Copyright (c) 2018, Hardguy. ALL Rights Reserved Date of first publication: Thursday, April 19, 2018 Author: Hardguy Title: Daddy's Bed Summary: Alan encounters the unexpected when his daughter repeatedly asks to sleep with him. Keywords: M/f/g, f/g, ped, inc, dad/dau, bro/sis, 1st, cons, mast, preg The following story is a work of fiction, meant to entertain the reader. It may contain offensive language of a graphic sexual and/or violent nature and details many activities which are highly illegal in much of the modern world. I do not condone or encourage any activity that may be harmful to the wellbeing of a minor, no matter the circumstances. Please realize that there is a line between being a pedophile and being a child molester. Any time that line is crossed, an innocent life is destroyed and a monster is created. Please do your part to ensure that all children are kept safe from those who cannot see that line. Thank you. Daddy's Bed Written by Hardguy Chapter 1 "Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?" That was how it started. My 11-year old daughter complaining of insomnia and loneliness, the solution to which was in her mind crawling in bed with me, the only parent she unfortunately had. I had gotten her mother pregnant in a one-night-stand on a business trip I took to Australia, and it was almost nine years later that I learned I had left anything behind other than my tie half a world away. I still wasn't sure how they found me, but poor little Trisha needed me. Her mother had died suddenly from a brain aneurysm, and as her parents had already passed away, the little girl was without anybody to take care of her. "Sure, sweetheart," I replied. She flashed me a shy grin and bounded onto the bed, her braided hair bouncing as she clambered over to me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Daddy," she said with that endearing accent she'd brought with her from the Land Down Under. Although we'd been living together for the last two years, I was still finding something new about her every day. Today's discovery? She'd sprouted a pair of tiny tits. This I learned as she pulled back from the kiss on the cheek she'd just given me, her nightshirt hanging down to reveal the pink little peaks jutting out from her chest. She must have noticed my staring, as she regarded me with a curious look. "What is it, Daddy?" "Your shirt, sweetheart...it's, uh, kind of loose." That only seemed to puzzle her more, until she looked down and her eyes grew big at what she saw. "Oh wow!" she shouted. "I have boobies, Daddy! My boobies are growing!" It seemed she was as surprised by their appearance as I was. Hurriedly, and without regard for me being right there in her presence, she pulled off the nightshirt and began to grope and rub the little bumps, with only her panties keeping her one step away from full nudity. This made me somewhat uncomfortable to watch. While she was woefully immature and my own daughter to boot, there was still the fact that I, as a man, had a rather predictable reaction to seeing a pair of bare breasts. "Yes, sweetheart, it would appear that you do," I said with nervous laughter, looking away. I really didn't know what to do now. While she had no hang-ups about baring her chest around me, I still wanted to respect her privacy. As you might imagine, after two years together, I'd caught a few looks at her in the buff, always with a blush and a hurriedly placed hand between her legs on her part. It would appear however that her sense of modesty went no higher than her belly. She laid down beside me, and frowned as her new toys seemingly melted back into her chest. "Awww..." she whined. "They went away. I look like a boy again." There was a smart remark I felt like making just then, but the less attention drawn to the sizable bulge below my waist the better. "Do you like them, Daddy? Your willy is getting big." She surprised me with that observation. I'd certainly never taught her about erections or what causes them. Must have been one of her little friends at school, or something she saw on TV. "I, uh...they're very...um...nice, Trish," I sputtered nervously, trying not to look at her. "I made your willy grow, didn't I?" she giggled at me. "Mummy told me that boys did silly things when a girl made their willy big." That mystery was quickly solved. I knew of course that her mother hadn't been too much of a prude seeing as how it had taken only a few drinks and a dance for me to be sweating atop her. She'd had quite a mouth on her too that night. Perhaps Trish had picked up a little street smarts over those nine years in her mother's care. "Okay, that's enough talk, cute stuff. Put your nightshirt back on and get some sleep," I told her, avoiding the question with my authority. "You're no fun," she grumbled and pulled the shirt on over her head. She burrowed under the covers and lay on her side, keeping a vigil over the lump in my sheets. Unfortunately for her I came to the end of a chapter in my book, and switched off the light. "Goodnight, sweetheart," I told her as I kissed her forehead and settled down beside her. "Goodnight Daddy...and your silly willy," she giggled after a beat. I had to admit, she was gonna be a little hottie when she grew up...and that both terrified and excited me. Chapter 2 "Daddy?" came the sweet little voice from my doorway the next night. "Can I sleep with you again?" I looked up from my book and while my jaw muscles went slack, another part of me started to firm up. Standing at the doorway was my sweet little Trish, wearing only a small t-shirt and panties. Panties, that were at least two years too small for her, and though they did the job of covering what they needed to cover, they did it rather close. The little mound I'd been privy to seeing at most twice a year, was all but on display if not for the white cotton stretched taut over it. If I had looked up 'camel toe' in a dictionary, there would have been a picture of my daughter's crotch at that moment next to it. This was in stark contrast to the rather baggy panties she had been wearing the night before that had given nothing about her anatomy away. "Uh...well, I guess," I responded, a little shocked myself by how readily I let her join me. As Trish smiled and bounded onto my bed, I couldn't help noticing her little boobs pressing on the shirt she wore. It looked almost a size too small as well. "I love sleeping with you, Daddy," she lilted before stretching her body out next to me. It was like she...like she wanted me to look. "Is your willy hard now, Daddy?" she asked point-blank. It most certainly was, but the sheets were bunched up keeping her from seeing for herself. "Trish..." I started, but I was at a complete loss at how to go on. How in the hell was a grown man supposed to tell a little girl...no, how was a father supposed to tell his pre-teen daughter that she was an ace at getting his cock up? "Look Daddy, this is new too!" she said, shaking me from my moment of deep thought on this predicament. I refocused my attention on her, and was completely stunned by what she was (trying to) show me. She was up on her knees and her panties had been pulled down far enough (which wasn't that far at all) to show the start of her slit. She had a finger pointing at a spot on her pudgy little girl mons pubis. "T-Trisha! What are you doing?!" I hoarsely demanded, my mouth having gone dry as another part of me made use of my bodily fluids. "I've got a hair on my fanny, Daddy!" The first time she ever said fanny to me, I was incredibly confused. I'd just had my first accidental look at her naked, and it was a fully frontal view without a hint of backside to it. She had scolded me for seeing 'her fanny,' and I had argued with her that I'd only seen her from the front. It was an uncomfortable moment for the both of us as she explained the Australian meaning of the word 'fanny' in the limited child vocabulary available to her. "Sw-sweetheart, this is incredibly inappropriate..." I stuttered, both wanting to stare and yet not wanting to appear a lech. It was during one of these looks away that I felt a hand grab at me, or rather, grab at it. Even through the layers of my boxers, the sheet, and the comforter, my daughter's hand managed to get a decent enough grip that she giggled madly feeling it jump in reflex. "Your willy wiggled, Daddy!" she squeaked in delight. I was beside myself with a different emotion, however. "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont!" I shouted, using her full name and both my last name and her mother's as it appeared on her legal documents. "You are being an extremely naughty little girl!" So livid was I, that it took several moments before I realized she had drawn back and was shaking in fear. I had never had any reason to raise my voice to such a level with her since she came to live with me, but she had absolutely crossed a line here and brought it out of me. "I-I-I'm sorry Daddy...I just wanted to see what it felt like..." she noticed that I had relaxed once I saw how afraid she was, and made her escape out of my room. I could only sigh and feel horrible about how frightened she'd looked just then. I probably should have gone to her room and had a talk with her, but even I was a little shaken by the moment, that I felt perhaps it would be best to leave it alone until tomorrow. Chapter 3 Slipping into bed, I reflected on the day I'd just had. Trisha had slept in, perhaps on purpose, robbing me of the now routine kiss she'd give me before I leave for work. Since it was the summer and she was out of school, I'd been leaving her home alone in the mornings, returning for lunch, and then leaving her for the afternoons. I never had any qualms about doing so, as Trisha was a good responsible girl who knew better than opening the door to strangers or using the oven (despite her ability to cook better than me). Today had just been...awkward for both of us, and it had robbed her of the usual bubbly personality that I discovered that I missed deeply. Rather than her being up with the birds as is usual, she was still asleep when I went in to say good-bye to her. The rather sultry clothes she'd worn for her stunt the night before were laying on the floor, and I could see that she'd changed into an old t-shirt of mine before going to bed. Though dry, I could see where the tears had streaked down her cheek before she was calmed by sleep. I kissed her cheek and stepped out of her room, fighting tears of my own. She was awake when I arrived home for lunch, but I was still getting the cold shoulder from her. She didn't so much as glance at me before stalking off to her room and closing the door. Still I made her and I lunch, and left it outside her door. I ate there in the hall as well, hoping for a chance to talk when she'd emerge for the food, but I was forced to suffer the hour silent and sullenly. That feeling followed me back to work, and didn't go unnoticed by my colleagues, in particular, our young intern Daisy, whom I'd always secretly desired. I may just have been imagining things, but I got the feeling that the way she lingered behind my back and over my shoulder, pressing her breasts against me, was her way of trying to cheer me up. Dinner fared a little better. I brought home Trish's favorite take out, and found her sitting at an already set table. Normally we'd set it together and talk about the day, but it would seem she'd thought of everything to keep from speaking to me. I spoke to her while we ate of course, but aside from a nod or a shake of her head, I was shut out. I attempted to bring up the previous night, but she just got up and left me there at the table. Sure this made me angry, and I very nearly went as far as to remove her door from its hinges. But I also knew she couldn't stay mad and silent around me forever, so I turned to the punching bag in the garage to work out my frustrations. Later as I tried to relax on the couch with the TV, she came out to finish her food. I kept my mouth shut, as I knew she was in a stubborn little snit, and there was no point in prodding her further. Much to my surprise, after she'd finished and cleaned her plate, she joined me on the couch, and lay against my shoulder. I suppose in a way, it was how she'd decided to forgive and apologize to me for the previous 24 hours. It would appear she craved the same daily physical contact with me that I'd been sorely missing from her since the morning. She fell asleep there next to me, and so I carried her into her room. Though still relatively small, the weight of her body in my arms reminded me that she wasn't getting any younger or more innocent to the world. I considered briefly undressing her and putting her into her pajamas, but if she were to wake and get the wrong idea, considering it was her exposed body that put us into this mood in the first place, what little progress had been made today would be lost. I did however take off her shorts before tucking her in, and I admit, I was tempted to have a feel or a peek, but molesting unconscious girls really isn't my thing. On the way out of her door, I spied the skimpy pair of panties still on the floor where she had left them the night before. Feeling very much like a pervert, I snatched them up and had a sniff. The smell on them was of pussy alright. I looked back at my daughter, sleeping soundly, and took another whiff. My cock got hard, and I got out of there before I did something that I would really feel bad about. That brought me back to now, settling down for my own slumber...well maybe not right away. I still had Trisha's panties in my hand, and the feel of Daisy's perky teen tits pressed on my back seared into my memory. Putting the tiny strip of cloth to my nose, and my hand around my shaft, I started pounding away at myself, all while imaging what Daisy looked like without that blouse on today. Unfortunately my most recent frame of reference for what female breasts actually looked like, were those on Trisha's chest. I wound up jerking myself to a mix of preteen precociousness and teenage temptations. Using the only thing I had on hand to collect it, I spilled my load into my little girl's balled up knickers. As I basked there in my post-orgasm glow, a distant rumble of thunder sounded outside. They'd mentioned the possibility of storms on the news tonight, and sure enough, there it was. While there had only been about a 20% chance of thunderstorms, there was a 100% chance of what happened next: a half-naked preteen girl came running into my room and cowered next to me. Storms were not Trisha's favorite thing. When I said half-naked, I meant it too. From the waist down, she was entirely exposed, and the shirt she wore didn't do a thing to hide her cute little bald peach. "Well hello to you too, honey," I said, somewhat bemused, although a little uneasy since I too was naked from the waist down under the sheets, and had a semen loaded pair of little girl's underwear under there as well. "I'm sorry you can see my fanny, Daddy, but I woke up on my bed, and I was changing clothes, and the thunder boomed, and I just ran in here without thinking. Please don't be cross. Please, please, let me stay here with you," she pleaded before cringing at another rumble of distant thunder. There wasn't even any lightning that I'd seen out the window, so I figured the storm must be pretty far away. Regardless, the sound alone was Trisha's personal kryptonite. "It's okay, honey," I assured her. "It's okay this time because you're not being bad about it. You understand the difference, don't you?" "Yes Daddy, I do." I noticed a flash out the window, as did Trish, who squealed. I wanted to roll onto my side and pull her to me, but the soiled knickers and my bare dick gave me pause. She was almost certain to burrow herself under the covers and cling to me, and then what kind of situation would we find ourselves in? I found out almost 30 seconds later as the accompanying thunder boomed and she started to go under. I moved quickly, managing to move the panties away from her and dropping them to the floor beside the bed, but there was little I could do about the feeling of her bare thighs trapping my own between them. She had gotten atop me, straddling my leg, the undeniable feel of her bald sex lips pressed against me just above the knee. I had been limp since just before she rushed into my room, but since my cock tended to hang in the direction she now occupied, the tip, which was still a little wet from my cum, rubbed along her hip. She got over her fear of the elements before she realized the position she had put us into. My dick drippings startled her and made her sit upwards, putting her weight upon my leg, increasing the friction between her cunny and my leg tenfold. She squirmed and gasped at this sensation between us, the stunned look on her deeply reddening face a priceless sight to behold. Her upright position also had the side-effect of lifting the blanket off of me and exposing my now revived member. I had to admit, the view I had of her, dressed in just the little t-shirt, bare from the hips down, riding my leg, was just as great, if not better. "Oh wow," she said, gazing upon me. Up until this point I could understand all that had just occurred as pure chance and accidental contact between the two of us. The way she then ground herself into my knee, twisting her hips, and whimpering, seemed a little more intentional. "T-Trisha..." I sputtered. The sound of my voice seemed to shake her out of whatever trance these new feelings had put her in, and her eyes locked with mine. She looked from my face, to my cock, to my leg that was her unwitting sex partner, and squealed. "Don't look Daddy, don't look!" she begged, grabbing at her t-shirt and trying to pull it to cover her vulva. The shirt, which naturally showed her midriff, couldn't be pulled far enough down to hide anything, but her actions backfired a little and pulled it taut over her little tits, making them stand out on what would otherwise appear to be a flat boyish chest. She was shifting from side to side throughout this panic to regain her modesty, and that only served to stimulate her more, causing her to wince and gasp. As cock-throbbingly fun as I found this, I also was concerned for her well-being, and didn't want her to make a spectacle of herself. "Sweetheart, it's okay," I said, putting my hand over my eyes. I felt her scramble off my leg, the small wet spot left by her little cunt catching the air and cooling my skin. "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rub my fanny on you, honest. Don't be mad at me Daddy. I don't ever want you to be mad at me again," she pleaded with me. I uncovered my eyes and looked at her. She was sitting upright with the sheets bunched up around her waist. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing a little heavily. She was also squirming from side to side as she stared at me, or more specifically she was staring at my still uncovered lower half. Despite my parental instincts screaming at me to pull the sheets up and cover my nakedness from her eyes, I couldn't help feeling that something had changed between me and my little girl. She wasn't the same pony and doll loving little moppet I'd met at an orphanage in Australia. Her body was still childish and immature, but I had seen that changing over the past few nights. Her mind was growing up and changing as well. It was doing so in concert with her body, and was likely fueled by the same surging hormones that were turning her physically from girl to woman. "I suppose we're equals now," I said to her, making a gesture at my penis, highlighting our similar states of exposure to one another. "You've been awfully curious about this, haven't you?" She nodded slowly in agreement with me, and then with a start she looked to my face and quickly covered her eyes, as though she had forgotten her father was attached to the organ she had focused on. "Sorry, Daddy, sorry! I shouldn't look! I'm being very wicked right now, I'm sorry!" I had to admit, I was proud of how respectful she was being for me and my privacy. It had probably been enhanced by my outburst 24 hours earlier and now she was perhaps overreacting a little bit. However, I felt as though I was now just teasing her by leaving my dick out in the open like this, and was having a little joke at her expense. I pulled the sheet up, covering myself, and I could tell she had been peeking through her hands anyways, as she took them away from her eyes once there was nothing more for her to see. "Now, don't you think it's time for you to go back to your own bed, honey?" I asked her. "Yes, Daddy," she said, perhaps a little glum, but with a confused look on her face. No doubt she was wondering why I hadn't yelled at her for everything that had just transpired. She swiveled her body around to get off the bed and rose up from the bundled sheets, flashing me a look at her cute little ass. She hurried out of the room, glancing back at me as she entered the hall, a shy grin on her face. Perhaps she had sensed the same change between us that I had as well, because there was something in her eyes that showed that she felt she had just gotten away with murder. It did occur to me though as I drifted off to sleep, that something she had said didn't make sense. When I had taken her shorts off and tucked her into bed, she was wearing underwear, and to the best of my knowledge, she regularly did so when she slept. Why then had she taken them off in order to change into her usual nightshirt, like she had claimed she was doing when the thunder sounded? Something wasn't adding up. Chapter 4 The next day went on as though the prior 24 hours had never happened. I got my usual hugs, kisses, and chatter from my little Australian princess. I went to work more adjusted and happy than the day before, so much so that a few of my male co-workers wanted to know who the lucky woman in my life was now. If only they knew the truth! Even my desired delicious Daisy took note of this, though she didn't express it in quite the same crude manner as the men had. Trish was acting a little odd when I got home for lunch, though. She was fidgety and seemed to shy away from making eye contact with me, rather like during our encounter in bed the night before. I couldn't help wondering if she'd been touching herself thinking about it. The thought certainly got me hard, but my maturity and experience helped me to keep from letting on. As before, I didn't want to embarrass her. I noticed also that after I kissed her goodbye after lunch, she made a beeline for her room, rather than sitting out and watching TV as was her routine. There was definitely something she didn't want to do where I might see her. She was still nervous when I got home after work. In fact, she was downright on edge about something. I didn't really know what until I went to my bedroom to change out of my office clothes. My bed was completely bare. Every sheet, blanket, and pillowcase was gone. I turned to go back out and question Trish about it, but she was right there behind me, looking quite guilty. "I got your bed messy, Daddy, I'm sorry," she said. "How? What happened?" "I spilled a glass of water on it." I supposed that was plausible, but that didn't explain why it happened on my bed and not in the kitchen or living room. I noticed I had been hearing the washer and drier since I got home, but that wasn't unusual since Trish usually did laundry in the middle of the week, and it was Thursday, though my sheets weren't normally something she'd wash. "Why were you in my room with water?" This question made her freeze, and she stammered about, unable to find any words. This obviously wasn't a detail she'd considered in her explanation. I decided to extend her a little more leniency since my mood had been so good today, but anything further would earn an interrogation. "Oh well, these things happen. Thank you for washing them, honey." She seemed to be relieved and went pale at almost the same time. She was smart enough to know I knew something was going on, but was letting her off the hook. "Y-yes, Daddy, I guess they do. Dinner's almost ready," she said, excusing herself and making an escape. I changed my clothes, and on my way back down the hall to the kitchen, I noticed the sheets were also missing from her bed. 'Another spilled glass of water,' I mused to myself, recalling the wet sensation she had left on my leg. Standing there in her doorway, I glanced down at the hamper by her door. There were not one, but two pairs of panties in an otherwise empty hamper. I glanced quickly down the hall to see if Trish was looking, and then fished out the discarded underwear. Just as I'd expected, they were damp in the crotch, and probably not from spilled water. "Daddy, dinner's ready," she called to me, and I dropped the panties back into the hamper, and started down the hall again. I gave her a smile as I came into view, perhaps too big of one, because she did stare oddly at me. It might be harder to keep these things to myself than I had thought. She brought over the dish to the table, meatloaf, and set it on a trivet. She was skilled in three dishes: meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and pancakes, so it was always one of those on her night to make dinner. I couldn't help thinking she'd be a great wife some day. "It smells, great, sweetheart," I said, sitting down. "Thanks Daddy," she responded with a blush, and took off her apron before sitting across from me at our small table. I noticed she was wearing a skirt as well...hadn't she been wearing shorts at lunch time? "So, aside from spilling water all over the place, what else did you do today, honey?" I asked her, making sure not to ask when her mouth was full. "Just the wash, Daddy," she said, still sounding a little ashamed. We chewed in silence together for a moment. I had noticed that since school had let out, she was much less talkative about her day during dinner, likely because there was nothing particularly interesting about being home alone for hours on end. Unfortunately for her, there was something I wanted to discuss. "Trisha, sweetheart, about last night," I started, seeing her visibly tense up. "I'm not upset with you or anything, but I think it's important that we have a talk about some of what you saw and may have felt." She kept her eyes on her plate, and just nodded. "I realize it's kind of an embarrassing thing and will probably make both of us very uncomfortable, but this is a discussion I'd prefer we have now, instead of at a bad time in the future." She just nodded again, not even poking at her dinner. I opened my mouth, intending to broach the subject of my erect penis, but she was saved by my ringing cell phone from the other room. "Excuse me, sweetheart," I said, getting up from the tension thick table. The number on my phone was from work. "Hello?" "Oh, Mr. Beaumont!" came the sweet voice through the speaker. It was Daisy. "There's something really wrong with the server. It's like it didn't save anything since about two this afternoon. They caught me just before I left, and asked me to call everybody back in." The initial joy I'd felt upon hearing her voice was dashed away. "You're kidding me...gah, okay," I sighed. I looked over at Trisha, who had been looking at me. She saw my eyes on her, and she looked down at her food again. "Well, I'm just in the middle of dinner here, and I'd really rather not leave Trisha home alone at night." "I could watch her for you," Daisy offered on the other end. "I don't really do any of that stuff you and the others do with the server stuff, so I could come over and spend the evening with her until you get home." I swore I heard a bell ring in my head when she said this. "Uh, sure, if you really want to. I don't want to keep you if you had other plans or anything tonight," I replied. "Oh no, it's no problem at all. I'll get your address from H.R., and leave right after I finish calling everybody," she said. I was absolutely impressed with how mature she sounded, and couldn't believe she was still a teenager. "Okay, well, great. It's not a long drive, only about 15 minutes. I think Trisha would really like somebody else to talk to around here, anyways." "Alright, see ya soon, Mr. Beaumont!" she chirped and hung up. I turned back to Trisha who was looking up at me from the table. "Who was that, Daddy?" "That was work, sweetheart. I need to go back for a few hours. A girl who interns for us is going to come over and stay with you until I get back." There was a noticable look of relief on her face when I said I would be leaving. I sat down at the table to finish eating, and dampened her spirits some. "But don't think I'm going to forget about our little talk, Trisha. We'll just have to postpone that until tomorrow night." "Okay," she said, a bit glum, but eating again for the first time since I'd mentioned the other night. I hurried through my food, and then got up to go change my clothes. I didn't have to wait long after that before Daisy showed up. She was still dressed in her white blouse and navy mini skirt that she'd worn to work. There was just this adult air about her that could have easily led somebody to believe she was several years older, despite her smaller stature and youthful face. I supposed though that anybody would have to grow up a little faster after losing their parents while still in high school. "Hi, Mr. Beaumont!" "Come on in, Daisy," I said, taking her hand. I turned towards the kitchen and saw Trisha standing there watching us. "Honey, this is Daisy...uh..." "Barton. Daisy Barton," the teen supplied, looking a little embarrassed. "Right, and this is my Trisha, Daisy." "Hello, Trisha. How do you do?" Daisy asked, without talking to Trisha like so many adults usually did to children. Rather, the tone she used was one that would use with a peer. "Very well, thank you," Trisha said, her accent prompting raised eyebrows from Daisy. "Honey, go on and finish tidying up the kitchen," I dismissed Trisha from the introductions, and turned then to Daisy. "Her voice is adorable! I knew she was from Australia, but I guess I just didn't expect it to be so cute!" Daisy said quietly to me, nearly gushing. "Um, Daisy, I know this might sound like a strange request, but over the last few days Trisha has...well...been going through some growing pains, and they're not really the type that a daughter should have to talk to her father about. I realize this isn't what you had in mind when you offered to watch her for me, but if she starts asking questions of that type, don't feel like you'd be stepping on any toes by answering them for her," I said, hoping I wasn't weirding Daisy out of her babysitting gig with such a strange and potentially inappropriate suggestion. "Uh, gosh, okay. I guess I could. I have a little sister about Trisha's age, so I kinda had to talk to her too about it after our mom died earlier this year. Do you really think she'll ask me, though?" "Honestly, I don't know, but I wanted you to be aware of it. She's not really had any womanly influence since she came to live with me, and it's kind of been a ...thing here lately, and she just might take the opportunity of having a young woman like you being here to gain some insight and guidance from." "I'll do what I can, Mr. Beaumont." "Thank you, Daisy. I think it would save both her and I a lot of embarrassment. It's been a tough few days around here." "Oh, is that why you were so down yesterday?" Daisy asked me sympathetically. I knew she'd noticed. "Kind of, yeah. Well, I suppose I should get going now that you're here. Thank you so much for offering to stay with her tonight." "Oh, it's my pleasure, Mr. Beaumont. If it helps you and the company, I'm just doing my job, I guess." She was so modest, that I felt like kissing her just to impress my gratitude upon her...well, I felt like kissing her for other reasons as well, but this wasn't the time or the place for that. "Trisha, honey, I'm gonna go now," I called out towards the kitchen. Trisha came around the corner back into view and nodded at me. "Okay, Daddy." "Her bedtime is at 10," I said, turning back to Daisy. "She's an angel, so I doubt she'll be difficult at all for you. Just call me at the office if you need anything, and help yourself to any food in the fridge if you get hungry. Hopefully I can get this all done and be back in two hours tops." "Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Beaumont. I think we'll have a lot of fun tonight," Daisy said confidently, giving Trisha a wink. Unaware of my conversation with Daisy, Trisha just looked a bit confused at the comment. "Alright then, bye, girls!" I said and walked out the door. Chapter 5 When I got to the office, I found that the data loss was a little more severe than Daisy had let on. Rather than about two hours of work, the amount was closer to four. Luckily though, the majority of information that needed reentry was preserved on paper or in e-mails, which managed to escape whatever system error had occurred. I ended up getting home about a quarter after 11. The TV was off and Trisha and Daisy were nowhere to be seen in the main part of the house. I headed down the hall and peeked into Trisha's room. The light was off and her bed was made, but there was no little girl laying in it. I had one more place to check before I started to panic, and that was exactly where I found them. They were both sleeping peacefully on my freshly dressed bed. Trisha was already changed into her sleep clothes, while Daisy was wearing one of my t-shirts and sweatpants. I couldn't help noticing her skirt, blouse, bra, and pantyhose in a little pile on the floor. Her hair was no longer done up in a tightly worn bun like she had earlier at work and when she arrived, but was splayed out over my pillow. A hint of shampoo lingered in the air, and I remembered that tonight was Trisha's usual bath night. Given the scene before me, I wondered if Daisy had joined her. I was already stiff from the thought of her panties making contact within those borrowed clothes of mine, but the thought of her naked body in the tub with my daughter's nubile form got me throbbing. I wanted so badly to take a picture of these two angels laid out on my bed, but I figured the flash would wake at least one of them, and then I'd really have some explaining to do. After taking a moment to capture this scene upon my mind for later study, I went to Daisy's side and gently shook her shoulder. "Nnnn, not now, Jace, I'm tired," she muttered half asleep. It did give me pause to wonder who Jace was, and why she might think he was waking her. "Daisy, wake up. I'm home now," I said gently while shaking her still more. Her eyes popped open and she sat up in shock looking at me. "Wha--?" she questioned, before looking around and remembering where she was. I put my finger to my lips, pointed at Trisha's still sleeping body, and then pointed to the hall. Daisy nodded in understanding of my directions and together we left the bedroom for the living room. "Hope I didn't interrupt any good dreams," I joked with her as we sat down together on the couch. She turned a light shade of pink, looking more now like her teenage girl self than the young college student image she usually had. "Oh, no, nothing. Sorry, we just kinda fell asleep talking is all. I hope you don't mind about the clothes. Trisha offered them after our bath." I throbbed so happily after hearing that. "'Our' bath?" I questioned the plural possessive with a smirk. A very shy grin became plastered on Daisy's face. "Yeah, well...I hope that was okay? It really helped her open up to me. She, uh...she asked some pretty surprising things. Stuff I didn't even know about when I was her age. I kinda feel like I need to ask, but, um...she wasn't abused when she was little, was she?" I could see a look of genuine concern on Daisy's face, and maybe even a little suspicion. I couldn't blame her. If a pubescent girl living with her single father asked me things like she was implying were asked, I'd suspect something too. I figured the only way to satisfy her fears would be to explain about the past week...minus the part where I jerked it into Trisha's panties of course. "I'm not aware of any abuse before she came to live with me, but the last few days, like I told you earlier, have been kind of a rollercoaster." I told her of Trisha's innocent exhibitions, how upset I had become with her because of it, wisely changed the encounter in my bed to her catching a look at me getting out of the shower, and my stated intent to have 'the talk' with her this evening. Daisy nodded, giggled, and blushed her way through my story, and looked much more at ease with what she had heard from my daughter's mouth. "Oh wow! It sounds like you two have had quite an interesting couple of days. I mean, when you told me she might ask about things, I thought you meant about periods, or she was worried that she'd never grow big boobs. It kinda makes sense now how all she wanted to talk about was, uh...it." The way Daisy said that last word made it unmistakable what exactly she was talking about. Trisha was curious about sex, most probably sex with me, or at least with a penis like mine. Speaking of which, I was plenty hard at the moment. "Yeah, sorry. I guess I should have prepared you for it a little more. I uh, didn't really know how to say it to you though. It's not really polite conversation matter between co-workers, particularly you and I," I explained. Daisy grinned again at my discomfort due to our age difference and how I was old enough to be her father...that is if I hadn't been so awkward around girls in high school. Maybe it was my imagination, but Daisy seemed to be moving closer to me. "I don't mind, Mr. Beaumont, really. I've had guys older than you talk dirty to me before," she said with a sly grin. I wasn't quite sure what past experiences she was implying with that, but I had a feeling it meant good news for me. "Of course, none of them were as kind or as respectful as you are with me." I never had any illusions that Daisy was a pure little snowflake; most girls her age aren't...hell, they certainly weren't when I was in high school. I was surprised though by the look in her eyes and the hand she was sneaking onto my leg. "Yeah, well, I guess I just think of you more as a person and a diligent co-worker, than a place to stick it." I mentally kicked myself a few times because I could have said that so much better if my brain hadn't been turning over control to my cock. Daisy looked like she rather liked it though. "So you think about that then? Sticking it in me?" I could tell she was just ready to pounce and ride me there on the couch, and the hand that she now had rubbing on my tented pants was a tremendous clue to that end. "Well, aren't you big? I'm jealous of your daughter now...she's already seen it." I hadn't been thinking about Trisha since the conversation steered away from her. She was still asleep in the bedroom, and could wake up anytime now and catch us. "Daisy...maybe we shouldn't...Trisha might wake up..." Another mischievous grin showed me all of Daisy's perfect teeth. "She won't. Not after the fun we had earlier." My eyes widened and my cock throbbed. "Oooh, did you like the thought of that?" Daisy asked me. "She started playing with herself while I told her how good a dick felt inside me. She makes the cutest little squeak when she cums that I just had to keep her going. It's a good thing we were still in the bathroom too, because I don't think I've ever felt a girl get that wet before...you might say it was like a glass of spilled water," she said with a wink. It seemed Trisha had let her in on the events of the day. "Now, are you going to let me pull this thing out, or are you going to have to jerk off in your daughter's panties again?" My jaw hung in shock, how did she know about that? Trisha didn't even know about that incestuous transgression from last night! "Wha--...how did you...?" "They were on the floor beside your bed. Not the best way to keep that shameful little secret." Oh crap, she was right. I'd dropped them and forgot them after Trisha rode my leg. Daisy hadn't forgotten that she was ready to fuck me, and didn't bother asking this time. She unzipped and fished out my dribbling sensitive cock like a pro. "Wow, it's so thick," she marveled as she smeared precum over the head with her thumb. "I can see why Trisha worried about it fitting inside. She's got the cutest little pussy hole inside those smooth lips. This thing would mess her up!" I couldn't stop my cock from pulsing as she described my little girl's privates. Daisy didn't miss it, and knew she had a not just a way to thrill and tease me, but also a secret she knew I wanted kept. "Oh god, you're such a perv," she chided me with glee. "Getting hard and close to cumming just listening to me talk about your little girl's pink little cunny. I hope this doesn't mean I'm too old for you...I'd be a shame if my nice wet ready pussy didn't get fucked." She was really laying it on thick now, complete with a cute (but forced) pout. She sucked my precum from her finger, and stood up in front of me. The crotch of my borrowed sweat pants had a dark stain. Daisy put her hands behind her back, and pushed her chest forward, straining those perky little teen boobs against my borrowed t-shirt, the nipple topped peak of each of them sticking out. There was only one thing she could possibly want me to do now, and I certainly wasn't going to let her down. I put my hands on her hips and slid them up under the shirt, feeling the bare warm skin of her stomach and sides. My next stop normally would have been up higher to her breasts, but it was late, she probably had to get home soon, and she had made it pretty clear that what she wanted was a fuck. Her tits could wait until some other time, and wait they did. I moved my hands back down, and hooked my fingers into the stretchy waistband. I pulled them down, revealing first those tantalizing body lines that low cut jeans would show off. Those same lines drew into a rounded little pad of fat which looked as smooth as the one on the 5th grade girl asleep down the hall. This lovely mesa of girl flesh then split in two, between which sat the folded flap of skin that hid her sensitive little clit. Despite the fact that I was in full on primal urges mode, my brain was still functioning enough to realize that I hadn't peeled any panties off of Daisy; she had just been bare pussed under my now favorite pair of sweatpants. There hadn't been any panties in that pile of clothes she'd left by my bed either, and since she'd come here straight from the office, that could only mean that she'd been commando all day at work under that mini-skirt. I apparently was thinking about this a little too long, because Daisy felt the need to ask. "What's wrong, Mr. Beaumont? Is my pussy too old for you to fuck?" I looked up from her moist