Confessions_(2)

True story.
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In my defense, I can argue that his computer was so much better than mine. Well, sort of. Anyway, I’d use any excuse I could find to justify my curiosity. Dad used to spend so much time at night in his computer… sometimes I woke up very late at night to drink water or use the bathroom, and I’d notice the light in his bedroom. His computer light. Oh, there should be something really, really good happening over there, and I had to know what it was.

But first, let me say something about myself to you, my dear reader.

Mother left us when I was young, and my father was always a perfect gentleman with me. At first he hired a maid, both for the chores and to take care of me after school, but as I got older I told him I could take care of our home and myself. I knew things weren’t easy, and he could save that money. It took him a while to agree, but eventually he did.

I was obviously thrilled about that freedom. During afternoon our home was all for myself. Sure, it required a lot of trust from my father, and I always did everything I could to be worthy of it. That meant no friends – or boyfriends, for that matter – at home when he wasn’t around. I could have done some pretty… naughty things and he probably wouldn’t find out, but I never, never took any chance.

And wow, I had a lot of reasons to do it. Since I entered puberty and discovered my own body, I was horny all! The! Time!. Masturbation was a very important part of my daily routine. I used to daydream at school about new exciting ways to masturbate myself, and barely could wait to get home and try it. Although horny, I’ve never touched myself at school, saving my energies to do it at home, completely at ease (and naked).

Oh, how I enjoyed to be naked. It brings this powerful energy when you remove your clothes, specially when you’re not supposed too. I knew daddy would be very, very angry (or at least, disappointed) with me if he found out I walked around home totally nude (sometimes, only wearing some sandals or socks), and that thought turned me on very, very much. It was naughty, forbidden, and made me horny as hell.

Sometimes I’d spent a long time in his bedroom, in his own bed, watching TV (and touching myself). “Oh, if daddy knew what I’m doing, he’d probably chastise me”. No, I didn’t think anything sexual about him (not at that time, anyway). When I say chastise I truly mean punish, like confining me in my bedroom, no TV or telephone for a month, hiring another maid, maybe even hitting me (although I couldn’t imagine he hurting me in any way).

Oh, telephone.