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Don glanced down at Amy’s slim, manicured hand. It rested just millimeters from his, with her long, delicate fingers beside his own, on the table between plates littered with the remnants of a moderately expensive lunch. She was so close he could feel the warmth of her, but her hand wasn’t touching his. He looked up into her eyes, seeing a mischievous twinkle there. She’d placed her hand there, just that way, on purpose, as a subtle reminder.

Don had to look away. He felt a blush rising in his cheeks. A quick glance told him Amy was grinning, enjoying his discomfort. He didn’t know why this was all so much easier for her. He was supposed to be the one in control. He was her father.

Of all of his children, Amy, the youngest, had always been the restrained, careful, planning one. She was the one that didn’t take unnecessary risks. She was the one that played by the rules. She never cut in line. She never spoke out of turn. She never pocketed a bill that someone else had carelessly dropped. And Amy was the one that tried to make sure she had a royal flush before she made even a small bet.

He was in his mature, conservative fifties, and she in her wild twenties, yes, but he was still more daring. He knew he was more experienced, especially in affairs of the heart. Or, rather, especially when it came to sex. She thought he was a hound, acting up during his mid-life crisis. He thought he was well traveled, and doing pretty well since losing his wife, Amy’s mother, so many years ago. It had been hard, at first, but now he enjoyed the role of sensual, casual lover instead of responsible husband and father.

Amy took her hand away to reach into her purse to pay the bill. Don felt a sudden sadness as she did so.

“Let me, today, Princess,” Don offered. “I’ve been letting you pay too often.”

Amy looked up at him with her sea green eyes, her hand at rest in the maw of the purse. She hesitated a moment before continuing to look in it for cash.

“No, honey, I’ve got it.”

She had never called him honey before. It sounded strange, and a little unsettling. She’d been saying things like that throughout lunch.

“No, let me, come on,” Don argued.

“It’s the twenty first century, sweetie,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “Men don’t have to pay for their dates anymore. Anyway, I have a job.”

Don glared at her, letting his face harden into ice.

“It’s not a date, Amy.”

“Whatever you say, lover,” she said, smiling, as she dropped some crumpled bills onto the check on the table. “I’ve gotta get back to work. I’m running late.”

She rose from her seat, then walked around the table to pass him on the way to the exit. As she reached him she suddenly bent down to put her broad, full mouth to his, or almost to his. She stopped with her lips just a hair’s breadth away. He felt one long, warm breath caress his lips.

She made a slow, soft kissing sound, then was up and off, never having touched him. Don watched her walk away with a motion that made him sit up straight. He felt something stirring in him. He tried his best to ignore it.

* * *

It had happened, or rather started, rather innocently. He’d stopped by to visit her at her apartment on Friday after work. She was getting ready to go out for the evening with friends. He just wanted to get back some CDs she’d borrowed.

As long as he was there, she’d said she wanted his opinion.

“Be honest. Brutally honest, if you can.”

“About what?” Don asked, not really listening, as he sorted through her collection looking for anything that was his. She had far too many rap and hip hop albums. That stuff made his skin crawl. He’d thought she had more mature tastes than that. At least, she did with everything other than music.

“As a guy, not as my father, just as a guy.”

The way she’d phrased that made him pause. He swiveled his head to look her in the eye.

“Yes?”

“As a guy, on a scale from, say, eight to ten… am I hot?”

“Eight? Eight to ten?”

“I’m feeling fragile today. You can’t go lower than eight.”

Don grunted as he turned back to selecting music. Amy always felt fragile. Or rather, she always felt insecure. He didn’t know why. She was smart. She was fun. And she was a total knockout, and she knew it. Don had spent an embarrassingly large part of his life telling his friends that no, their sons couldn’t date her, so let it go. Some of them had even hinted at wanting to take her out themselves.

“Come on, Dad. Okay, have it your way, on a scale from five to ten, how hot am I?”

“Are we talking hot as in simply attractive, or hot as in getting a guy to try to get into your lonely pants?”

Don had said it without looking up. His bored, tired tone of voice said he wasn’t looking up, in case she didn’t notice. It was an awkward thing to say to his own daughter, even if she was “all grown up.” He felt a bit uncomfortable as soon as he’d said it, wishing he could take the words back.

“Into your pants hot,” she answered, ignoring the inappropriateness of his comment, including the “lonely” part.

Don sighed loudly, realizing that this wasn’t going to stop until he gave it his full attention. Fine, if that was the way she wanted it.

He stood up to look her over. Only now did he notice that she was dressed to kill. It was funny that he hadn’t even noticed that she’d changed since he’d arrived. If she weren’t his own daughter, he was sure it would have hit him like a whole bottle of tequila. He wondered now which friends she was going out with, and who she was actually going after. He fought down a surge of inappropriate jealousy.

She wore a tight fitting, short, black dress. It was almost too low cut, showing too much of his little gir’s cleavage in a way that made Don a bit uncomfortable. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra. High heels, makeup, lipstick, dangly earrings, she had everything she needed to get any guy that wasn’t gay to do anything she wanted, for, with, or to her.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Amy looked him in the eye, hesitating, as if she were suddenly too shy to model for her father. She slowly spun in place, spinning her head to keep him in her sight the whole time. Her long, straight, pale blond hair flew around her as she whipped her chin from one shoulder to the other, taking her eyes from his only in that instant, but looking right back into his as soon as she could.

Don silently whistled in his own head. He didn’t really need Amy to spin around to know what her curves looked like. She would have looked hot in flannel pajamas. It had been driving him crazy since she’d grown into a mature woman, one that he couldn’t think of that way, yet she was built so that no man could do otherwise.

