Faith Dials a Daddy

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This story follows on from a previous story I wrote about Faith. For something different I thought I might try and see if I could write this from the girl’s perspective.

Faith Dials A Daddy – Special Home Services.


I have been keeping away from the online classifieds since I had that strange interaction with Mr Mature a few weeks ago. I’m 37, recently separated but comfortable in my own skin. I’ve been getting horny lately and I’m still a bit curious about what else is out there. I can’t complain about not getting plenty of satisfying sex but there was something out of the ordinary about the exchange with Mr Mature last month that tweaked my curiosity.

The conversation started to go places I wasn’t ready for. I began to feel the messages we exchanged were straying from fantasy. The last thing I need now is to get hooked on an unavailable old guy. Being the non committal person I am, I simply stopped responding. I’m sorry now that having relegated the chatroom to the trash bin I can’t go back and pick up where we left off, but it’s been purged.

I did look to see if his ad was still live, but he appears to have deleted it as well.

This week has been busy with a lot of family things going on and I haven’t been getting much time to myself. I’m really at a loss for time and I guess that’s another reason I stopped messaging. It was too disruptive to keep checking a chatroom to see if there was a new reply from him.

Tonight is a break. I’ve had a nice meal and I’m relaxing on the sofa finishing the wine as I start daydreaming. I glance through the Personals pages again to see what new entertainments might be found.

With a bit of a flutter I notice Mr Mature has put up a new ad. Dirty old man. The title sounds interesting though – “Let Me Write You A Story”. Intrigued I click and open to see the full text.

Let me write you a story.

Are you a woman with a passion that’s missing a beat? Why else would you be reading this? I’m a mature guy looking to correspond with like minded ladies who might get a kick out of exchanging a few dirty messages. Age open.

If we hit it off I’d like to then try and take our ideas and write you a story. That’s it. Nothing long term. No meet ups. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m willing to try.


Quaint! He probably is a dear. I bet he was a real pussy cat when he was younger. I vaguely wish I could meet somebody with similar ideas my own age!

It’s late and under the combination of a busy day, wine and low lighting I drift off to sleep on the sofa. I wake with a start and it is well after midnight. I don’t usually remember my dreams but I realize my hand is down my pants and I have been rubbing against the cushion in my sleep. I have a vague recollection of a being enveloped in a kiss with a handsome graying man.

Oh fuck. This is stupid!

The laptop is still open on Mr Matures ad page. I type a quick reply and with a faint sense of guilt I hit send. What has my best friend Dee told me hundreds of times before? “Don’t message when you’re tipsy Faith.”

Will I regret it in the morning? I strip down to my panties and go to bed. It’s too hot for PJ’s.

I wake at 7am and feel my pants sticking to my body. Damn they are wet, I think I might have been continuing that dream I started before bed. I skip out of them and throw them at the hamper and jump into a nice refreshing shower.

Downstairs I lift the lid on the laptop and there is a two word reply waiting. “Ah, Faith!”

“Having any success with your new ad?” I reply.

After a short pause. “No. I thought I’d heard the last from you.”

“Sorry I left the room, I started to scare myself.”

“Friends then?”

“Of course!”

“Have to run.”

I hesitate. “Xxxx.”

Work keeps me busy all day and Mr M only briefly enters my thoughts over lunch. I’m meeting Dee after work and we are going to the movies. I laugh at myself and bet I won’t bump into Mr M there. I’m not sure what’s showing but anything is better than sitting at home trawling the Personals.

When I get home there is a new message. “We never did get to finish our first story together. I had to make up an ending all by myself. I found an online erotic stories website that were running a Valentine’s Day competition. I re-imagined our story with a few different endings but when I found the Valentine’s competition that settled the finale for me. Here’s a link to the completed story.”

I click on the link and read to the end. I like the thought of sending him an upskirt picture on Valentine’s Day. I’m getting strangely turned on again. I vaguely wonder what the alternate endings might have been.

I reply “Can’t be me, I’ve already got a couple of pairs of those in my top drawer!”

Off to bed. I wake again at 7, I seem to have had a very good nights sleep for a change. I can’t remember my dreams, as usual, but at least my pants don’t need changing straight away.

