Work Text:
Today was one of his better days.
An easy time at the office, a sunny drive home, and his favorite girl waiting on his return.
Just.… not his wife.
She started work later in the day, turning their daughter over to the babysitter before leaving until the evening.
It would finally just be him and his little girl Ella for a few hours—something he’d been quietly craving for weeks.
He barely closed his car door when he heard small feet hitting the pavement, her little legs carrying her as fast as she could make them go.
“Dadddyyyyy!”
Her tiny voice filled the warm air as she ran down the stone pathway, arms outstretched with a paper in hand.
He placed his briefcase in one hand and scooped her up in the other, immediately pressing kisses into her cheek.
She giggled and kicked with glee in his arms, waving the paper in the air in front of him.
“I made this for you daddy!”
He let her excitedly push the pink square of construction paper in his face, taking in the nonsensical, multicolored scribbles.
“It’s me and you!” she beamed quickly, clearly waiting for his endearing approval.
It was lopsided but intentional in her kindergartener way, hardly any of the features proportional to his own.
“It’s beautiful honeybun.” He smiled and kissed her neck once just to hear her giggle again.
She beamed and babbled about her day as he walked towards the house, barely letting him greet the babysitter watching them from the porch with a smile.
“I asked her if she wanted to draw her mom too,” she started as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder, “—and she told me no. said she misses daddy the most.”
“Is that so?” He looked down at her with a playfully raised brow.
His daughter smiled shyly as if she’d been caught, curling closer into him until the top of her head rested under his chin.
He pulled her closer and ran his thumb back and forth over her leg.
That’s his girl.
“Did your payment go through okay?”
“Yes,” the babysitter nodded, “And thanks for the extra! You guys didn’t have to do that.”
He didn’t do anything.
His wife handled finding and coordinating the babysitter, a younger college graduate majoring in teaching.
But he did like that his wife trusted him enough to keep her around.
If she trusted him around the babysitter, then she was nowhere near suspecting he’d been more than attentive to their daughter for years.
He let them say goodbye, his daughter’s small fingers waving until the babysitters car turned around the corner.
Finally.
“Did you have a good day?” He asked in the same gentle voice he always used with her.
She nodded excitedly as he moved to walk inside the house.
“I did! I did coloring and my stickers and I ate all of my lunch! And I played tea party princesses for a long time.”
He feigned surprise as he shut and locked the door behind him, already twitching in anticipation.
“Really? How many minutes?”
“Uhh….” she paused for a moment, visibly trying with all her might to recall the highest number she knew.
“This many!” All of her fingers went up triumphantly, as if ten minutes meant two hours.
She giggled at his exaggerated response, then—
“When is mommy coming home?”
“In a lot of minutes,” he used her own measurement of time before placing his briefcase on the couch.
She barely tilted her head, still slowly piecing together what her mother’s prolonged absence meant.
Her voice was soft when it came, unsure if she was safe to speak their secret out loud.
“…can we play daddy?”
“Don’t worry honeybun,” he smiled and kissed her forehead.
“We will.”
_____
He was a good dad.
Attentive, doting, kind and gentle.
He held her when she cried, entertained every aspect of her very passionate princess phase, and was never impatient with handling her emotions— especially the big ones.
To others he was a virtually perfect father, selflessly involved, and the kind of dad women would easily want for their own children.
But above all, he never rushed her.
Especially when it came to moments like this.
She asked him for a snack just moments after he settled in, his button up now loosened and belt discarded.
He listened to her babble about her new princess crown as he chopped half an apple, her hand coming up to tug his pant leg when she got distracted by her own self and adamantly insisted he watch her spin.
She let him guide her into the living room once the snack was prepared, her small hand wrapping around two of his fingers.
His cock stirred further as he looked down at their size difference.
But he was also patient—they’d be playing soon enough.
He positioned her on his lap with her back resting against his chest before turning on her favorite show— Sofia the First — without her having to ask.
She let out a happy squeal and bit into an apple slice, hardly two minutes passing before she discarded the pink bowl completely.
He let it be slow this time.
He always built her up when they were completely alone like this— enough to make her feel good gradually without the overwhelm.
He took her tiny pink socked feet and placed them flat on top of either of his thighs, his other hand slipping down to cup directly between her legs.
She hardly reacted besides snuggling further into his chest, eyes still on the TV.
It took a lot of time and patience on his part, but she’d grown to find ease with her dad’s hand between her legs.
It was no longer a shock, a surprise, or a “bad touch.”
There was no such thing between them.
