She hesitated, hand on the doorknob. What if she'd misunderstood? What if she'd read something that wasn't there? Her confidence slipped, hand falling away from the doorknob. Backing up without looking, she sat on the edge of her bed. In an automatic gesture she combed her fingers through her long chestnut hair, pushing it back over her head to tumble down her back in a heavy wavy mass, the final move, a familiar curl to push hair behind her small ears.

The room was dark, light from a streetlamp providing a glow, weak, unable to reach the corners but strong enough to make a small white-gold stud in her earlobe glint. She shivered, not from the temperature, but from the doubts assailing her, unwelcome thoughts stealing into her consciousness. She suddenly saw rejection. She suddenly felt embarrassment. God, if she was wrong she'd die of shame, she thought. Yet thinking back, picturing his face, she'd seen the surprise, the wonder and the awe play though his gorgeous eyes, his beautiful, intelligent brown eyes.

Looking up at him she'd seen something new, a previously unseen expression in his kind eyes. It had made her quiver, her stomach drop. Yes. She was sure, she'd seen something new. It had changed her; she felt different; everything was different now.

It was a strange condition to have, this need felt deep inside. It felt right, wrong, exciting, scary. It felt like she was standing on the precipice of a cliff, one foot poised in the air, ready to step off. Would she fall? Would he catch her? It was a strange condition to feel, trepidation, elation, desire, and fear, her heart squeezing, beating too hard, butterflies in her stomach.

Had he felt it, too? Or, was it just in her imagination?

He lay quietly in bed, blue flickering light from the muted TV giving his bedroom a ghostly aura. He lay quietly, probing, questioning; desperately trying to understand. How could it have happened?

Car headlights washed across the ceiling, an engine growing and fading, that strange Doppler shift changing the motor's pitch. Distracted for just a moment, he tried to identify the make, a test of his knowledge. Ford. Not a car, a truck, F-250, the unique whistling rumble of a PowerStroke diesel was unmistakable.

The distraction faded, worry stealing back at him. What had he done? Had he done it deliberately? Replaying the evening he found no intent, no inkling, no forewarning. There had been nothing that was different, that stood out, that broke their long-established routine. And yet it had happened. Something had changed; an invisible barrier had been broached. The world had tilted slightly, just enough to give everything a new perspective.

He felt the battle in his soul, morality fighting to maintain tradition, retain norms, to keep life on an even keel. He felt the battle, large honey-brown eyes peering into his mind making his heart trip, his world tilt. He felt different, slightly detached, the rest of the world somewhere else as if distorted by a gossamer curtain.

It was a strange condition, this fusion of emotions, of unsettling, unexpected reactions, the departure from the normalcy of life that had been his rock. Had she done anything? Was there an invisible signal? Had he inadvertently sent a silent signal, one even he wasn't aware of? What had changed? Something had. Everything was different now.

It was a strange condition, feeling protective, jealous, ashamed; feeling such intense love, sudden need, illicit desire. It was a strange condition, this physical response usually felt only for others. It was a very strange condition, seeing her as someone else, a person, a female, an attractive, sensual, budding beauty.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she sighed, her heart skipping as she replayed it. His warm hand, large hand, caressing her stomach almost absentmindedly as she sat at his side, his warmth and presence so familiar, bringing peace and relaxation, comfort. Resting her head in the crook of his shoulder she'd been able to hear the dull thud of his heart, a hypnotically rhythmic sound. A feeling of love had suffused her. In perfect detail she replayed it, that one magical moment that seemed to freeze time.

She had turned slightly, wanting to speak, mention something now unremembered, perhaps love, perhaps something seen on the television. He had moved slightly, not much but enough, as if adjusting his position, perhaps restless, or reaching for his drink. His large hand had grazed her breast, brushed against her nipple just as she looked up into his familiar, loving eyes.

Everything changed in that instant, everything. His warm, sexy eyes widened. Her nipple puckered up from his delicate touch. Her breast grew heavy and an ache started deep in her belly.

Everything had changed in that instant, everything. His look of wonder sent chills through her. She wondered what his lips might feel like, how soft they might be. His scent was suddenly strong, filling her with a spicy, male muskiness that she felt all the way to her nipples. His eyes, his familiar eyes were suddenly so sexy, so warm, so desirable. She felt them look into her soul, felt the radiant heat of them blossoming inside her. She'd felt flushed, hot.

She'd stopped breathing, couldn't, the air too thick. She'd placed her hand over his big hand, holding it in place, pressing it to her gently, her breast aching for his touch. Everything changed. In that instant he was more, so much more than a father.

She'd felt the loss when his hand pulled back. She'd heard him, "Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to."

Her mind had screamed, "Put it back!" Instead, she'd smiled. "S'okay, Dad," she said softly, the ghost of his touch still felt after it slipped away, her nipple still taut, still tingling.

It wasn't okay. She'd felt strange, disembodied. It was a strange condition to have, to want and desire, to feel a magnetic attraction to the forbidden. It was strange to suddenly see someone, see the most important person in her life as he was, as a male, handsome, gentle and caring, so full of love.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she felt need coursing through her. She felt need; the need to see him look at her again with that look, the one that sent hot shivers through her. She felt need, a need to be held in strong familiar arms, to be cuddled, oh, to be kissed, those soft sexy lips touching her.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she wondered if she had the strength, the courage. What if she was wrong?

He lay in bed, a sense of discomfort permeating him as if there was no position that could ease his soul. It was a strange condition, fear battling desire. He replayed it in his mind with absolute clarity. He remembered every single detail.

He'd been thanking his good fortune; a house recently paid off, a successful career, and better than anything in the world, a daughter he was so, so proud of he actually hurt. He'd been thinking of how much he loved her, how fortunate he was, a sudden urge to hug her overcoming him. He'd felt like he should thank her for being her, for being his daughter, for the pride she gave him, the joy that lit up his life, for how rich she made him feel.

As he started to hug her, she'd turned, her pretty face looking up at him. His hand slipped, rising up and over a petite unfettered breast, his daughter's breast, firm, upright. Under the cotton t-shirt he'd felt her nipple harden. He'd shuddered when her hand covered his, pressing it to her as if she liked his touch.

He'd watched, enchanted, as her soft honey-brown eyes widened in surprise. His heart had thumped when a shy smile grew on her pretty, pretty face, a beautiful rosy blush appearing.

Everything changed in that instant, everything. He felt a reaction, a physical reaction, an emotional reaction. It was a strange condition to have, a stir of interest, new feelings for her, a daughter seen through new eyes. He'd pulled his hand away, apologized, and sat completely preoccupied with the wonder that was adolescent puberty, the amazing beauty of her eyes, a look in them that shook him to his very soul.