He’d gotten used to it by now. He’d numbed himself, over time, to his daughter’s amazing sex appeal. But when he stopped to look at her, to really look at her, his blood started pumping faster. Bodies like hers didn’t come along very often. Faces like hers didn’t come along very often. Finding them together, on one sweet, warm, intelligent woman, simply didn’t happen, ever.

Don knew that for a fact. He’d been searching for years now for one woman that was half of what Amy was, and no one he’d met had ever come close. She thought he was a rogue because he never dated the same woman more than three times. She’d never know that it was because he knew he was never going to meet a girl as unbelievable as the one he’d raised, the one that he could never have. She herself had set the bar too high for him.

“Well? How long is this going to take?” she asked, growing impatient. He sensed that she was afraid that he wouldn’t give her a ten.

“Nine and a half,” he said, out of spite.

She wrinkled the corner of her lip at him, demonstrating a mix of disappointment and irritation.

“You lose a half a point because you’re my daughter,” he explained quickly, feeling guilty about hurting her feelings, no matter how slight the insult was. She really was too sensitive. “A half a point because I can’t do any of the things the sight of you brings to mind.”

She immediately broke into a warm smile, which had its usual effect on Don. He suddenly felt warm himself. It was mostly a contented warmth, the result of making her happy. It was also a slow burning, surging warmth, the inevitable result of seeing a beautiful, sexy woman smile at him lovingly.

* * *

Amy loved getting compliments from her father, more than from any other man. She shouldn’t, she knew. He was her daddy, but that was what made his words special. If she could get him aroused, she knew she’d gotten it right. If she could send her own father into heat, she knew she was a hot bitch.

It helped that he was sexy himself, a ten on her own personal scale, father or not. She generally liked guys that were different from her. She liked them dark and Mediterranean looking, and her own age. Older guys, and blond, clean-cut guys were a turn off, except for Don. He had sandy blondish hair, a color that naturally hid a growing amount of gray, with clean facial features that were too even, too symmetrical. But he also had a strong cut to his jaw and his cheek bones, with dirty blond and gray facial hair that he only shaved every few days. It made him look more rugged, and careworn, and authoritative, and he knew it.

He usually wore a bit of a scowl, or at best a serious, thoughtful look. The contrast between that stern, harsh, manly demeanor and the brightness of his wide smile was knee weakening. Whenever he switched from one to the other, Amy’s heart jumped.

Amy lowered her head, so that she could peer at him seductively from under her brow. She sauntered toward him with an exaggerated sway to her shoulders and hips, holding her hands to her thighs as she walked.

“What can I do to earn that half point, Daddy?” she asked coyly.

He broke into that wonderful grin. Amy felt herself instantly melting. She lost her composure then, letting a broad smile creep onto her face as well to hide her embarrassment.

“No, really,” she said, suddenly self-conscious, abandoning the game. “We’re meeting some guys tonight. One of them has potential. I want to be ready. I want to be a hit.”

Her father rolled his eyes at her, just like he always did. It was one of those cute habits she loved in him, but he didn’t know what it was like to be a woman. He didn’t know what it was like to have to radiate being untouchable and accessible, both at the same time. She had to seem interestingly disinterested. She had to make it clear that she was what every guy wanted, a prudish slut. She had to make a guy think she was hard to get, or would be for almost anyone but him, because he was so special and attractive to her.

Guys were so hard to manipulate into doing what they already wanted to do. It was annoying.

Dad also didn’t seem to understand that there was always competition. A girl couldn’t just look good. If you were out with friends, then you had to be hot, hotter, hottest. Not too hot. You couldn’t look like the whore in the group. But the prettiest rose got the most bees, or at least it got them first.

“Trust me, Baby, you’ll be a hit,” her father said, with an unconscious, appreciative leer.

“Promise? If I wind up coming home alone tonight, will you make it up to me?”

“And just how would I do that?”

Amy was feeling wicked again. Her self-conscious mood had already passed. She loved teasing him. It was so easy. As smooth and as in control as he was around other women, he frequently lost his composure around her. And as careful and as timid as she was around everyone else, she always felt comfortable and unrestrained around her father.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a half leer of her own. “I guess you’d have to show me what another guy would have done, if you hadn’t messed me up by telling me I was already hot enough.”

“Sure,” her father said grimly. “I could get a pencil and paper and draw diagrams for you.”

“That would hardly do it,” Amy said, glowering. “No, you’d have to show me.”

“Amy, I’m your father. Stop it.”

“I didn’t say you’d have to do it, silly. You’d have to show me.”

“How? Bring someone else home for a demonstration?”

“Yuk, no. I don’t want to see you with another woman.”

She realized that she’d let a touch of real jealousy creep into her voice. She glanced at her father to see if he’d noticed. His face was unreadable, cast back into that sexy, stern, hard glare he used so often. She actually had to look away to compose herself, as she felt her knees start to tremble at the sight of it.

Amy wasn’t sure herself what she was saying. She wasn’t sure why she’d started this line of conversation. It had been fun a few sentences back, but it had suddenly grown awkward. She didn’t know what she was saying, or thinking. He did this to her sometimes. He just had that effect on her.

“You’d just have to show me, I guess,” she told him. “But without touching me. We’re father and daughter, so we couldn’t touch.”

“No, we couldn’t.”

His voice was cold, but in a funny way. It was more like he was struggling to take all emotion out of it, than that there wasn’t any there. Amy looked at him for a moment, considering.

“Well, I’ve got to go. Have you found what you want?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject and glancing at her pile of CDs.

