(Start at the beginning)
Noel stood in the kitchen, pinching at the very center of the back of her diaper as she tried to get the wedgie out. She didn’t want to make her hands dirty. Her Daddy had given her a bath and even washed her hair. She was dressed for bed, feeling super-duper clean and wanting to stay that way. And besides, what she was presently doing required cleanliness. She was making two mugs of hot cocoa.
But it wasn’t just any old hot cocoa. It was a special mixture she had wanted to try since she found the recipe online a few days ago. It was called: Spiked Hazelnut Cocoa. And if it tasted as good as the ingredients made it sound, well … this was going to be one wonderful night!
Frangelico, chocolate liquer, milk, Nutella and a cinnamon stick – topped with toasted marshmallows, straws being used to drink it. Placing both mugs on a Christmas tray she was given when she was very young, she picked up the tray.
“Here I come, Daddy,” she said with a small voice, turning and crinkling her waddle over to the entryway to the living room.
And there he was, sitting on the living room rug, waiting for her … her beloved Daddy, Nick.
Her heart began to pound in her chest when she saw him, that rush of affection filling her senses and making her smile sweetly. This was a special night. Dressed in a red Santa hat, a red button-down long flannel night shirt with Rudolph on it, red knee-high socks with Rudolph on them and her diaper of course, she crinkled into the living room – then stopping dead in her track. Holding the tray of hot cocoa carefully as to not drop it, the beautiful holiday sight in front of her made her well with tears.
The lights were out, the Christmas tree was lit up, there was warmth in the air and love all around. Nick was sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree in flannel comfy pants, a long sleeve shirt and a red Santa hat. He had a bedtime story book in his hands. On the floor in front of him was a super thick comfy blanket and several of her diapered stuffies that were there in attendance to hear the bedtime story as well.
Placing the tray on the coffee table, she sat down in front of him – facing him as she took her first sip of the special hot cocoa. Nick tried a sip as well from the other mug, but only a sip as he knew she would be drinking both mugs.
So, she bundled up with the blanket and leaned back against her Daddy as he opened the bedtime story book and began to read. She sipped her hot cocoa through a straw – basking in the warmth, softness and love that surrounded her. Turning the pages when he needed her to, she focused in on the pictures as he read. She laughed at some of the corny jokes in the story and smiled at the silliness he was putting in his voices he used for the different characters.
Though he was doing silly voices, the tone of his voice just rippled throughout her, unremittingly. His voice always affected her, but her reaction to it fluctuated – based on many variables … mood, location, hunger, degree of sleepiness, what happened to her that day, what didn’t happen to her that day, who she spoke to that day, who she didn’t speak to that day, time of the day, time of the month, position she was sitting in, what she was wearing that day, if it had been a good hair day or not … the list of reasons was endless and not even she always knew why she felt certain ways.
But what she did know was that his voice certainly did affect her.
Leaning back on him, she could feel his chest resonating as he spoke. He was almost like a back massager for her, particularly at times when he was tired … like first thing in the morning and late at night. His voice would take on a slight grumbling quality, vibrating his rib cage.
His breath rolled down over her right shoulder and across the front of her body. It felt like a third layer of warmth around her, over top of the blanket she was wrapped in and the flannel night shirt she was wearing. And when it came to wintertime, for Noel … there was no such thing as too much heat.
The deep timbre in his tone and the animation to his words fought one another, making her mind toss back and forth between listening to the story with innocence and paying attention to the tingles she was feeling – the far lesser choice of purity. And as was her usual mode of action, she followed where her mind led her – sometimes drifting deep into the innocence and other times being absorbed by the sexual.
Sipping hard on the first mug of hot cocoa, she enjoyed the multiple flavors the drink had as she listened to Nick’s voice read what was a very cute little story about Christmas. And there might have been an appearance of Santa in the storyline. She honestly didn’t know and honestly didn’t care. It wasn’t what he was saying. It was how he was saying.
And how he was saying it was making the path of her mind now suddenly take a specific course. For this, she actually did know the reasons as to why it was happening. It was partially because he was such a wonderful Daddy, partially because of the alcohol in the hot cocoa and partially because chocolate was sometimes an aphrodisiac for her.
This could have been why she loved chocolate so much!
Unyieldingly, she felt herself getting worked up. It was really starting to take control of her. But she didn’t want to interrupt him. Normally, when she got tingles that wouldn’t quit, she would give him subtle hints that she was feeling arousal. But to do this presently, she would need to cut off his reading.
She would just wait until he was done. That seemed more polite and more lady-like.
However, the setting was perfect. The charms of holiday were all around her. The chocolate was hot and delicious. But it was his voice that captured her and kept her … and directed her in specifics ways. She was starting to hope that the bedtime story ended soon so she could take him to bed.
