Spying on Daddy

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2002 by Voyeur

Illustration of Spying on Daddy

Mind you, I never intended to spy on Daddy that day. Daddy's been working the night shift ever since Mom died so that he can be home for me during the day when I get home from school or if I'm sick. He's sleeping at the time I get home, so I have the job of keeping quiet for an hour or so until he wakes up. Nights, he leaves me alone, but the neighbor next door has a key to my apartment and a baby monitor tuned in to my room, so she can hear me if anything's wrong, or check on me if she needs to. I don't give her any reason to come over, though, she brags that I always sleep the entire night long without any complaints. I never notice her, though, I get tucked into bed each night by Daddy who kisses me on the forehead and tells me to be good and go right to sleep, and then he's home when I get up in the morning, ready to fix me breakfast. When he gets up in the afternoon, he cooks me dinner and helps me with my homework. We do okay, even without a Mommy around to help. Mom had died when I was four, nearly three years before, and now I hardly remembered her, other than from pictures that Daddy keeps in an album in a drawer in our living room. I can look at them any time I want to, but Daddy doesn't like looking at the pictures of Mom, or him and Mom. They make him sad, he says.

But I'm not telling you about the day I spied on Daddy by accident. See, I normally walk inside each afternoon by the front door. Daddy's bedroom is just the other side of the living room wall, he normally hears me come in, and often enough will go ahead and get up and see how my day has been. Not that day.

My key also unlocks the back door of our house. I was an hour early coming home that day, because of a broken broiler at the school (I think that's what they called it, it heated the entire school...so why didn't they call it a "heater" instead of a "broiler?"). When I got home, I saw a Frisbee I'd lost. I'd tossed the Frisbee over the weekend and thought I'd lost it, but I got home from school and noticed it stuck in the tree in our front yard. I don't know how it got there (I'd been playing with it in the back yard and tossed it into the alley, but couldn't find it there when I went looking, maybe some neighbor kids had caught it and played with it and stuck it in the tree. Anyway, I was able to toss some rocks up into the tree and the second one I threw knocked it out and it fell onto the ground. So I went into the side gate into our back yard so I could leave the Frisbee there and went inside through the back door instead of the front.

So inside, I decided to see if Daddy was awake. I didn't want to wake him up if he was sleeping, but if he was awake, I was going to say hello and such. I stepped into the living room and then the hallway and Daddy's door was open. I only intended to look in and see if he was awake, I swear.

But Daddy was awake, all right. He was lying on his bed, on top of his covers, bare naked. That was worth me sneaking a look at all by itself. My Daddy usually has his covers on and won't uncover himself when I come in on him. So I was getting a rare look at him. Daddy is a big, rough, big man, his arms are the kind I want to have when I grow up, all thick and strong and bulging with muscle. His chest was so much bigger than his waist, he had muscles there, too, that ran in pairs from his breasts down his stomach to his navel. Below that, a final triangular pair were divided by hair that was thick enough on his chest and scattered on his ribs, but at the navel, they made a single small line that got quickly thicker. His legs were broad barrel-shapes above the knee, below they were like a pair of chicken drumsticks only a lot bigger.

All this I had seen every now and then when he would wear swimtrunks or something. What was new to me, and worth spying on, was the space between his legs and his navel, that he usually kept covered up by underwear or shorts. Not now. Daddy was naked! I was seeing things I'd never seen before!

He had a lot more hair on his lower stomach, down where his legs met his body. It was thick, dark brown (Daddy's hair was much lighter brown), and all coiled up and springy-looking. Like the hair on a black man, only a lot more disorganized and tangled up. But that wasn't what I was looking at. Daddy had his hand down there and it was wrapped about his weiner! I figured Daddy had a wiener like me, only this was nothing like mine! Mine's a little bitty thing, and while it does feel good when I play with it, it's all I can do to put two fingers on it. Daddy's was bigger...a lot bigger!