She had had a look of wonder, of awe, and something more; something he'd never seen before.

As he lay in his bed, he wondered what that look was. Heat flushed through him, his penis twitched. Was it desire? Had he seen desire in his daughter's expressive face? Suddenly the room was hot. He felt a flush of shame as he became erect, her pretty eyes haunting him, the feel of a petite, remarkably well formed adolescent breast in his palm. He shivered as he remembered the feeling of a small hard nipple, an unidentifiable look in her eyes.

Oh God! It was adoration! That was it; his daughter staring at him with adoration in her eyes. He trembled when a powerful surge of love tore through him, his little girl not so little, his thirteen-year-old suddenly grown up. God, she was becoming a lady!

Need pulsed within him. It was a strange condition, new, unfamiliar, unsettling. He needed to see her, a desire to hold his child in his arms, feel her, hug her, breathe in her aroma. He felt the tug of desire to look into those soft, sexy eyes, to see her adoration again. But had he mistaken? Had her reaction been one of forgiveness for his inadvertent touch?

He pictured it again, every detail, his body reacting to her sweet innocent sexiness. Another shudder shook him. He remembered the flush in her face, not embarrassment, not shame or discomfort. No. Pleasure. It had been shy pleasure at his intimate touch.

His heart thumped. Could it be? He needed to see her, lay eyes on her. Dare he?

Quietly, with a rustle of sheets, driven by a powerful need to see his daughter, he slipped out of bed, the hardwood floor feeling cool on his feet. It creaked and groaned with his passing. The blue flickering glow from the TV let him see where he was going, even though he didn't need to. His hand paused over the doorknob. What if he was wrong?

She sat on the edge of the bed, her heart beating hard. Desire gave her courage, tamped down her fears. The ghostly feeling of a warm palm on her breast made her nipples ache, tender, sore. A pang of desire flowed through her body from her breasts to her pussy, arousal gently clouding her trepidation, suppressing it, encouraging strength, belief, faith.

One hand absentmindedly played with the white-gold ear stud, the other fiddled with the hem of her night T-shirt, Dad's soft cotton T-shirt she'd stolen from the laundry.

She pictured his face, his handsome face, his soft sexy eyes, the love she'd seen, the wonder and awe at touching her. She felt older, more mature. It was a strange condition. He'd made her feel prettier, desirable. She remembered his lips, the gentle curve, how much she wanted to kiss them.

Inhaling deeply, she nodded to herself, decision made, courage returned. She stood, the hardwood floor feeling cool through her ankle socks. Walking to her door, she reached for the doorknob, paused, breathed deeply to calm her nerves, and opened it.

The hall was dark. Moonlight filtered into it from a gossamer-curtained window at the end, giving the hall a ghostly pale look, colors muted, washed out.

He stepped out, his feet resting on the silk Persian runner carpet. His soft gasp echoed in the silence of the night. She was pale, slender, ghostly, her legs bare under a night T-shirt. In the moonlight her thick chestnut hair appeared almost black, pulled up and back over her head, cascading down her back. He knew it was long, touching her rear; he could see it behind her waist. He saw the glint of an ear stud; white-gold winking, a gift for her thirteenth birthday. Her small socks seemed so lovely, feet so dainty, small ankles, slender young legs. But her shadowed face looked at him, eyes looming large, surprise giving way to apprehension.

"Daddy?" she said softly, her hesitant voice echoing in the hall.

He seemed so big to her, so solid, his bare chest so broad. In the moonlight she could see his chest hair, seemingly soft. She noticed a sexy line of hair running from his navel to the waist of his boxers. She shuddered when she saw an outline of his penis, her nipples puckering in excitement. She stopped herself from reaching up to squeeze them.

Her eyes moved back up. A pulse of arousal hit her. His face. Dad's face! The coolness of moonlight couldn't hide his expression. It sent shockwaves through her. She wasn't wrong! God but he made her skin burn with the heat of his look. She watched, entranced, as a look of wonder appeared. It made her tremble, such adoration in his sexy eyes, such want. He wanted her. Dad wanted her!

"Daddy?"

"Kristen?" he whispered, frozen to the spot. Lord, she was an angel, beautiful, her expectant expression making his heart ache. He spread his arms, reaching out, his heart soaring as she smiled and ran towards him, her long hair shimmering and shaking, his pretty, pretty daughter throwing herself at him, pretty face glowing with pleasure. His heart ached, chest feeling tight.

Wrapping her in his arms, he luxuriated in the feel of her warm youthful body pressed to him. He inhaled her gentle scent deep into his lungs and sighed, his nose buried in her hair. "Baby," he whispered. He could feel his little girl trembling.

Bending, he scooped her up effortlessly, so surprisingly light and slender. Turning, he carried her to his bed, laying her down gently as if she was made of the most delicate china, the most precious thing in the world, his little girl, so pretty. Large honey-brown eyes looked up at him, adoration piercing him. He saw excitement, pleasure, youth, glorious puberty. He saw an angel, saw sensual lips, a shy expectant smile. He saw his daughter reaching up for him, her arms open in invitation. He saw the T-shirt climb up her thighs, a peek of white, her panties just visible. He inhaled sharply, the gusset rounded and full, starkly visible in a sexy gap between slender thighs.

She looked up at him, so tall, so handsome standing over her. She'd experienced attraction, Richard's sexy good looks at school. She'd experienced desire, Ashton Kutcher joining her sexual dreams, her touching, part of her climaxes. She'd experienced love, Dad showering her with it ever since she could remember. But she'd never experienced the devastating power of all three combined, attraction, desire, love. It made her breath hitch, her chest tight. It made her want to cry, Dad's expression so intense. It made her want, desperately want. Love hurt! It hurt!

She trembled with desire when she noticed his erection, the tent in his boxers. Daddy wants me! She reached up, suddenly needing him, wanting him pressed to her. She wanted to be held, loved, oh, to be kissed. "Come, Daddy," she invited, smiling at the spark of excitement in his eyes, his languid smile. The bed dipped with his solid weight, forcing her to roll slightly towards him. She smelled his sexy, musky scent, all man, her pussy throbbing pleasantly.

He rose, leaning over her, his face smiling, such pleasure, such love it made her heart ache. She reached up, cupping his cheeks, unshaven, rough, male, my Daddy. She pulled, staring at his lips, wondering what they'd feel like pressed to hers, Daddy kissing her. A shudder shook her. "Please, Daddy?" she whispered.

