This story is the first in a series of 21 to 18 year old young ladies and their father. There is NO under aged content at all.

Aimee checked her gold Winnie the Pooh watch that faced the inside of her wrist. 3:20. Perfect! She made it home from class with just enough time. Quickly she leapt down the seven stairs of her family’s split-level house to her bedroom. Her shoulder pushed the door open, and in no time she was tossing her backpack to the floor and kicking off her shoes.

Raising her arms, she shucked her shirt off in one swift motion. It fell carelessly to the floor next to her backpack. Next, she shimmied out of her tight jean shorts. Kicking her right foot into the air, the denim slipped off her toes and somersaulted in to the air before landing nearly two feet away.

She walked in her lemon-yellow lace bra and panties back towards the door to her room, her hands behind her back working on the bra’s clasp. At the door, the material broke free. She lifted it over each ample breast, causing them to bounce slightly as they fell back in place. Giggling, Aimee tossed the flimsy material towards her hamper. It hit the rim and landed halfway in, halfway out.

Before turning back around she pushed the door hard with her hand, unaware that it didn’t close fully. Not that it was necessary, though. She would easily be home alone until a quarter to five at the earliest. But, she supposed, it was better safe than sorry.

Only her panties remained on now. She lazily made her way over to her bed, relishing in the feeling of walking around her bedroom almost nude. At her bed, though, she wasted no time settling in and getting comfy. She hooked an index finger into each side of her waistband and slid her panties down her hips until they rested around her knees.

Then, and only then, did she reach for her favorite toy. She turned it on, giggling at its loud noise. She flipped it around the wrong way and slowly dragged its handle across her body. Though the vibrating nub that she loved so much was not touching her skin, she loved the sensation dancing on her nipple nonetheless.

She brought her toy over to her other nipple and cried out as her fingers pinched the vacated one, a string of “Ooos” escaping her lips. She wasn’t quite sure when she first discovered it, but for as long as she could remember, now, she liked it a bit rough. It wasn’t like some boyfriend had hurt her and she learned to like it or whatever. In fact, she had never had a real boyfriend yet. Sure, there were those innocent “group dates” to the movies, mall, or arcade when she was younger but that was it.

Pleasure in pain was something she had discovered on her own. The pinching made her skin feel alive! She loved giving her nipples, or even her clit, a nice, hard tug. Whatever skin managed to find its way between her fingers would be squeezed almost to the point of excruciating before it was finally released. At the same time, her other hand would be pleasuring her body.

As if it had a mind of its own, Aimee’s toy slid across her flat, tanned belly; the vibrations tickled her here. She stifled a giggle as it continued to move lower. It now rested n her thick patch of brown fuzzy hair. Allowing the toy to hum here for a while, she enjoyed the sensation.

* * *

At a quarter to four in the afternoon, John came home to a surprisingly quiet house. “Hello?” he called out from the split-entry landing. No one called back. He made his way up the seven stairs to the main living quarters. Again, he called out.

“Barbara, dear?” he asked in an almost sarcastic tone, then with a softer, more loving approach added, “Girls?”

Still no one answered him. Could it be that he had really beaten everyone home on a Friday afternoon? Though it was hard, at times, to remember his three daughters’ activity schedules, he was almost certain that there was nothing extracurricular on Fridays. Normally during the school year they were reserved for the much dreaded dates or less threatening outings with their girlfriends.

A quick glance in the kitchen proved there were no early preparations in the works for dinner. Down the hall, his youngest daughter’s room was quiet. So was the family computer room. John pushed the last door on the left open. It was the bedroom he and his wife shared, though no one would have guessed.

No touch of masculinity graced the room. From the floral comforter in arraying hues of pink, orange, and yellow, to the floral curtains that matched, he felt out of place in this room. That was okay with him, though. Truth be known he was rarely in the room. He spent most nights on the couch, that is the nights he didn’t fall asleep sitting at the computer in the leather office chair, waking long before his daughters so he could hide the evidence.

Today seemed like a good day to cut the grass, John decided. Rarely was he home early, and even more rarely was he home alone. Though he loved his girls dearly, sometimes it felt like a chore to do the ‘daddy thing’ at home. He wondered how many times he would have to kill a spider, unclog hair from a drain, or plunge a toilet before they could learn to do them on their own.

