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Archive name: Bobbie.txt (mf, father/daughter, inc, ped)
Authors name: Edward (Address Withheld)
Story title : "A Letter to my Doctor"

  Dear Dr. VB: 

  I  imagine  that you will be surprised to  be  hearing 
from  a  man;  everything  I  have  read  lately   about 
incestuous  relations between fathers and daughters  has 
been  written  by  women, for whom  the  experience  was 
traumatic. No doubt their fathers did not find what they 
were  doing traumatic, or they would not have  done  it, 
but you won't be getting any letters from them! But, let 
me introduce myself: 

  I  am forty years old, an attorney - who  should  (and 
does) know what he is doing is against the law.

  An  avid tennis player, I am physically very fit.    I 
have  also been called handsome but however, my wife  of 
eighteen  years  apparently  didn't  find  me   handsome 
enough,  because  she left me a little over a year  ago, 
running  off with my partner, Richard, and most  of  the 
negotiables,   leaving  me  with  our   fifteen-year-old 
daughter, Roberta. 

  Needless to say, `Bobbie,' as everyone calls her,  and 
I  were  devastated  by my  wife's  abandonment  of  her 
family,  and  even moreso by the discovery  that  before 
leaving  town,  she  had `slept  around'  with,  I  must 
assume, her `favourite' corespondent. 

  For  the first few months after my  wife's  departure, 
I'm afraid I wasn't a very good father to our daughter - 
as  though if am now!  At any rate, I did not  take  the 
interest a parent should in the life of a teenage  girl. 
In other words, my supervision of her was quite cursory.  
Of  course,  I knew she was dating, but so long  as  her 
dates were from `our set', I didn't object. 

  Then, late one Sunday afternoon, Bobbie came home from 
a  supervised swimming party at a boy's house  and  went 
straight  to  her room. She was wearing a  long,  floppy 
sweat-shirt  which came down barely far enough to  cover 
her bottom. There was something I wanted to  ask her, so
I  rose from  where I had been  watching TV and followed
her. 

  Although  I always knocked before entering  her  room, 
since  it had hardly been more than five  seconds  since 
she  had entered it, that day I opened her door  without 
knocking and walked in a step or so. 

  Bobbie is sixteen years old, about five foot three and 
a  hundred and five pounds.   With  medium-length  dark-
blonde  hair and hazel eyes, her breasts are  about  the 
size  of oranges, her waist is slim, and her  bottom  is 
like  two halves of a small, round water-melon.    As  I 
entered, she was standing by her bed, half-facing in  my 
direction and in the process of removing it, had  pulled 
her floppy top up  so that her head was engulfed in  it. 
Below,  she  was  wearing the bottom  of  her  two-piece 
swimsuit  but  her  breasts  were  completely  bare.   I 
couldn't keep myself from audibly gasping at the sight. 

   When she heard my intake of breath, Bobbie pulled her 
top  down  so  she could see over  its  folds,  but  the 
jutting of her breasts prevented it from coming down far 
enough  to hide them completely.    Naturally,  since  I 
did  always knock before entering, her eyes showed  some 
surprise and she yelled, "Daddy!?" 

  I  tried - God, how I tried! - to divert my gaze  from 
her  half-nude body, but for a long moment I could  only 
stare  at  her. Then I said, "I'm sorry,  baby,"  and  I 
turned toward the door. 

  Before  I  could  go  through  it  though,  she  said, 
"Daddy,"  again,  and I turned back toward  her.     Not 
very  diligently, I'm afraid, Bobbie was now  trying  to 
pull  her  top down farther, but her bare  breasts  were 
still  nearly completely visible to me. Keeping my  eyes 
away  from  those luscious mounds exposed before  me,  I 
tried  hard to look into her eyes; she was blushing pro-
fusely. "The catch on the  bra of  my  swimsuit  broke," 
she  explained. "That's why I don't have it on under  my 
pullover." 

  "I  see,"  I  said,  and  then  saw  her  eyes   flick 
downwards.  At the sight of those lovely young  breasts.
I could feel my penis rapidly growing hard and realizing 
there  was  no way I could hide my  condition  from  her 
gaze, I turned again to the door. 

  "Daddy," Bobbie said again, and I turned back to  her. 
She  had abandoned her top, leaving her breasts in  full 
view.  "Do you think my breasts are pretty?" she  asked, 
and pulled her shoulders back  to enhance  their appear-
ance.  Not knowing what to say,  I gulped  deeply.  "You
haven't  seen  them  since  they developed.  I mean, un-
covered," she went on. "Well," she insisted, "do you?" 