slit, noting that she did indeed look a little worried now, and not just for show. Her and I were never going to be the same again and she was probably wondering if this had all been a big mistake on her part. What I said next not only reassured her that I wanted this as well, but it also removed the last little part of the formal nature that we'd had since she started her internship months earlier. "Call me Alan." The look of worry melted off her face and she stepped out of the sweatpants that lay around her sockless feet. She stood her legs apart, making those juvenile looking outer lips open to show me the pink wet insides. I didn't get to look very long as she then straddled me where I sat on the couch, grabbed my cock, and directed it straight into the first pussy I'd fucked in nearly two years. We moaned in unison as our bodies pressed together. She was really pushing down on me, wiggling her hips from side to side, her heavenly pocket sucking in as much cock as I had to give her. Then, like a human milking machine, she fiercely and franticly bounced her body on my cock, gasping and squealing every time she pushed down and filled herself. I obliged her eagerness by thrusting my hips upwards as she came down. "Fuck me, fuck me, Alan," she moaned, stopping her bouncing. She pulled off of me, and lay down on the floor, spreading her legs open in invitation. I started forward to get on top of her and bury my sticky throbbing member back in that quarter sized hole of hers. I stopped though, looking at her on the floor, thinking how uncomfortable that must be, not to mention rather dirty. There was a better place in the house to do this, one with fresh clean sheets. I took her by surprise and picked her up in my arms. She didn't say anything, but the look of shock on her face was unmistakable as I headed into the hallway towards my bedroom. She looked even more surprised when I stopped short of my bedroom, and instead carried her into Trisha's room and put her down on the bed. "You...you want to fuck me here...Daddy?" she played, acting like she was my little girl. "Yes, Daisy, honey, but we have to be quiet and not wake up your little sister," I replied, referring to Trisha in the other room nearby. "Oh, okay, Daddy. Come on and fuck me. I want some cum in me!" she said, acting like a horny girl a few years younger probably would in similar circumstances. She laid back on my daughter's bed and spread her legs for me once again. I didn't stop this time and got on top of her, returning my cock to its natural environment. She squeaked and squealed as I slid inside, something she hadn't done before, and I could only assume she was imitating what she'd heard from Trisha earlier. Her legs wrapped around me, and I started to fuck her with vigor. "Is it good, honey? Does Daddy's cock feel good inside you?" I asked her, feeling a little silly, but she seemed to be getting off on the roleplaying as well. "Yes Daddy, yes! Fuck me, fuck and cum in my pussy!" I needed no encouragement, as I'd been primed to shoot since seeing her in my clothes earlier. Five seconds and two thrusts later, I was flooding Daisy's teen cunt with my sperm. She kept squeaking and moaning under me, so much that I had to wonder if she was faking it just to complete the fantasy of her being Trisha for me. That's when I felt her pussy start to shudder around me, and the cute noises she had been making were replaced with more adult like gasps, whimpers, and moans. I kept up my thrusting as much as I could after soaking her insides, but the sensitivity of my cockhead and the natural softening of my worn out organ forced me out of her creamy fucked cunt. Once we came apart, she released me from her leg hold and I was able to pull back and look at this fantasy of mine come to life. She reached down to her sloppy drooling childishly bald pussy and scooped some of our mixed cum out and dribbled it up her body before pouring the majority of it into her mouth. She looked at me and smiled. "We taste yummy together, Daddy," she said, and then did it again. I watched with erotic rapture as she cleaned herself in this fashion. Once she was confident that she wasn't going to create a puddle on the carpet, she stood up from the bed and kissed me. "Thank you for the evening, Mr. Beau--Alan. I wish I could stay and share Trisha with you, but need to be getting home." I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant by 'sharing Trisha,' but when she walked from the room, I understood what she meant. "Daddy..." moaned my little girl, leaning against the door frame for support, her panties around her ankles as she rubbed at her little slit and shuddered, cumming. Chapter 6 Daisy had already disappeared into the night by the time I'd gotten Trisha's thighs and pussy all dried off. She had frigged herself into a slumber there in the doorway as I was forced to awkwardly pick up her half-nude body while naked myself and still with sex juices all about my midsection. I had little choice but to take her back to my room and lay her on my bed, since Daisy and I had made quite the mess on Trisha's sheets. My hands trembled as I toweled off the vaginal secretions from my daughter's vulva and thighs. It really was astonishing how wet she was. Was Trisha just unique, or did all girls her age self-lubricate this much? I don't know if I can describe the mix of emotions I felt as I cared for her. There was my sense as a father that it would not do her good to sleep with damp skin in some of her more sensitive places. That compounded with my feelings as a man that were erotically charged with the sight before me and the nature of my work. After that came a sort of melancholy feeling as I realized that this was how I might have dried her off after a bath had I been in her life at all years ago. I went back to her room to fetch a dry pair of panties for her, which by my count was the fourth pair she'd worn today. The room smelled like sin, an odor of sex that was amplified by the toys, dolls, and pictures of horses on the walls. A little girl's room wasn't supposed to smell like this while looking like that. I took a look at the dark wet spot there on her little bed and I couldn't help getting hard thinking about how the same bed I had just fucked Daisy on was the same one in which my little Trisha had experienced her first orgasm, possibly within the last week. I was about to reflexively jerk off into the clean pair of panties I held in my hand, but the slight chill about my own naked genitalia reminded me that they were needed elsewhere. I returned to my room and slipped them on over her legs, and drew them up to just below her well exercised slit. As I'm sure you've noticed in my relating this tale to you, I've (almost) always treated my daughter's right to privacy and modesty with respect, and I was intent on doing so while dressing her then, but something about her caught my eye. Only two nights earlier she had come into this room, knelt on this bed, and exposed this perfectly smooth little pussy to me. Perfectly smooth. Hadn't she said something about a hair? I pulled the panties down a little more so I could have a clearer view, and I scrutinized every immature hair follicle on Trisha's textbook childish mons. There was no hair there. Not so much as a dusting of down. The little scamp had lied to me just so she could tease me with her sexy little slit and get me hard! I thought briefly about returning the favor of her grabbing my genitals, and while I was certainly lusting for her, and this was a great opportunity, there was just something wrong about the moment. With some regret, but a renewed sense of chivalry, I tugged her panties up between her legs and tucked her into my bed. If there was to be a time to familiarize myself with my daughter's intimate anatomy, it would be when she was awake and involved in the moment. I left her there and went to the bathroom where I stepped into the shower. As I waited for the water to warm up, I looked at the bathtub that doubled as the shower's basin. Trisha and Daisy had been in there together only hours earlier. I started to wonder how that came about. Had Daisy suggested it? She didn't seem the type to take advantage of a young girl, so would that mean Trisha wanted to have a look at a matured female body and invited Daisy into the bath...only again, such a scenario seemed out of character. Getting in, I couldn't shake that moment from my mind. Who touched who first? How were they seated? Was either of them shy? Nervous? Did Daisy use just her hands, or did she eat my daughter out? As you might expect, all these questions made my imagination run wild and my dick hard. Enough time had passed since fucking Daisy that I felt I could cum again, so I did. The fresh memory of being ball-deep in Daisy plus the visuals of Trisha getting herself off made short work of my freshly made sperm. It splattered and dribbled into the same tub that saw moments of youthful lust and sex play earlier in the night. With my final sex act of the night circling the drain, I washed off the remnants of my coupling with Daisy as well as the accumulated sweat from the day's work. I dried off and dressed for bed. I made a slight detour to Trisha's room first though to pull the sex soggy sheets off the bed and put them in the wash. There was no sense in leaving them there to set in the illicit stains. Finally I collapsed into bed next to my sleeping daughter, and no sooner had I kissed the back of her neck good night, had I myself fallen asleep. The last two hours of my day had been exhausting ones. *** "Daddy~...Daddy~..." sang the sweet little accented voice that I knew so well. I opened my eyes to a sunlit room and Trisha's pretty little face very close to my own. "Good morning, Daddy," she giggled and kissed me on the nose. Still a bit groggy from my deep slumber, the previous night's events didn't register immediately in my brain, prompting me to ask... "What are you doing in bed with me, honey?" Although it was common for Trisha to be awake before me, she never tasked herself with waking me herself. "I guess I slept here last night, Daddy," she answered. She seemed very cheerful about that, and as I sat up in the bed and looked at her, smiling up at me, her hair messy on the pillow about her head, it all came back to me. A heavy awkward feeling overtook me as did an excited thrill that got me hard right then and there. Trisha didn't seem at all phased by any of it and just pushed back the covers and popped out of bed and into the hall. I sat there for a moment wondering if she was going to come back in here and give me a more intimate wake-up call, but that wasn't the case as I heard the shower start up. I considered joining her in there, but given her complete lack of sexual interest this morning, I decided against it. Plus the bathroom door was locked...not that I was trying to sneak a peek at her or anything, merely curious as to if she had locked it, mind you. While she washed, I put her sheets into the dryer and made her bed with the other set of bedclothes I'd kept in case of nocturnal accidents. I'd just finished with that task when the shower shut off and she bounded into her room, towel wrapped around her wet body. "Daddy!" she squealed as soon as she saw me, and held the towel tighter to her chest and thighs. "What are you doing in here?" she asked, while noticeably switching her gaze from my face to my boxers. As you might have guessed, seeing a towel clad Trisha got a reaction from me. "I was just making your bed, honey," I said, ready to address her catching Daisy and I. Strangely though, she had another response. "Oh, I guess Daisy didn't do that after I fell asleep last night," she replied to my surprise. "Huh?" was about all the response I could muster, expecting her instead to blush and fidget at the memory of seeing me fucking her babysitter. "I was going to do it, Daddy, honest, but I was so sleepy and Daisy told me not to worry about it, that she'd do it for me, so I fell asleep on your bed instead." Yet another part of last night's activities was filled in for me by that statement, as Trisha's bed had indeed been made by the time I got home...but what about the more memorable part of the night? Surely she remembered that, didn't she? "I see...so you went to bed pretty early then?" "Yes, Daddy, right after my bath," she answered, looking a little uneasy about telling me details about her evening with Daisy. "Daddy, can I get dressed now?" "Sure, sweetheart," I said, and left the bed unmade. Walking past her, I could feel her eyes heavy on my male region. It only now struck me as odd that she'd just taken a shower when only the night before she'd had a bath. I stopped at her doorway and looked back at her. She looked up to my eyes, and tried to withhold the sly smile that curved her mouth. "Silly, Daddy. No peeking!" she exclaimed and gave my butt the shove it needed to get out of her room. As soon as her door closed I wished she was as immodest as she had been just a few days ago. That was when I heard my alarm clock go off at its usual time. I had to be at work in an hour. Chapter 7 As you might expect, my reunion at work with Daisy the day after was an awkward one...though only for me, oddly. While I tried not to be too obvious in my newly assumed role as her mate, she acted as though nothing had changed at all between us. With her unchanged attitude, and Trisha's lack of comment or really any kind of memory about the end of last night, I was starting to wonder if I had made it all up in my head. Thankfully a folded note tossed onto my desk as Daisy passed by assured me that I was not going crazy. Feeling like a teenage boy in high school again, I unfolded the note whilst glancing around to see if anybody was watching me. There were two words written in that lovely teenage girl handwriting: Lunch. Stockroom. All three 'o's in 'stockroom' were drawn as little hearts. Were I not a nearly 40-year old man, I would have swooned right then and there like a lovestruck boy. Instead I just got an erection that would not subside the rest of the morning. Thankfully, this promise of a noon-time quickie in the back of the office kept me distracted enough that I was able to convincingly back out of heading out to lunch with my co-workers. By 12:05 there were only six people left in the building, two of which manned the phones for the entire hour, two others with a mountain of work, and the last two a chance to vanish into the stockroom together for a few moments. Indeed, moments were all we needed, as no sooner had I gotten inside were my pants down and my thick pole surrounded by Daisy's wondrous cunt. "Oh god...fuck me, Alan," she moaned as I pushed into her from behind. As she had dressed yesterday, and for that matter nearly every day at work, she was wearing a knee-length skirt, which was now hitched up onto her back as she bent over the small table. "I dreamed about you, Alan...you and Trisha...I wanted to see how you used her after I left last night..." Of course, I hadn't, but Daisy didn't know that yet. "Did you shoot your daddy cum up in her wet slit? I want to slurp it out of her so badly..." If Daisy was trying to get me off, it was working, as with a groan I buried my length inside of her and expelled my seed into her for the second time in 12 hours. She bucked her ass into me a few times, as she looked over her shoulder with a grin on her face, her tight tunnel milking me for all I had to give her. Although I was certain she was satisfied just by making me cum in her, I wasn't quite so and reached under her to rub her clit. Her reaction was instant, and I knew she had been close to orgasm herself just from anticipation of our screwing like this. Once I was satisfied that she had gotten hers as well, I slid my still firm cock from her petite snatch and watched with some amusement as it dripped into a little white pool on the floor. She turned around and grinned wickedly at me as she reached for her purse that I hadn't noticed was in the room with us, and produced a few tissues, which she mopped against her drooling hole. "Good thing there's a tile floor in here," she commented as she pulled up her panties and retrieved a small towel from her purse as well. She dropped to her knees, and with one hand held and sucked my dick clean while she wiped up the sex puddle with the towel in the other hand. In all I don't think my pants were down more than five minutes before she was zipping them up for me. I was about to open my mouth when she put her finger to it. "Sandwich shop down the street, five minutes," she told me, kissed me, and left. For a 17-year old girl, she was acting quite the professional at this. After waiting the five minutes she had suggested, I went in pursuit of my secret new lover. She was seated at a booth inside the restaurant, looking not at all like she'd just gotten her illegal twat filled five minutes earlier. She waved and smiled at me and waited as I ordered before sitting down with her. "So," she started, trying not to look too lustfully at me, "how much fun did I miss last night?" Now it was my turn to smile, which she naturally mistook for one of a father who had deflowered his daughter. "Not a thing," I answered and tried not to laugh at the look of shock on her face. "No way!" she almost shouted, making a few people look our way. "When I left you were...and she saw...she was...nothing?" she asked again, as I shook my head chuckling. "She was out like a light as soon as she was done, and I'm not the kind of guy that would force that kind of thing on somebody when they're asleep." "Wow...I would have spent the night had I known that," she said, then falling silent a moment as her food was brought out to her. "So what about this morning? Did you say or try anything?" "No," I said, pausing a moment as well as my food was placed in front of me. "Actually, she didn't seem to remember anything after she fell asleep after the bath. She's a pretty heavy sleeper, so it's sort of a surprise she woke up at all while we were...you know." "Huh. Well, I guess I'll have to ask her about it on Saturday then," Daisy said before taking a bite of her sandwich. "Saturday?" I asked, not aware plans had been made. "I'm taking her shopping. Girl stuff. No boys allowed," she informed me, sticking her tongue out at the end. "Will I be allowed at some point afterwards then?" I asked jokingly. "God yes, you think I'm going to just buy her stuff for free?" Daisy said, winking at me. "Both of you are going to be paying me back...maybe even at the same time if you want." While it was certainly an enticing mental image, that offer gave me pause. I had no doubt that Daisy could make it happen, but I didn't want to be pushing Trisha into anything she wasn't ready for. Daisy saw this hesitation on my face. "It's not like you'll be hurting her, you know," she told me. "She thinks about you that way. You are literally her first time fantasy." "Oh, I get that...it's just...I need to hear this from her," I answered. "I don't doubt that she told you the truth and that she'd let me do it willingly, but as her father I need to be sure personally that this is what she wants without being pressured into it." "You want to make sure it's a special thing for her, don't you?" she added, understanding what I was getting at. "Yeah, I mean, so many girls just a little older than her are doing it with boys who just want to brag that they stuck it in. I guess I want to make sure she doesn't feel used like that just to satisfy my desires." "You mean like how you made sure I got off just now in the storeroom?" Daisy charged with a smile. Before I could respond to that, she continued. "I'm kidding. You're a sweet guy, Alan; worrying about the enjoyment that others are getting. I was satisfied just feeling you inside of me, but I'm glad to see that you want her first time to be a special moment for her. That kind of thing is extremely important for us girls, you know." She smiled a little wistfully at whatever memory that statement carried for her, and then gave me that devilish naughty grin of hers. "But after that, we just like getting fucked!" For the most part, since we started having this rather public discussion about the prospect of me committing incest, we kept our voices down and to ourselves, but we definitely earned a few stares from the other customers with Daisy's rather crude (but honest) declaration. While I was certainly embarrassed, she didn't show if she was at all. "Well, I think we should head back to the office, Alan. Maybe we can talk more about this later," she said with a wink, wrapping her sandwich up to go, and leaving me there with a half-dozen pairs of eyes directed at me. Either they thought I was a damn dirty pervert taking advantage of a teen, or lucky to have such a hot young girl eagerly teasing me with the way she talked. I felt quite the mix of both as I slouched down a little and ate the rest of my lunch. Chapter 8 The rest of the work day slogged on past me. Daisy was back to her normal self in our vocational interactions. Every time I saw her, I couldn't help thinking about the deposit of sperm I'd left inside her during lunch. Apparently the way I looked at her made her think about it as well, since she would frequently meet my gaze, only to then look away with a little blush. As usual I left about 5:30, while she was to stay until about 6, so there was little chance of another rendezvous before the end of the day. I did however