He sighed, melted at her plea, her honey-brown eyes expanding to encompass him. Her touch thrilled him, so gentle, her desire so intensely exciting. He stared as her mouth moved, a shiver of anticipation coursing through him when she pleaded, her hands pulling gently, her full lips slightly parted, heat in her expression, my sweet girl aroused! Bending, lips touched.

The earth tilted at the feel of her silken lips. An earthquake shook his world when his daughter's small tongue hesitantly touched his lips. He fell, disoriented, like falling down a well, drowning in the sweet seductiveness, the surprising forwardness of his daughter, his tongue touching hers. He moaned seeing her eyelids close, seeing his daughter lose herself in the kiss, so, so sexy. His erection strained at the sensuality of the illicit kiss. God, I'm kissing my daughter!

She murmured, her nipples sore, small breasts feeling heavy, achy. She squeezed her thighs together, her pussy throbbing, moisture beginning. She slipped her arms around Daddy's neck, pulling his delicious lips tighter. She murmured again when she opened her mouth for him, tasting his tongue, a hot kiss, so horny now, Daddy. She wanted to hold her pussy, tweak her nipples, her body crying out for a touch. Kissing Daddy was so much better than she'd imagined, so much sexier. Did he like her kiss? Was she doing it right? Was her first kiss good?

He broke the kiss, too intense, too exciting. He could feel the sexual tension thrumming in his body, the strain of his erection, and the burning desire to touch her, feel her private places, those places he wasn't supposed to desire. He could feel how close he was, the erotic allure too much, tugging at his restraint, testing his mettle, eroding his discipline. Looking into her eyes, his thumb caressing a silky soft cheek, his daughter looking at him with such intense love, such adoration, his heart hurt. "God, Kristen," he whispered in awe. "You're so beautiful. You're so gorgeous."

Heat suffused her. She glowed. Daddy likes! She drowned in his adoration, his heated look. Turning her cheek she pressed it into his palm. "I love you, Daddy," she confessed. "Just you." She saw it again, that look of wonder, so appealing, so satisfying to her, a look that gave her confidence. Gently she took his large hand, smiling softly. "Here, Daddy. It aches here," she said, guiding his hand back to her aching breast, to where it should be, back where it had felt so good. She sighed with pleasure at the weight of his hand, his intimate touch, his groan of pleasure. She moaned at his exciting caress, his gentle exploration, the light pinch of a nipple. Arching up from the bed she sought more. Please Daddy, harder.

His arm shook as he gently felt her breast, still so petite, so young, so firm, rising seductively off her slender chest, so beautiful. He felt slightly lightheaded and, when his daughter moaned at his caress, at his gentle pinch of an engorged, taut nipple, he succumbed, bending to kiss her sweet lips again, a storm of desire for his daughter flooding him.

She shocked him. She grabbed him around his neck, tugging him, her mouth opening, small tongue shoving into his mouth with surprising force. He sucked it. She gasped, broke the kiss, her eyes opening, the burning passion in them stunning him. "Under, Daddy," she panted, reaching down for the hem of her nightshirt. She wiggled, tugged, writhed, "Help."

Rising to his knees, he helped her remove her nightshirt. When she collapsed back on the bed, her long chestnut hair spread across the pillow, beautiful eyes watching him, a soft, sexy smile on her face, and a slight blush gracing her cheeks, he felt like his chest would explode. Lordy, she's an angel. His gaze drifted down from her beautiful face, across her stunningly arousing adolescent breasts, perfect mounds, and across her flat thirteen-year-old tummy to her panties. Soft white cotton stretched across from proud hip to proud hip like a suspension bridge, a gap at the waist teasing him, shadowed, promises of ecstasy within. Soft white cotton mounded, a pubis pressing, rising from her stomach in a spectacular upsweep, curving seductively, narrowing and plunging down between slender thighs.

He gasped at the faint shadow on her mound, a slight distortion of pubic hair. He trembled when she slowly parted her legs, the incredible shape of her pussy revealed in all its glory by tight white cotton, the slight depression of her cleft, full vulva, oh Jesus, a dark spot of moisture in the gusset; my sweet girl's arousal!

"God, sweetheart," he moaned, dizzy, lightheaded. "You're spectacular." She was.

The shyness she'd felt, blushing at revealing herself to Daddy this way, faded in face of his utter amazement. His eyes shined with awe, burned with the intensity of his adoration. Oh yes, Daddy likes! She saw his erection twitch inside his boxers, heard the wonder in his hushed voice, felt his desire like heat waves radiating from him. She felt proud, proud he liked what he saw, proud her developing body could excite him, make him horny. Oh! I'm making Daddy horny! Her petite breasts ached, nipples wanting to be touched again, rubbed, teased, soothed with a kiss. She could feel damp arousal in her panties. She wanted. She wanted Daddy. Reaching up, she tugged at his arms, sighing with pleasure as he lay down next to her.

"Kristen," he sighed. "I never knew you were so. . . beautiful."

She held her breath. Daddy bent. His lips touched her nipple sending a charge of arousal right to her pussy. His kiss was soft, warm, lips pressed to her breast. It felt so good. And then he opened his mouth, took her breast into his mouth, his tongue caressing her nipple, suction. Oh God, suction.

She felt his large hand rest gently on her tummy, felt suction, her nipple aching, stiff, sensitive, pleasure suffusing her. Her heart thumped. Heat radiated. She started breathing harder, her hands rising to comb through Daddy's thick hair. A surge of arousal flowed through her body when his hand slipped down, over her panties, Daddy's hand cupping her pussy. Yes, Daddy! A tremor made her twitch, Daddy's finger tracing her slit so gently, finding her clit, caressing, so good Daddy.

She felt pressure build deep inside her, aching, intensifying. His gentle mouth on her breast and rough tongue teasing her nipple made her ache more, need, want, his hand caressing her pussy driving her wild. So much better, so much better than her own hand. Then he moved to her other breast, squeezed her pussy, rubbed her clit through her panties harder. Passion hit, hot, hot, aroused, moisture flooding, so close Daddy. Almost there.

She gasped,"Uh." Her body twitched. She pressed his mouth harder against her breast.

"Uh." Her hips curled, pushing herself against his warm caressing hand. Pressure, beautiful pressure.

Oh God. "Daddy!"

It was uncontrollable. Her orgasm slammed into her, hips surging off the bed, body rigid, painful. Stars exploded behind her closed eyes, orgasmic pain charging through her, her entire body cramping. Another wave hit, "Uh," glorious pleasure, glorious pleasure. Her legs snapped closed, body twitching in orgasmic ecstasy. "Oh God!" Another wave hit, pussy exploding, bliss, bliss Daddy! Her body writhed and shook as her climax tore through her, utter bliss drowning her, sounds fading, body straining, cumming, cumming, warmth flushing through her, fading, fading, calming, so tired.