  "Do I what?" I asked, my mind in a complete dither. 

  "Think  my  breasts  are  pretty,  silly,"  she  said, 
smiling at me. 

  "They're -- beautiful, Sweetheart,"  Glancing at  them 
again in spite of myself, to my dismay, I noticed  their 
nipples were now erect. 

  "Daddy,"  said  Bobbie in her gentlest  voice,  "Am  I 
giving you a problem?" 

  "Why,  no," I lied, but saw her eyes were fastened  on 
the  unmistakable bulge profiled in my shorts. Her  eyes 
rose to meet mine as she said, 

  "Are you sure?" 

  After the break-up of my marriage I had not engaged in 
sex  with  anyone, getting a job with a large  law  firm 
where the only women were either elderly secretaries  or 
the masculine-looking, hard-as-nails type with about  as 
much  sex appeal as a book of statutes.   Fear  of  AIDS 
prevented  me from even thinking of seeking relief  from 
anyone  else I came into contact with and  the sight  of 
the  half-nude body of my sixteen-year-old daughter  was 
reminding  me just how deprived I had been.   "Well,  of 
course  you are!" I almost shouted at her. "I am  human, 
you know, even if I am your father!"  

  My  daughter  smiled  at me  in  apparent  sympathetic 
understanding.  In hardly more than a whisper, she asked 
"Have  you   had sex with anybody since Mom  left?" 

  I shook my head. "The AIDS thing has . . ." 

  Bobbie  cut  off  my  stumbling  words.  Stating   the 
obvious, she observed, "Then you must be feeling awfully 
horny," I wondered where she had learned that word. 

  Somewhat defensively, I said, "Well, of course I  miss 
sex. I'm just not cut out for celibacy." 

  A  very serious look came over Bobbie's  lovely  face. 
"Do you want to do it with me?" she asked. 

  Interpreting  her question to mean she was  astounded, 
even horrified, that I was obviously sexually aroused at 
the  sight of my own daughter's body, I said,  "Darling, 
I'm  sorry.   Whether he wanted it to or not, the  sight 
of a beautiful young nearly-naked body like yours  would 
stimulate any man." 

  Understanding my disavowal, Bobbie shook her head.  "I 
wasn't condemning you Daddy," she said.  "I was inviting
you." 

  Unable  to believe my ears,  I stared at her,  speech-
less. 

  Her voice soft, Bobbie went one. "Did you know, before 
she went away,  Mom got me a prescription for the pill?" 
and  surprised,  I shook my head.  "Uh-huh,"  she  said, 
nodding  her head. "When I started dating and having  my 
periods.  Mom said they would help my  complexion."  She 
laughed.   "But  I knew she thought I'd probably  do  it 
with somebody before long.   I guess she thought I might 
have inherited her `hot pants' and she didn't want me to 
get pregnant. 

  "So,  I don't see why I can't help you  sometimes.  It 
isn't as though you're going to knock me up and have  to 
pay for an abortion." 

  I  was  aghast  at her suggestion.    "But  you're  my 
daughter!" 

  As  though that were hardly worth considering,  Bobbie 
shrugged her shoulders.   Pointedly looking again toward 
my  crotch,  she  said, "And a daughter ought  to  be  a 
comfort to her father.   Not a problem! 

  Bobbie  looked at me very seriously. "I  know   you've 
had a pretty rough time of it since Mother ran off.    I 
know men needed  sex every so often,  so wouldn't  it be
better for you to do  it  with me  than take the  chance 
of catching `some horrible disease' from someone else?" 

  When  I didn't respond, Bobbie was  insistent.  "Well, 
wouldn't it? You mentioned the AIDS thing, yourself." 

  Vehemently shaking my head, I said, "I'm not going  to 
take your virginity." 

  Staring  at me for a moment as though I  were  someone 
from an earlier century, Bobbie threw her head back  and 
laughed  lightly. "That's already been taken  care  of!" 
she said. 

  My  jaw  dropped open. I had not wanted  to  think  my 
beautiful  young  daughter might have already  lost  her 
virginity,  but  with  a  face and  body  like  hers,  I 
shouldn't  have been surprised. And I  certainly  didn't 
want to think she might have inherited her mother's `hot 
pants!' 