His hand was around it, all four fingers and thumb and even then, it stuck out above his fist by at least as much space as his fist. Above his hand I could see a thick shaft topped with a large mushroom-head glans that was all purplish. That was because Daddy's hand wasn't holding still, he was pumping his hand up and down fast as he could, moaning and panting as he pounded at himself.

My little blue eyes got big and round as saucers, as my Daddy would say when he saw me looking at something extraordinary. I had that look on my face, trying to see everything and take it all in, my Daddy's big, big dick, and him whomping away at it, while he moaned and grunted and wormed about on the bed. He hadn't noticed me, of course, though I was in plain sight. Too busy with what he was doing, I guess, because he was groaning an awful lot. Like he was in pain or something. I wondered why he was doing this if it hurt him so much.

Then Daddy gave a sudden loud groan and his head went back and his hips arched up and ...oh, my God!

All this white stuff started shooting out the top of his dick, huge thick wads of it flying up into the air, and it landed all over his stomach and chest. Like a geyser, kind of, all at once, it lasted a few seconds, and then he stopped and slumped back on the bed, still pumping away at his dick, panting loudly, really worn out, his face redder than usual, his eyes closed tight, mouth open. "Oh, oh, ohhhhhh!" he moaned at the end.

"Wow," I said, very softly, just the word, not a "Wow!" sound or nothing. I nearly whispered it.

But Daddy heard it and he looked over at me, startled and yelped. "Oh, my God! Oh, God! Kelly!"

And his hands yanked at the covers, even though he was lying on them, and he pulled them partially over himself and turned towards me and onto his stomach and that wrapped him on up, though he nearly fell off the bed.

"Gosh, Daddy!" I said, still dazzled by what I'd seen. "That was amazing! I didn't know you could do that!"

"When did you get home? How long were you watching me?" he wanted to know. He wasn't mad, just kind of surprised and shocked.

"I dunno. A minute or so, I guess. You were moaning and such, then you moaned real loud and...what is that stuff, Daddy?"

"Oh, Jesus!" Daddy said, his voice a weak sigh. "You saw it all, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh." I agreed. "It was amazing!"

"Yeah." Daddy said, but he didn't mean it. "Look, Kelly, you get out of here and I'll be out in a little bit, okay? You and me have to have a talk."

"All right, Daddy." I didn't mind leaving. I mean, the show was over now. Daddy wasn't doing it anymore.

Daddy sat me down in the couch and he gave me a long talk, all about how your body changes when you get older and your wiener gets bigger and it does stuff it won't do when you're little. How it not only feels good to play with it when you're older, it's almost like you have to every now and then, and when you do, that white goo shoots out. If a man shoots it inside a woman's body, it can make a baby, and that was how he and Mommy had made me.

That was a lot to think about, and I did a lot of thinking that evening and the next day. I mean, Daddy had to milk out that white stuff every so often, or it would hurt him, as I understood it. Daddy said, blushing, in an answer to my question that he had to take care of it every day. "If I didn't, I'd pretty much blow up." he'd said to me. "Some days I forget and have to deal with it the next time in a hurry. That's what happened to me today, I'd skipped it yesterday."

"Really?" I had been afraid for my Daddy. What if he forgot again? And again and again?

"Not really." He'd said. "But don't worry, I take care of it every day, almost, and when you grow up, you'll take care of yours the same way. It's all perfectly normal, when a man doesn't have a woman..."

"Like Mom?"

"Yeah, like your mother. When he doesn't have someone like her, well, a fellow has to take things into his own hand."

I thought about all that the next morning, while I walked to school. It was six blocks, but Daddy had walked with me until he was sure I knew the way and that I was safe by myself. Plenty of mothers walking their children to school and kids my own age walking alone, lots of company.

When I got to school, they were still closed. The teachers let us play in the schoolyard for a while, but by ten o'clock, they said we'd have to go home. Anyone could stay who didn't have someone at home to be with them. Me, I had my Daddy home, so I took right off home. And I went in by the kitchen door again, so I wouldn't wake him up.