“What? No! You haven’t given me a chance.”

“Well, hurry up. Or better yet, just let yourself out. You have your keys, lock up when you leave,” she said, hurrying over to the door in tiny, high-heel safe, tight-skirt constricted steps.

As she stepped out into the hall, she glanced back at her daddy to see him looking at her. She knew he’d be stealing a glimpse of her ass. It made her feel good, confident, as she headed out for the hunt.

* * *

Amy fumbled awkwardly with the keys to her apartment door, feeling a bit dizzy. The cool night air had made her feel more sober than she really was, but the sudden warmth of the stale building hallway brought the mind clouding sensations back in force.

She leaned her head against the door for a moment, trying to gather her wits, then looked back at the key ring. She systematically picked out the bolt key, put it in the lock, and turned. It didn’t budge. At first she thought she’d turned it the wrong way in her confused state. When she thought about it more, she realized that she’d used the key the correctly. It was just already unlocked.

A moment of panic hit her, thinking that someone had broken in again. Then she realized her dad must have forgotten to set the bolt. That was so unlike him, but she’d been ripped off enough times that it really bothered her. She angrily put the other key in the doorknob, turned it, and whipped into the room, quickly closing the door behind her.

Without bothering to turn on the lights, she flipped her heels off, first and foremost eager to release her feet from their torturous prison. In the same moment she reached back to unzip her damn dress. It was sexy, but it was too tight and confining, and ultimately it was a failure, too. All that sex appeal came at an annoying price, and it hadn’t even paid off. She was alone. Again. The guy was a jerk. They were all jerks.

She shimmied hurriedly out of the dress and slip both, letting them simply fall to the floor, right at the doorstep, in a heap. Only then, once completely naked and free, did she walk towards her bedroom, while reaching up to remove one earring.

It was dark, but the city’s distant streetlights feebly lit the room unevenly with a dim, oddly faded, orange glow. After taking only two steps, she suddenly knew that she wasn’t alone in the room. Her heart raced, but the rest of her froze. Someone, someone large, moved on the couch, sitting up, facing her. She half turned back toward the door, wondering if she could get there and open it quickly enough to get out.

It took a moment to realize the guy on her couch was her father.

* * *

Don put his hands to his face, rubbing it fiercely, trying to wake up. He groggily took in the dark room, his daughter near the door, and the four empty bottles on the low table in front of him. He squinted his eyes shut one more time, before opening them wide.

Amy was naked, he realized with a shock. She stood, frozen in an awkward pose, with two hands to one ear, and her head tipped to that side. Soft light fell on her breasts, accentuating the dark creases beneath them, where they curved evenly away from her body, up to nicely pointed, pale nipples. Her legs were partly spread, as if she’d stopped in mid stride, so that while he couldn’t clearly see her pubic hair in the dark, the gap between her legs was wide and obvious, and tempting.

Don hurriedly put one hand across his brow, although only after he knew he had looked at her for far too long.

“Sorry, Princess. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It got kind of boring, and I think I drank too many beers.”

“What are you still doing here?”

Her tone was angry. He peeked under his hand to see that she’d moved her arms to cover her breasts, but did nothing to hide the rest of her. He immediately retreated further behind his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut for good measure.

“I forgot your keys,” he told her. “I thought I had them, but I didn’t, and I didn’t want to leave your place unlocked.”

“You could have called my cell,” Amy admonished.

“No. You acted like the evening was important to you. I didn’t want to wreck it for you. It was no big deal.”

“It was a big deal. You wasted your whole evening. And as it turned out, I wasted mine, too.”

Her tone had softened. She was still angry, but at least now it wasn’t aimed at him.

“You can open your eyes,” she said into his darkness.

Don lowered his hands and looked at her, only to see that she was still naked. She’d returned to the task of removing the earring, leaving her breasts exposed to him again. He forced his eyes up to meet hers as quickly as he could. Only when he met her eyes, her face strangely expressionless, did she turn to head into her bedroom.

“I’ll be right out. I just have to get all of this worthless jewelry off,” she said, her tone still annoyed.

Don set about gathering up his beer bottles, guiltily feeling that he shouldn’t have had so much of it at her expense. A part of his mind wondered why she’d let him see her naked, but he shook the thought away as unimportant. She was just his daughter. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

The incongruous image of Amy, nonchalantly standing naked before him, came vividly, unsolicited back into his mind. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. It was out of character for her, unless she’d become so accustomed to his being around that she’d lost all pretense of modesty. He didn’t think he could remember ever having seen her naked, not since she was a kid. Not that he hadn’t tried, just once or twice, he had to admit.

For Don, she was no longer just his little princess. She was far too much of a woman for that. He felt an erection growing as he worked the memory of her body over in his mind, trying to recall every thing he’d seen, every detail. She was simply too good looking. He’d imagined himself with her any number of times, and felt no shame for having done it. He’d challenge any guy to have her as a daughter and not do the same thing.

Her breasts were not only large, but also firm. Her long, perfectly straight blond hair had fallen partially in front of her shoulders, reaching just down past her nipples. They had been hard to see, in the dark, but seemed to be larger than half dollars, and only slightly darker in color than her smooth flesh.

He’d been so focused on her breasts, trying to see them without visibly taking his eyes off of hers, that he hadn’t taken in much more. He did retain the impression of her overall curves, with a taught, narrow waist above hips that bowed outward nicely, then back into strong, shapely legs. It was almost like looking at a living centerfold, he thought. It was too much like looking at a centerfold.

That was why she had trouble getting guys. That was why she had so little experience with sex. She was too damned gorgeous. It was intimidating.