find a present waiting for me in my car. Laying on the driver's seat, apparently thrown in through the small gap I'd left in the window so my car didn't heat up like an oven, were a crumpled pair of light blue panties. Admittedly, I didn't pay much attention to Daisy's panties while my cock was in her, but I had little doubt these had been hers. The damp crotch kinda gave it away too. I got home to find Trisha was her normal sweet self, and no mysterious washings of the bed sheets had taken place. Apparently she had learned how not to leave evidence that she played with herself. Curiously though there were two towels in her hamper as I passed by her room. She'd showered this morning, so the other one came from where? I let her secret remain unquestioned, and just reminded myself that it was better with her masturbating to visions of her dear old dad than experimenting with boys. It was my turn to make dinner tonight, so I set to work cooking a pair of chicken breasts, rice, and green beans while she giggled at cartoons on the couch. As I did this, the phone rang. Quite unusually, Trisha hopped off the couch and rushed to the phone before it could finish the second ring. "Hello? ... Hi, Daisy!" she chirped. This caught my attention of course, but Trisha just scurried off with the phone down the hall and I heard her door close. There she stayed for the next 15 minutes until I called her out to eat. I noted a slight rosiness in her cheeks as she placed the phone back in the charging cradle and sat down to eat. "Ahem," I cleared my throat, getting a sheepish look from her. "That was Daisy on the phone, Daddy," she said, thinking that was what I wanted to hear. "She wanted to talk a bit." "And?" I prompted, not ready to show my hand just yet. She looked away from me, fidgeting a bit. "Private things, Daddy, I can't tell you..." she answered, looking up to see if that satisfied me. "Aren't you forgetting something? Before you sat down here perhaps?" This was a little cruel of me, I know, but I was also curious about what she might reveal. "I don't know...what you might mean, Daddy..." "Your hands honey..." this bit of prodding got a look of shock from her at first, the kind that said 'I've been caught!' She put it all together though, and nervously giggled as she got up from her seat. "Right...I didn't wash my hands before dinner, I'm sorry Daddy," she said before sprinting to the sink, an embarrassed mess. I waited for her to come back and we started eating...or at least I did. She sat quietly after taking a portion of the food, just looking at it. "Are you feeling okay, Trish?" I asked her. She glanced up at me, and then back down to her food. "Well...yesterday..." she started, certainly getting my attention. "You said you wanted to talk to me about...you know...remember?" I had completely forgotten. "Right...you want to have that talk now?" I asked her, sort of surprised she was even bringing it up. "I have a few questions, Daddy..." she said, her voice getting quiet. "Sure. Ask away," I consented to her wish, maybe a little too eagerly. "Um, well..." she struggled with her inhibition. I found it interesting how just a few days ago she was giving me teases with her naked body, yet now it was an embarrassing thing to her. I could only assume that was because at first it had just been all in good fun with no real consequences attached, but now there was the possibility that something more serious and life changing might follow it. "When I, um, was on you, Daddy...and your willy...touched me..." she pointed to her hip about where the contact had been made. "It got sticky stuff on me." Holy shit...she was right. So much had happened in those few moments, that the fact that I'd inadvertently rubbed some cum on her body just completely slipped my mind. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to do that," I apologized. I admit, it felt very strange to be apologizing for something like that to your own daughter. "It's okay...were you...um, touching yourself, Daddy?" she asked, not even looking up. "Yes, I was." That made her look up at me, her eyes just a little wider than before. I could see she was trying not to grin as she giggled to herself. "Oh wow...so, uh...you get sticky too when you do that?" I could see now she was finding a commonality between male and female masturbation, one that perhaps she had never considered before. "Well, it's a little different for boys than it is for girls, honey," I replied, pausing to see if she wanted more information. "Oh," was all she said, becoming thoughtfully silent, maybe even a little disappointed that she'd gotten something wrong. "So...did you...before I came in...were you done?" "Yes, sweetheart. I had an orgasm before you came in the room." I offered a bit more there than she'd necessarily asked me for, and the way she looked at me with something of a shock, and then a shifting and wriggling of her body in her seat gave me a whole paragraph of body language. "So your, um...willy...it gets sticky when you cu-...I mean, or-organasm?" I couldn't help cracking a grin as she almost used a word I was sure she'd heard from Daisy the night before, and then stumbled over the proper word she corrected herself with. "When a man, orgasms, honey, semen comes out of his penis, from the same hole that we pee from. There's a lot of it, in fact, it squirts out." I could see her cheeks getting redder with every word I spoke. I would have loved to had her imagination playing out for me on a TV screen. "W-why?! I mean...where...where does it go?" she asked, maybe more terrified of the answer than actually curious. I was sure she'd gotten the penis-goes-in-the-vagina talk from Daisy last night, if not from her mother some years ago. It was only now that she'd actually seen a penis in it's erect state, and she was trying to picture it entering her body's much smaller opening. "The penis goes into the vagina, you know what that is, I hope," I said, pausing for her to bashfully nod yes, "and the semen is squirted into it. That is how babies are made." "B-but not always!" she blurted out, and then calmed down a bit as she felt a little more courage, perhaps thinking she could teach me something here. "M-Mummy told me, that when a girl got old enough to grow boobies, and hair on her fanny, that she would start to bleed a little from there...that meant she could make babies." "That's absolutely, right honey," I confirmed for her. "Probably in a few years or sooner you'll start doing that too." "Yeah, I know...I kinda talked about some girl things with Daisy last night, Daddy." Finally, her first admission that any sort of sexual discussion took place the night before. "That's okay, right, Daddy? I can talk to Daisy about those things, right?" "Yes, sweetheart, that's absolutely fine. I think Daisy would be a great person for you to learn some things about being a young woman from." Trisha was smiling from ear to ear when I gave her my blessing to learn more from Daisy. "Would it be okay if Daisy bought me some things too? She sorta offered to buy me a bra this weekend...maybe some pretty knickers too..." There was so much hope and eagerness in her eyes, that even if I had been opposed to such an outing, I couldn't have turned her down. "You may go," which was enough to have Trisha up out of her chair and running around the table to throw her arms around my neck, "but..." and that got her pulling back with a bit of confusion. "But you will not take advantage of Daisy's kindness, okay? I will give you money, and you will pay for them, not Daisy." She vigorously nodded her head yes to this arrangement. "Of course, Daddy," she agreed quite readily. "And just this first time is a gift from me to you. If you want to buy any more, you'll need to save your money up to buy them. Being responsible for that is also part of being a young woman." "Yes, Daddy, I understand," she said, trying to keep from bouncing up and down from excitement. I could see a thought enter her mind as she paused, staring off at nothing in particular. "Where will I get my money from, Daddy? Do I have to get a job like you and Daisy?" I had to laugh because of how distraught she'd sounded saying the word 'job.' "No, honey, I'm going to give you an allowance every week. You already do so much around the house, that I think you'll earn it very easily. In fact, just to be fair, I'll start off by giving you $100 for everything you've been doing up until now for free, okay?" "ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS! THAT'S FANTASTIC!" she squealed. "How much will my allowance be?!" "I'll give you $1 for each chore you do. When you do the laundry, that's $1. When you cook dinner, that's another dollar. You'll probably be making about $15 a month that way. Maybe we can come up with some other things you can do too for some money." I know what you're thinking, and no, that was not what I had in mind when I told her that, but believe me, the thought had crossed my mind. "Okay! Okay Daddy, okay!" she twittered happily, kissing my cheek and hugging me again. "Thank you, Daddy," she said, looking into my eyes, her own twinkling with love. For the briefest of moments, I wanted to press my own lips to hers, and I got the feeling that she wanted to do the same. Our birds-and-the-bees talk had been forgotten in the excitement of her allowance being decided upon, but with our bodies pressed up close like this, and the hormonal rushes of adolescence perhaps enhancing her love for me at that very moment, there was very suddenly sexual tension between us. I knew I wasn't the only one of us that felt it, because she did move her face closer to mine, her lips on an invisible track to meet mine. Whatever series of events that might have been sparked by a kiss at this moment were put on ice when next I spoke. "Your dinner is getting cold, honey." Trisha stopped. Had she been any closer, my lips would have brushed on her own when I moved them to speak. She pulled back, smiling shyly, and turned away from me to return to her seat. I don't think I'd ever felt so much regret in my life than I did at that moment. I had taken in the sight of her young body many times over the past few days, but this time felt so much different. I noticed for the first time the sway of her hips, the bounce of her hair, the way her body flexed and compressed as she took each step. Her profile in that instant especially caught my eye, not because of the subtle peaks emerging from her chest, but because of the memories it returned to me. She was every inch her mother's daughter, and I was reminded of all the reasons I had gone to bed with that beautiful woman over a decade and half a world ago. Trisha had been born with those eyes and that smile...a virtual cloning of the same pair of lips that had eagerly surrounded my cock both before and after we had unknowingly conceived the child that was now seated across the dinner table from me, grinning like a fool as she devoured her food. I must have stared and spent a little too much time watching her and reminiscing about such things, because it prompted her to speak. "What's wrong, Daddy? Are you not hungry?" Trisha was looking at me, scrutinizing my sudden lack of appetite. The eyes now took on the resemblance of her mother's, the same wary questioning gaze that I had been greeted with when I had offered to buy her a drink in that pub. "No, it's nothing, sweetheart...I was just thinking...you look so much like your mom." We didn't discuss her mother much. Trisha usually did her best to change the subject if I tried to ask about her, but that comment from me really made her beam. "Thank you, Daddy...Mummy was very beautiful, wasn't she?" "Yes, honey, she was. I wish I'd known her more." That really put a shy blush on Trisha's face. I suppose she'd always known that she was the product of a one-night stand, but it wasn't really until these last few days that she came to understand what exactly took place during that encounter. "You'd really like her, Daddy..." I couldn't argue with that, since many years ago, for about five hours, I most certainly did. Chapter 9 Had this been like any other night during the previous two years, I'd probably have been jerking off before bed, but since I'd been given a presumably endless invitation for sex from Daisy, I chose to read a book this evening instead. My mind wasn't really on the words on the page, though. Instead I was busy thinking about Trisha, naturally. Ever since dinner as I had watched her eat like I was some kind of a love struck school boy, I had been wondering if I was exactly that, love struck. I supposed that as my daughter, I did indeed love her, but for a long time it had felt like a kind of forced love. After all, I had been a 35-year old bachelor when Trisha came into my life. It was a rather sudden transition from going out drinking with my buddies after work to coming home to make dinner for a little girl. I know that first night she was under my roof, I said those three words to her, 'I love you,' but that's what I was supposed to say, right? It felt stiff and fake as I just sort of put them out there after tucking her in to my bed and then I went and slept on the couch. I knew she was scared, I knew she was alone, and completely unsure of who this man was that had taken her into his home. Hell, I felt pretty much the same on all of those counts. I didn't know the first thing about raising a pre-adolescent daughter. I might have had some inkling of what should be done if I'd been around her for a few years, but suddenly, there she was. It was only several months later that I really grew into my new role as a father. Bit by bit, the way she said 'Daddy' became softer and fuller of life, and in a similar fashion the way I said 'I love you' did as well. Still, there was a feeling that it was by rote, and not by emotion. It probably wasn't until a full year had passed that it all felt normal to me. In much the same way expectant parents had nine months to grow used to the idea of caring for a new life, it took a kind of pregnancy period for me to become a father that Trisha could depend on. A span of time in which thunderstorms, bee stings, wet beds, and squished spiders strengthened the bonds of our awkward little family. Now it was changing all over again. As I had said, I felt like a love struck schoolboy, and like every schoolboy, that love was initiated by physical lust. Those little budding breasts and that bald baby smooth slit she showed off, had driven me to masturbating into her panties. There was no love in that act, just as there had been no love the night I had spent with Trisha's mother or those two times I fucked Daisy. Under different circumstances I could have grown to love her mother, and I may still grow to love Daisy, but with those two, just as with the other half-dozen women I'd bedded in my life, there was never any real love. It was all lust up until now. Now I had a blooming young woman in my home, somebody who I cared for as dearly as I cared for my own mother, who was lusting for me, and I was absolutely hesitant to touch her until she requested it of me directly. I had every opportunity last night to molest her sleeping body, and indeed I took great care in wiping the vaginal fluids from her thighs and vulva, but that wasn't a sexual act to me. In those moments when I dried her, those folds of flesh weren't just another pussy for me to assert my masculinity over, but the private, intimate, body parts of my own daughter. Yes I had brief fantasies of penetrating into them, but I could never fully separate those thoughts with the reality that some day my grandchildren would pass back through them. It was considering this sort of thing that gave me peace of mind about my own intentions. No matter how sexy she grew up to be, no matter how much she flirted or provoked me as she'd done already this week, my lust for her would always be trumped by my duty, love, and respect for her as her father. Be it tomorrow with me, in the next few years with some boy, or her wedding night with her husband, the decision to lose her virginity was Trisha's alone, and that was something that I felt committed to accepting without jealousy, disappointment, or pressure. "Daddy?" I looked up from the book that I was barely reading and saw Trisha standing there in the doorway in her usual nighttime attire. She had a troubled look on her face. "C-can I ask you about something?" "Sure, sweetheart. C'mon up here," I said patting the bed. I could see her looking at my midsection, no doubt wondering if I was nakedly post-orgasmic again tonight. She kept up this scrutinizing look as she hopped up beside me, again, as days before, her shirt hung down as she crawled towards me, affording me a look at her little pink peaks. "Um, well...you know, how you said you did that or-org-orgasm thing after you, uh, played with your willy?" I was pretty impressed without how she just came out and asked me with less hesitation than earlier at dinner, and with quite a bit of eye contact as well. "Yes..." I answered her, prodding her forward with the inflection in my voice. "Uh, well, I...the other night," she sputtered, visibly shrinking back from her boldness seconds ago. The very personal nature of what she was about to say, was highly apparent. "...I...is it okay...if I...I tried..." Her hands were wringing about nervously in her lap and her voice was getting progressively smaller as she looked for the courage to say something to me. I took her hand in mine, making her jolt with a bit of surprise as she nearly drew back in nervous panic, but she could see I was only trying to comfort her. "I'm really nervous Daddy...it's almost too embarrassing to say..." "It's okay, sweetheart," I assured her, noticing just how sweaty her hand was in mine. "Nothing you say will make me think you're bad or naughty or make me want to tease you. Just calm down, take a deep breath, and tell me what has you so worked up." She looked up at me, and I touched my hand to her cheek, feeling how hot she'd gotten. "I t-t-touched myself..." and with just that I could see some of that tension melt out of her, though her hand clenched mine more tightly. "...b-but, I d-didn't do that o-orgasm thing like you said..." Well I already knew that she indeed had, because I saw it with my own eyes last night, and Daisy had testified to witnessing many others. Maybe she didn't want to admit that too...or, maybe, she didn't know that's what she had done. "I see..." I said, admittedly a little lost on where to go from here. "Well, it's um, it's really normal for a girl your age to masturbate," and I saw the question on her face when I spoke the m-word. "That's what it's called when somebody plays with them self, you masturbated." I paused for a moment to let her think about that word. "And when a girl as young as you masturbates, it might feel really good, but you might not have an orgasm yet." "O-oh...w-what about c-c-cum?" I shot her an eyebrow as she used the grown up term, and she wiggled about in place, fidgeting as she felt trapped by knowing she'd have to reveal some of her fun with Daisy to explain how she knew that word. "Where did you learn that word?" I asked her. "D-Daisy, Daddy..." I appreciated her honesty, but I knew she wouldn't spill the beans if she could get out of it, and I kind of wanted to let her keep her secret. "Daisy told me, honey," and I saw her eyes squeeze shut while wishing herself invisible, "that you asked her a few things about growing up, including some private things that she wouldn't share with me. Is that how you learned that word?" She looked up at me with a flush of relief, nodding vigorously to agree with my version of events. "Y-yes, Daddy...she told me that w-when I got w-w-wet and felt really nice...I came and made girl cum..." I was getting a better idea now of what confusions she had in her head. "You know how 'willy' and 'fanny' are silly words for private parts?" I asked her, which got a nod in agreement. "Okay, well 'cum' is a silly word like those two, but it can mean different things at the same time." Her furrowed brow begged for explanation. "'Cum' is a grown-up silly word, and we use it to mean both orgasm, and the liquids that come out of our bodies during sex." "So...you mean that my wet fanny stuff is called cum...just like your sticky willy sperm stuff is called cum too?" "That's right." "And if I...came? That means I...made wet stuff?" she asked, stitching the concepts together, if perhaps a bit unevenly. "No, sweetheart, that means you had an orgasm." She looked at me with some surprise when I told her that. "B-but, Daddy...I didn't squirt like you do...I just got really wet in my fanny." "That's because you're a girl, honey. Boys squirt sperm out of their penis, girls don't squirt when they orgasm." Not exactly true, I know, but it wasn't anything she needed to know or be confused about. "So...why do I make all that wet stuff then?" she asked me, genuinely puzzled. "That's to make sex easier and feel better. If your vagina didn't get wet, it would hurt a lot for a penis to go inside it." "It's really messy," she pouted a bit, without quite realizing she'd referenced one of her secrets this week. "Kind of like spilling water on your bed," I offered to her as analogy, which she half-nodded in agreement with before catching that I was using her own explanation for the need to wash my sheets. The comfortable mood she'd gotten into with this sex-ed discussion, turned