But Daddy was lying on the couch instead of his bed, wearing only his boxers. The television set was on, I guess he had been watching it and fell asleep. Stretched out on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest and a small cushion, arm across his chest, one foot on the floor, snoring gently. Asleep like that, Daddy looked like a little boy himself, his face softened by slumber, mouth slightly open, eyes closed. Lying like that, he looked just like he was my little brother rather than my Daddy.

And that gave me the courage to do what I did next. My Daddy had white stuff in him that had to be milked out every day if possible. He worked so hard all day, he sometimes forgot, he'd said so the night before. Today he'd fallen asleep watching television so he was awfully tired.

So I screwed up my courage and reached into his boxers. His wiener was in there a warm shaft that felt like moist velvet in my hand. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it out. It was like holding a warm hot dog in my hand, all soft and smelling really nice. Not like a hot dog, no, but smelling like my Daddy, only more so. Daddy has this smell to him I notice when he kisses me good night, just a sort of musky, masculine stuff. This was where it came from, I knew now. Down here where his wiener was.

I had seen how Daddy played with his dick, only it had been a lot bigger and harder when he was doing it. This was soft, pliable, my hand was holding it like a damp washrag. I began to move my hand the way Daddy had, pumping up and down on his prick.

Daddy gave a soft groan and I looked up, but he was still asleep. Eyes closed. He shifted a little his head turned from one side to straight ahead, chin forward. Reassured, I went back to work.

And his dick was beginning to get bigger. Still soft, but it was inflating like some kind of balloon. Yeah, I was doing it right.

Daddy moaned again and stirred and his cock jerked, got even harder. Now it was like it was when he'd been pumping on it the day before. And I could whomp on it like he had. My little hand got busy and Daddy groaned again. I didn't look, I was too busy looking at how his cockhead was slowly turning purple again.

"Uhhh, uh...uh?" Daddy jerked under me, his legs drawing up, raising up on his elbows. "Son? Son, what the hell?"

"It's okay, Daddy, I've got it for you!"


"I'll get it for you."

"Get what?" Daddy was still dizzy, confused. I'd awakened him too soon.

"That white stuff out of you. I'll get it out of you. You'll see. I can do this as good as you can!"

"Kelly, I.... God!" Daddy groaned. "Oh, God, Kelly!"

"It's okay, Daddy. I can do it. You just rest, let me do it for you."

"Oh, God, oh, God!" Daddy moaned. "Kelly, you can't do this!"

"Sure I can, Daddy! I'm doing it right! Aren't I?"

"I...I...oh, God!" Daddy slumped back onto the couch, stretched out his legs. He was going to let me do it for him, I realized.

Knowing that, I turned my attentions to his prong. So thick, so hard, so warm, and getting warmer! The head of it had some sticky clear fluid leaking out. Another glob of it gushed out as I watched and the glob got down and on my hand.

The sticky stuff felt funky and my hand was getting tired anyway. I switched hands and while my other hand pumped on Daddy, I lifted the sticky hand up to look at that clear stuff. The smell was stronger than ever, this fluid was like concentrated Daddy. Hardly thinking, I lifted it to my mouth and licked it off. "Ooh!" I said as the salty stuff hit my taste buds.

Daddy had been watching me. "What's wrong?" He asked, his breath short and heavy. Not panting, not yet.

"It tastes funny." I told him. "What is it?"

"It's the white stuff, only not as concentrated." Daddy said. "Oh, God!"

I licked my lips. "It tastes funny, but it's good!"

"You like it?"

"Yeah, Daddy." I said. I looked at his cock, more of the clear stuff was on the tip. Soon it would dribble down onto my hand again. "Can I lick it off?"

"Lick...it...." Daddy pulled in a long, shuddering breath. "Sure, Son. You can lick it off. You can lick it all you want! Oh, God!" Only he said the last word all long, like "G-o-o-o-o-o-o-d!"