* * *

Amy looked at her dim image in the dresser mirror as she removed the second earring.

Why had she done that? Why had she tricked him into looking at her? She was a churning sea of emotions this evening, seemingly unable to navigate herself safely through them.

The night had been a disaster. At first all of the guys, each and every one of them, had clearly taken notice of her. She could feel her friends cringe as they each realized they were coming in a distant second to her, or worse. Then it all fell apart.

Amy had tried to flirt, and to make herself clearly available. She even tried starting conversations herself a few times, instead of passively letting them make all of the opening moves. Maybe that was her mistake. Maybe she came across as desperate this time.

Amy tossed the earring onto the dresser with a tinny clatter. She was so damned horny she was going to burst. It had been a half a year since she’d been with a guy, a whole half a year. The harder she’d tried tonight, the more obvious it became that she was going home alone again. She didn’t have to have the cutest one. She would have taken any one of those guys and given them the night of their lives, if they’d just talked to her for more than a few minutes.

But no, it only took about thirty minutes for them to pair up with each of her friends, until she was left sitting there, on the outside, listening to them talk, the only person in a crowded bar that was alone with a half a dozen friends beside her.

Something had to change.

Amy felt emboldened. Maybe it was the drinks that the guys kindly and needlessly kept buying for her. Maybe it was all of the frustration. Maybe it was the fact that she was just feeling hornier than she had ever felt in her life, as if she were a bitch in heat.

Fine, she thought, feeling a little angry at all men in general. She could be a bitch in heat. Watch her.

* * *

As Don stepped out of the kitchen, he saw Amy standing by the window. He’d thought she’d go throw a robe on, or something, but she was still wonderfully naked. At least she’d had the decency to leave the lights off.

Don tried to act as uninhibited as she was, trying to ignore the painfully obvious. He stood beside her, looking out the window at the city skyline.

“Rough night?” he asked kindly.

“Guys suck,” she said.

“Not all guys. Not me.”

She looked sideways at him, expressionless, before turning to face him. He turned with her. Don fought the urge, once again, to let his eyes fall lower to enjoy her body. He held her gaze solemnly, instead.

They stood there in silence for a while, father and daughter, facing each other. Eventually, she let her gaze fall to his chest, where she let one finger slowly trace the curve of the collar of his t-shirt. She didn’t touch him, just the cloth of his collar, and even that very gently.

“You owe me,” she said, looking into his chest with a distant expression.

“Owe you what?”

“I told you before. You said if I came home alone, you’d have to show me what I was missing.”

Don shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She seemed so sad tonight. It was unusual. Something was very wrong. He knew he had to tread lightly.

“I didn’t say it, you did,” he answered, trying to sound firm without being cruel. “I didn’t promise anything. You said I had to promise, but I didn’t.”

“You said I was hot enough,” she stated matter-of-factly, still staring into his chest.

“You are. Maybe too hot.”

She looked up into his eyes. He froze as she tipped her head up, keeping her eyes on his. She raised herself up on her toes, to bring her lips to within a hair’s breadth of his. Once there she closed her eyes. She held herself there for a long while, utterly still, almost but not quite kissing him. After a time, eyes still closed, she dropped away.

Don felt a slight pang of disappointment as she withdrew.

“If you were another guy, that kiss would have been gentle. It would have been just enough to let you know that I wanted you to push things further. And just in case, I would have pressed my tits into you, so you could feel my body, feel my needs, clearly.”

With that, she eased her body closer to his, looking down at her own nipples. Don found his eyes compulsively drawn there as well. Once set, he couldn’t take his eyes away. He felt his pulse pounding as Amy moved her erect nipples to stop just short of touching the fabric of his shirt. She moved them, ever so slowly, left and right, as if they were brushing his ribs, but not.

Don realized with a start that she was looking into his eyes, while he was staring at her chest. He jerked his eyes back to hers. She wore a small, sly, tight-lipped smile.

“This isn’t fair. You’re overdressed,” she said teasingly. Her tone was even, but a bit husky.

* * *

Amy had decided to go for it. She was going to play this game as much as she wished. She wouldn’t go too far, but she’d go somewhere. To hell with everyone.

She reached forward with both hands to work on her father’s belt buckle. He quickly stepped back, out of her reach, so she stepped forward in turn.

“I’ll do it,” he said hastily, as if by doing so himself, and keeping her hands off of him, it would be okay.

Amy let her eyes rise up to look into his, giving him some sense of privacy, as he coolly unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to the floor.

“Is that all?” Amy asked coquettishly.

He hesitated, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head. Amy tipped her head to the side, giving him a look that loudly repeated her question without making a sound. He hesitated just one moment more, then broke into a shy smile. She didn’t often see that expression on his face. He wasn’t the shy type.

“What the hell,” he said, clearly fighting his embarrassment.

A moment later, he tucked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slid them down and stepped out of them.

“Okay, now we’re even,” he announced.

Amy stepped back to admire him. She brazenly let her gaze fall down to his crotch. She smiled in satisfaction not only at the sight of his cock, but it’s excited state.

“You weren’t lying. You do think I’m hot,” she cooed, stepping back toward him.

She let one hand move toward his cock, fighting the conflicting urges to both grab it, and to stop this silly game, to turn and run into her room. It stood out in front of him, not quite straight forward, but actually arching upward, like a crescent moon. He stood perfectly still himself, now clearly confused and frightened.

She let one finger trace its outline, never touching it, simply moving down along the top of its length, around to the bottom, then again back toward her, beneath it. Next she formed a half circle with her fingers, to glide them along it, from base to tip and back, several times, as if stroking it, but all the while never, ever touching his flesh.