Even worse than the never-ending daddy chores was the honey-do list that never seemed to shrink. Spring through autumn it seemed like ‘mow the lawn’ remained on the list twice-weekly. But that one was okay. To him, mowing was not a chore. In fact, he loved it. There was nothing quite like stripping down to only a pair of shorts and climbing atop a Deere riding lawnmower. It was damn near Heaven.

Quickly, he disrobed. First thing to go was his shirt, then his socks. Next he peeled himself from his tight work jeans. Once down to only his undies, he walked across the room to his dresser – the only thing that was his in this room. There he pulled out a pair of black draw-string cotton shorts from the bottom drawer. Straightening back up, he gently kicked it shut once again. He was about to slip the shorts on when a thought came to him. As quickly as his initial strip, he hurried out of his underwear before finally pulling the shorts up.

He smiled as he gathered his clothes into a bundle for the waiting hamper. It felt so much nicer going commando. With each step that he took, his balls swung slightly, sending mini shock-waves of pleasure throughout his body. The sensation teased him, tantalizing his senses. It was like an ongoing ‘baby orgasm’ hugging his body. He smiled once more as a memory from his youth flooded back to him. In his mind, he said, “Yes please.”

* * *

The nub of Aimee’s favorite toy had finally begun its vibration on her most sensitive part. It danced and jumped across her engorged clit. Several fingers on both of her hands held her pussy lips open, causing that meaty button to pop from under its protective hood. It had nowhere to hide. Aimee knew this as much as her body did. She was playing Devil’s advocate; torturing and teasing herself by placing her toy directly over the tip. She held it there firmly, pressing the plastic hard against her flesh.

* * *

John was rounding the entry landing and starting his descent into the basement hen he heard it. Once downstairs, the sound grew stronger. It was an odd vibration of sorts, something he had never heard before. His mind first raced to a vibrating dildo, his heart sinking at the memory and pain he felt when his wife first took a preference to it over him so many years ago.

That wasn’t it, though, he realized. This vibration was louder, faster. Chuckling slightly, he wondered if mini-chainsaws had ever been invented and manufactured. But surely no product would have any use other than for his own amusement. So what was it then? What could this foreign sound be?

The bathroom door directly at his right was open, but the room was dark and vacant. So was his middle daughter’s bedroom in the far back corner. Since the sound had not come from behind him, he knew the laundry room was also out of the question. That left the door directly in front of him now, his eldest daughter’s room, it stood ominous, left open a crack.

His hand hovered in midair, nearly touching the smooth, wood surface. Did he dare push it open? No cries of distress could be heard from within the room. If he didn’t knock first he would be invading her privacy. He knew this. It was not worth losing her trust to just barge in.

When the girls were younger, their mother did that to them often. He was always the one that they came to when it happened. He was their knight in shining armor, their protector, their confidant. It would kill him if he lost that with Aimee now.

Slowly he pulled his hand back as it began to form a fist. He was just about to knock when he received the shock of his life.

* * *

“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me, Daddy!”

Aimee’s lips were pulled obscenely wide. She held them open with both hands while balancing her toy as best she could with her right. Her left hand shifted slightly, allowing the middle finger access to her puckered asshole.

“Give me your cock, Daddy!” she cried once more in a hoarse whisper.

Her finger worked at a fevered pace, plunging in and out of her tight hole. Spit was her only lube but it was more than enough for her. When it came to a finger, she was a pro! She couldn’t remember the first time she’d ever masturbated anally, anymore, but it had been her favorite method for many years. That, and her toy on her clit, that is.

Eyes now closed, Aimee was completely engulfed in her fantasy. In her mind’s eye, Daddy was positioned above her. They were both naked, and she was gazing into his dreamy blue-gray gems. She was on her back, her tush propped up on a pillow to raise it, legs up on his shoulders. And he was ramming his cock into her tightest of holes.

The faster she finger fucked herself the more real it felt; save for the size, of course. She saw her daddy’s cock years ago. She hid in his closet as soon as she heard the shower turn on, making sure to leave the door open a crack. Once finished, he entered his bedroom, unaware of her presence.

As soon as he removed his towel, tossing it at the hamper like a wet basketball, her eyes fixated on his cock. It was the first one she’d ever seen. To her, it looked curiously interesting. It was rigid and thick with an odd looking, but not unpleasantly so, top. She remembered vividly that it was a deep purplish-red in color and had thick veins running down its length.