I put my mouth down on his cockhead and sucked that fluid off his glans. When I did, his hand came up and held me down there. "Mmm, yeah!" Daddy moaned. "That's it, Son, take it all down. Far as you can, okay?"

I didn't understand until Daddy's other hand came over and both of them on my head, he showed me what he wanted. Moving my head up and down like my hand, my lips holding onto his cock like my fingers had. When I understood, I began to move and he let go.

"Yeah, Kelly, like that, suck your Daddy's big, fat cock!" He groaned. "Suck out all that white stuff, Baby, drink it all down! Ohhhhhh, God, yeahhhhhhhhh!"

Daddy's dick was getting so warm now, and Daddy was groaning and panting like he had before. I knew he would soon squirt out that white stuff. And he wanted me to drink it all down. If the white stuff tasted like the clear stuff did, I was more than ready to do so!

Daddy's hand landed on my head again, but he didn't press down on me this time, he just fondled my hair, ruffling it the way he would when I was a good boy and he was proud of me. I knew I was making my Daddy happy!

With that inspiration, I kept on sucking on him and he groaned more and more, and finally he groaned and said, "I'm coming, Son! I'm going to shoot it! Just like yesterday, understand? It's going to shoot out like that!" He gasped for breath and said, "If you don't want to, you don't have to swallow it!"

And I gave a grunt of negation (nu-uh!) and I sucked him fast as I could and my Daddy started squirting. With a "Ah-ah-hah, HAHHHH-HAHHHHHH!"

The stuff that squirted out was hot, just like warm soup. And it all tasted just like Daddy on a hot summer day! I caught that first squirt in my mouth and I held on and started swallowing as he shot more and more into my mouth.

Daddy was worming about under me, just like he had in the bed, and his groans were even louder than the day before. And I think he squirted out more, too. I gulped and gulped and gulped and it was still coming out. Finally, Daddy slumped back again and I knew he was finishing up, and the flow of hot white stuff stopped, but I knew he had kept on pumping his wiener the day before, so I kept right on sucking, while Daddy's groans got less and less and then stopped. His cock slowly deflated like a balloon that got untied and I knew he was completely done.

So I let go and sat back on my heels and wiped my lips. "That was good, Daddy!"

"You drank all of it, didn't you?" Daddy asked.

"I sure did!" I licked my lips and Daddy laughed and held his hands out to me. I happily crawled up on the couch on top of him and he drew my lips to him and gave me a soft, warm kiss. Like when he kissed me good-night, but it lasted, went on and on. It was like he was saying thank-you to me, over and over again, with the kiss.

Daddy released my lips finally and I laid my head down on that broad, strong chest. "Damn, Son, that was great!" I raised up my head again and looked at him, grinning. "Only, what are you doing home so early?"

"School's out today." I told him, resting my chin on my arms so I could look into his face. "The broiler is still broke, and they said it'll take three days to fix it." Today was Wednesday.

"Rest of the week, huh?" Daddy asked.

"Uh-huh." I agreed.

"Shit!" Daddy didn't like that and I wondered why until he went on, "I'll have to ask Mrs. Tyndall to babysit you. I have to sleep during the day, you know."

"It's okay." I said. "I can watch television or such until you wake up. It's what I do when I get home."

"Well....we'll see." Daddy said, yawned hard. "And after you milked me empty, I need to get some real sleep. You come wake me at four o'clock, and not one minute before, you got me?"

"I got it, Daddy!"

Daddy rose and lowered me to the floor and stood by me. Reached down and rumpled my hair on my head. "Good boy." he said to me. "Now remember, don't wake me before four o'clock unless it's an emergency. And don't come in my room like you did yesterday until then, either! I don't want you spying on me again!"

"I won't, Daddy!" I told him and watched him walk into his bedroom, one hand scratching at his butt as he walked.

I knew how I was going to wake him up, too! Every day from now on!

I was so glad I'd spied on Daddy!

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