She looked up to see his eyes focused on her hand, watching her movements, just as hers had been helplessly focused on his delicious, forbidden cock.

* * *

Don watched his daughter’s hands moving over him. He was frozen in a combination of shock, anticipation and lust. This had all begun so quickly. He didn’t know how to deal with it, or if he should deal with it. Part of him screamed that he had to get dressed and hurry out the door, that Amy wasn’t herself. He needed to help her separate from all of this. He was her father. He was responsible.

Another part of him, the stronger part, told him to let go. It told him to stop lying to himself, that he’d never wanted anything more than this. He’d never wanted any woman more than his little girl, now a grown woman. He had never seriously considered it, but he had fantasized about it. He felt no shame there. She was beautiful, and he knew it, everyone knew it.

Anyway, so far, this was harmless. She had never touched him. They wouldn’t let it go that far. They couldn’t.

“I can’t touch you,” she said huskily, as if reading his thoughts. “But you have to show me how we would, if we could.”

He looked up to meet her eyes. He could play, too, he thought. He was the bold one. It was time to take charge.

Don stepped forward, taking care to keep his erect cock from touching her belly. He lifted his open hands to place them behind her shoulders, as if pulling her to him. His hands hovered there, feeling the warmth of her in the thin air between his fingertips and her skin. She leaned forward toward him, until her nipples again hovered an eyelash away from of his own chest, straining to reach just a fraction further, to actually touch him.

He lowered his lips to stop just shy of hers. He let his lips slide ever so slightly up and down, left and right, much as he would if he were passionately moving his lips over hers, if they were actually kissing. He let one soft, warm breath escape from between his barely parted lips, letting it pass over hers, before pulling away.

He listened to her suck a long, deep breath in through her teeth. He let his hands almost caress her arms, taking a path down toward her hands. She looked down to one side, watching him glide over her. She lifted one hand up to meet his. Their hands hovered there, in space, almost together, almost touching, almost holding each other. Their fingers were almost intertwined.

They stood that way for a while, moving their hands in space, dancing around each other, exploring each other’s fingers in slow, sinuous motions, while almost, but not quite, caressing each other.

She smiled softly at him, a look of low simmering lust clear in her face. She stepped backwards toward her bedroom, keeping her hand near his. He hastened to follow, to keep their hands close together, as if she were pulling him with her into her room.

* * *

Once beside her bed, Amy let her hand fall away from his. She put one knee onto the mattress, to crawl on all fours up to her pillow. She knew he would watch her ass as she did it. She purposely made the entire motion as slowly, swayingly erotic as she could. Once she reached the center of the bed, she rolled smoothly onto her back, resting her head on the pillow to look over at her darling daddy.

He stood there, for her, in his glory. His torso was well muscled, with a thin layer of golden curling chest hair. It marked him as firmly masculine. She looked down at his stiff cock, and decided he was more than just masculine.

It looked so much harder, so much sturdier than any cock she’d ever seen. She wondered briefly how it would feel, how hot it was to the touch, how large it would feel inside her. She dismissed the thought as soon as she could. That would be going too far.

“Show me how I would be seduced, Daddy. How would you touch me, now?” she breathed at him.

“Princess, we shouldn’t. I’m your…”

“You’re my daddy, and you’d never touch me, or hurt me. I know that. You know that. But just now, just for tonight.. show me. Please.”

He hesitated.

“Please,” Amy said, without reminding him that he was her daddy. “Please. I trust you. Completely.”

He hesitated a moment longer, but thankfully didn’t need more encouragement. Her father eased himself onto the bed beside her, at first kneeling there, back straight, with his beautiful cock hovering just above her thighs, just out of reach.

His head came down t

She realized that she’d let a touch of real jealousy creep into her voice. She glanced at her father to see if he’d noticed. His face was unreadable, cast back into that sexy, stern, hard glare he used so often. She actually had to look away to compose herself, as she felt her knees start to tremble at the sight of it.

Amy wasn’t sure herself what she was saying. She wasn’t sure why she’d started this line of conversation. It had been fun a few sentences back, but it had suddenly grown awkward. She didn’t know what she was saying, or thinking. He did this to her sometimes. He just had that effect on her.

hen. With his eyes half closed, he moved his mouth and cheek to her breast, sliding near her as if nuzzling her. His lips formed a pucker, then blew a soft breath onto her nipple. His lips parted slightly to glide around the curve of her breast, then shift to the other, then shift back. His hand reached out, letting the backs of his fingers trace a path along the underside of her tits, so close she thought she could actually feel him.

His lips lowered to her skin again, drizzling a light rain of ghostly almost kisses down her belly, until his head hovered right beside her thighs. Amy heard herself whimper softly as he moved closer and closer to the source of her frustration, to her burning slit, yearning and sizzling with an unfilled need.

* * *

Don inched his way closer and closer to his daughter’s inviting mound of pubic hair. It took a while, partly because he enjoyed the slow, aching tease of taking his time, and partly because he knew he should be doing this. Yet as soon as he’d seen that his daughter’s pubic hair was a light golden brown, like his, he knew he had to continue. It was beautiful.

And he’d never have a chance like this ever again.

With his face as close to her as he could get, he exhaled a long, hot breath onto her skin.

* * *

The feel of her father’s breath on the moist, outer edges of her cunt was unbelievable. Amy honestly thought that no other sexual contact she’d ever had, with any man, had ever matched what she felt at that moment. It took all of her strength not to beg him to go further, or even more directly, to simply thrust her hips upward into his face, forcing physical contact between them, breaking the barrier they’d foolishly erected, letting her fuck his face with complete abandon.