Finishing the first mug of hot cocoa, she set the mug down – his voice now combining with physical touches from him to unknowingly fuel her fire.
As Nick kept reading, his left hand remained on her belly – holding her against him. His right hand held the book out so she could see the pictures. But the story was lost to her. And for as much as it wasn’t his fault, it also was.
He wasn’t trying to rouse her, but it was happening anyway … just because he was being himself. There were so many reasons why they worked out as a couple, the Daddy-n-BabyGirl additive only sweetening the honey pot. And she couldn’t have been happier about this.
Reaching for the second mug of hot cocoa, she began drinking it down as fast as the straw would allow her. She could feel herself wanting to grind, wanting to send out the signals to him, wanting to mark her territory so no one else would dare come near him. That sense of ravenous urge was right around the corner.
Her breathing picked up, always the first indication. Her heart began to beat faster and in response, she tightened her lips, steadying the deep breaths. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, finding as comfortable of a position as possible as her hips began to rock gently. Initially, she only crinkled a little bit. But with the intensity of the tingle growing stronger and a bit of wetness not caused by her bladder increasing, it wouldn’t be long now before she would be making more nose than someone opening cellophane wrapped candy in church.
At this point, Nick knew she was worked up – passion looming for his little Frangelico choco-holic. Or was it the chocolate liquer that did the trick? Either way, he waited – allowing her to make the first move. This was her skyrocket trip. She would call the shots and he would not dare interfere with that. But he did reduce his reading voice to whispers as she took one more enormous swig of the hot cocoa before she set the second mug down. The alcohol was beginning to produce the slightest buzz in her senses, just enough to make her docile but more than enough to make her pursue what she wanted with fervency.
Whimpering once, she pushed the book out of his right hand – grabbing his left hand, putting it under her flannel night shirt and force it down inside the front of her diaper. His fingers did the rest of the work, his fingertips especially being effective as they slid down to the outer lips of her labia. The heel of his palm applied pressure on her hood and gasped at his touch, so gentle yet so intense. And the things he was whispering into her right ear only sent her into frenzy that much quicker, increasing the buzz in her head and making her gasp for air with an open mouth as the controlling of her breathing was no longer possible … nor did she want to control it anymore.
The train of modesty was making its last stop. And Noel was about to get off.
His right hand traveled up under her flannel night shirt, onto her right breast – gently pinching her nipple. Noel all-but sunk her teeth into her lower lip, then whimpering out loud as she felt the middle finger of his left hand slide into the opening of her canal, arousal and wetness slickening her path as his fingertips found the ridges on the inside of her front wall.
And he searched for that spot, the one that would send her to the moon. In amongst those ridges, was a specific place that would make her shudder every time he passed over top of it with that finger. And when he grazed over it, she would quickly chirp like a little bird, her shoulders tensing up and releasing each time. His right hand had long since disappeared from its attention to her breasts. And suddenly it reappeared, with her pacifier. Slipping the pacifier in her mouth, his right forearm crossed the front of her body – pinning her back against him as the middle finger of his left hand hit the spot inside her.
As he tapped repeatedly on that one spot, she whimpered so loudly it would have sounded like screaming – if he hadn’t muffled her with her pacifier.
Her lower back arched into a deep bend as she heaved her chest up-out, following her physical reactions to being spotted by him. The journey to the zenith, slow and steady to start, was now speeding up with reckless abandon. And finally, at that moment when she skyrocketed, her entire body seized up – every muscle in her core tightening around his finger, contracting and releasing repeatedly as waves of pleasure rippled out of her … every ripple very gradually releasing the tension in her frame just a little bit more with each pass. The ripples washed out over her entire body, all the way out to the tips of her fingers and toes – and then returning back in where they met the next ripple.
And as she ballooned downward, Nick coaxed her reaction – making her recovery as slow as possible by massaging out the afterglow. He would gently massage her outer tissues for a few minutes, Noel having come to a limpened rest on top of him – her back still against his chest and her eyes closed. Her heart rate reduced and her breathing return to normal. She looked as though she was asleep. However, she was anything but tired, just then.
A few minutes later, she turned over on top of him, reaching down to the front of his pants. But he stopped her.
“Later,” he whispered – making her lay on top of him, the blessings of afterglow still rippling throughout her. “That’s a good girl.”
Oh my. She was so grateful he had such patience with her that she couldn’t find the words to express it. Presently, she didn’t even have the motor skills to speak anyway. But what an angel he had been to have followed her lead as she switched gears, giving little notice before doing so.
Sometimes, it really was a spur of the moment thought for her. And as his left hand had proven, sometimes it was all about location. However, it always helped to have some source of chocolate.
Reaching for the second mug of hot cocoa, she sipped down the rest of it with that straw. Oh, what a night. What a night for a chocolate aphrodisiac.
Continue on to Wednesday, December 22nd