I type a new reply. “That was wonderful. I think Escort Bayan Gaziantep I’m ready to go another round.”

Later in the day an incoming message arrives. “You want me to write you a story?”

“Yes please.”

“Got any ideas.”

“Not really. Surprise me.”

“OK let me think.”

That looks like that’s it for the day, nothing else in the chatroom.

Next morning. “Well I had an idea for continuing the story of Faith and Uncle Arthur. Faith is actually doing a diploma in Beauty Therapy. The Brazilian Waxing thing was only one unit in the course. There are many more units on makeup and massage etc. Do you think Uncle Arthur might agree to a practice massage?”

“I think it’s probably best if he gets the happy ending before you try and slip a Manzillian on him!”

“Ooooooh. Eyes watering here.”

“Sorry. Off to work again.”

The day passes and when I get home that evening a new message awaits.

“Too predictable. I’ve been reading some of the other stories on Literotica and I don’t think my cliched story lines can compete with the quality prose there. The girls seem to write all the best stories. I’m now starting to think about coming back as a Lesbian! I’m also not sure I want to jump in and get down and dirty describing pulsing members, stretched pussies and mind numbing orgasms with inconceivably large jets of ejaculate – from both sexes. I must be getting old.”

“OK. Lets just talk dirty for a bit. Get you in the mood. Did you know I’m a really good cook? Rude food is one of my specialties. Perhaps you would like to see me open my cunt wide for you so you can see the pink bits? I’m also a really great FUCK! You’d miss that if you come back as a lesbian. Over to you.”

“I like it when you talk dirty, however I really do know how to turn a girl on already.”

“Do tell.”

“I put the seat down. I wash dishes. I make the bed…”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“My wife would never allow it.”

“Does she need to know?”

“Goodnight Faith.”

I’m in a good mood now. I enjoy making a nice dinner and have another glass of wine before retiring. Once in bed I discard my pants and slide my fingers down between my legs and gently rub against my pubic bone above the clit hood. God I’m horny. How can an anonymous old guy telling me odd little stories do this to me?

I can’t help myself. I pull a pillow down between my legs, roll over, straddle it and start humping for all it is worth. I slow down after the initial burst of energy when the friction starts to feel like burning coals between my legs. I settle back into a slow rhythmic oscillation grinding my crotch until I come. I roll onto my back. Exhausted. I think the last time I did it like that I was sixteen. Poor Teddy!

I wake after another good nights sleep, hoping for an update from Mr M.

“I can’t seem to make the Faith and Uncle Arthur story line come together in my head. There’s still something missing. I’m obviously still having trouble getting your pants down.”

“Don’t worry Pop, I’m sure you’ll come up with something workable. Should we think about meeting again?” I can feel myself getting back on unstable ground already.

“Probably not. Enjoy work. Xxx.”

Things go quiet again for a couple of days. Then I get a new message.

“I’ve been thinking of writing a new ad. But I need to pass it by you first for editorial comment. Would you like to read it?”

“OK. But they’ll let just about anything pass on this classifieds website. Why not just post it?”

“Umm. It’s actually just for you. It’s the start of our new story. Lets try for something a bit, more, err, exotic.”

“Fire away!”

“Title: Coffee Conversation and a Hand Washing Service.

Description: On offer is a new hand laundering service for ladies short on time who have delicate and expensive collections of pretty lingerie. Do not ruin your goodies with harsh detergents in a machine, let me expertly clean your items with gentle hand washing while chatting over coffee.”

“I hate to tell you Romeo, but that is seriously creepy!”

I close my eyes and have a hilarious vision of a silly old man timidly standing in the laundry with his hands in the sink. Inexplicably my pussy contracts. I think I’m getting wet again.

“If I were you I wouldn’t post it, but in your case and knowing you, it might just pique my curiosity enough to have a think about it.

Do you really like housework that much? Will we have to buy you a maids outfit?”

“No and no.”

“This is not real life then.”

“No, it’s just a story. I’m making crazy stuff up to fill in time. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.”

“You’re seriously weird, but I’m starting to like you again. OK. Write me a story.

Response to ad: Dear Dial-A-Daddy, Got a large laundry hamper here and no time. Please let me know your fees and if instant coffee will be OK.”

“Fees: Simple fee structure: Nothing down and no more to pay.