She had to do something. She had to let him know how wonderful this was. She let a long, breathy, high pitched squeal escape from her lips. She’d intended to do it, orchestrated it, but once it started, it took on a life of its own. She couldn’t stop it.

“Lick me, Daddy,” she said, once her squeal had run its course. “Please, show me how you’d lick me.”

* * *

Don felt Amy lift her head to watch him. He had to move quickly, if slightly, as she shifted, to avoid accidentally touching her. Part of him thought, hoped, that that might have been her intention.

Once she’d settled herself on her elbows, he looked up into her eyes. He made a show of snaking his tongue out, letting it cruise all around the edges of her beautiful cunt lips. He wished he could use his hands to spread them wider, to open her to him, but that was against the rules. He repeated the motion, but this time he cheated just a bit, letting his tongue touch and brush the tips of her shimmering pubic hairs, knowing that she must feel it.

He worked his way up to her clit, ever so close to touching her flesh, stealing occasional glances to see that she was still watching, and to enjoy the expression of animal lust on her face as he worked. Once he reached her swollen button, he stopped to blow on it, too. As she felt his breath on her clit, Amy squealed again in delight, and then laughed.

“Oh, yes Daddy. Yes, you’re good, you’re good.”

She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensations. He waited until she was watching again to move his tongue in quick, tight circles in the air above her clit. If he could touch her, he would stay here for hours, doing just this, working her clit over and over with his tongue until she begged him to fuck her, then longer still, until he couldn’t take it any more.

* * *

Her daddy made a beautiful, precious “o” with his lips, shaping them as if he were ready to take her clit completely into his mouth, to suck on it lovingly for her pleasure. Amy threw her head back onto her pillow, immediately regretting that the act hadn’t accidentally pushed her tormented pussy against his delicious mouth.

She threw her head from side to side, feeling like this torture she’d created for herself was an unbearable agony. She couldn’t stand it, having him there, having a handsome, sexy, powerful man right there, ready to fill her needs, yet not. If only he weren’t her father.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” she begged, partly as part of the game, but mostly as a veiled expression of her true desires.

“Fuck me as much as you want. Fuck your princess now.”

* * *

Don stayed where he was, pretending to work on her clit, blowing warm breaths on her thighs and her glistening cunt lips, teasing her incessantly as she begged him to take her. He loved being there, being that close to her, seeing how wet he had made her. The scent of her filled his nostrils in a way no woman’s ever had. He’d always sensed it, that scent, but had never knowingly enjoyed the aroma of a woman’s sex like he did now.

He reminded himself that she was his daughter. He had to, to keep himself from abandoning all restraint and plunging into her right at that moment. But if there was any way that he could, he was going to make her come, almost no matter what it took.

Finally, when he felt he couldn’t listen to her pleas for him to fuck her any longer, he slid smoothly up to hold his body over hers, very carefully keeping his arms and thighs and body from touching her at all.

* * *

Amy looked up into her father’s stern face as he held himself above her, propped on two strong arms. She looked down the length of their bodies, watching his rigid cock as it moved up and back in a sawing motion, over her pubic hair and her belly, just as it would if it were inside her. The action worked well because of the wickedly delicious bend in his cock. Without it, his cock head would have been brushing against her skin. Instead, the ridge of his shaft glided over her like a sea gull skimming along over an ocean.

He would move his cock down low, hovering right at the opening of her pussy, threatening to plunge into her at any moment. He would thrust himself forward, always keeping the tip of his cock just away from Amy’s cunt lips, always depriving her of the feel of his cock actually touching her hungry pussy.

He was so deliciously close. It would be so easy for him to enter her then. He could do it, just once, just for a while, just to let the forlorn insides of her cunt know how it felt. She wouldn’t mind. Just for a short while.

She watched his cock move toward her, then pull back, move toward her, then pull back. She waited until she had a sense of the rhythm, his rhythm, then she closed her eyes, trying to imagine it inside her. She moaned quietly at the thought, then more loudly. Soon her own sounds filled her ears as if made by another woman.

She snapped her eyes open, embarrassed that she’d let herself go so far, so fast. She looked into his face, to see him grinning at her. She melted beneath him yet again.

“Do you like it, Princess? Do you like having my cock slipping in and out of you like this?”

She smiled up at him, while closing her eyes and nodding, returning to her world of imagined fulfillment.

“Yes, baby, yes. I do, I really do.”

“You like my cock?”

“Yes.”

She lay there for a long time, occasionally opening her eyes to see him studying her face, or to watch his cock as it moved across her. She spent a while studying his expression, too, smiling at him, being sure to let him know she liked it, loved it, in fact. His eyes were so intense. He looked so serious, like it was so important to him to get this right, to make her happy. Nowhere in the world was she ever going to find a man like her dear father.

He was patient with her, unhurried. Amy closed her eyes, lost in that thought, lost in the idea of being slowly taken by her strong father. The thought suddenly set her clit throbbing, thrilling her as her pussy grew wetter.

He broke the silence abruptly.

“Show me you like it,” he said, his voice suddenly deeper, and more commanding. “Show me what you’d do with my cock, if you could.”

Amy’s eyes opened again, drawn by both the words and the tone. Her father shifted his body abruptly, moving smoothly onto his back beside her.

* * *

Don watched as Amy lifted herself up from the pillow. Her breasts floated over him, pleading with him to reach out and touch them. As he lifted his mouth to them she froze. He moved as close as he could, as close as he possibly could, with his lips, then froze there, too, to stare up into her eyes.