He cuddled her, stunned at how erotic an adolescent climax could be. He felt her heat, her petite body twitching with fading waves of pleasure. He cuddled her close, so slender and slight in his arms, studying her face, such beauty, a sheen of perspiration so sexy, long, long eyelashes, cute nose flaring with each breath. He drowned in her sexuality. My girl cumming so hard. Spectacular. Simply amazing. He held her, his erection throbbing and ignored.

"That was beautiful, Kristen. So beautiful," he whispered, kissing his daughter's damp forehead gently.

There was quiet in the room, a father intensely taken with his daughter, his love stronger than ever, thankful for her gift; for letting him experience her ecstasy, the beauty of adolescent sexuality, the stunning eroticism of youthful orgasms. A father lay peacefully, his mind filled with the memory of taking her petite breast into his mouth, the firmness, resilience, and responsiveness of young nipples. A father lay with an erection, still absorbed by memory of feeling a daughter's plump, young pubis in his hand, its fullness, warmth, the sexy shape, seductive curve, and a small erotic spot of moisture deep in the gusset. A father lay quietly, slightly bemused at his good fortune, his chest filled with love, his darling in his arms, peace in his soul, feeling rich beyond compare.

There was quiet in the bedroom, the flicker of blue light from a silent television the only illumination. A daughter snuggled into her father's side, her heart still thumping, peace and calm permeating her body from an intense orgasm, body relaxed, tension finally eased. She inhaled deeply, drawing the unique scent of her father into her, imprinting it on her brain. A daughter slowly recovered from the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, marvelling that it was Dad who had given her so much pleasure. She replayed the intense love and desire in his eyes as he had gazed at her body. A shudder passed through her.

She opened her eyes, face pressed to Dad's side, arm over his chest. She snuggled closer wishing she could climb inside him. She let her fingers play with the soft hair on his broad chest. "Thank you, Dad," she sighed. She felt his response, his arm hugging her tighter.

Remembering the line of hair that ran from his belly button to his boxers, she let her fingers trace down over his stomach, seeking and finding his navel. She probed it with her fingertip for fun before tracing the soft, soft hair down, feeling where it disappeared under the elastic of his boxers. With a wistful sigh, she traced her fingertips back up, then down again, this time letting her hand slip over the waist, a memory of his erection coming to mind. Excitement mounted as she probed.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his erection inside his boxers straining up off his stomach. She heard him inhale. "Can I touch you?" she asked softly.

"Of course you can, sweetheart."

With infinite care she traced it, large, long. It twitched under her fingers as if it had a life of its own. She traced it down, wondering what it would feel like, her fingers sensing the opening of his boxers.

"Can I touch you inside?" she asked softly, her fingers probing at the opening.

"Anything you want, honey. I'm yours."

She smiled, raised herself and looked into his sexy warm eyes. "Thanks, Dad," she said softly, moving up to kiss his lips gently. She felt his hand hold the back of her head, pressing her lips to him in a gentle, loving kiss. She parted her lips, her tongue slipping out to touch him, a moan escaping when he sucked her lower lip. She felt a renewed twinge of arousal, surprising her.

Breaking the kiss, she settled back, her hand still at his boxers. Carefully, she slid her hand into the opening, nervous, trembling at the feel of a soft, rigid rod, excited; this was Dad's penis, Dad's erection. It was warm, the skin soft. She'd often wondered how erections would really feel. Now she knew. It felt amazing. She wondered what it felt like to Dad. She traced up the shaft lightly, felt a ridge. She touched his crown, Dad was circumcised. Ever so gently, she let her fingertips trace across the flared tip, smiling when it moved, pulsed, jerking slightly.

A tingle of excitement built as she moved her hand down. How thick was it? Would she be able to hold it in her hand? How hard should she hold it? Would it hurt Dad? Would he like it? Excitement made her heartbeat accelerate. She took a deep breath, curled her fingers, amazed at its thickness, hard, a steel rod with a soft covering. She tried to picture how thick it was, her fingers not meeting, too big. "It's so big, Dad," she whispered in awe.

A groan broke the silence, a throb made his erection jerk. She squeezed it gently.

"Kristen, baby," he sighed with pleasure.

She heard the arousal in his voice, thrilled by it. She was touching Dad. She had Dad's erection in her hand! Gently, carefully, she moved it, slowly working it out of the gap, bringing it out. She looked down, clenched her thighs together, squeezing her pussy. Jeez it was big. She knew what to do, schoolyard whispers coming back to her, stroke it, guys like being fondled, being jerked off.

She stroked softly, gently, stroked once. Nothing, no response. Looking up, she saw him watching her, his expression intent, pleasure in his sexy eyes. She trembled when he smiled at her, felt his hand on her bare back caress her in encouragement.

"How do I do it, Dad? Show me. Please?"

"Like this, sweetheart," he said, his hand covering hers, demonstrating how to stimulate him, stroke him, how hard to grip.

Cuddled to his side, her knee resting over his leg, her cheek on his chest, his warm hand caressing her bare back, she felt excitement steal back, a twinge inside. Her complete attention was devoted to holding his erection, excited, her first feel of a cock and it was Dad's! She was absorbed, riveted by its rigidness, its thickness, yet so soft to touch.

"Is that semen?" she asked innocently, seeing a bead of clear liquid appear at the tip, oozing out as she stroked him gently, so carefully.

"No. It's precum," he answered, his voice somewhat husky. "It's slippery, lubrication."

"Can I touch it?"

"Of course you can."

It was silky, she decided, as her thumb spread it around the tip, almost like her moisture. She smiled with pleasure at his moan, his erection jerking slightly. She spread it on his shaft, stroking slowly, gripping, relaxing, stroking, her pussy aching again. God, she was playing with Dad's cock! Fondling Dad! She'd never have believed how sensual it was, how thrilled she'd be, how proud she'd feel that she could give him pleasure. She'd never understood how giving pleasure could be so satisfying, so exciting, so arousing, but it was!

He tried to make it last, the erotic pleasure of having his gorgeous thirteen-year-old stroking him, bringing him off, was intense. He tried to tamp down the surge of arousal as he watched her delicate hand hold his cock, how his daughter's hand couldn't encompass his girth, how that excited him so.

He tried to breathe deeply, make this nirvana last. He tried concentrating.