One of the neatest things to her, though, was what hung below that cock. His balls. They looked so big and soft, like hairy hacky sacks. And, oh, that hair! Daddy had a lot of it. It was brown and looked fuzzy. She figured it would tickle like his chest hair did when she hugged him without a shirt on. She loved that feeling. The more she looked at him, at his cock, the more she wanted to touch it.

Daddy had surprised her that day. While he walked around his room with his cock pointing north, his left hand never left it. He made a tight fist, sliding it up and down the shaft. Though she had never seen a man masturbate before, it did not seem odd to her. After all, she knew from personal experience that ‘it felt good to touch your privates’, so why should Daddy be any different?

What did seem odd to her, though, was what happened next.

His search, and wandering, came to an end at the head of the bed. There, he rummaged underneath his pillow for a minute. When his hand reemerged, it was clutching something very familiar to her. He had her panties in his hand! And not just any panties, either. Oh no! He had her white silky boy-shorts, the brand new ones her mother bought for her from Victoria’s Secret just weeks earlier.

She thought she had somehow lost them and remembered how upset she had been at the time. They had been her first ‘sexy’, mature pair with their delicate stitching and Victorian-style lace trim. Now she found herself wondering why Daddy had them.

It didn’t take long for her to receive an answer. Left hand still on his cock, his right raised her panties to his face. They hovered there, mere inches away. She watched as he inhaled deeply though his nose. He was savoring her scent! He brought the panties closer until the material touched his skin and closed his eyes.

His hand pumped his cock faster as he continued to inhale her essence. It was possible that Aimee didn’t fully understand what she saw that day hiding in the closet, but she knew one thing for sure. She liked watching touch himself.

She felt a tingling sensation between her legs as she watched him. The feeling was not new to Aimee; she knew what it meant. She was getting aroused watching Daddy. Slowly, her hand snaked its way up the pant leg of her cotton shorts. It found her panties but didn’t stop there. At the leg hole, a couple of fingers slid under the fabric until her whole hand was hidden inside.

Her body shook the second a fingertip grazed her sensitive button. She didn’t know it then, but she had been blessed with a rather large clit that was always swollen and sensitive to touch. Back then, though, she thought all girl’s buttons were the same.

When Daddy came, Aimee was in for a surprise! She looked at him intently, fingers still roaming her own body, as he began to moan. Soon, the moaning turned to quick, guttural grunts. She watched on as his body began to shake slightly. Her own body had begun to send the tickling sensation she loved throughout itself; starting in her loins, but quickly climbing up her spine and spreading elsewhere.

Daddy pulled her panties from his face. She figured he was done with them but couldn’t have been more wrong! He quickly transferred them from his right hand to his left, wrapping them around his cock in the process. His hand moved rapidly, squeezing himself tightly. The vacated hand moved to his balls. He began gently massaging them, building up his pleasure.

With a hoarse cry, he called out, “Aimee, my darling baby, I love you!”

And with that, he sent white cream spilling from the swollen head of his cock. Stream after thick gooey stream shot onto the cotton crotch of his daughter’s new panties. The force of the explosions pushed some through his parted fingers and she watched, mesmerized, as it ran down his hand.

* * *

John couldn’t believe his eyes. Against his better judgment, he peered through the opened crack of his eldest daughter’s door. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now he couldn’t tear himself away.

She was sprawled out on her bed; alone, thankfully, despite her recent vocalizations. Her eyes were closed tightly. He realized there was no way she’d know he was watching her. His pangs of guilt quickly yielded to the stir in the front of his shorts. Subconsciously, his hand traveled to his cock. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was already hard. His desire for Aimee was no secret to himself.

He slid his hand down the waistband of his ‘tented’ shorts. There was a brief moment of pain, then relief, when he straightened himself out. Slowly, he began rubbing his hard-on as he watched his baby girl writhe on her bed.

“Fuck me, Daddy!” she cried again as she violated herself. “It feels so good when you’re in my ass!”

Her eyes remained closed; he could tell that she was lost within her fantasy. She wanted him to fuck her in the ass! He couldn’t believe it! It was something he had wanted to try since his own youth, but no girl he ever dated would let him. Not even his wife would.

It was something you just didn’t do. His wife’s words flooded back to his mind as if they had just been uttered. Butt sex was taboo, dirty. Nice girls would never allow a guy there, no matter how much she loved him.

So, Aimee wasn’t a nice girl? He chuckled softly, his smile broadening. We’ll have to see just how naughty she was, he thought.

May 2018
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