  Frowning  at my stunned look, Bobbie said, "Well,  I'm 
not a tramp! I've only done it three times, and with the 
same  boy. And if you're wondering," she went  on,  "I'm 
the first and only girl he's done it with. So you  don't 
have  to worry about me having caught some disease  from 
him." 

  My mind in a turmoil, I was still speechless and stood 
staring at her. After a moment or two, Bobbie reached up 
and,  finished pulling  her top off over her  head,  she 
slipped   the  skimpy  bottom  of  her  suit  over   her 
beautifully-rounded  bottom,  letting  it  drop  to  the 
floor. Stepping out of it, she turned to face me. At the 
top  of  her slit, the tuft of hair was  the  same  dark 
blonde as the hair on her head, but there was so  little 
of it I could see her genital lips disappearing  between 
her thighs. I groaned! She smiled sympathetically at  my 
discomfort - what an inadequate word! - and sat down  on 
the edge of her bed. Holding her arms out toward me, she 
said, "Daddy, I love you. Let me help you." 

  Now, Dr. VB, if there is a man alive who can walk away 
from  an  invitation like that from  such  a  delectable 
example  of female youth, I will eat his hat, his  coat, 
and his trousers! Yes, I succumbed, and daughter or not, 
I defy any man to say he wouldn't have done likewise!  I 
walked  -  no, staggered - to Bobbie and  kneeling  down 
before her, put my arms around her waist and my head  on 
those  luscious,  soft young breasts. Putting  her  arms 
around  my neck and pressing my cheek to her bosom,   as 
though  I were a baby in her arms, she rocked  back  and 
forth. Then putting her hands on my biceps, she urged me 
to rise. 

  Standing  me before her, Bobbie unfastened my  shorts, 
pulling  them  down so they dropped  around  my  ankles. 
Causing  my erection to spring upright not over  a  foot 
from  her  face,  grasping the waistband  of  my  jockey 
shorts, she pulled them down too. 

  Smiling  grimly  at her look of surprise,  I  thought, 
`Not the half-grown cock of some pimply-faced  teenager, 
is it, my sweet?' 

  Gingerly,  Bobby  took  my  penis  in  her  hand   and 
examining  it closely, moved it this way and  that.  "So 
that's where I came from," she said. And then she looked 
up at me and said, "Daddy?" 

  Thinking my cock being larger than she'd expected, she 
was  having second thoughts - and, if she did, I  didn't 
know if I could prevent myself from raping her!, I asked 
"What?" 

  "I  really am doing this just to help you," she  said. 
Bobbie lay back on the bed, her thighs spread  slightly, 
and smiled up at me. 

  "I  know,  Honey," I said.   Climbing in  between  her 
legs, which she opened wider to receive me, I removed my 
shirt and laid myself between them. 

  "What  I mean is, when you are feeling  really  horny, 
you  can come to me," Bobbie said. "But I don't want  to 
do it, like every night, just for your pleasure." 

  "I understand, Sweetheart," I said, and a smile on her 
lips,  Bobbie  lay back and waited for  my  penetration.    
Arms  up, hands beside her head on the pillow, her  body 
totally  relaxed, it was almost as if she were simply  a 
little  girl  again,  waiting for Daddy to  read  her  a 
story.  

  Approaching  her gingerly and placing the head  of  my 
penis  into  her slit, to my  surprise,  it  encountered 
dampness.  Bobbie's  juices were flowing, and  with  the 
lubricant  seeping from the end of my cock, I  was  sure 
entry  would  be no problem. Pushing forward,  my  penis 
slid in to about half its length and Oh, God! she was so 
tight!     Retreating an inch and pushed again,  it  was 
all  the  way  in her.  Probably because  my  penis  was 
larger than the other one she had experienced, there was 
a  flickering  of  her eyelids and  a  quick  intake  of 
breath, but then she smiled again. 

  Positioning  myself over her, I began  the  in-and-out 
movements.   Looking down her flat tummy and watching my 
cock, shiny with our juices, disappear into her and then 
reappear was the most fascinating sight of my life! 