His hand caressed the silky skin of her back, his fingertips brushing the waistband of soft cotton panties. He felt her cuddled close, warm, his daughter almost naked, her petite breasts pressed against his side. He felt her knee resting on his leg, imagined her plump pussy pressed against his side. Excitement surged.

He watched her small delicate hand stroking him, felt her gentle hold slide effortlessly on his rigid shaft. His heartbeat accelerated when she collected more precum, her palm swiping across the tip, then spreading it, her gentle hand gliding along his straining shaft, caressing, touching, loving, his erection swelling.

He wanted to warn his daughter, let her know how close he was. He couldn't.

"This is nice, Dad," she whispered, squeezing slightly, thrilled at the thought she was touching Dad, holding Dad's cock, stroking Dad. Would he cum? Would he ejaculate? What would it look like when it came out? What did semen feel like? "I like your erection. Are you going to cum, Dad?" she asked heatedly, excitement and inquisitiveness in her voice.

"Oh God," he gasped, his hips curling up. "Careful, Kristen."

Too late. His climax hit, erection swelling, pressure building, building. He grunted, hips shoving up, thrusting his erection through her fist. Pleasure erupted, his heart pounding, semen charging up his shaft. She squeezed! Utter bliss hit, cum released, spurting hard, semen jetting out, arching up to land on her cheek. He saw it land and another huge surge of ecstasy hit. God, he'd just cum on his daughter!

"Oh Jesus, Kristen," he groaned, cock swelling, semen jetting out hard, hard, sweet bliss, sweet bliss. The gates of heaven opened. Reaching down, he guided his daughter's hand, thrusting up, fucking her hand, cumming, hot semen landing on his stomach, slipping down his shaft to cover his daughter's hand. He moaned, exquisite pleasure punishing his body, toes curling, cumming hard, cumming hard. He rode exquisite bliss, gasping when it finally, finally released him, collapsing, drained, peace, peace, heart thumping.

Shifting on the bed brought him back, Kristen slipping away from his side. He opened his eyes. She smiled, so pretty.

"I'll get a cloth to clean up," she said with a blush.

In the bathroom she studied her face, wiping Dad's pearlescent semen from her cheek. It had shocked her, the power, the force, how hard Dad had spurted. She'd never expected that. Washing her cum-covered hand, she replayed Dad's agonized gasp. He'd gripped her butt when he started to cum. She smiled. His climax was amazing, so surprisingly strong.

Reaching for a hand towel, she rinsed it under warm water. She felt pride; proud she'd been able to excite him so much, proud she'd been able to give him so much pleasure. Squeezing the excess water from the hand towel, she inadvertently wondered if she'd be able to feel him cumming inside her. She flushed red, embarrassed by her thought, yet a pulse of arousal made her clench her legs together, a pulse of arousal she felt all the way to her nipples. An ache returned to her breasts.

Would they make love tonight? Would she have sex tonight for the first time?

He looked like he'd fallen asleep, resting, eyes closed, his face at peace. A shadow of disappointment passed over her. She studied his face, felt a flush of love, my Dad so handsome. His eyes opened as she knelt at his side and gently washed his chest, stomach, his flaccid penis. His soft, sexy eyes looked at her with such love, such adoration her heart ached. A smile appeared. She shuddered.

"You were amazing. Just perfect, sweetheart," he whispered, his hand rising to caress her cheek. "Thank you."

Her heart skipped a beat. She smiled at his compliment, pride flushing through her. Dropping the towel at the side of the bed, she crawled in, nestling to his side, sighing with pleasure as his strong arm gathered her, rolling her, pulling her close, closer, my Dad. She snuggled to him, inhaled deeply, peace and contentment descending. Fatigue drifted in, tired from an intense climax, tired from intense emotions, from trepidation, the unknown. All was resolved. All was good. My Daddy. She heard his rhythmic heart beat against her ear, a dull regular thud, reassuring, calming. His hand caressed her back. Covers were pulled up.

She relaxed, let sleep steal in knowing everything was fine, everything okay, everything now right with her world. She smiled, this strange condition, excitement, attraction, arousal and love, now welcome.

He lay quietly with his beautiful girl cuddled to his side, her light breath stirring his chest hair, calming him. He hugged her slightly harder, his love, his daughter, smiling when she murmured in her sleep, cuddling closer, giving him a gift, the gift of her love. He felt blessed.

Sleep crept up. He smiled again. This strange condition, love and desire for his daughter, felt good, felt right. It was perfect.

Morning light suffused the bedroom. A father and daughter were tightly entwined, legs crossing each other, a father's arms hugging a young daughter, a daughter burying her head into his chest. Morning light gradually intensified, brightening the room.

He woke, smiling, the familiar, attractive scent of his daughter surrounding him in pleasure.

She woke, completely rested, cuddled to him, manly, musky aroma filling her senses, her body reacting, nipples tightening slightly, heaviness growing in her groin. She smiled to herself, her face buried against his big chest, his arms holding her so gently, so carefully. Daddy.

His heart burst with love when she murmured, snuggled, rubbed her face on his chest, his sexy little kitten waking up. A face turned up, soft, warm honey-brown eyes peering at him, seeing into him, seeing his adoration.

"Morning, Dad," she said, smiling.

Love hurt, he decided. "Morning, gorgeous," he answered with a smile and a hug.

A relationship fourteen years in the making had irreversibly changed that night. Small signs were evident at breakfast, adoring eyes looking at a father, a father smiling with pride at the attention of a bright, happy daughter, a small hand resting on a muscular forearm to emphasize a point, a large hand caressing a soft cheek, or gently caressing a slender back. Smiles exchanged; knowing, accepting, pleasure shining, love burning, a shared secret.

A new relationship formed through the day, close, intensely personal, two people isolated in their own world. A daughter couldn't keep her eyes off a father as they shopped for groceries, couldn't stray out of sight, needing physical contact regularly, an addiction, as if to reassure herself it was real. Small blushes came and went, coinciding with her intimate thoughts and memories, remembering a father's love, his sexy touch, his large erection, remembering waking up in his arms, so strong, so handsome, and thoughts of sex, sex with Dad. How good would that be?

A father luxuriated in the adoring attention of a nymph, a beautiful young girl. His love ached at her sweet seductive blushes and soft, loving eyes that stared into his soul. He suffered, growing partially erect every time he remembered petite breasts, perfectly mounded, pale pink areolae, tiny beaded nipples. Her T-shirt draped on her as they shopped, emphasizing her alluring adolescent body as she moved, walked, hugged his arm. He reacted to her slender body, her intoxicating pubescence, jeans outlining the perfection of her compact rear, how it moved, undulating, his daughter suddenly walking with a sexy swing he'd never noticed before.

