderful conversations. A part of me is trembling inside - wondering - will he really be a man of his word?

I then put on the emotional breaks, and let the events play out. And many times, I have spared my heart great grief when there have been no more dates, no more promises, no more of anything.

But I know, one day... There is going to be a man who can actually step up to the plate and he will swing at ever ball I give him - some covered in Pixie Dust, some soaked from tears from my past abuses, and some just wanting to be loved - and he will tenderly, skillfully hit everything I throw at him and make it a glorious Home Run.



8 Comments
A Swear Jar for Daddies!
Posted:Feb 20, 2017 8:26 am
Last Updated:Feb 21, 2017 6:52 am
963 Views





I have had many people over the years make the same remark -

"You don't swear much, do you?" Meaning the only time I say the F-word is in the heat of passion and use it in my writing in the same areas.

And the truth is, I do not swear much at all. It is not part of my venacluar to swear. It is not gentile and it is not lady like, and it is certainly not a little one attribute. In essence, it is not me.

I have thought about making a "Swear Jar" and having people I know put money in it when they swear. Then I will use that money to go buy a new Disney Movie. -- giggles.

Seriously, not sure what I would use the money to buy, but it will be something to satisfy my little girl side.

Then, when I do have my own Daddy, he will have to be on the honor system and put money in the jar even when I am not around. Just not a good habit to have, swearing in front of your little one, and if one is accustomed to letting the F-bombs and other words rip, one could slip up around their little one. UT OH!

So, best to self-monitor and put the dollar in the Swear Jar when you return home.





9 Comments
Yep, I Know What My Engine Is Packing
Posted:Feb 17, 2017 7:38 pm
Last Updated:Feb 19, 2017 4:39 pm
1902 Views




There are a few roads in my home town, where there are two lanes that turn left, and then those two lanes will merge into one lane around 50 yards.

I am in the right lane, turning left, my lane must merge into the left lane. There are three cars in front of me in the left lane, the rest of the cars in the left lane are behind me.

Seems simple enough: I should merge into the left lane after car number three. But no! Car number four speeds up, trying to block my merge. I look at his truck, I look at how much distance in my lane I have, and I punch the gas pedal.

I pass him and cars numbers three, two and one, where there is more than fifteen yards for me to merge in front of car number one. My car's engine purrs with power and she is happy to fly for those twenty five yards to over take car number one, gliding into the left lane.

Then I keep on going. Car number one, is going about five miles under the speed limit for about a mile and a half, I loose sight of them around the bend.


Yep, I know what my engine is packing...




7 Comments
I Just Think You're Cute
Posted:Feb 17, 2017 10:12 am
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2017 11:03 am
2029 Views




So, was at a Munch last night. One of the servers walks by, nice looking man. My eyes follow him. He pauses, turns and asks -

"Do you need anything?"

and I blurp without even thinking -

"No, I just think you're cute."

--- I kid you not, I said this! My cheeks flush as he walked away.

I was giggling so much after he left. People are my table, I think their jaws dropped.



8 Comments
Princess Mischief Is a Social Butterfly { And a Flirt at times}
Posted:Feb 16, 2017 10:35 pm
Last Updated:Feb 18, 2017 6:44 am
2133 Views





While attending tonight Munch, Princess Mischief has a wonderful time. She wore a new black and cream cocktail dress, full skirt with lace top, and heels, making her a little over six feet tall.

The excitement of meeting new people and being a social butterfly can bring out the exuberant little one in me, even while dressed like an elegant lady. Always polite and friendly, Princess Mischief knows what it feels like to be the new person so she make the effort to make people feel welcome.

Tonight, while at the Munch another group of people were about to give a toast. The reason for the toast was obscured from the loud talking and noise of the establishment, but it could be seen. Quickly, Princess Mischief had people {about ten people} at her end of the table raise their glasses and join in the toast and say "Cheers!" But the non-Munchers did not see this feat of solidarity in life's pleasures!

So what does Princess Mischief do?

Why she goes over to the other table, joins their second toast {with her Princess Mischief monogrammed glass} - yes, she has no clue who any of these people are, she just hops on over there because she is Princess Mischief - and joined them. She also informs the group of what her group had done with the earlier toast. There was great laughing and then a Re-toast between both parties.

This is how she met one of the fellows in the other group.

Discovering a few things in common from his work and that she actually needed his service they talked some more concerning food, the fact that several people in her group could vouch she was a good cook, where he lived before he lived in Gainesville, and she confessed her friends call her "Princess Mischief", he smiled at that moniker. She gave "Mr. nonMunch" {not what I called him, just using it for privacy} her number as his party was leaving to continue at another establishment, to set up an appointment to do some work.

A short while later - he sent a text. The following is a copy of the text exchange, with excepts about my Munchie Friends commentary.


"Mr. NonMunch _____ of ______" { he sated his job }

"Hello. ________ {her vanilla name} , Princess Mischief "

"I was just going to say that. Does your husband treat you like a princess and your mischievous"


- I show my friends this, we all smile, and I am all grins and giggles - my friends say, " he wants to know if you are married or attached, you go girl!" -


"I am single. My family calls me The Princess. And my friends call me Princess Mischief"

"You seemed of a very princess qualities i must say. Why are you single? Don't you want to be tied down?"


-Y'all, when my friends read this, we are all laughing at the irony. Some one says I should reply with my rope preferences or says that it depends on the rope. -

This had the entire members of the Munch just laughing at the choice of words. Who knows, maybe one day I will tell him just how ironic his words were.

The texting continued. And I have an appointment at his place of work.



6 Comments

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