Excerpt for Babygirl Goes Bare: Daddy Loves You Series by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Babygirl Goes Bare

by Piper Belle

Copyright ©2018 Piper Belle and PiperBellerotica

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Please note: All characters included in this fictional work are 18 years of age or older.

Table of Contents

Sample Teaser

Babygirl Goes Bare

Sneak Peek: "Charlotte’s Bed"

About Piper Belle

Sample Teaser

"Dad, wait. I'm not finished."

I stroke my face. "Feels smooth enough to me."

"I don't mean your face." She looks at my jock, and I swear my dick is gonna break off in my pants. She smiles seductively and picks up the can of shaving cream. “It’s only fair, Daddy.”

Jesus motherfucking Christ, she wants to see my cock. There's no other explanation. Considering the blue-ball inducing state she’s put me in, I've half a mind to show it to her. I'm not the type of guy to be led around by his dick, but every man has his limits; looks like Brielle just found mine.

I stand up and reach for my belt buckle.

A glint of hesitation sparks in my daughter’s eyes. She didn't think I'd say yes. Well, in that case, she's in for the shock of her fucking life, because I'm done playing hide and seek.

It's time to put up or shut up, babygirl.

I step out of my jeans and stand in the water, my cock aimed straight at her bellybutton. Brielle grabs a hand towel and wets it with water from the tub, then uses it to dampen the hair around my cock. Wrapping her slim fingers around my shaft, she lifts my dick to wet my balls.

There’s no stopping the ragged sigh that follows. My gorgeous daughter is touching my cock. Not only that, but she’s taking her time spreading shaving cream over the skin around it. Tongue between her teeth, she glides the razor over the hair above and to the sides of my shaft, cleaning the blade between each stroke. I hold my breath as she raises my cock to start working on balls.

“Careful, babygirl.”

She smiles up at me. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I won’t cut you.”

My dick and balls feel heavy by the time she’s done, like they’re made of granite. She skims her fingertips all around my groin, admiring her handiwork. She even plays with my balls a little. Precum drips from the head of my aching cock. If she doesn't actually stroke my dick soon, I'll have to do it for her.

Babygirl Goes Bare


I glance up from the spreadsheet on my laptop and cock my head, listening.

“Babe?” I call out, my voice echoing through the supposedly empty house. I don’t hear anything. Smoothing a hand over my stubbled jaw—in desperate need of a shave—I lean back in my office chair and then rub my eyes.


That, I definitely heard.

I step out of my office and into the foyer, then stop when I notice a light coming from the master bedroom upstairs. A light I did not leave on. My wife’s away for the weekend on a yoga retreat, and my daughter Brielle, back from college, is spending the night at a friend’s.

There shouldn’t be anyone else in the house.

Careful not to make any noise, I reach inside the hall closet and grab the baseball bat I keep there, just in case. I creep up the stairs on bare feet and peek into the master bedroom. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I can tell. No jewelry missing from my wife’s vanity, no drawers have been rifled through.

Then, I see it. Light shining from beneath the door to the ensuite bathroom.

My pulse jackknifes. What the fuck would a burglar want from there? Bat raised, I make my way over to the door and grip the handle.

I barge inside with a roar.

My daughter screams.

The first thing I see is blood. Deep red drops on the white porcelain. Next, I see where they’re coming from: somewhere in the vicinity of Brielle’s inner thigh. Lastly, I notice she’s not wearing any underwear.

My cock notices, too.

“Brielle?” I lower the goddamn bat and fight like hell to reign in my pulse. “When the hell did you get home?”

“A while ago.” Her nose is red and her cheeks are wet. She’s been crying.

“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing a hand towel off the rack. “Here, take this. You’re bleeding. What the fuck are you doing in here?”

“Nothing.” She wipes the blood from her thigh and then holds the towel against the cut. I can see she’s been trying to shave—using my goddamn razor—without using shaving cream or water.

I prop the bat against the far wall. “Doesn’t look like nothing. Why didn’t you announce yourself when you came home?”

She shrugs. The bra she’s wearing is barely opaque enough to cover her nipples. I avert my gaze, but it’s hard to not to look when they’re practically staring me down. “Your mom said you were staying at Sarah’s tonight.”

“I was.” Brielle sniffles. “Until the guys showed up.”

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