Coffee: Got any instant brew coffee pouches?”

“At that price a girl would be silly not to try such a new premium service. What times have you available for booking?”

“Busy women are usually unavailable daytime so I have positioned myself for evening services. Next booking available is unfortunately Wednesday evening next week.”

“OK. A lady has to accept what she can get from trades these days. I await your arrival. I might have to wear some things for 2 days to make it through though.”

“I’ll let you know if an earlier booking becomes available!”

We sign off for the night. My head is spinning. I go to the kitchen and prepare dinner, but my mind isn’t on the task at hand. I don’t get the spices balanced in the chicken curry and burn the pot steaming the rice. At least the smoke alarm didn’t go off.

Later that night I keep running a movie through my mind of a George Clooney type delicately hand washing my underwear, while keeping an easy flowing conversation going at the same time. I shake my head. That’s not possible. I don’t care how old he is, he’s still a guy. My mind drifts into a fantasy of snuggling up to him, running his hands through my hair and around my waist. I slide a hand under my top, cupping a breast and caressing my nipple through the soft material of the sheer bralette I wear that normally keeps my nipples from getting irritated. I slide my other hand down to my pussy and eagerly part my lips and slip two fingers in. I hook my finger tips up and gently squeeze against the inside of my pussy. The pressure flows through to the inside of my clit and I spasm slightly.

This is ridiculous. I’m a grown women and I’m feeling like a school girl that’s just had her first fingering. God! Get me another wine! Quickly!

I put on some relaxing vocals. I’m partial to some of the oldies, at the moment it seems like Julie London is the mood I’m in and her velvety voice fills the room singing “You’d be so nice to come home to”. I wince.

I open the laptop and type a message. Dee is in the back of my head again, “Don’t text when..”, I push her away. I hit send.

“Must have clean underwear by Thursday. Are you available early tomorrow?”

I go back to bed and have a restless nights sleep. When I wake I check the chatroom to see if there is an update from Mr M and with horrified eyes see what I typed last night. I almost collapse. The first line wasn’t so bad, but the next line might not have been wise, my address and phone number.

I see the message waiting light on my phone is pulsing. I check the message.

“Reality or Fantasy?”

I respond “I think that was midnight reality through the bottom of a Pinot Grigio bottle. Now I’m not sure.”

“I can delete the message with your address if you like.”

“You are a gentleman! Are you available? Really?”

“I could be. Would you like that?”

“Yes. I’m home today.”

“Around 10?”

“I’ll put the coffee on.”

I’m flustered now. I do a quick run around the house tidying things up. The kitchen takes a bit longer than expected, but all the benches are now clear and the laundry sink is empty. Are we really going to role play this?

I take a quick shower and stand in front of the closet and decide to put on my bikini and the singlet. I check the mirror and take it off, no that’s not right. I swing to the other extreme and take out the cute retro floral sun frock I bought for some reason, but never seem to wear. I shrug into it and like the look in the mirror. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and then put on a pair of silk french knickers which seem to be the right match to the rest of the outfit, as well as being the only clean pair left in the drawer.

I apply a little lipstick and decide to keep it at just that. I look at the sun dress again. Change my mind. I slip out of it. I spy the denim skirt and pull that on, unfortunately I don’t have a peasant top. I take it off again. I put it on again and pull a red silk cami out of the drawer. I check myself out again in the mirror. I smile, the braless look is going to knock any male worth the name off his balance.

The doorbell rings at exactly 10. I open the door. There stands a man rather taller than I expected and rather dishy. The salt and pepper coloring has definitely slipped over more to the salt side, but still rather attractive for his age. I don’t swoon. “Yes?”

He’s obviously embarrassed and not sure where to go from here. I enjoy the visible effect I am having on him. He’s been trying to hold his eyes on my face but they inevitably slip down to my top and I feel my nipples tighten and press against the silk. He’s blushing! Are we role playing or are we meeting? I realize I don’t know either. I see a curtain draw across his features.

“Dial-a-Daddy Home Services madam. I have a booking request for laundry services. Am I at the correct address?”

“Yes. Please come in. The laundry room is through here.”

He follows me through the house and places a small wash bag on the counter. “And where may I find madam’s, err, smalls?”