That day a sexual tension permeated the air, adoring looks, shy blushes, and delighted giggles at the illicit caress of a bum when no one could see, a sly brush against a boob, Dad wanting her.

That day a father rejoiced in the joy of youth, the sexiness of youth, the attractiveness of adolescence, the allure of a pubescent daughter. He let her shy forwardness, small touches, the rub of a small breast against his arm, and her gentle hip bumps wash over him, thrilling him, his girl so attractive, such a sexy little kitten. He lost himself in her sweet attention.

That day a daughter let her dreams out, dreams of her and Dad, always together, Dad's loving eyes forever warming her, only her. She let her delight out, giggling at his gropes of her bum, his subtle rubbing against her boobs. She basked in his adoration, felt a constant state of arousal, her man; Dad, my man! She stared at him when he wasn't watching, planning, plotting, smiling, secretly thrilled as she imagined how she was going to seduce him that night.

That day two people found joy in each other's presence, found excitement in their budding attraction and the exquisitely arousing promise of intimacy to come.

That night after dinner, while watching TV, sitting side by side in increasing excitement, a daughter slipped from her father's arms, standing.

"I'll be right back, Dad," she said, bending to kiss his cheek gently. His adoring, sexy smile sent shivers of pleasure through her.

He sat quietly, enjoying the strange condition he felt, anticipation of intimacy with his beautiful thirteen-year-old, a lack of fear, the absolute certainty it was destined to be, consensual, two people in love. He enjoyed this strange condition, excitement not felt since his youth, wondering what it would be like to make love to such a young girl, thrilled by the illicitness, incest suddenly so exciting.

His breath caught in his throat, thoughts fading away. She was stunning, standing in the doorway, his large T-shirt draping on her slender body. She was stunning, adolescent perfection, long slender bare legs, bare feet, long, long chestnut hair glowing with health, a shy expectant expression on her pretty face, honey-brown eyes big, watching for his reaction to her attempt at sexy, alluring.

She was gorgeous, a nymph. His reaction was immediate, uncontrollable, an erection forming at her innocent beauty. Lordy, his young girl so sexy! "Kristen," he whispered, "you look so . . ."

She glowed, her heart racing. His look thrilled her, the stunned awe, his desire so clear in his eyes. She loved his reaction, her Dad excited, turned on, erect. Daddy wants me! Blood rushed down to her groin, her pussy throbbing. She wondered if he could see she had no panties on. She wondered what he'd do if he found out.

Grinning at her naughtiness, her forwardness, her sexual actions, she lifted the hem of the T-shirt, slipping it up her hip slowly, watching him intently. Higher, slightly higher. Her grin broadened at the way his eyes stared at her, widening, anticipation, hot. She saw it, saw the moment he realized she was naked underneath. She saw his breath whoosh out, saw him gasp for breath, his eyes darting to her face, a smile slowly curling his sexy lips, God, Daddy so handsome.

She giggled when he growled at her, turned and ran when he squinted and took a step towards her, pure hunger in his intense eyes.

He stared at the empty doorway, sweet giggles echoing through his mind. He stared at the empty doorway, still in shock, an erection pulsing in his pants. He stared, not seeing what was in front of him, his mind, like an old theatre, replaying a silent movie, a nymph standing, eyes glistening with mischief, a T-shirt hem rising at her hip, slowly revealing . . .

Suddenly he exploded into action, shutting the TV off, turning lights off, his mind completely distracted by a memory of a daughter's pussy peeking out from under the hem, and a dusting of chestnut pubic hair. His minx was naked under that T-shirt, his T-shirt. She was seducing him! Kristen! His young daughter teasing him!

Fire burned in his blood as he charged out of the family room, following the echoing giggles. They faded away as he reached the top of the stairs. Without thought he headed for his room.

Breath whooshed out again. His daughter smiled, covers pulled up to her chin, honey-brown eyes twinkling with pleasure.

"Look," she said, her arm emerging, a T-shirt tossed to the floor. His growl and the intensity of his expression hit her hard, arousal storming into her. Look at that. I made Daddy aroused again! Her giggles returned, seeing him suddenly grin at her, a sneaky grin, shucking his clothes, tossing them left and right. Her giggles faded at the sight of his erection, large, throbbing, inflamed, standing out starkly from his pubic bush. She clenched her thighs together involuntarily as she imagined where it would be going, hesitation, apprehension, and trepidation suddenly worming in. Could she? Would it hurt a lot? Too much?

He'd reacted spontaneously to her playfulness, a kitten, teasing and toying with him, deadly attractive, stunningly arousing, his cock straining. He'd felt his heart swell at her giggles, so powerful, so youthful, my daughter, God, that's my daughter.

Tearing off his clothes, desperate to get naked and throw himself into bed, hold her, pull her to him, kiss that gorgeous smile, touch her, fondle and caress, he stopped short at the sight of honey-brown eyes growing wide, giggles fading as apprehension emerged. She was staring, he saw, staring at his cock.

"Sweetheart?" he asked, suddenly worried.

"It's . . . so big, Dad," she said softly, shyness in her voice. "I . . . I've never . . ."

It took his breath away. In the heat of the moment, with her playfulness and forwardness, he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten her youth, that she'd never had sex, was a virgin. He'd forgotten how apprehensive one could get the first time. He imagined it was only worse for a girl, having to face possible pain before experiencing joy.

"Oh, honey," he sighed, slipping in, gently pulling his daughter into his arms, her soft, naked body pressing against him. "Sweetheart," he whispered, his lips pressed to her hair, "it's okay. We don't have to."

She turned her face up, looked at her father, stunned by the care in his voice, the consideration. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, studied his soft eyes, love shining. She felt a tremor, love pouring through her, gently easing her fears. This was right, perfect. "I want to. I'm just . . ."

His smile burned her. She quivered as he bent, pulling at her gently, drawing her towards his mouth. Her eyelids closed of their own accord when his lips touched hers. She heard herself murmur, felt her nipples react, pressing them against his chest. She slid her knee up and over him, trembling when it slipped over his thick erection. She moaned, pushing her tongue into his mouth, arousal storming into her, body shaking, need building, an ache blossoming deep in her belly, pussy moist, throbbing. God, his kiss was so arousing.