* * *

Amy could feel his breath on her nipples now. It was hot and moist, warmer than it had felt against her wet cunt. She eased herself forward, mischievously trying to force contact between her nipple and his lips, but he saw it coming, drifting back just enough to keep her away.

Amy laughed aloud at him, and herself, for being caught trying to break the rules. He moved his nose and his cheeks around her skin, as if he were caressing the smooth curves of her tit with his face, with the scruff on his chin. He did that for a while, shifting between her breasts, seemingly enjoying this more than anything, which made her enjoy it all the more. He looked up at her with his own green-brown eyes.

“Suck my cock, Amy. Suck your father’s cock.”

The harsh, incestuous words excited her more than anything yet. She hadn’t expected it to. She had been trying to think of him only as a man, one she knew intimately, one she respected, and one she was physically attracted to, but not entirely as her father. She was constantly aware of the fact, but kept pushing it back.

She knew that was a lie. She knew all along what she was doing and thinking. But when he had said it out loud, when he had put it into words, it all came bubbling to the surface. It thrilled her.

“I can’t wait to suck it, Daddy. Your little girl’s going to make love to your cock like no other woman ever could,” she said, making her voice as breathy and as sexy as she could, feeling suddenly, unstoppably wicked.

* * *

Don watched as Amy lowered her mouth towards him. She stopped to look at him. Her beautiful, cover girl face gazed lovingly and lustily into his eyes past his own rock hard cock. He felt it twitch and respond, almost as if he could come at that moment, just at the sight of her.

Amy’s beautiful, full, wide lips opened slowly, dramatically. She placed them just short of the base of his cock, then let them glide erotically but casually up the length of his shaft, always just a fraction of a twitch away from touching him. She moved back to the base the same way, then repeated the motions. There she copied him, blowing on his cock, at first softly, then more firmly, with hot, heavy, tickling breaths. She moved her lips up and down the length of it, along the outer ridge and the sides, and even the head, blowing on it the whole time.

Don sucked in a sharp, loudly appreciative breath of his own, then released a moan of sheer, sinful pleasure.

* * *

The sounds he made for her were fantastic. She didn’t think she’d ever want to listen to a man again, unless it was her daddy enjoying the pleasure she was bringing him.

Amy moved to position her face in front of the very tip of his cock. Once there she opened her mouth as wide as she could. She had to be careful, now, or she would touch him. She concentrated as she slowly, carefully, precisely lowered her lips over his cock, taking it as far inside her mouth as she could without letting it skim her lips or teeth or tongue.

Once she’d gone as far as she dared, Amy closed her eyes and held herself there, enjoying the thought of her position, and wishing she had the nerve to close her mouth on him. Then she imagined him coming, then and there, in her mouth. She imagined him overwhelmed by the sight of his darling daughter with her mouth around his cock, so overwhelmed that he would shoot a satisfying blast of cum straight onto her eager, waiting tongue.

* * *

Don could feel his eyes open wider as he watched his daughter lower herself onto his cock, actually taking him into her mouth. The raw heat of her breath and mouth that close to his cock, surrounding it, was mind wrenching. He didn’t think any woman’s mouth, any woman’s cunt, had ever felt that hot, and she wasn’t even touching him.

Nothing, no real blowjob, no experience at all, in his entire life, was ever going to match this.

His hands found the sheets at his side, grabbing them in bunches to help fight back the urge to surrender to his lust. They offered a feeble substitute for what he wanted, to instead reach out to grab her head and force her completely onto his aching dick.

“Oh, God, Princess, Shit, shit, shit. Baby, please, please…” he begged, knowing, hoping she would ignore him, but hoping, wishing she couldn’t.

Amy pulled her mouth away as she shifted positions again. When she did so, she flipped her head to clear a lock of hair from her eyes. The action tossed her long hair about. It fell across his cock in a rush, breaking the rules. It was only the slightest breeze of a touch, the feather touch of her long hair, but compared to the extended torment of imagined contact, it felt like a strong, firm hand grabbing and squeezing his shaft. The sudden, physical sensation, after the seemingly endless moments of suffering, was exquisite.

* * *

The loud, tortured moan that came from her daddy’s mouth shocked Amy, almost sending her into an orgasm herself. She could actually feel her own clit pulsing, throbbing with the need to come. She hadn’t intended to, but she’d touched him with her hair. She decided now that that was allowed by the rules. She purposely lifted her head to move it about, dragging her long straight hair back and forth across his stomach and inner thighs and his raging, pleading cock.

“Amy, Baby, sweet Amy, sweet little baby girl, yes, please, yes…”

Her daddy’s pleas were endless. He begged and begged for her to tease him, as if she would ever have the will to stop herself.

* * *

Don looked down to watch her. She was cheating with herself, too. She had one hand between her legs, gently rubbing her pussy. That was absolutely cheating, he thought. He should be doing that for her.

He watched, enchanted, as Amy lowered her eyes to the side of his shaft, agonizingly close, staring at his cock. She fluttered them, brushing her eyelashes quickly across the sensitive skin. He sucked in another sharp, approving breath.

She started to moan loudly, uncontrollably, as she rubbed herself harder and faster. Her head moved more quickly, too, violently whipping her hair across his cock. The feel of it was incredible. He had already felt that he couldn’t take any more, that if she simply looked into his eyes at that moment he would come for her. But now, with her hair whispering against his skin, back and forth, like the cunt of a phantom, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He never thought it would happen, that this game would ever take him this far, but he felt himself build to and past the point of complete release.