into some embarrassment and she hung her head. "I'm sorry, Daddy." "It's okay, honey. You cleaned up after yourself, and I'm not mad. You've gotten very responsible lately." That seemed to encourage her to resume eye contact with me. "But I didn't tell you the truth about it." "It's okay, sweetheart. I know it was probably very embarrassing for you, and you didn't want to tell me about it because you thought I would punish you." "I didn't like when you yelled at me that night...I was scared you'd yell at me again for doing naughty things with my fanny." The old specter of genital shame was rearing its head. "Trisha, there is nothing wrong with masturbating, okay? I do it, you do it, your mom probably did it, I'm sure Daisy does it...pretty much everybody does it, okay? But it's a private thing, like going to the bathroom, and can make people uncomfortable to talk about. Places on your body, like your fanny and your breasts are not bad places, but they too can make people uncomfortable when they see them suddenly or without asking. They're private places, just like my penis, and that's what made me upset. You grabbed that part of me without permission. You wouldn't like it if I started touching you in your private places if I didn't have permission, would you?" "No," she sighed, perhaps thinking that's exactly what she wouldn't mind if I was doing to her. "So you understand now. I wasn't angry that you showed me your new breasts the night before, and I wasn't angry that you showed me your fanny the next night, but when you started trying to feel my private parts without my consent, that is what made me angry, and I'm sorry that I yelled at you." "Okay." "I love you, sweetheart, and I think every part of you is beautiful and you should not be ashamed of it, but especially now that you're turning into a woman, you should be aware that your body can make grown men like me think and want to do bad things to you, so be mindful of your actions." That got a big grin on her face. "You mean I got your willy hard by showing you my fanny and my boobies, don't you?" I couldn't deny it. She had felt it herself after all. "Yes, sweetheart. I got an erection looking at your naked private places, but it's not nice to tease boys or men like that. They might get the wrong idea and hurt you or touch you without your permission." "That's called rape, isn't it Daddy?" I had to raise an eyebrow there. "Yes it is, how do you know what rape is?" That made her withdraw a little. "Trisha, did somebody try to do something with you?" "No, Daddy...I heard Mummy say it once, and I asked her what it meant. She said it was when a bad person touches your privates and it hurts a lot and makes you sad." I got the feeling there was more to the anecdote than that, but I saw Trisha yawn, and glanced at the clock, 12:30. "I think you should get to bed, honey. You've got a big day with Daisy tomorrow." "Okay, Daddy," she said, leaning over atop me to give me a hug and kissing my cheek. I couldn't help noticing there was a much softer feel to her chest as she pushed her baby breasts against my body. I rubbed her back thinking that this might be one of the last times I don't feel a strap across it. She sat up, and with a sort of crooked smile looked at me. "Uh, Daddy...would it be okay if I put a towel under me...so I don't mess my bed like before?" Her cheeks were a nice rosy color, as she studied the designs on my wooden headboard to avoid looking at me. "Sure, sweetheart, that's fine." "Okay, thanks Daddy, g'night!" she chirped and beat a hasty retreat out of the room. I could tell by the creak of the floorboards that she had gone past her bedroom door to the bathroom, and another creak shortly after that signaled that she had passed over the spot again, followed by the sound of her door closing. I suppose I felt somewhat proud of myself, getting her able to feel comfortable in asking and confiding in me some personal secrets. I had half a mind to get up and go listen in at her door, but just the knowledge enough that my little girl was happily, healthily, and hygienically enjoying her body and its ability to produce pleasure was enough to induce an erection. As it turned out I didn't have to go listen at her door anyways. Within 10 minutes a faint squealing moan found its way to my ears, and assisted in my own blissful climax. Chapter 10 "Daddywakeup!" was the phrase that cruelly dragged me out of my slumber, and was immediately followed by 65 lbs of little girl leaping atop me. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the grinning proto-nymphet straddling my body, already dressed and had perhaps too much make-up on her face. "Wha--what time is it, honey?" I asked her groggily. "Eight-thirty Daddy! Daisy will be here in a half an hour!" she said, bouncing lightly on my stomach. "Getup getup getup!" she chanted, her enthusiasm adding a slight thrusting motion to her hips which she was entirely unaware of what that sight evoked in me. "Okay, okay," I said, rolling onto my side again, making her fall giggling onto the bed next to me. I half-pretended to fall back asleep, producing an annoyed whine from her lips, which started kissing my nose, cheek, and forehead. "Get up Daddy, or I'll keep doing this!" she threatened. "You promise?" I asked her with a smile on my face. "Daddyyyy...c'mon! If you're not up in five minutes, I won't show you the pretty things I buy today." Now that was a threat, and one she felt pretty certain would get me up...er, wake me up. "Fine--" "Yay! I'll go start breakfast!" she interrupted me, and then rushed out of the room. The kid-on-Christmas-morning-like adrenaline rush was surging through her today. I sat up and stretched before swinging my legs out of bed. I put on my comfortable house pants, and could smell the little breakfast sausages cooking as I made my way to the bathroom. Trisha was certainly going all out today. My bladder having been emptied, I came out to the dining area. Trisha was standing on her little step stool in front of the stove, mixing up some pancake batter in her little apron. I couldn't help thinking what an awesome wife she would make for a lucky guy some day as I took my seat at the table and watched her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw at me watching her. "What are you looking at, Daddy?" she asked me, bemused by my attention. "Nothing honey...just you...you look like a little wife." "D-Daddy!" she blushed, flustered at the suggestion. I started to get up from my seat. "Do you need something, Daddy?" she asked. "I was just going to get the newspaper, honey," I told her. She hopped down from the stool and came over to me, putting her hands on my arm, and gently pushing me back into my seat. "I'll get it for you Daddy," she said, and not taking no for an answer, she hustled her cute butt to the front door. I certainly didn't mind the pampering attentiveness she was showing me, but I wondered why it was being shown. In to time at all, she was back, delivering the paper onto the table in front of me, and got right back up on the step stool, pouring the pancake batter onto the griddle. I watched with amusement as she flitted about the kitchen like a humming bird, setting the table, pouring me some coffee she'd apparently brewed shortly after getting up, flipping the pancakes, serving the sausages and my pancakes, and then cooking some for herself. She sighed as she sat down, finally getting a moment's rest after 10 minutes of straight work. I'd just finished my pancakes as she was digging in, and she glared at me as I speared and ate little sausage after little sausage. "Daddy, you're eating them all!" she pouted in protest. "Leave some for me!" and she speared three at once with her fork, popping the one on the end into her mouth with a grin of accomplishment. "Careful, princess," I said teasingly, "eat too much and you won't fit in everything you buy today." That certainly got an annoyed reaction from her. She was a very fit young lady, and she knew it. Weight was, for now anyways, an okay subject to joke about. "Shush Daddy, I'm growing and need to eat!" she retorted with a haughty air about her, and pushed out her chest to emphasize her area of recent growth. She only held that pose for a moment before seeing my grin and dissolving into giggles herself. I occupied myself with the paper and my coffee as she ate, and with almost perfect timing, the doorbell rang as Trisha was setting her dish in the sink. She shrieked with excitement and ran to the door, opening it before I could even stand up. The door swung open, and there was Daisy, dressed now in more casual clothes, looking every bit like the teenage girl that she was, in contrast to her mature look at the office. Accompanying her was a younger girl, older than Trisha though, but resembling Daisy quite a bit. "Hi, we're here!" sang Daisy, with the girl echoing her greeting a fraction of a second behind. "Come in," I said, getting up to greet them. They came in, and I could see Trisha looked conflicted a little. She had been so hyper before, that I was certain she was going to pounce on Daisy like she had done to me this morning already, but with this additional guest, she seemed restrained. "Alan, Trisha, this is my little sister, Krista," Daisy said, introducing us all. "Hello," Krista said, offering Trisha her hand, which was accepted with slight trepidation...jealousy maybe? "Hi," Trisha said, a little muted. I stepped forward and offered my own hand to the girl. "Pleased to meet you, Krista," I said. I noticed a rather large smile on her face as she shook my hand, maybe even a twinkle of mischief like her big sister had been displaying to me the last two days. "Me too, Mr. Beaumont," she said, then turned to Trisha. "Can I see your room?" she asked my daughter, who looked at Daisy and me for a moment, before answering. "Okay,. It's this way," she said, and led the way for Krista to follow. Once they had gotten out of sight, Daisy threw her arms around my neck and pressed her lips up to me. "So, anything happen with you two yet?" she asked me, hungry for details. Too bad for her there were none. "Hate to disappoint," I told her, which made her brow furrow. "Jeez, I encouraged her and everything on the phone yesterday too. You shoulda heard her breathing into the phone as I described all the fun you and I had earlier at work!" I jerked my head back from her and stared at her like she was crazy. "Y-y-you what?!" I asked her, completely astonished. Daisy just laughed. "I'm kidding, just kidding. You should have seen your face just now. I couldn't resist." I sighed in some relief, the last thing I needed this week was Trisha finding out that I was screwing her babysitter and new best friend in the supply room at work. "I did learn something from her though. She told me that Thursday night she had a dream where you and I were naked and rubbing on each other. A dream! Can you believe that?" Well, that explained her apparent lack of memory the day after. "I can understand it. Seeing something like that, just after waking up and then falling asleep immediately after, thinking it was all made up. She's still just a little girl, Daisy," I offered as an explanation. "Yeah, a little girl that is just aching to get stuffed with her daddy's meat. I'm telling you, she's ready and willing." "Yeah, well, she needs to tell me that." Daisy sighed at my resistance. "Fine...I guess you'll just have to use me for sex a little longer then," she lamented, though sounding completely unconvincing about it. "I guess we should get this show on the road before Krista convinces Trisha to lay in bed all day with her legs spread. The girl's got a magic little mouth on her," Daisy revealed to me with a wink. I could only chuckle. These Barton girls had something special in their gene pool. "C'mon, ladies, let's move it," Daisy called out. It was a minute or two before we heard Trisha's door latch, during which Daisy was groping my cock through my pants. She promptly stopped though, and appearances were kept. There was a smirk on Krista's face, and a bit of a flush on Trisha's when she looked at me, though the excess make-up she had been wearing earlier was now gone, and she looked more like a cute tween now than an aspiring hooker. "D-Daddy, can I have some money now?" she asked me, pushing aside whatever had just transpired between her and Krista moments ago and getting down to the business at hand. I retrieved my wallet and checkbook. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to write a check to Daisy for $150, okay? That's the $100 we talked about last night, and another $50 for my present to you today. She'll cash it and give you the money, and I don't want to hear about you begging her for anything out of her own pocket, got it?" "Yes, Daddy," Trisha agreed readily. I cut the check and handed it, plus $25 in cash to Daisy. "That's for gas and lunch for you three. Don't let her talk you into anything you can't afford, no matter how cute she makes herself," I advised Daisy, which prompted a chagrined Trisha to hit my arm. "Daddyyy, stop it!" she whined. "Don't worry, Alan. I think we'll have a great time today," Daisy assured me, though the way she looked at me while she said it made me wonder if 'we' referred to the three of them, or her and I alone...but where might such an opportunity present itself? I mulled that over as I kissed Trisha's cheek and watched the three of them head out the door. Daisy apparently wanted just a tad more alone time with me as well, since she lagged behind. "See you later?" I asked her. "Fuck yeah," she replied with a grin, and hurried to her car. I watched them drive off, and closed the door, alone in my house for the first time in two years. Waiting the next couple of hours for them to come back was going to drive me crazy. *** The first phone call was at 10:30, wherein Trisha was excitedly gushing to me over the phone that she had measured as a 30AA and was now the proud owner, and wearer, of a training bra. The next phone call was at noon. My daughter, who had never worn anything but a one-piece since she'd first stepped in the Australian surf, excitedly told me that she had just purchased a bikini. Daisy assured me that it was quite appropriate in appearance for a girl her age. Another call came in at 3. They'd just left a beauty salon and were headed to a movie. I couldn't get any details about what kind of little movie star I'd be welcoming home tonight, but in Krista's words, Trisha was a "total knock-out." Finally, 5:30, Daisy called to say they were on their way home, but had one more stop to make. She wouldn't elaborate at all, but did ask if I had eaten yet. Aside from a light snack an hour earlier, she had nothing to worry about there. From that point on, I was pacing back and forth, stomach complaining the whole time. The sound of an engine in the driveway made it growl the loudest, as I was certain they had brought dinner. Hurried footsteps up to the door and I got my first look at Trisha, the young woman of the day. The smile on her face was something that no amount of money could buy. Her normally plain long hair had been cut to her shoulders and curled into several little ringlets. Her skin glowed from the salon treatments it had received, and as she handed me a pair of Chinese food boxes, I saw too that her nails had been painted and manicured. Once her hands were free, she pulled up her shirt and very happily displayed for me the very plain, but adorable little bra she had chosen as her first. "I got 5 more!" she enthused, before pulling her shirt down and running back out to the car to gather her bags while Daisy and Krista brought in the rest of our Chinese feast. For the next hour we ate and laughed together, filling the house for the first time since Trisha came to live with me with some kind of noise that wasn't created by a TV set. I was filled by a sense that tonight was one that neither Trisha nor I wanted to end early. Chapter 11 After we'd finished eating, Daisy and Krista bid us goodbye and left for home, leaving just Trisha and I alone in the house after a busy day without each other's company. While I cleared the table and tended to the dishes, Trisha disappeared into her room with the multitude of bags she'd brought home. My work in the kitchen was finished quickly and I headed back to my bedroom to straighten up in anticipation of a visit from Daisy later after Trisha had gone to bed. I had just finished making the bed when I heard a noise behind me. I turned and there was Trisha in the doorway. "Um, Daddy...do you wanna...see?" "See? See what, honey?" "My uh...my bra..." "You showed it to me when you got home, remember?" I reminded her. "Y-yeah, but this one is different..." Who was I to turn down such an offer? Admittedly I liked her better topless, but I wasn't going to force her to my will. "Okay," I said, and sat down on the side of the bed and looked at her expectantly. As I'd expected, she looked away from my gaze, but she didn't back down. She took a few steps towards me, paused a second as she gripped the bottom of her shirt, and then pulled it over her head and then held it behind her back as she pushed out her preteen chest at me. While the first bra she had shown me a little over an hour earlier was of the halter top style, not lending to too much skin being exposed across her upper chest, this one had a much more classic design. Each little puffy bump had it's own cup that was held in place by the usual system of straps and clasps. At a glance she certainly didn't appear to need anything at all, since she virtually had nothing at all, but given my privileged front row seat to her young body, I could see how each little lump did their best to push back at their respective coverings for a nice round little bulging effect. "D-do you like it, Daddy?" she asked, almost cringing in anticipation that I might respond negatively. She obviously was not a mind reader nor did she have x-ray vision that would have let her see my erection inside my pants. "It's pretty honey. You look grow up with it on." That got me some eye contact from her, with her face lighting up into a broad smile. "Really Daddy? I look grown up like Daisy and Krista do?" "W-well..." I stuttered, she didn't look THAT grown up. "...in your own way...yes..." She got my meaning despite my hesitant wording and put her hands over her little boobs with a pout. "I know I'm small, Daddy...you don't need to remind me..." She was silent a moment as her expression and mannerisms gave me a little insight into her thoughts. From determination to excitement to fear and back to determination, she finally turned her eyes up to meet mine and lowered her hands to her sides. "Wou-would you...t-t-...would you..." she closed her eyes, shook her head from side to side, and took a deep breath before looking up at me again, courage in her eyes. "Will you touch my b-boobies, Daddy?" I couldn't really say I was shocked, but I did regard her a little warily for a moment. "Are you sure about what you're asking me, Trisha?" "Y-yes!" she confirmed, almost yelling the word with conviction before settling down some. "It's okay, Daddy. It's not rape, like we talked about last night...I give you permission to touch my boobs a-and..." she stopped herself, a look of uncertainty holding her back from continuing. "And?" I prompted. "N-nothing...I just want you to touch me, Daddy." I had a feeling she had almost invited me under her skirt, but I knew the rules I'd set for myself; she didn't ask, so I wouldn't jump the gun. She was looking up at me, both scared and expectant, so when I raised my hand and moved it towards her slender torso, she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for a much stronger impact than I was intending to make. To say that she was surprised when my hand touched her cheek was an understatement. She positively hopped a few inches into the air and gasped as though she had been holding her breath. "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont," I said, using her full name, which I had last done that second night when scolding her for grabbing my cock in bed, "I would love to touch your breasts." She stared at me, wide-eyed, body starting to tremble as I moved my hand from her cheek, down to her collar bone, and then sliding to cover her bra and left breast, her heart beating wildly beneath. Although not having been visible, I could feel her excited little nipple pushing against the patch of fabric. I pressed down and moved my hand slightly, causing the cup to rub against that sensitive protrusion and Trisha to whimper and wriggle. "Daddy..." she protested weakly, the friction being a little too much for her. To my surprise, she reached behind her back and undid the clasp, the bra going slack upon her torso. "...that rubs on me too much when you touch." I slipped a finger under the cup and pulled it away from her, exposing her little bumps to me for the second time this week, but allowing me to touch them for the first. I knew her body would be soft and warm, just as it had been two nights ago when I had cradled her half-naked sexually exhausted and satisfied body in my arms, but the first touch of my daughter's breast was still a moment of wonder and excitement for me. Her too, it seemed. "Daddy...I think...I think I need...to go to my room..." she said with breathless excitement. I noticed she couldn't stand still, almost like she was walking in place, an odd version of the 'potty dance.' "Why, honey? What's wrong?" "B-because...m-my fanny is...it's getting wet...I want to rub it Daddy..." I was so tempted to throw her on my bed and rub her bald pussy for her, but I knew better and made the suggestion instead. "You don't have to go, Trisha. You can stay here with me." She hadn't looked me in the eye since her shirt came off, but all of a sudden I was a lot more interesting than the carpet. I noticed her hand was on her belly, trying to snake it's way lower, but she was fighting the urge in my presence. "B-but...you said it was private...not something you do in front of other people..." she sputtered, obviously conflicted between staying and what I had taught her last night. "Then you don't have to do it in front of me," I said, making her confused. "I can do it for you." As my offer was processed through her brain, I could see the desire for this encounter painted all over her face. She moved her twitching hand away from her waist, and stood quietly, awkwardly, waiting for me to have my way with her. I reached for her waist, and I could see her body tense in preparation for the immediate sexual contact she was expecting. It must have been torture for her then that I was only reaching for the button on her skirt to remove it. The pleated strip of cloth fell to her feet, and I could now see that her panties, which looked new, and very cute and sexy for a girl her age and size, were damp in the front and sticking to her anatomy. I put my hands to her hips and pulled down on the waistband. Although I'd dressed her just two nights earlier, covering her naked sensitive post-orgasmic cunny with white panties similar to those she was wearing now, it was in no way the same experience as taking them off for the purpose of pleasuring her body. The upper fabric moved easily and readily exposed her still narrow hips and upper pubic mound. She shifted her feet to open her legs and the crotch of her panties came away from her slit only when pulled down. Trisha, though naked and horny, still felt self-conscious about me seeing her body, and covered her bald slit with her hand. Self control was no match for the feeling of her hand between her legs, and she started to rub her slit. I took her less busy hand and pulled her towards me and the bed, which she climbed upon without ceasing her masturbating. I laid her down on her back, and spread her legs. She couldn't stand to look at me while I positioned her, the whole situation running contrary to her learned behavior, but still her hand never stopped frigging away. It was enough to make me wonder if I had made a mistake and this was too fast for her. "Trisha?" She didn't look at me, and though her hand didn't stop, her expression wasn't particularly a happy one. I saw a tear fall out the corner of her eye and trickle down the side of her nose. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I asked, and she curled up in a ball. I put my hand around her shoulder and sat her up, holding her close to me. She buried her face in my chest and cried. "Trisha, honey, I'm sorry. We don't have to do this, I just thought you--" "I do Daddy...I do..." she said. "Then why are you so upset, honey?" "I don't want you to be mad at me, Daddy. I don't want you to think I'm bad or strange to want it." I was a little confused. "I don't honey. We talked about this last night, remember? How it's okay when both people want to do these private things together." "R-right...but...I want more things...more things now..." "Trisha, what do you want that is so bad?" I asked her. She pulled back from me, and looked at my face, her lips trembling as the words came out. "I...I want you to f-fuck me." Before I could respond, she bolted from me and my bed and I heard her bedroom door slam, leaving behind the new clothes and underwear she had so eagerly wanted to model for me. *** I had considered pursuing her, finding out what went wrong, but I decided to give her some space and to work out whatever anxiety she had developed with regards to asking me to be her first. It was about an hour until I heard her door open, and the floorboards creak. I had already relocated myself to the living room by then, but I could tell she had gone to my bedroom. There was a brief pause before I heard the floor creak again, and she emerged into view from the hall in her pajamas. "Hi, sweetheart," I said, as though nothing had taken place. "Are you feeling better?" "Y-yes Daddy..." she answered meekly, a crooked smile forcing it's way to her lips. "Could I stay up a little late with you?" "Sure, honey. C'mon over," I said, moving the newspaper off the couch beside me. She practically bounced over to my side and snuggled in. I recognized this behavior again as her way of reassuring herself that all was well between us once again, even though this conflict was one that seemed to be entirely contained within her mind. I wanted to talk to her about it, but I didn't have to start the discussion. "Daddy...it's bad for you to fuck me, isn't it?" This being the second time I'd ever heard her swear, my eyebrows raised in surprise, not just for that reason, but also because of the question. "There are several laws against it, honey." "Because of my age...right?" "That...and because I'm your father. It's called incest." "Oh..." she said, mulling that over. "Why is insext bad?" "Incest, honey. It's..." You know, I had never actually considered that question, and I had never imagined my preteen daughter would be the one to make me answer it. "I guess it's because children will usually do what their parents tell them to do, so it wouldn't be done because the child wants to do it." "But...I want to...but I don't want to make you bad." There we had it. She was feeling guilty about asking me to break the law...never mind that we'd already somewhat crossed that line when I felt her up earlier. "You aren't making me bad," I told her, getting her to look up at me. "Sex is something that two people have to agree to do. You want to have sex with me, and I..." I could see she was hanging on my words. "...I want to have sex with you, Trisha." "Really?!" she asked excitedly, sitting up, nearly jumping into my lap. "So it's okay?! We can do it?!" While I was encouraged by her enthusiasm, I felt like maybe she was getting way ahead of herself. "You have to understand something first, honey," I told her, tempering her excitement. "If we did have sex, I could be in big trouble if anybody were to ever find out. Just because you want it, and I want it, doesn't mean it isn't illegal." "But it's okay right? I want it, so it's not rape and it's okay, right?" she asked, a little desperate to hang onto my consenting tone. "It's okay, Trisha. You just can't tell anybody that we do it." "Even Daisy?" I had to smile. "Honey, I think Daisy already knows what both of us want to do." She looked at me with a question forming in her head, but her eyes widened as soon as she answered it for herself. "D-Daisy told you?!" she asked with a voice equal parts horrified and shocked. Before I could come clean with her on Daisy's involvement in this whole situation, Trisha got the full meaning of my words, and had to ask, "How does Daisy know that you want to have sex with me?" "Well...Daisy and I, since the night that she came over to stay with you...we've been...sharing a lot of things." While I certainly knew Trisha was smart enough to figure out exactly what that meant, I wasn't sure how she might take the news that her father was screwing her new friend, role model, and mentor. "Did you have sex with her, Daddy?" The question was point blank and I could tell she seemed to know already, but was just seeking confirmation. "Yes." Trisha was silent a moment, as though she was integrating that into her picture of the last week. "On my bed?" I had been wondering if that whole scene had remained within her sleep and orgasm groggy brain from that night, and it seemed that some part of it had. "Yes, honey." "A-and...she was...she was calling you 'Daddy'..." That wasn't so much a question from her as it was a memory, one that I could tell had been something of a puzzle to her. "I woke up on your bed...Daisy and I had been talking about stuff and I guess I fell asleep there. I could hear noises from my room, so I got up, and went there...I saw you on top of her, moving...my fanny got...it really tickled and I pushed my panties down and I...I think I played with myself while I watched you..." I could only nod in agreement with her view of events that night. "That all...it all really happened, didn't it?" "Yeah, it did." "Wow...I thought it was a dream. I told Daisy about it, and she just laughed and said I was in need of a good fuck...sorry, Daddy, I keep saying that bad word." For all her remorse about using that word in front of me, she didn't sound too hesitant when she did use it. "Trisha, that word...it's okay to say when you're telling me about when somebody else said it, or if you're trying to turn me on, but I don't think it really suits you. You're not that kind of girl." She cocked her head, as though she was trying to understand what that meant fully, so I decided to clarify. "It's not necessarily a bad word, so much as it is an adult word, and should be used in more appropriate adult situations." "You mean, like if we were...fucking?" I had to chuckle at her feeling out the somewhat complicated context of the word that I had just presented to her. "Yeah, something like that, but what I'm getting at, is that for us, you and me, I don't think it really applies for the way I feel about you. Fuck is kind of a rough word, don't you think?" She grinned and nodded a little embarrassed. "I love you, sweetheart, and I don't want to fuck you. I would prefer to make love to you...understand?" That seemed to set off a blush colored light bulb in her head as she got my meaning. "I...I think I understand Daddy. S-so, can we m-make love now?" I was certainly up for it, and I could tell she was up for it, but still, I felt like I needed to give her one more hurdle to overcome before things went too far. "What you're asking me to do with you, is something very special, and it will be the first time you ever do this. You're a virgin still, Trisha, despite everything that has happened in the last week and the last few days in particular. Opening up your body to me, or to any other person for the first time is a big deal, and I think you knew that an hour ago, didn't you? The way you covered yourself with your hand when I pulled your panties down...it wasn't just so you could rub yourself, was it?" She nodded, her eyes downcast. "I...I was kinda scared for you to see it." "And if I pulled your clothes off now, you'd probably cover yourself again, right?" "W-well...b-but if we were going to make love, I-I'd have to let you see and..." "Trisha, I don't want you to HAVE to do anything for me just so I can put my penis inside you. I want you to do it because YOU WANT my, or any penis inside you, especially for the first time in your life. There are a lot of grown-up women who rushed into this when they were young like you, and when they get older and get married to that somebody special in their life, they sometimes regret it, and wish they could have had that moment with their special person instead. Understand?" I know my hard dick sure didn't understand, and I could tell it was none too happy with me fulfilling my duty to raise Trisha to think of her own best interests first. "S-so...w-what should I do?" she asked, turning her eyes to mine, looking for some kind of sage advice or guidance in them. "I can't make this big of a decision for you, but I think that for now, you should think about what I've said. I'll be going to bed in a few hours myself, and if you decide that you really want me to make love to you, then come to my room. Otherwise, I wish you sweet dreams and I'll see you in the morning." I kissed her on the forehead and smiled at that shy little grin she'd given me a week ago when she'd noticed my erection in bed that first night. "Okay, Daddy," she said, and sat up to peck me on the cheek. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the hall, wiggling that cute little butt of hers. Just before she disappeared from view, she stopped and turned around. "Daddy...thanks for talking to me. I think...I think I really feel better now about...you know...everything." "You're welcome, sweetheart. I feel better now too." The way she smiled, like the bond between us, which in truth had always been a little shaky and strained since we were practically strangers only two years earlier, had been deepened and strengthened just now. She knew I wouldn't force her, and put all the power in her hands like it should be for a big decision like this. I tried to turn my attention back to whatever it was I had been doing when she came out to sit with me...honestly I couldn't even remember what it was, nor did I really care. Making love to Trisha was all I could think about. The next ninety minutes were spent only half interested in anything else before I gave up and went to my bedroom, doing my best to make noise in the hall so that she knew I would soon be ready for her. I undressed and slid under the covers. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. Thirty. An hour. Trisha didn't come to my bed that night, that week, that month, or that year. Chapter 12 Daisy grinned at me as her hand slipped under the waistband of my boxers and her fingers wrapped around my shaft. "Still getting hard for me?" she asked, already knowing the answer. "You have to ask? You're holding on to it, aren't you?" "Yeah, well," she began, as she swung her leg over mine to straddle me, "I was afraid you thought I was getting fat." "Fat?" I puzzled at her, as I placed my hands on her hips and slid them up under her shirt and onto her swollen breasts. "No, not fat...but sometimes I do think you weigh as much as two people." She laughed. "It's one-and-a-half at most," she said, hitting my chest playfully, and then rubbing her hands over her growing belly. "I do miss you being on top though. I thought pregnant women weren't supposed to exert themselves?" "Hey, you're the one who said it felt better like this," I responded. "Yeah, well, when this little gal pops out, you owe me, like, three months of hard pounding." "You mean, little 'guy,'" I corrected her. We had decided not to find out the sex, but Daisy was sure it was a girl, and I was going to insist otherwise up until the moment of truth. Her sex drive sure had shot up once she became pregnant, and I felt positive there was a little extra testosterone in her system causing that...not that it had ever been low before. "Whatever," she said, reaching between her still nicely sized thighs to push her low-cut panties aside and press her moist lips upon my cockhead. "Either way, you'll be the one doing the work for a while." She rocked her hips forward, and I slid inside. I didn't know what people were talking about when they said marriage takes all the sex out of a relationship. Once or twice a day was pretty fantastic. "Already?" asked a sweetly accented voice from my doorway. Daisy looked over her shoulder and I looked around her body to see Trisha standing there with her arms crossed and a grin on her face. "It's not even 10 p.m." she pointed out. "I married it. I can sit on it when I like," Daisy told her 13-year old step-daughter. As you might have guessed, Daisy marrying into the family hadn't changed much, and this was far from the first time Trisha had watched us. Trisha strolled into the room and plopped down on the bed where Daisy had lain just moments before. I could see her eyes staying fixed on where my cock disappeared up her stepmother while she slipped her hand under her little skirt to play with herself. Despite our history together, our new little family's sex life rarely involved all three of us at once. Generally Daisy would come to one of us, flirt a bit, and then that lucky person would go off with her and sexy times would ensue. For the one of us that was left out, we'd take this as our queue to head to our bedroom and wait. Eventually Daisy would appear, pussy wet from either her own orgasms or the addition of my own, and that night's runner-up would finally get lucky. Trisha and I rarely watched the other with Daisy, and on those rare occasions where all three of us were on the bed together, I never touched Trisha, and she never laid a hand on me. Despite this compartmentalizing, through our shared experiences with Daisy we'd become familiar with each other as well. When Daisy would come to me last, I could put money on the fact that I'd soon be tasting my daughter on her mouth and feeling her saliva on my shaft as I penetrated my teenage wife. As for Trisha, well, I'd never witnessed it personally, but the likelihood that she'd fingered or licked my cum out of Daisy was pretty high. I'd asked Daisy once what went on in my daughter's bedroom, but only got a naughty grin and the cryptic answer of "girl stuff" in return. At the very least, I was sure they were safe about it and never let any accidental fertilizing take place, well, other than the one that had already occurred in Daisy's womb. Trisha's periods had begun just after her 12th birthday, and Daisy seemed to delight in making a big deal of the event and embarrassing Trisha every chance she got. Somewhere, hidden away on my computer was a picture of a beet-red Trisha wearing a party hat constructed out of pads and tampons. No doubt I'd need that some day for blackmail and embarrassment purposes. "Daddy, can I talk to you about something?" I looked at her and chuckled at the situation. "You picked a hell of a time to do it," I told her. "Well sorry, but I didn't think you guys would be doing it already," she said with a sort of gasping giggle. "Go ahead then. Just don't expect my full attention," I said while teasing one of Daisy's nipples. She retaliated with squeeze from her PC muscle, eliciting a groan from me. "Okay...there, um...there's a boy..." I don't think anything had ever caused Daisy and I to pause mid-sex quite the way those words had. "A boy?" asked Daisy. "You mean a human being with a penis who isn't your father?" "Y-yeah..." Trisha said shyly. It was no secret that I was still masturbation material for my daughter. Any time I happened to be exposed around the house, my cock was a magnet for Trisha's eyes. "He's really cute and a nice guy, and I heard he's," she paused a moment, as though she was embarrassed to say what came next, "really good at...it." "It?" Daisy and I asked in unison, though we both had a pretty good idea what 'it' was. "Yeah...it." "Kissing? Making out?" I offered a few softball options for Trisha to cling to, and perhaps even in my own hopes that she wasn't seriously considering what I suspected she might be. "Fucking?" Daisy was much less considerate of my daughter's feelings. "Yeah, that," Trisha said with a smile and a little gasp as her masturbation started to pay off. "Sweetheart, how old is this boy?" I asked. All things considered, he should be about her age, and at that age, how the hell do boys get that kind of rep? "I-I don't really know, but he's a grade higher than me," she replied. "So 14 then?" "Y-yeah, sure." Her voice caught a little, and I could tell by the angle of her wrist that she was penetrating herself. Daisy had begun to slowly rock on top of me, her eyes just as interested as my own in Trisha's wrist. "And you just 'heard,' that this boy, who is only a little older than you, was good at sex?" "Girls talk too, you know," Daisy piped in, grinding on me and biting her lip as I felt the tip of my cock brush her swollen cervix. "I...unnh...I know, but at 13?" I responded. It's not that I didn't believe them, considering all that I had experienced, but it was still a bit hard to fathom that other barely teenage girls out there were trading information on which boy was good at sex in middle school. "I was 13," Daisy pointed out. "Krista was 12 her first time," she revealed about her now 15-year old sister. "Yeaaaah, but you and your sister didn't exactly lose your innocence like normal people," I countered. Daisy just shrugged with a smile. "At least we lost it to somebody that we loved," she answered, and then looked at Trisha. "Is that what you're here to ask your dad about?" she asked. I got the feeling that Daisy knew a bit more about this situation than she was letting on. "What's this about, you guys?" I asked, looking from one to the other. "Daddy, do you remember when I...when we almost...here on your bed, I laid down and asked you to have sex with me?" she asked, referencing that night just over two years past that felt like a lifetime ago. "Yes, I remember," I told her. "I also remember telling you..." and then I realized why she was here on my bed. "You're sure?" "Daddy, will you be my first?" I heard a sniff and looked at my pregnant wife, who was wiping a tear from her cheek. She was also rocking her hips. "Daisy, did you and Trisha talk about this already?" I asked her, knowing that they probably had. "She asked me first if it was okay. Remember what I told you then, Trish?" I looked to Trisha, who's face reddened. "She told me that I came out of you before she ever came on top of you, so...Daddy, please?" Trisha scooted up on the bed and lay by my side, frigging herself as she looked up at me adoringly. Daisy took my hand that was nearest to Trisha, removed it from her breast and placed it on my daughter's