He struggled, trying to remain calm in the face of a writhing, sensuous, sweetly innocent young girl kissing him hard, her small tongue probing into his mouth; a young girl stroking his aching erection with her thigh. He struggled to remain calm as he held a perfect buttock in one hand, caressing, finding the crease separating it from its twin, tracing it down. He shuddered at the warm moisture that touched his fingertips, the tickle of soft pubic hairs; his daughter's pussy. His heart pounded as he felt his daughter's arousal, so silky and slippery. His body trembled, precum leaking when his sexy girl moaned into his mouth, clutching at him, curling her sweet bottom to press herself back against his fingers. Nothing had prepared him for how sexy it was, how phenomenal it was, how utterly beautiful it was to have his daughter aroused, horny, wanting him, wanting her father. And then it got better.

Silky soft labia parted slowly, his fingertip suddenly warm, wet. A beautiful nymph murmured into his mouth, broke the kiss, gasping, "Daddy," her head falling to his shoulder. He probed gently, feeling his little girls cleft, slipping his fingertip through its moist warmth. A wave of dizziness hit when he touched her clitoris, a small bump nestled between plump labia. Sweet Jesus, I'm touching my daughter's clit!

She groaned, clutched at him, her arms slipping around his neck, holding on, holding on, shaking with arousal, so horny Daddy. Moving her bottom, she gasped as his fingers found her clit, a strong pulse of arousal charging through her, pussy clenching, nipples aching, all fear forgotten. She needed, her body crying out, now urgent desire flooding her body. Rising, she straddled his waist, knees to either side, bending, leaning down, arching forward, "Please, Daddy," she begged, pushing her petite breasts towards him. "They ache so much."

As his mouth covered one, his large hand the other, she held his head, pressing his mouth to the ache, sighing, pleasure radiating as he sucked gently, his tongue teasing, toying, playing, so good, Daddy. Little tremors shook her, breasts growing heavy, flushed. She moved, inhaled sharply, Daddy's shaft scraping along her pussy. A burst of pleasure hit. She did it again, pleasure blossoming in her pussy, his rigid erection pressing along her slit. She did it again, and again. A rhythm started, hunching, a stab of pleasure, hunching, another stab of pleasure. She felt his hand on her bottom, cupping a buttock, pressing, guiding, a rhythm set, hunching, pleasure, humping Daddy! So good.

He was drowning, sensations overwhelming him. His child's petite breast felt amazing in his mouth, so young, so firm, so perfect, yielding reluctantly, a nipple taut, deliciously chewable. His hand teased and caressed another small breast, thumb pad scraping across a taut, beaded nipple, his daughter's body shaking. His other hand held a perfect adolescent buttock, firm, sensuous. An angel undulated on him, stroking his aching erection with her pussy, precum spreading, her heat and moisture massaging his shaft. Her moan excited him beyond control.

He was drowning, desire thundering through him, wanting to roll over, take her, thrust into her, penetrate heaven. Her murmurs, her undulations, her fingers combing though his hair, were assaulting him.

"Baby, stop," he gasped, letting his head fall back from her breast to the pillow. He gripped her slender hips, holding her, stopping her from humping him, too close, too near to losing it; far, far too aroused.

Her face peered down from above, a question in her flushed face, eyes on fire with need and arousal, pert breasts, rosy areolae now swollen, engorged, so, so sexy.

"Sweetheart, if you don't stop, it's going to be all over before we start."

She grinned, his heart contracting, so stunningly desirable.

She felt pride flush though her. She'd made him almost cum, made Daddy almost cum! She watched his eyes narrow as she grinned again, hunched on his thick erection again. "Then shouldn't we start?" she asked, fears now forgotten, aroused, so horny, so incredibly aroused. His groan thrilled her, his smile so sexy, eyes looking at her with such desire.

"Okay," he whispered, his hands slipping up over her buttocks. He pulled her down to his chest, her face on his shoulder, small boobs pressing against him. Lifting her bottom, his erection rose. As he let her down, the tip of his erection slipped along the cleft of her pussy and between her buttocks. He felt her grind her pussy into his groin, heard her murmur, felt her excitement in arms that slipped around his neck. His fingers explored, tracing a slippery cleft, feeling silky, sparse pubic hairs, so erotic. Fingers explored, sensing the sexy shape of her vulva, plump labia parted, her warm moisture slippery. Fingers explored, testing and probing, finding her clitoris, caressing, teasing, a daughter moaning, her hips responding, humping slightly.

His heart beat faster. Fingertips probed, finding her urethra and then, a small, small opening, his daughter's vagina, impossibly small, excitingly small, the pad of his finger larger than the opening. She groaned and pressed back against his finger.

"I feel it, Daddy," she whispered, pressing, hunching, pressing.

He hadn't planned it, but her hymen seemed to melt, the tip of his finger slipping in, hot, velvety, his fingertip held tight, so damned tight.

"Jesus," he sighed, his erection throbbing. Gently, so very gently, he caressed her, sliding his fingertip in a fucking motion, slipping in to the first knuckle, out, slipping in, out. She responded, moving in counterpoint, sighing, her breath hot against his neck.

"Ready, honey?" he asked, feeling her nod in response, face pressed to his neck. Her pussy clung to his fingertip, reluctant to let it go. Holding her sweet rear, her legs spread straddling his body, he used his fingertips to guide his the tip of erection, slipping it down between soft buttocks, down further to nestle to her pussy, heat at the tip, warmth, excitement making his slippery precum ooze out.

He felt her shudder at the first touch, heard her inhale, felt her press back, his crown flattening, pressing against her small entrance.

"Gently," he whispered.

She pushed back again, his crown flattening, precum lubricating. He hunched gently and suddenly, suddenly, her too-small entrance stretched, oozing over tip, stretching, stretching more. His daughter whimpered quietly. He paused, his crown half way in. She shook with tension, her arms almost strangling him.

"Relax, honey. We're almost there."

"It hurts, Daddy," she whispered tremulously.

"Shhh, relax. Just relax, sweetheart. There's no rush."

She sighed, breathed deeply, relaxed. His erection popped in, pressure suddenly abating as the crown was held in a tight, snug, velvety grip.

"Oh Daddy," she sighed.

He held his child, erection throbbing, held in the tight vice of his daughter's pussy. He held her gently, her warm body against him, waiting for her, prepared to withdraw, to proceed, to do whatever his angel desired. Seconds passed. Seconds turned into a minute, then two. She sighed, melted some more, her legs straightening to slip down his sides. She raised her face from his shoulder.

He watched as his thirteen-year-old stared into his eyes as if looking into his soul. He watched a smile bloom, pride appear, love glowing.

"It feels good," she said, smiling, reinforcing it with a clench of her pussy.