He rubbed his fingers up and down her clothed slit with reverence, slow, thoroughly— the animated princess show still playing softly in the background.
She was almost still when he cupped her like this, as if moving too much would make him stop whatever the funny feeling was that she grew to want.
But he was nowhere near finished.
His fingers circled barely, not nearly enough pressure for any woman to register.
But this wasn’t a woman— it was his little girl.
Her knees jerked almost imperceptibly as she took a tiny breath, signaling to him that she was ready for more.
He paused his hand but didn’t move it, tilting his head down just slightly.
His voice was low, coaxing— always intentionally lilted to make her know that she’d be making him so proud if she agreed.
“Do you want daddy to take your shorts off so you can feel really good?”
She turned and nodded eagerly, visibly thankful that he wasn’t going to stop.
Her eyes moved down to her shorts, brow furrowing in innocent confusion as she realized she wasn’t wearing tights she could easily pull off herself.
“Can you help me daddy?”
Her voice was small and open, the exact way it was when she needed help opening a juice box or snack.
“Of course honeybun.”
He kissed her forehead again and undid the button of her shorts, thumbs hooked into the small denim before he said “up up up” in the exaggerated tone that always made her laugh.
She settled herself back into his lap with a giggle after he pulled off and tossed her shorts to the side, head falling against his chest in the same way it was before.
He resumed his movements immediately, groan threatening to spill as he ran the pad of his finger slowly in between her clothed folds.
It required a bit more pressure than before, her outer lips still puffy enough to cover the rest of what would remain un-blossomed for years.
Her sock covered toes curled slightly against his thighs at the touch, his finger just barely pressing into her clit before slipping down to circle her entrance over her pink unicorn panties.
Any moment now, she’d ask for more.
He didn’t need her too— not really.
He knew his little girl well enough that he also knew exactly what she wanted next.
But he wanted her to say it.
She’d grow up at some point, and if she ever changed her mind about what they shared—the knowledge that she was asking for her dad to touch her nearly as much as he wanted to would be more than enough shame for her to never tell a soul.
He gently swiped his thumb back and forth over her clothed slit as he waited.
Then, after a slightly stronger twitch of her knees—
“Daddy, can I sit on your lap?”
His response was immediately approving, arms coming under her shoulders to turn her around in his lap.
She was sitting on his lap, but that phrase meant something very different for them.
He didn’t position her correctly just yet, reaching to undo the top button of his slacks and pull them down just enough.
But she was always so eager for that good little feeling between her thighs, hips already moving against his thigh.
He placed a hand on her hip to still her.
“Give daddy one second Ella.”
His voice was gentle. She pouted anyway, always wanting when it came to this.
Her tone turned petulant immediately, too impatient to wait until he could move to get rid of another layer between them.
He slipped his slacks down just enough, briefs still on and doing nothing to hide how painfully hard he was.
“But daddy I want—“
His hands were back under her arms, scooping her up and placing her directly on his clothed erection.
“There you go honeybun.”
That was also the dad he was, almost always giving her what she wanted—especially if that thing was to grind her little hips against her dad’s cock.
She moved immediately, arms wrapping around him with glee filled giggles after finally getting what she wanted.
The movement was always uncoordinated, uneven— the exact grinding capabilities you’d expect from a five year old.
But it drove him insane, and nothing else had ever felt so good to him—even through their layers of clothing.
“Is that what you wanted?” He murmured softly and tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear.
She nodded eagerly, tiny confusion in her brows as she struggled to find a rhythm with enough pressure to make her feel the way she did with his hand between her legs.
He watched her try with a proud smile before resting his hands on her hips, pressing her a bit more firm against his length until she let out a tiny breath.
“There you go honeybun” He murmured. “You’re making daddy really proud of you.”
She clung both of her little hands to his bicep and kept going, expression always somewhere between discovery and the giddiness of receiving his approval.
Every little roll of her hips made pleasure spark through his chest.
All of it did.
The princess show playing in the background, the small scatter of stuffed toys and play teacups on the floor, her size 4T princess dress halfway tucked back into the toy box across the room… every little detail made him feel like he was already on the edge.
It was almost overwhelming.
Almost.
Her knees hardly wrapped fully around his waist, his hand on her hip guiding her to continue.
She let out a tiny sound and squeezed her hands tighter around his arm, never fully knowing what to make of the sensation— or what to do with it.
“Do you like how that feels?” He murmured softly and coaxing.
She nodded with a small whine, sifting through her limited vocabulary to describe it.
“It’s really warm daddy.”
He hardly suppressed a groan as his cock twitched underneath her.