thigh. Trisha then took this offered hand of mine, and without even asking me, guided it under her skirt and between her legs. With a finger inside my daughter, I came inside my wife. Chapter 13 The odor of dinner met my nose as soon as I pulled into the garage. Daisy and Trisha had worked together since the wedding to both learn as many new recipes as they could, so it was always a surprise just what I was coming home to. This time however, I knew that only Trisha was going to be in that kitchen waiting for me, no doubt as nervously as she had been over a year prior when she and I sat down to meatloaf and were interrupted by a phone call. Daisy, though an integral part of bringing us to where we were tonight, was spending the night with her siblings, giving me and Trisha the night alone. By the time my hand was placed on the doorknob, I had deduced that chicken was on the menu. "Welcome home, Daddy!" called Trisha, upon hearing me open the door. She popped up from behind the countertop, a lightly stained apron covering her body. A shy smile and blush crossed her face almost immediately, giving away that her mind wasn't just on dinner. "Smells delish, Trish," I rhymed, eliciting a groan from her. "That sounds so dumb, Daddy," she said a bit grumpily, and turned her back to me to wash her hands. "What's your guess?" she asked. "Chicken, I can tell you that much," I said, eying the kitchen for clues. On the stovetop was a dish with peas and carrots bubbling away, and a bottle of white wine. I sniffed the aroma in the air again. "But there's something else with it, isn't there?" "You're right, there is," she said, looking over her shoulder and smiling at me. The timer on the counter went off, and she grabbed her hot pads, pulling the mystery chicken dish out from the oven. I took my seat at the table, which was already set, though not in any kind of special or elaborate arrangement for the special circumstances of the day. Trisha approached, proudly carrying her creation, which I could then tell also had cheese and some sort of bread component from the sudden scent of toast. "Chicken cordon blue," she stated, not quite getting the pronouncement of 'bleu' correct, but looking every bit like she had mastered the dish as she placed it upon the table before me. "Tré³ magnifique," I stated, making her laugh. She took off her apron, and hung it up as she brought over the veggies and the bottle of wine. She wasn't wearing anything particularly elaborate, just like the table setting, no hint of this being anything but an ordinary dinner between father and daughter on any other night of the week. That being true, there was still a bit of sexual tension that I'm sure both of us felt but neither wanted to address. We chatted as we ate; Trisha being particularly enthused about possibly joining the high school soccer team in a few years. Daisy's sister, though in the same grade as Trisha, was actually two years older, due to being a very small girl when she was young so she was held out for an extra year before kindergarten, and having to repeat a grade following the trauma of her parents' untimely deaths. Because of this, and her sterling grades of late, she was granted a special exemption to join the high school girls' team as a seventh grader. As she spoke, I could see Trisha was eyeing my wine glass. "Want some?" I asked her. "Can I?" she asked, a little surprised. Both Daisy and I would sometimes give her sips, but stopped short of letting her have a full glass, which was funny since Daisy herself was still under the legal drinking age of 21 (not that she continued drinking after finding out she was pregnant, mind you). "Get a glass," I told her with a nod towards the cabinet. She spryly jumped up and went to retrieve her own wine glass, which afforded me the opportunity to admire her barely teenaged backside in the blue jeans she was wearing as she strained to reach the shelf that was just within her reach. She flounced back to the table and presented it to me for filling. I gave her about a quarter of the glass and she frowned. "Is that all?" she asked. "Trish, honey, you're 13, and to the best of my knowledge you've never had a whole lot to drink before. We'll take this slowly, so as not to cause problems that might impact the rest of our evening." It was the first reference either of us had made to the scheduled loss of her virginity, and it caused her to blush furiously. "O-okay," she relented, and sipped at her apportionment of wine, making a face. "It's sour," she remarked, before sipping again and again. It wasn't long before she had emptied her glass and held it out for more. "Eat your dinner," I lightly scolded her, wanting to make sure she had something other than alcohol to digest. She made an exaggerated expression of displeasure with me, but then broke into some giggles. Her eyes were just getting a little glassy and I knew that I probably shouldn't give her much more than I had given her before. She cleared her plate as told, and I rewarded her with another quarter of a glass before corking the bottle. "Awww," she whined. "You got to have two glasses, and I only got this much," she pointed at the mid point of her glass, her head swaying just a little. "That's right, and I think you can tell why I've cut you off," I said, hoping I hadn't made a big mistake in letting her drink. Even though Trisha had hit a growth spurt in the last year, she was still a bit on the small size for her age, and it apparently didn't take much to make her loopy. At the very least if tonight ended up a bust and she had a tiny hangover tomorrow, she'd learn a lesson or two about drinking. She downed the second serving of wine, and stood to take her plate to the sink and practically spun in a circle when she turned towards the kitchen. She stumbled a bit to the right and I moved to catch her arm and steady her. "Whoa there," I told her, getting to my feet and putting my hand on her shoulder. "I think you'd better have a seat and let me clean up." "But Daddddy, we always do the dishes togeeether," she whined a little childishly, showing just what kind of a drunk she was: a petulant one. "Not this time," I told her, steering her towards the couch. "Here, sit. Take a nap if you want to." "Are we still gonna do it later?" she asked, a little bluntly as she plopped down on the couch. "I've been thinking about it allll day," she told me with a silly expression that reminded me a little of Daisy's sultriness. "Yes, later. But now you sit, and if you feel like you're going to puke, try to make it to the bathroom first," I told her, returning to clear the table. "Okay," she audibly pouted, and turned on the TV to start flipping channels. I sighed again, hoping I hadn't made a mess of things. By the time I came back to the living room, she was laying down on the couch. "Feeling okay?" I asked approaching her. "Yeah," she answered in a monotone. She propped herself up with her arm, making room for me to sit down, and when I did, she laid her head down on my lap and continued to watch TV. "Tired?" "Kinda. I feel all wobbly and stuff," she said, and followed it up with a yawn. "We really gonna do it later?" This was the second time she'd asked me that, and I wondered if maybe she was having second thoughts. "If you still want to, yes," I answered, putting my hand on her head and stroking her hair slowly. "Are you worried about it?" "I don't know...kind of...yeah, I guess," she admitted. "I get all scared feeling in my tummy when I think about it...like if maybe I'm too small down there or if I'll do it wrong, and then we can't..." "Can't what?" "I don't know...just...that it won't be right. I guess I'm being dumb," she said finally. "No, you're not, Trisha," I assured her. "This is a big thing for you, so of course you're going to worry like this. You're not dumb at all." It had been almost two weeks since that night she laid down on the bed with Daisy and I and made her request. The only reason we'd waited at all (besides the fact that I shot my load inside Daisy about 5 minutes later) was that Trisha insisted that it be done without protection so that she could get the full deflowering experience, and so with some guidance from Daisy, they picked a day where the chances of her getting pregnant would be at the lowest. I'd been able to tell at various times since that night that she was thinking about it. She'd space out at dinner, or I'd catch her gaze and she'd look away from me or withdraw a little. She became a frequent visitor to my bedroom and would watch me and Daisy make love, almost like she was studying in preparation for a test. I guessed that maybe she was trying to psyche herself up, reassure herself that she would be able to do this. I suppose I hadn't really thought about it until now, but she must have been feeling really stressed out over everything. "I love you, Daddy," she murmured. "I love you too, Trisha," I told her, and she drifted into sleep. *** There was only one problem with Trisha using my lap as a pillow: I was unable to lean forward and get my hands on the remote so I wouldn't have to watch whatever this stupid channel was that she had turned on. Gone were the days that she would turn on one of those silly tween comedies, and now I was stuck watching mind-numbing "reality" show after show. I looked down at my sleeping daughter's face and with a pang of sadness realized that she wasn't a little girl anymore. Granted, I never had much time with her when she was little since I only met her when she was a few months shy of her ninth birthday and we both had ourselves an adjustment period where we had gotten used to each other's presence, but the feeling of that first time she sat close to me and lay her head against my shoulder here on this couch was one of my first cherished memories with her. She could have sat on my lap comfortably back then, but not so much now with that teen butt she's been developing. It occurred to me that I've never touched her there, among other places, not even in doling out punishment; I just wasn't the type of parent to spank. My eyes swept down over her body. Her legs had gotten so long and weren't the skinny sticks that they used to be. Her hips had expanded bit by bit over the last few years, not quite giving her a knockout hourglass figure, but she wasn't straight as a rail any longer. Her breasts were now an appropriately proportioned B-cup and never failed to draw my eye when she would go about the house without a shirt on early in the morning. Even her face was maturing, and just as I observed when she was younger, she had her mother's eyes and mouth, and the resemblance seemed to grow more every year. As I looked at her lips, my train of thought brought about a rather stunning realization. One of the indelible memories of that night with her mother was how she smiled when she got on her knees in front of me, licked her lips, and then looked up at me as her mouth surrounded my hard cock. It was a great blow job, the way her tongue swept over and under the head, seeking out the places that made me gasp or groan and then focused on those areas. It was almost too good, as twice she pulled away when I warned her how close I was getting. It was after that second time that she suggested I not hold back any longer, and then stood up and pulled down her panties. I had fucked her from behind, bent over the foot of her bed. I remember feeling her fingertips as she worked on her clit, begging me to not cum quickly so that she could catch up. I tried my best, but the sensation of her wet and welcoming insides had me cumming first. I remembered too that her vagina wasn't particularly deep and that I had to temper my thrusting so as not to painfully hit her cervix, which I ended up doing anyways during my orgasm. That was my moment of revelation. I actually remembered the specific sex act that conceived Trisha. I'd had eight sex partners in my life, starting with my third high school girlfriend when I was 17. Of course I'd remember my first time, what boy wouldn't, but aside from a few other milestone sexual encounters, it was difficult to recall every orgasm I'd ever had with somebody. That night, in a foreign country, where I had never expected to get that lucky when I walked into that pub, was most certainly a memorable sexual experience, even before I became aware of the consequences. I certainly couldn't tell you about the orgasm that got Daisy pregnant, aside from maybe the one I had that first night she'd gone off of her pill, and we knew from the timing of learning she was pregnant that it didn't happen that night. So, not only did I recall that act of intercourse, but as I just related, the oral sex just prior to it that nearly pushed me over the edge twice would have erased Trisha's existence if Kat hadn't been in the mood to take things further with the strange young man who's awful jokes she'd laughed at. Dissolving in her own mother's stomach seemed an awful fate for this sleeping beauty on my lap. Another small detail of that night occurred to me years ago when I got the phone call that brought Trisha into my life. After that first instance of sex, Kat and I shared a bed for a few hours of afterglow induced sleep. When her alarm clock went off at the rather annoying time of 5am, we both found ourselves in the mood again, and did it in missionary. When I had announced my impending climax she rather frantically told me to pull out, and I did, shooting it on her stomach. Maybe I should have asked then if she was on the pill as I had just assumed earlier when she didn't produce a condom for me to wear, but she didn't seem to be upset about the deposit I had left earlier, so when we parted ways the possibility of a pregnancy was not something I thought of again. All my memories of Kat McClaren were good ones. The weight on my thigh lightened, and Trisha's groggy face rose up, looked around as though she were lost, and then sat upright next to me. "I fell asleep," she said, though I couldn't quite tell if it was a statement or a question. "Yes you did," I told her, and she leaned against me with her head on my shoulder. "Do you feel better?" "I guess," she said noncommittally. "I need to pee," she stated and rose on her unsteady feet. I stood as well, poised to catch her if she were too off kilter, but she felt out her balance with small steps, and by the time she hit the hall she was moving pretty good. Relaxing, I sat down and took this opportunity to finally change the TV channel. Shortly, following the roar of the toilet flush, Trisha returned to me, plopping down beside me on the couch. "Daddy?" "Yes?" "I'm a little scared," she said as she cuddled up beside me. "Of sex?" "Yeah." "With me, or in general?" "In general." "Like what specifically? Having a dick inside you? Chance of getting pregnant?" "I don't know," she whined cutely as she buried her face in my chest. "It just...it feels like it's a really big deal. I keep thinking about what you said when I was younger and wanted to do it. I thought about it, and you know, I was too scared back then for you to even see my pussy all spread open like you would need to, so I kind of knew I shouldn't do it then. Now though, you know, I watch you and Daisy do it, and sometimes you watch me and her messing around, so I know you've seen it, and then when I asked you for my first time two weeks ago, I made you finger me, and it felt nice, so it made me sure that I was ready, but now we're gonna do it tonight and...I get scared feeling that I might be wrong." "Do you think, sweetheart, that maybe you're just thinking about it too much?" "Maybe. I dunno." "Tell me, honey," I started, shifting my body just a bit to be a bit more comfortable, and Trisha cuddled closer, practically sitting on top of me. "When you watch me and Daisy, does it seem like a big deal?" "I-isn't it one? You guys are married and--" "But you know people don't need to be married to do this, right? You wouldn't exist if only married people did this." "Right...you were a one-night stand with Mum." "Well, one night and again in the morning." "Eww...Dad, I don't wanna know that." "Sorry, but you see my point? Sex isn't always a big deal. Sometimes it's just about feeling good with somebody you like, or something you do when you're drunk on a business trip on the other side of the world. It's a big step when you decide that you're ready for sex, because of all the responsibilities you might gain from it, but as long as you can manage those responsibilities, you should just have fun with it and not worry so much. People have been having sex for millions of years, pretty much all of them without horny teenage stepmoms around to eat them out every other night, so I think you are probably far more ready now than some of them ever were." I had her giggling at the end. "Thanks, Daddy. I love you." She scooted herself up on top of me, straddling me, and kissed me on the lips. She sat up straight, and pulled her shirt off over her head, her breasts, the size of small apples, nestled in her bra. "I'm thinking you're not scared anymore, are you?" She just smiled and reached around behind her back and unhooked herself, the cups and straps going slack, and the whole deal sliding off her arms. "I'm not scared, Daddy. I'll never be scared with you." Chapter 14 I pulled off my underwear, my cock was starting to droop from its initial excitement with Trisha's cute little tits in my face. After she showed me how Daisy had taught her how to kiss, she announced that she had an idea and I should go to my bedroom, undress, and get into bed. That was 10 minutes ago, and as ready to go as I was, my erection had decided that it was going to take a small break as I slipped beneath the sheets. I could hear her in her room, looking for something, looking through her dresser drawers for something. I wondered what she was up to. Was she going to dress up for me? Had Daisy helped her set something up? Was that music I heard now? No, it stopped...there it was again. A few more minutes went by, as music continued to play and then stop, then played again, then stopped. "Trisha, what's going on?" I called out to her. "Keep waiting, Daddy!" she yelled back. "I'm getting something ready!" I sighed, and looked around my bedroom, trying to figure out some way to pass the time. I tell you, nothing is more boring than going from your own daughter sitting on your lap with her shirt off to sitting alone and naked in bed and being told to wait. I eventually settled on just playing with myself, so at least I'd be ready when she was. After about a minute of just lazy stroking, I heard her out in the hall...but she was going the wrong way. A door opened...no, a cupboard? The hall closet perhaps? "Oh, there it is," I heard her say, and then her footsteps hurried back to her room. Some noises, like something was being moved, then a loud clunk closer to the hall. "Trisha, are you okay?" "Yes, Daddy! Wait please!" she called back, her voice now just down the hall from her bedroom doorway. Her footsteps padded close to my doorway, and I saw her shadow just outside. She set something down on the floor against the wall just outside my room, then I heard a firm click followed by a hiss that suddenly got louder, and then...rain? The sound of heavy rain, then rolling thunder, followed by more rain and then...a bass guitar and cymbals being tapped? Another click put an abrupt stop to the sound, and just as I figured out it was a cassette tape I was hearing, Trisha came running into my room, wearing a large t-shirt, presumably naked from the waist down, hair tied up in short unbraided pigtails, similar to the braids she used to put her hair up in when she slept when her hair was longer. She dove onto the bed beside me, and buried her face in my chest, her naked rump in the air. I realized with a laugh what was going on and which moment from our past she was recreating. "D-did you hear the thunder, Daddy?" she tried to ask me, doing her best to sound scared, but she too was laughing by then. She tried to then ask if she could sleep with me, but the giggles overtook her. I couldn't help myself and sat up, and gave her a playful smack on her wiggling bottom. "Ow!" "You little goofball," I teased her. "I'm not little, Daddy!" she said, pushing herself up on her arms. "I've got boobies, see!" She pulled at the neck of her shirt, and showed me those breasts in much the same way I first saw them when she was 11. "I have," I told her, "they're lovely." She giggled, and straightened up on her knees. The shirt she wore was that most infuriating of lengths where it was always on the verge of showing you what you wanted to see, but never quite did. Fortunately for me, Trisha was in a sharing mood. "And look here too, Daddy," she said, lifting the shirt up. Now this did surprise me. "I have hair on my fanny!" she said, pointing to a spot on her hairless mound. "You did two weeks ago, but you certainly don't now," I told her, staring at her bald sex. "Besides, you didn't have a single hair on you down there the first time you showed it to me either." Now it was her turn to be shocked. "How do you know that?! You didn't even want to see it then! You told me I was being naughty!" Despite her seeming outrage at my confession, she had taken hold of my hand and brought it to her slit. She was indeed smooth as a preteen. "A few nights later," I told her, as I stroked her lips, feeling her getting wet, "when Daisy came over, and I had sex with her for the first