* * *

Amy had been holding herself back, trying not to come, slowing her own fingers and fighting back the feelings of love and lust and longing. Then she watched in joy as his cock suddenly stiffened. A moment later a wave of cum shot out of it, spewing drops across his belly as far as his ribs. Some of them landed on her golden hair, delighting her.

He had come for her, and on her, if only on her hair. Her sexy father had come on her. She had made him come on her.

His cock jerked again. She watched smugly as he came again, at her whim, leaving more pools of cum above and below his sexy navel. The drops gathered into rivulets in the sharp creases between his abdominal muscles, glistening for her in the soft, dark light like diamonds.

Amy listened then to her daddy’s panting breaths as he recovered from the experience. She felt him move, lifting his head to look at her. She eagerly looked back at him, grinning.

* * *

Don lay there at that moment, totally in love with his daughter. He was utterly entranced by the sight of her as she extended her tongue and lowered it only to stop, tantalizingly short, of each drop of cum on his belly. She moved from one drop to the next, pretending to lick and kiss and suck his belly clean. She smiled as she mimed relishing and greedily swallowing every drop of his cum.

He instinctively reached toward her head with one hand, only just remembering to stop himself in time. He allowed himself one, brutal moment of pretending to press her head against him, to slip his fingers into her golden hair and force her to take his cum more eagerly. When it became too much, he let his hand drop to his side where he once again grabbed handfuls of sheets in frustration.

She looked up at him with a face full of pure, kittenish lust. She was so beautiful.

“You fucking sweet minx,” he growled at her. “You fucking, beautiful, sweet, evil minx.”

She pushed herself upright. He looked at her firm breasts in the dim light, then let his eyes wander down to where her hand still gently rubbed her clit. He felt further frustration that he couldn’t help her more, that he was failing her. He’d come, she’d made him come, and he couldn’t do the same for her.

She moved then, abruptly, purposefully, to carefully straddle him, balancing on the balls of her feet, always sure to avoid contact, always sure to obey the rules.

She hovered there, with her cunt just above his tormented, but satisfied, cock. He’d come, yes, but he still needed more. He needed to be touched. He needed to touch her. He desperately wanted to feel himself inside of her. The thought of it kept him hard.

She rocked back and forth, as if rubbing her pussy against him, all the while rubbing her hands on her clit. When she moved, she was close enough that he could feel the searing heat of her, the heat of his daughter’s burning golden cunt on his now hypersensitive prick. She cheated further, letting one long finger slip into her slit, then she withdrew it, glistening, for him to see.

“See what you’re doing to me, Daddy? Tell me you want me, too. Tell me you want me the way I want you,” she begged.

“I can’t, Baby, I can’t have you,” he replied, his voice hoarse and throaty.

“You can’t, but tell me you want me. Say it!”

“Fuck, yes, Princess, fuck yes, I want you.”

“Say it again, Daddy,” she pleaded. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

Her voice was rising, becoming frantic. The pace of her hand against her cunt had quickened, too. She had one finger deep inside herself now, while the heel of her thumb made harsh, violent circles on her clit. She drew her breaths in sharply, in a staccato of quick, short, bursts. Each time she exhaled a small squeal escaped from her throat.

“I want you, Princess, I want to fuck you. I do,” Don said boldly, forcefully, leaving no doubt that he truly meant it. “I want to fuck the shit out of you, Baby, I want to fuck you all night long, I want to fuck my sweet daughter’s hot wet cunt all fucking night.”

“Me too, Daddy,” she cried. Her words became almost incoherent as her body began to shudder in climax. “Me too, I want to fuck you, too, Daddy, I want to fuck my father, my big strong daddy. Please fuck me, Daddy, please.”

Her pleas turned to screams mixed with moans. Her head whipped about, tossing her hair through the air. Don watched her tits vibrate marvelously, rocked by the force of her orgasms, until she fell to the bed at his side, panting and laughing and moaning, all at once.

* * *

It was still dark when Don awoke, with Amy at his side. In their sleep she had rolled over beside him. Her head rested against his shoulder, finally and completely breaking the golden rule of the night.

Don kissed her once, on the forehead, for real, praying it wouldn’t wake her. Then he carefully and quietly left the bed and the room. He dressed thoughtfully as he looked out the window at the city skyline.

He wanted to stay. He wanted her to wake up in his arms, but there was no way he could. They were both going to be mortified in the bright light of day. They probably wouldn’t even be able to speak to each other for weeks.

She was too important to him. He had to get out now, to give her her space, and to let them both come to grips with what they’d just done.

Somehow, though, he didn’t feel guilty just yet. He wasn’t sure that it had even qualified as sex, or incest. After all, they hadn’t touched each other. He never laid a hand on his gorgeous daughter. It didn’t count.

But she’d come for him, and she had made him come more forcefully and satisfyingly than he’d ever thought he could.

* * *

Two days had gone by without a word from her father. Amy was trying to play it cool, to let him deal with it however he wanted, but it was killing her. She couldn’t stay away from him for so long. The whole experience was just too damn fantastic, and she loved him too much. She missed him.

She made her mind up to call him and invite him to lunch on Monday.

* * *

As Amy left the restaurant, she could feel her daddy looking at her ass again. She didn’t have to look. She knew. She’d worn the sexiest thing she could for him today, knowing as she dressed that morning that he would look. From now on, she was going to tease him as much as she could.

She had no idea if it would ever happen again. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to. Another part of her hoped they had the courage to do even more, but she knew that would be a mistake, too.

It would probably never happen again, but she could still play games.

She could spend the rest of her life getting pleasure from not touching her fantastically sexy father.

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A good daughter knows she shouldn't touch her father, 6.0 out of 10 based on 5 ratings