Page 8 of Lumberjack Daddy and Wild Child Little

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hannah

I’m pretty sure this is the happiest time of my life. I have friends now, real friends. I’m talking about friends I can rely on but not just that. I mean my life is filled with people I enjoy. Naturally, that includes the little girls, and there’s something really wonderful about that. I don’t know that little girls are any more personable than any other kind of girl, but we have something pretty damned significant in common, so when I hang out with them, it’s wonderful even if we don’t talk about anything DDlg-related.

I have a lot of friends that aren’t in the lifestyle at all. That probably has a lot to do with me working at the gift shop. I don’t know why in the world it’s called a gift shop, by the way. It’s more like an old-style general store. I can buy gifts there, but I can also buy fresh eggs, a sack of flour, and hydrogen peroxide there. In fact, if someone does want to buy a gift, the only real choices there are candy or a few lumberjack souvenirs. Mostly, it’s just essentials.

“Hey Tori,” I call. She works here now. In two days, I will be an employee for a whole year. She’s been here for the last two months.

“What’s up?”

“You grew up here, right?”

“Who wants to know?” she asks in a menacing deep voice before giggling. “Yes. Born and bred.”

“Why is this place called a gift shop when it isn’t one?”

“Oh!” Tori says, “It’s so sweet and romantic!” she takes my hand and pulls me to the counter, which is kind of funny because there’s no particular reason to have the conversation there instead of anywhere else.

I giggle at her enthusiasm and say, “Tell me!”

She looks like she’s watching a love story on a big screen as she says, “When this town was just starting, not even a town yet, there was a wagon train and some of the families didn’t want to keep going. There was a young lady named Ethyl and she was in love with a boy named Daniel. Anyway, it was winter so the wagon train couldn’t move anyway. Ethyl’s brother said they would move when spring came because he wasn’t going to stay in a town that didn’t even have a general store.”

She looks like she’s in the middle of a wonderful dream and I giggle and say, “You’re like a schoolgirl!”

She says, “And Daniel disappeared one night in the dead of winter, and he was gone for two months! When he got back, he had a double wagon pulled by two oxen and it was loaded with supplies. He said he’d be setting up his mercantile as soon as spring came and then asked Ethyl’s brother for her hand in marriage. The general store was her wedding gift. So that’s why it’s called the gift shop.”

She smiled at me and says, “I bet your Daddy would do something dangerous like that to give you a gift.”

I smile, too. She’s right. Of course, he’d probably get a gift he thinks I should want instead of one I actually want.

That thought sends a surge of guilt through me. I try not to let it show on my face, but I guess I’m not successful, because Tori frowns and asks, “Is everything okay?”

I quickly recover. “Yeah,” I say. “Peachy. I just miss him, is all.”

She gets that dreamy look again and says, “Wow. It must be so wonderful to love someone so much that you can’t stand not to be around them even for a few hours. I wish I had a Daddy I could love that much.”

“You will,” I say. “You’re smart and funny and beautiful and romantic, and I don’t care what guys say, they love romantic girls. You’ll find someone in no time. You just wait.”

She smiles at me and says, “I hope you’re right.”

I look at her seriously and say, “If you’re going to work here, Tori, you need to understand one thing.”

“What’s that?” she asks.

“I’m always right.”

She shoves me away playfully and we share a laugh before returning to work. The rest of the day goes by quickly. A group of tourists stops by for supplies and souvenirs, and we’re kept busy until the end of my shift.

On the way home, the guilt resurfaces. How could I have such a terrible thought about Daddy? He’s a good man. No, he’s a great man and a wonderful Daddy and if he pushes me a little hard, it’s only because he wants what’s best for me. How could I be so ungrateful? After all, I’m the one who submitted to him. I could have told him I didn’t want any of those things I’m complaining about, but I didn’t. I lost my chance to protest. I agreed to follow his rules in those areas, and I have to follow through.

Reaffirming my decision doesn’t make me feel any better for being ungrateful, so I decided to try something else. I quickly undress out of my work clothes and jump in the shower. When Daddy arrives home, I am freshly cleaned and made up and I’m waiting on my knees wearing long striped socks, a pretty pink bow in my hair, and bright red lipstick.

And nothing else.

When he steps inside, his eyes widen and he says, “Wow, little girl. What’s the occasion?”

I giggle and say, “I don’t need an occasion. I have the most wonderful Daddy in the world, and I can show him my gratitude whenever I want.”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond because I pull his pants and underwear down as I talk, and my lips close over him the moment I finish.

I suck him urgently, desperate to drive the guilt out of my mind before it can overwhelm me. He sighs and gasps and moans a few times, and cries out, “Oh God, princess!”

When he finally cums in my mouth, I keep sucking hard and fast, my guilt urging me to an extreme level of frenetic energy that I take out on his throbbing, squirting cock.

Finally, he pushes me off and says, “Oh God, give me a moment.”

I don’t give him a moment. I lead him to the couch and push him down and I’m on top of him grinding on him before he can react. When he does react, it’s to growl, flip me over and fuck me to within an inch of my life.

When he finally cries out and finishes again, this time deep inside my pussy, I am shuddering and spasming uncontrollably, but though my body is deeply satisfied, my mind is still filled with guilt.