Oh god, this guy really is a wacko. Help, how do I get myself out of this? All of a sudden his bland face breaks into a little smile and a ripple of laughter escapes. “The look on your face is priceless!”

I laugh nervously. He smiles again. I relax a bit. “Shall I put the coffee on?”

“Yes, that might be a good idea.”

“You really are more beautiful than I expected.” He says. “I guess you are as nervous as me? I’ve never done anything as stupid as this before!

You also appear to have forgotten to finish dressing this morning. Did I catch you before you were ready?”

“No. I’ve changed 4 times this morning already.”

“I like the effect.”

“You’re supposed to. That was the intention.”

The coffee is ready and we chat for a while about nothing in particular. Eventually he asks about the hand washing.

“I can’t come here on false pretenses. Where is the job?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“The idea has been percolating in my mind for a couple of days. I probably need to carry through or I’ll be useless for weeks.”

“Stay put!” I nip back to the hamper in the bedroom and take 3 pairs of knickers off the top of the pile.

“Here.” I toss him the small pile of fabric.

We return to the laundry sink where he puts the plug in and fills it with some hand warm water. He places the 3 pairs in the water.

“That’s not very much. That won’t keep you going for a week. What are you wearing now?”

“French knickers. They’re not quite right for this skirt, but it was all I had left. Actually in retrospect they feel quite cool under the short skirt. The open leg makes it feel pretty much like I’m not wearing anything. Quite naughty and delicious at the same time.”

“OK, if you feel like you’re not wearing anything anyway, you had better whip them off and give them over here as well.”

I obey. I sit up on the counter and slide the pants off.

He actually does a very good job of his chore. He did come prepared after all. He has a bar of pure soap he has taken from the wash bag and a microfiber towel. He washes the first two lacy pairs gently and comments on the pretty lace. One orange and yellow pair and the other a pretty black lace that is almost not there when they’re on. He gently pats out the excess moisture in the microfiber towel and places them on the airing rack to dry. The french knickers don’t take much work as they’ve come straight from the clean drawer anyway.

He then picks up the pink high cut cotton bikini pants. I blush. He looks at the gusset. They were the pair I was wearing the night we reopened contact.

“Faith! Whatever have you been doing in these?”

“Umm. Nothing. Actually I think I might have been dreaming about you.”

He raises an eyebrow, but goes back to the job. Out comes the bar of soap and the gusset gets a good dose. He needs to rub the material together a bit to get a good lather up, but after a rinse everything looks good. Another rinse and through the towel drying system and on to the rack. He’s quite good at it. I look at him quizzically.

“I travel a lot. I travel light and I know how to do laundry in a motel basin. I even carry a spare plug.”

“Oh. Is this what equality is going to be like in the future? You sink into his arms and he ends up with his arms in your sink?”

“Well I don’t think equality is going to happen any time soon. Looking through the ads in the Personals pages, unlike the guys, I can’t image any ladies are going to have to stump up $200 for a 15 minute fingering, ever.”

“Oh, Does Dial-a-Daddy offer that service also?”

“Not usually.”

“What would they charge?”

“Same simple fee structure across all services madam. Nothing down and no more to pay. But we are very selective about our clientele.”

“Do you have any bookings available?” I’m still sitting up on the counter. I part my legs slightly.

“Um, I think I can see an opening becoming available shortly.”

“I think I’ll only need the 10 minute service. Will there be a discount for that?”

“No, but if I’m not careful I might have to give you a deposit back.”

With that he comes over to me and slides two fingers into my wet pussy. The alignment works quite well sitting up here. He is sliding his fingers in and out and twirling them around, every so often pausing with his thumb on my clit, rubbing that to.

It doesn’t take very long before I’m convulsing on his hand. He withdraws his fingers. I’m looking down wondering what just happened. He lifts my chin with his hand and our faces are a breath away from each other. My eyes close and we kiss lustily.

“Mmm. I think you might benefit from some more practice before you go commercial.”

“I seem to have gotten over my mental block of getting your pants down.”

“Fun isn’t it?”

“Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week Faith.”

And that’s how our regular role play sessions started. I’m still working on his other mental block though. I really want him to come over and play Very Naughty Bad Daddy one day. 😉

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