“Show daddy where you feel it.”
The movement paused briefly as she pulled one hand from his arm to point a tiny finger between her legs.
He hummed softly, sliding down the thumb holding her waist to press into her needy little clit.
“Right there?”
She whimpered soft at the contact with a little pout and nodded, burying her face into his chest with a whine.
So sensitive.
He wrapped his free arm around her back and held her against him, frame nearly swallowing hers as his other hand guided her hips to continue.
The top of her head barely reached his shoulders in this position, making it easy for him to lean down and encourage her.
“You’re doing so good Ella.” He guided her hips into his a bit faster. “You’re making daddy so happy.”
Her legs squeezed around him a bit tighter as he continued, eyes closing as he relished in the sensation.
Somehow this was considered perverted and wrong, deplorable even.
But for him?
Nothing had ever felt so perfect—so good.
And based on the clumsy ruts against his cock, his daughter felt it too.
“Good girl Ella.” His breath hitched as he lifted his hips to press further against her.
She picked up her head just slightly, likely catching on to the slight change in his voice.
“Daddy,” she mumbled with soft curiosity, “Did you feel really good?”
To her, making him cum had always meant “making him feel good.”
She didn’t understand it—but she also wasn’t wrong.
He shook his head, jaw clenching once after he pressed her down softly for a deeper grind.
“Almost honeybun.” He encouraged. “Keep going.”
He was nearing the edge fast, head reeling and muscles tightening at the feeling of his five year old daughter’s little body pressed against him.
But like any child her age— the attention span shifted just slightly.
The theme song of her show sounded again, sparking a memory of something she forgot to tell him before they started playing.
“Daddy!” she smiled, slightly breathless herself.
“I was watching my show and Sofia had a princess adventure club!”
He huffed in half exasperation, half pleasure, entertaining her distractedness so long as he got to finish.
“That sounds fun honeybun,” he nodded as if he wasn’t dangerously close to finishing.
“It was!” she continued with her bright little smile, completely oblivious to the moment. “Do you think we can make a princess adventure club?”
He didn’t know what the hell that was— he just knew he was close.
He promised it anyway, gently redirecting her attention.
“Tomorrow we’ll plan a really big princess adventure club.”
His hands on her hips did most of the work now, her attention split between the two.
“Better than Sofias!?” she exclaimed with the wide eyed excitement he always loved to make her feel.
His cock twitched harder as he let out a strangled groan.
“Even better.” he promised.
She giggled and bounced just once—
“YAY!! but first I want to finish playing.”
Her hips moved with newfound energy, sending him over the edge almost immediately.
She felt so good like this, so warm and impossibly tight, even though he was only pressed against her.
His orgasm built so much, so fast that he didn’t hear the small “Daddy?” escaping her lips.
His head landed against the back of the couch as he came hard, but never too loud so he didn’t scare her.
Fuck that was good.
He let his chest heave, still in a post orgasm bliss when he heard it again.
A small, familiar, almost ashamed—
“daddy?”
He looked down to see Ella’s worried expression, eyes wide with uncertainty.
“What’s wrong honeybun?” He brought a hand to her cheek and comforted her immediately.
“I—“ she whined, voice lowering into an embarrassed murmur, “ I think I had an accident.”
She looked down between them and he followed her gaze, his boxers soaked with something that wasn’t his own.
That was new.
“You didn’t have an accident honeybun,” he shook his head with his most soothing voice. “Daddy just made you feel really good this time too.”
It wasn’t an orgasm just yet— he’d been steadily leading up towards giving her the first, the same way he’d been waiting to put even just a finger inside her.
But this was the closest they’d gotten.
Confusion built in the lower half of her little body, that just enough pressure on her clit to make her bladder take over.
She furrowed her brow slightly, the tiniest little “oh…” nearly making him hard all over again.
“But…. you always make me feel good daddy.”
He smiled at that, warmth filling the place in his chest that pleasure had just been.
“I know Ella.” He smoothed a strand of hair away from her face.
“You’re not in trouble. But— we are going to have bath time. Daddy made a mess too.”
She agreed with a nod and an “okay daddy”, letting him scoop her up before turning off the TV and heading towards the bedroom.
Her attention shifted again, feet happily kicking back and forth around him as he held her.
“Daddy, do you think I’m a good princess, or a bad princess?”
He chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Is there a such thing as a good princess or a bad princess, or did you make that up?”
“Yes!” she giggled, smiling with innocent joy knowing she made him laugh.
“In that case, you’re a very good princess.”