God she was tight. Wrapping his arms around her slender body, hugging her to him, he smiled and rolled. She lay on her back, long chestnut hair spread over the bed, gorgeous honey-brown eyes looking up at him with such love and adoration. He raised his body, inspecting this angel under him, her petite breasts so widely spaced, so youthfully pert even on her back, sexy pink areolae, nipples now soft. He inspected, openly, appreciating the glory of her youth, her beauty, her pubescence. He studied her flat stomach, how her hips were so prominent, the seductive swell of her buttocks pressed against the bed. He shuddered when he saw her pussy for the first time, his erection swelling, the crown still tightly lodged in her.

"I felt that," she said with a smile, then, with a grin she clenched her pussy.

He groaned, his attention drawn by her small bush of silky soft, glossy pubic hair, how it seemed to make her mons seem larger, fuller, plump. He felt feverish at the sight of his daughter's cleft stretched around his shaft, at how erotic it appeared, his adult erection penetrating her, her reddened clitoris pressed to his shaft. Jesus, he was penetrating his daughter!

"So sexy," he murmured, cock swelling. Unable to stop himself he pressed forward slightly, shuddering at the sight, too arousing, too sexy.

Dizziness hit, his erection slipping in slightly, so tight. He pulled back, her labia stretching to hold his shaft. He thrust again, gently, precum mixing with her moist arousal, two inches gliding into a snug heaven.

She reached up for him, arms outstretched, her knees rising at his sides to cradle his hips.

She was so petite, so slender, so young, so perfect in his arms. She hugged him as he lay on her carefully, her face buried in his neck, the soles of her feet caressing his calves. She was slender, delicate, perfect in his arms. She slowly curled her pelvis up, seeking him, inviting, encouraging, wanting more. He slipped into heaven, her pussy tight, gripping him, moist warm velvet surrounding his erection. She moaned, her legs rising, heels at his thighs, her arms hugging.

"More, Daddy," she urged, feeling his erection pressing, stretching her, her clit throbbing as it rubbed on his erection. A need, an ache burned deep inside her. She needed it stimulated, her body yearning for more. She wanted Daddy, all of Daddy, completely, fully, Daddy stretching her, filling her.

She ached for him, deep inside, need burning, aroused. The pain had been beautiful, arousing, exciting. Feeling her taking Daddy inside had been stunning, excitement and pride filling her. But now she ached for something else, for pleasure, for release.

Now she ached to feel Daddy's erection in deep, rubbing, penetrating her, Daddy loving her. She clenched, hugged, arousal storming into her. Her legs encouraged, pulling. "Daddy," she sighed.

He groaned, his erection sinking in to her velvet grip, slipping deep, deep. As her pussy pressed to his groin, as her pelvis curled up to meet him, he felt the tip touch her deepest part, his erection completely sheathed in his beautiful girl, completely penetrating her snug pussy. Her moan excited him, encouraged him.

Gently, slowly, he withdrew, smiling at how she clutched at him, amazed at the exquisite feel of his erection slipping out, her pussy clinging, reluctant to let him go.

"No, Daddy. Don't," she moaned, sighing as he reversed, plunging deep, filling, stretching her.

Her mouth sought his, her tongue thrusting, imitating him, her hips curling, encouraging.

A rhythm emerged. He stroked into his daughter, long gentle strokes, burying his aching erection as deep as he could in heaven, clutching her slender body to him. He fucked his daughter, his lover, one hand gripping her buttock, the other on a slender hip, hunching, fucking, need building. God, so good, so tight.

He fucked his daughter, thrusting deep, urgent, need building. He fucked his sexy girl, waiting and hoping she'd cum, his own release near, a rising tide of need.

Then he felt it. It started in her arms, clutching at him. He felt it on his thighs, her heels tugging insistently. He heard it, her moans evolving into cute little panting grunts that excited him even more. He felt it in her pelvis urgently slapping up to meet his thrusts. He sensed the desperation, sensed her chasing her climax, undulating, panting. It thrilled him beyond measure.

"Kristen," he whispered, fucking her, fucking her. "Cum with me."

Her response was immediate, explosive.

"Daddy!" she gasped, her pussy clenching.

Her slender body went rigid, legs straightening. She froze, her body pausing, breath held, hips lifted up off the bed. For one exquisite moment there was total silence.

"Oh Gawd!" She collapsed, her little body writhing and humping as her orgasm washed over her, pussy clenching, arms desperately gripping him.

He fucked his little girl as she convulsed under him in the throes of her climax, her grunts so cute, so arousing. He fucked her, plunging deep, hitting her end, fucking his darling, fucking, God fucking his daughter.

It hit. With the force of tsunami his climax crashed into him. He shoved deep, burying himself, pressing his straining erection deep, deep, all the way inside her. A sledge hammer hit taking his breath away, pressure releasing. He groaned out in ecstasy as semen erupted, exploding from his aching cock, shooting into his daughter in a blinding pulse of pleasure. Lost in the fury of an intense, intense orgasm, he thrust again, gripping her slender hips, spurting deep, hot wetness flooding his crown, aching, almost painful release, pleasure assaulting him.

His climax raged over him, thrusting, fucking my girl, fucking her, spurting, spurting, glorious release, God cumming baby. He heaved, cum shooting, toes curling, bliss, utter bliss, fucking her, so beautiful, so good, so good, collapsing with relief as his climax crested, releasing his rigid body, shuddering, drained, empty, peace finally suffusing him.

Perspiration coated them as they lay together. A daughter felt her heart gradually calm, still stunned by the force of her orgasm. She'd felt Dad ejaculate, felt his hot semen inside her. It had intensified her orgasm for some unknown reason. She hugged him to her, liking the feel of his weight on top of her. Feeling his erection fade made her feel proud. She'd satisfied him, she'd had sex with Dad! How good was that?

As his erection faded away, she felt him slip out of her, leaving her feeling empty yet happy. Warm semen slipped from her, sliding down between her buttocks. She didn't care. She was holding Dad. She'd just made love with Dad, her first, her only, of that she was certain.

A father, feeling his cock slip from her velvet grasp, sighed and rolled off her slender body, a deep satisfaction pervading him. He replayed her climax. His daughter had cum with such abandon, with an intensity he'd never before experienced. It was thrilling, simply thrilling.

Reaching out, he wrapped her in his arms, pulled her close, drew the covers up. He inhaled, filled his lungs with the scent of Kristen, of young girl, of sex, of love. The way she cuddled, snuggling into him, made his heart ache, his little kitten so sexy.

"Okay, honey?" he asked.

A cute snore answered him. With a smile, he let sleep steal in, enjoying a strange condition; a feeling of completeness, of total happiness.