time, you weren't exactly dressed yourself when you found us. Who do you think put your panties on you before tucking you into bed?" "Oh my gosh, Daddy, you naughty perv!" she laughed before she moaned from my well-timed rub of her clit. "I bet you jerked off thinking about it too," she correctly accused me. "Actually, I did," I answered her, shocking her again. "That stormy night, remember?" She looked at me confused. "But...that was before..." "No, sweetie, that was after you told me that little lie about your hair down there. I snatched up those little panties you had been wearing and..." I pressed my finger into her sticky wetness and teased her warm opening with my finger tip. "Oh my gosh, Daddy, oh my gosh!" she squealed, rocking her hips into my hand, my finger entering her tight wet heaven. "I always thought that was precum you got on me, but it was really after you did it?" "That's right," I confirmed, pushing my digit deeper, feeling her flex her young pussy on it. "That was the leftovers from me thinking about your bald little fanny." I pushed my finger in, and at the same time Trisha pressed down, and to both our surprise the full length of my middle finger had sunk inside of her. "Mnn, Daddy!" she groaned. "I...I played with myself after I went back to bed, and I," she twisted her body from side to side, groaning as her lips and clit rubbed on my palm, "I rubbed your cum on my pussy!" She humped my hand as she realized what an illicit thing she'd done over a year ago, never mind that she always knew where that wetness I had left on her body came from, she just hadn't really known that it was more potently sperm filled fluids. I took her hand in mine, and placed it on the cock supported tent in the sheet I had over my body. "How'd you like it if I rubbed some more of it on you?" "Mhnn!" she nodded, and squeezed the head of my cock within the sheet. "Oh!" she gasped, and I both saw and felt her body tense as she orgasmed. I felt warmth on my palm, and saw it dripping with what I had always heard about from Daisy, but never saw for myself. Trisha was a squirter. I had just always assumed that those "spilled glasses of water" that Trisha had claimed made her wash her sheets were just little, but still embarrassing, wet spots from when she would masturbate, but no, she was probably doing this all along. She looked at me with a sheepish smile, but there was no embarrassment. For Trisha, this was just how her body reacted. She relaxed her grip on my cockhead, and pulled the sheet away to uncover it. She looked at it like a kid with a fist full of cash might look at all the cakes in the display case at a bakery. "Are you ready for it?" I asked her, withdrawing my finger, but continuing to rub her. "Yeah. I think so," she nodded, and lay down on the bed beside me. "You on top," she requested. "That's how I always imagined it with you." "Alright," I sat up and moved over as she spread her legs and looked up at me. For a moment she wasn't just a beautiful young teenager who was about to lose her virginity. She was also that scared young girl I met nearly 5 years earlier who had just lost her mother and was meeting her father for the first time, but was trying to put on a brave face. She was the embarrassed little girl who wet her bed 5 times in her first month living with me. She was that same little girl who barged her way into my bed the first time a thunderstorm crashed outside. She was the proud student who showed me her first (and so far only) straight-A report card. She was the mischievous budding bundle of hormones that pulled up her night shirt to expose herself to me before groping my penis. She was that embarrassed girl who showed me her first bra days later, and made a request of me that she herself wasn't really sure of at the time. She was that lustful girl that watched and touched herself as I attempted to impregnate her step-mother on our honeymoon. Finally she was the confident young teen who lay down beside me two weeks ago and guided my hand to her wet sex for the first time. "D-Daddy?" she questioned, making me realize that I had been staring silently at her. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong, sweetheart," I said, waddling forward on my knees and putting my hand around my cock to guide it. "I was just...just thinking about how I've watched you grow up." Something wet ran down my cheek. "Oh...Daddy," Trish cooed at me sympathetically with emotion creeping into her voice. She sat up and reached her arms out to me for an embrace, which I accepted readily. "You're not supposed to cry when you're going to have sex with me, Daddy," she jokingly admonished through some tears of her own. "You shouldn't either. I'll wonder if I'm hurting you," I answered, rubbing her bare back as she pressed against me, her small breasts rubbing against my chest, and my erection poking her belly. "You'd never hurt me, Daddy. I love you so much. Ever since the first time I touched myself, I knew my first time, doing it for real, would be with you." One of her arms slid down my back, and reached between us to wrap her hand around my shaft. "I'm ready for you, Daddy. Please, have my virginity." Trisha began to recline back onto the bed, and I moved with her, my adult body on top of her smaller early teenage frame. As though we had rehearsed it, we shifted against each other almost perfectly, and I felt the soft wet valley of her bald sex against the head of my cock. Her hand found it, and pulled, placing the tip just within her warmth. In the moment before I pushed inside, I thought back to the talk we had two years earlier. She had been so shy and hesitant then, despite her bold request at the time. Looking up at me now was the flushed face of a confident young woman who had grown up in so many ways in such a small time span. I opened my mouth to speak, and say those three words that some might consider to be cliche in this moment, but as our eyes made contact I could feel their meaning pass silently between us just the same. Words having failed in the moment, I did only what was left for me to do. "Ohh!" Trisha exhaled, her eyes fluttering closed as I pressed into her depths. I was relatively sure it was a painless experience for her, as Daisy had shared with me that Trisha had been fully fingering herself from pretty much the first time she had masturbated, and that she could not recall ever experiencing the pain of tearing her hymen in the process, probably being one of those girls that were born without one. "So big," she moaned. "It doesn't hurt anywhere?" I asked, my own breathing growing heavy as I contended with the sensation of her tight young pussy coaxing me to do my biological duty. "No, Daddy, no. It...it feels...you feel so good inside me. It's just different from other things." She smiled up at me, positively basking in the moment of our new intimacy. "Does it feel good for you? Y-you're not moving." I could hear a little doubt creeping in. "Yes, Trish...you...you feel really good. I'm just trying not to...to go too fast for you," I assured her. "Mmm...I love you, Daddy," she sighed, saying at last those words we'd thought towards each other just a moment ago. "It's okay. I'm ready for you now. I waited before, but I'm ready now. Fuck me. Fuck me like I wanted you to back then." Her eyes looked up at me, clearer than they'd ever been before, full of nothing but trust in me. "I love you too, Trisha," I said, and drew back, her tight young cunt both gripping on me and pushing me away at the same time. When only the head remained inside, I pumped forward, the wetness that Trisha had tried so hard to hide years ago, helping me to glide deep inside again. "Oooh!" she gasped, biting at her lip as our hips collided, but I didn't give her time to savor that moment. No, I did as she had asked me. Closing my eyes I pictured that little girl with the gently swelling nipples and the plump hairless mound that had lovingly teased me in this same bed with her blossoming sexuality. I returned to being that man that snatched up her panties and lusted over that forbidden flesh. How tight and small had she appeared to me then, naively asking me to put my cock inside of her. Two years of stored up desire, desire that I thought had been satiated by my hornball teenage wife, suddenly reemerged from somewhere within me and surged into my lower body, making me thrust again and again. "Aaah! Aaah, Daddy, yes!" she cried out, her slender legs bending and rubbing against my sides as I took her. I felt her arms reaching around my back, and I obliged her by pressing my body against her as I kept up the pace of my screwing, mashing her firm young tits into my chest. The difference in our heights put her face into my collarbone, and I could feel her breath on me there when she would exhale in rapid bursts. Her pussy was tight and constricting around me, but at the same time welcoming and yielding from her characteristic wetness that so well lubricated my shaft and produced a gentle suckling sound with each plunge. "It's so warm, Daddy. So warm and big inside me. I feel so full when you push in!" I pressed harder each time, going deeper, even if it was only by fractions of an inch at a time. I felt her moving along with me, her much narrower childish hips rocking and pushing back at me. I could feel her thighs spreading as my own presses between them, our groins growing closer together, eventually meeting in a satisfying slap of my balls against her bottom and the soft press of her pussy lips around the base of my shaft. For the first time since she was a sperm cell waiting to shoot out of me, we were as close to being one person as we'd ever be. "Oh, Daddy...oh, I-I never knew it could be so deep in," she groaned under me. "M-Mom...D-Daisy, I mean, s-she wanted to h-help me g-get used to it for you tonight, b-but," she paused to groan as I'm certain I felt the tip make contact with her cervix, "I-I wanted o-only you to be the f-first to...first to fill up my fanny like this." I groaned at that choice of words. Not a bad groan, like I found the word 'fanny' to be off putting or cheesy. Oh no, quite the opposite. It was only once Daisy came to live with us that Trisha had stopped using her native slang 'fanny' to refer to her nether regions. That she was saying it now that I was literally balls deep inside her, evoked all kinds of memories and thoughts of her pre-pubescent body. "Only me, sweetheart?" I asked her. "Even when you were a horny naughty little girl?" "Yes, Daddy, yes," she whimpered. I could feel her clench around me in that moment between question and answer. Not just with her slick walls, but with her arms around me too. "Ever since I touched it...ever since I saw it...ever since Daisy told me about all the wet sticky spermies that would shoot up inside me. I fingered my little fanny wanting Daddy to fuck me!" I felt her go. Seconds later, I followed, granting my little girl's wish. Chapter 15 "Daddy...I'm getting married!" I winced. It's not that I wasn't happy for Trisha. If anything hearing the emotion in her voice made my heart swell with love and pride for her happiness. It's just...as her father, I felt like I was losing her somehow. To be fully honest, I had known for sometime that Joh was going to pop the question, as he'd asked me privately for my permission when he and Trisha had visited over the holidays. It had really surprised me at the time, as I really didn't think asking a father for his daughter's hand was something that was done anymore. The poor guy was so nervous that he actually asked me in his native Dutch first before seeing the lost look on my face. I gave it, of course. Johannes had always impressed me from the day Trisha brought him home with her from London four years ago. "Congratulations, sweetheart," I replied, my voice almost cracking, although I wondered if she might mistake that for poor line quality on this international call. I glanced at the bedside clock, it was 9:23 in the morning. "When did he ask you?" "Just after lunch. I would have called you sooner, but you would have been asleep and, um...we've been celebrating." I smirked. 'Celebrating' had been a code word for 'fucking' between Daisy, Trisha, and I when the kids were younger. A bit of quick mental math told me that it was just before 6:30 in the evening in Greece. "Celebrate too much and you might need a third plane ticket the next time you visit," I joked. I heard Trisha laugh lightly at that, hesitantly. "Uh, w-well, about that, Daddy..." she trailed off quietly, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. "Trisha, are you?" I thought I heard a sniffle come from the little speaker next to my ear, although that could have been line quality too. "I am, Daddy. I'm having a baby." I was floored. "We only just found out today. I took, like, 12 tests. I've never peed so much." "S-Sweetheart," I started, my mind going blank from the shock of how sudden this all was. I blinked and felt something wet run down my cheek. "Con--congratulations," I repeated my earlier felicitation. "You're having a baby," I stated dumbly. "Yeah, I am," she cried happily from half a world away. "You're gonna be a grandpa. Mattie and Sabs are gonna be aunties, and Davy an uncle." "I don't know how Daisy is going to feel about being called 'Grandma,'" I remarked. "She's only 32." Trisha laughed. The sound of her voice only made me miss her more. "When are you due? When will I see you again?" "We haven't seen a doctor yet. I've missed two periods though, so...in seven months, I guess? October?" "Come out in May then. For the birthdays," I suggested. Trisha, Daisy, and the twins all had May birthdays. "Okay, I'll try. Is it safe for the baby to fly on an airplane though?" "You've only been in Greece four days," I pointed out. "Unless you two are planning to walk back to Groningen, I think you have the answer to that." "Oh, Daddy," she laughed. "Is anybody else there?" "Not here with me, no. Daisy got up to get breakfast for the kids just before you called. I can go get them so you can share the news," I offered, sitting up in anticipation of doing just that. "A-actually, Daddy, w-why don't we stay like this a little longer. Just us in your bed together, like back then." Back then, the last time just the two of us shared this bed, was 12 years ago. "Sure, sweetheart," I agreed, settling back down. "Is Joh not there with you right now?" "No. He went out to get dinner." "So it really is just the two of us alone then." "Yeah." It was silent on the line for a moment, long enough that I was about to ask if she was still there when she spoke up again. "H-how is everybody? How are you?" "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me. Daisy has been keeping me on a strict diet of bland, bland and more bland." A few years earlier, shortly after my 50th birthday, I had had a fainting spell while barking instructions from the sidelines of Mattie's soccer game, which scared the hell out of all of us. I suffered no ill effects from it, but under doctor's orders was put on a low sodium, low fat diet, which my dutiful young wife enforced with the ruthlessness of a hardened dictator. Her ultimatum was that I had to give up either food or sex. It was an easy choice. Trisha, for her part, fussed over me right up until she got on the plane to Europe two months later. "Good. That's good." A beat. "And the kids?" "Well, Mattie seems to have a new boyfriend every week these days," I sighed. "Oooh, busy girl. She's gonna end up like her Auntie Krista if she's not careful." I knew Trisha was joking, but that thought turned a few more hairs on my head gray. Krista was only 27, but had four kids already, and she only really knew the father of the first one: her big brother. "Hey now. You know your little sister is better than that," I groaned. "I know, Daddy. Sabs is a very good girl!" "She had better be. She's only 10," I pointed out, to the sound of giggles, not just in my ear, but at my door as well. "Speaking of the little angel..." I beckoned, and Sabrina, my youngest daughter by a few minutes, leapt forward, diving onto the bed beside me in a manner reminiscent of a certain other child of mine when she was little. "Good morning, Daddy," she said, kissing my cheek and cuddling up by my side, laying her head on my chest. "Are your sister and brother up yet?" I asked her. "Nuh-uh. They're still in bed." "Is that Sabs?" I heard Trisha ask in my ear. "Yeah," I answered her. "Sabby, you want to talk to your big sis?" I asked her. "Trisha?!" her eyes lit up. It was an interesting quirk of genetics, but Trisha and Sabrina really did look like each other despite having different mothers. I handed the phone over. "Hi Trisha! ... A secret? ... Really?! ... A baby too?! Daddy, Trisha's gonna get married and have a baby!" I laughed as I put my hand on her back and rubbed. "I guess it's not that much of a secret now, is it?" I asked her, making her giggle. She cupped her hand around her mouth and turned over to face away from me in an attempt to hide what she would say next. I strained my ears to listen in anyways. "Did you get filled up with a lot of sperm to make it?" my little local daughter asked my big foreign daughter, and another giggle followed the answer she was given. "Nuh-uh. ... No. ... Mattie has, but not me. ... No. I wanna be like you and do it with Daddy first." Yeah. In case you had been wondering, despite our best efforts at first, we had become that sort of family. I took the opportunity to do what Sabs had come in here to do with me in the first place, and slid my hand between her legs to rub her bare pussy. She really was my very good girl. As I gently diddled the last remaining virgin in the house, I allowed myself a moment to day dream about the near future and beyond. I imagined my little future grandson or granddaughter playing with their aunts and uncle. I imagined those same aunts and uncle growing up and having more little grandchildren for me and Daisy. I would be almost 53 later this year when this one would be born. How old would I be when the others came? 63? 70? Would I see the day when those babies would have babies? I wasn't really too worried about my health as things were now, but...maybe I shouldn't complain so much when Daisy would serve me some kind of weird seaweed substitute for meat when the kids would all get real hamburgers... Motion at the door drew my attention out of the thought bubble above my head. There stood Matilda, age 12, a nipple pocked t-shirt covering her chest, with a sullen look on her face and a hand cupped between her bare legs. Beside her was David, age 10, naked as the day he was born, with a hard little pecker sticking straight up. Behind them was Daisy, one hand on each of their shoulders, and a Cheshire smile on her face that I knew meant something was up in this hornball family of ours. "What?" I asked, and Daisy patted our son's shoulder. "I came!" he said exuberantly, and I saw then that his hairless groin was glistening in the morning light coming in through the window. "In me," added Mattie with a perturbed sigh, who then held out her hand to show me the product of my boy's first ejaculation that had dripped out into her palm. A few more hairs on my head lost all color. "Alright," I sighed. "C'mere you guys," I motioned for the group to come join me and Sabs on the bed. "But before we deal with that," and I reached over to take my phone from the little girl breathing heavily into a conversation with her adored big sister, "Trisha has some news for all of you." The family gathered around as I lay the phone down and tapped the 'speaker phone' button. "You're on speaker, Trisha. Everybody is here, go ahead." Later that night, in my bed, we all 'celebrated.' The End. Author's note: Well hot damn, I finished it. The original Word DOC I started this story in has a creation date of April 18, 2007. That's right, I spent 11 years writing this. I came back to this over and over again during that time, sometimes adding only a sentence or two before putting it back on the shelf and working on something else. You can see for yourself on my stories page, how many of those release and update dates fall within that 11 year span. Weaving it's way through working on them all was Daddy's Bed. I'd known for a long time exactly how it was going to end, and for the most part, it did end just that way with a few alterations. Knowing how it would end has always been a great indicator to me on if I'm going to finish something or not, and it really gives me motivation to push through the periods of creative doubt and anxiety that often come while writing. What really gave me that final, "get off your ass and finish it," nudge however, was feedback from somebody on my sorely neglected tumblr account. They sent me a message back in December asking me if I would ever finish it, and so I decided to do so once my other stuff in the pipeline was cleared away. So, let that be a lesson to you, that feedback works! I suppose it helped that I was pretty well into the final stage of this story too, but if you poke me with a stick, I just might jump. Be sure to head to the bottom of my stories page and check out the two "deleted scenes" for this story as well for some insight into Trisha's mother and a removed fashion show after Trisha gets home from her shopping adventure with Daisy and Krista. Thanks for reading, and feedback is always welcome. Hardguy 8=====>~~~ This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.