  No  matter how urgent my need for relief, I make  sure 
my  partner enjoys her own orgasm, and  even  though  it 
had  been a `long time between drinks', I didn't  intend 
for  this time to be an exception.    Making long,  slow 
insertions  and withdrawals, moving a little from  side-
to-side  to stimulate the nerve-endings in the walls  of 
her  vagina,  I  made my  pubic  bone  massage  Bobbie's 
clitoris  when I was completely within her.    Realizing 
later  I was taking substantially longer than any  self-
serving  teenage  boy was likely to, I did  this  for  a 
considerable  time and then the expression on  her  face 
began  to change. A very thoughtful look appearing,  and  
clutching at the pillow slip on either side of her head, 
Bobbie  didn't seem to know what to do with  her  hands.   
Until  now, she had been lying perfectly still, but  her 
bottom  began  making  small,  jerky  moves  against  my 
middle.  Looking  at  me  with  half-closed  eyes,   she 
suddenly said, "Daddy?" 

  "What, Sweetheart?" I said, not slowing my pace. 

  In a high, quavering voice, she said, "Can girls  c-c-
come?". 

  Surprised, I stopped all movement and said, "Of course 
they can." I looked down into her face, and asked,  "You 
haven't had an orgasm when you've done this before?" 

  Closing  her  eyes, Bobbie shook her  head.  "I  don't 
know," she said. 

  "Oh  darling,  when  you have one,  you'll  know  it!" 
Resuming  my  in-and-out motions, in  a  still-quavering 
voice and almost as if she hadn't even heard my comment, 
Bobbie  continued, "But I'm feeling funnier and  funnier 
down there. 

  "Oh,  boy! Oh-h-h, bo-o-y!"   Bobbie's  arms  suddenly 
went around my neck, and she pushed her buttocks  upward 
in short, sharp jabs. "Oh, Daddeee!" she cried and as  I 
felt the muscles of her tight little pussy clamp  around 
my  turgid  cock,  I hit the  high-spot.  Cum  exploding 
through my shaft like bullets from a machine-gun barrel, 
Bobbie  clutched me to her breasts, her body shaking  so 
hard I was afraid for her. 

  And then she fell back, and I collapsed on top of her. 

  After  a few moments' rest, I rolled over  and  pulled 
her  head onto my shoulder. I kissed her cheek,  and  my 
lips  tasted a salty tear.   Truly concerned,  I  asked,  
"I didn't hurt you, did I, Precious?" 

  Bobbie  shook  her head and peeped at me  out  of  the 
corner of her wet eyes. "No, Daddy. It was -  beautiful! 
I  didn't  know  it could be  like  that."  Her  breasts 
rubbing  against  my ribs, she snuggled up  to  me,  and 
after a moment, put her lips to my ear. 

  "You  know  what  I  said?"  she  asked,  in  a  voice 
surprisingly  husky  for  her age, "I  mean,  about  you 
coming to me just when you were really horny?" I nodded, 
yes. "Well, you can forget that," she said. Then  Bobbie 
chuckled, almost to herself. "You can do that to me  any 
time you want!" 

  Figuring  they were just showing their ignorance,  she 
later  told  me she'd heard girls talk  about  `coming'.   
How  could a girl come, she'd wondered, if  she  doesn't 
ejaculate  semen?    Knowing it felt pretty good  to  do 
it,  Bobbie said, "But I hadn't expected  anything  like 
that!" 

  Having experienced her first orgasm, she has not  been 
shy about seeking repetitions. The `anytime you want to' 
has  become  anytime  she  wants  to,  and  that  is   - 
frequently! 

  What her former boy-friend thinks, I don't know  since 
she tells me that she has `cut him off' entirely.  And I 
don't  know  what is going to  happen in  the  future. I 
suppose  she'll  get  married one of these  days,  and I 
probably  will, too. But, for now, I just have to  admit 
that I'm not strong enough to resist Bobbie's youth  and 
beauty.  And enthusiasm! 

  Sincerely yours, 

  Edward 

  P.S.  So you won't think I have made all this  up,  or 
that  my daughter might have a different story to  tell, 
I'm going to show this letter to Bobbie and tell her she 
can add her own comments if she wants to, so - 

  Dear Dr. VB: I love my Daddy, and I am so glad that he 
gave  me my very first orgasm because I might  not  have 
ever  had  one if he hadn't. Well, I  guess  I  probably 
would  have,  sooner or later. Anyhow, I love  doing  it 
with  him!  And I really love it when he brings  me  off 
with  his tongue in my pussy! (I see he didn't tell  you 
about that, though! Ha, ha!) Yours truly, Bobbie 

  P.P.S. I promised her that I wouldn't change  anything 
she  wanted  to  add to the letter, so I  won't.  But  I 
notice that she didn't tell you how she can suck my very 
soul  out of me through my penis with her  sweet,  young 
mouth. (So there, my love!) 
 
  Edward 
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