I saw the fuchsia envelope on my pillow, 'Dad' hand written on the front. Reaching out I picked it up, suddenly nervous. Opening it, I pulled out the letter, thick cream-coloured papers handwritten in navy blue ink, script neat and compact. Turning, I sat on the edge of the bed, unfolding the papers. I started to read.

Dad,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't have the courage. This is the only way I know to tell you.

I tried so hard. I really did. I knew you didn't approve of those boys I've been dating. But Dad, you don't understand.

It's been hard. I know I've behaved badly and upset you. I really didn't mean to. You have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you, not you. But it was the only thing I could think of. I didn't know what else to do. It was wrong. I'm sorry. But I'd like to explain. I need you to understand. If you do, maybe you can forgive me.

First, I have to tell you that nothing ever happened with those boys you saw me with and heard about. Please trust me. I know it'll be hard, but please Dad, trust me. Nothing ever happened!

Second, I want you to know it's all my fault. I know it. I don't blame you. It was me, no one else, just me. I'm sorry.

I know I hurt you. You can't know how bad it felt to see the disappointment in your eyes. I'm sorry I lashed out. I'm sorry I hit you. I don't really hate you. I didn't mean it. I hope one day you can forgive me. I'd never do anything to deliberately to hurt you! Please, if nothing else, believe that. I wouldn't. I couldn't!

I need to explain. You see I was desperately trying to be good. I was trying to find someone. It wasn't your fault. You've been so good to me, really good. I thought I'd find someone to change me, you see? I was trying to be good, Dad!

I know you won't understand. How could you? But I couldn't help it.

Do you remember when I broke my leg? Do you remember how you stood in the emergency room, shaking and yelling at me? You were so, so angry at me. I know I was stupid. I know I should have looked before jumping off the bus. But God, Dad, you looked so scared! It hurt me how much you cared. It hurt deep inside, it hurt. I didn't know why and I didn't understand. I was crying because I scared you, not because you were yelling at me.

When you taught me to dance, do you remember? I was so worried about my first school dance. Dad, the way you smiled and told me not to worry, the way you made me dress up to give me lessons, telling me I'd feel more confident that way. You even turned the lights low to pretend it was the gym and dressed up for me! None of my friends' fathers did that. I even remember your aftershave, Drakkar, the one I bought you for your birthday. I don't think you understood how much it meant to me. I didn't like the school dance. None of the boys could dance right.

I tried, Dad. I really did.

I tried to ignore how you smiled so proudly when we won the volleyball tournament; your happiness and the way you swept me up and hugged me tight. It felt good. I was so happy.

You don't know this, but I saw you sitting in my bedroom all night when I had pneumonia. I felt you caress my cheek and I heard you whisper you loved me. It was so soft and so full of emotion. It reminded me of my nightmares when I was younger. Do you remember? You'd hold me against your chest sitting on my bed, rocking me and whispering, "Hush sweetheart, it'll be okay. Dad's here." I remember how comforting it was as I clung to you, I was so scared. I remember waking up and you were asleep on my bed still holding me. You smelled so good. I felt so safe.

I heard you, you know. I heard you whispering into the phone, arranging horse riding lessons just because I told you how much I wanted to ride a horse. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?

It just happened, Dad. It wasn't your fault. It was sudden and I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know how it would change me. I'd take it back if I could, but I can't. When you told me about the horse riding lessons and I saw the pleasure and love in your smile, I didn't mean to jump at you like that. I know now I shouldn't have wrapped my legs around you and hugged you. But, I really shouldn't have kissed your neck. I'm so sorry. But that's what's caused all this.

I couldn't get it out of my mind. I started dreaming of you. I tried to stop but I couldn't control my dreams. I tried to stay awake and couldn't. When I'd fall asleep you'd come to me, you'd hold me, you'd cuddle me, kiss me.

I know it was wrong to spy on you in the shower. But I wanted to see you. I wanted to see what you were like naked. It was wrong. It only made my dreams worse. I can't tell you what I dreamed. I'm ashamed, Dad. I'm sorry.

It wasn't your fault how I felt around you or how you smelled so good. It was mine. I couldn't help snuggling way too tight or putting my hand on your thigh. And every time I vowed to stop it only got worse! I kept seeing what I'd seen in the shower. I couldn't help wondering.

I realized how wrong it was. I knew it was bad. But it was like an addiction. I just couldn't stop! When I saw you blush - do you remember? That was really an accident. I swear. I didn't even think when I was sitting in your lap. My bum itched. I was only trying to scratch myself. But, God, Dad, it was so big. I had the most amazing dreams that night. That's when I decided I had to do something. I knew how wrong it was.

So, you see, I started dating. It wasn't that I was loose or a slut. It's not what you think. I was looking for you! I wanted to find you, someone just like you. I thought if I could my feelings would change. I was trying to be good! Honest.

All those boys, even the older ones, they never touched me. Not once! I wouldn't let them. I wanted to find the right one. I couldn't. I tried but I couldn't. They weren't you. They were nowhere even close.

I know you heard the rumours about me being loose. I know how it hurt you. I saw it in your expression, your disappointment. But not once, not once did they touch me.

I shouldn't have hit you and told you I hated you when you confronted me today. It wasn't true, Dad. That's the problem see? I love you. I was trying to be a good girl, trying to be your good girl, a good daughter.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't have the courage to tell you to your face. I just can't. I can't bear to see the disappointment in your eyes again. It hurts, Dad, it really hurts. This is the only way I know to tell you.

I'll try to change. I promise. But, I just know I can't. So I'm going to say sorry now.

Please forgive me.

Your loving daughter,

Sarah

I had been wrong. I had misunderstood. I hadn't trusted my daughter. It was unforgivable.

I stood in her doorway, letter hanging from my fingertips, arm at my side. I saw my beautiful daughter looking at me with such shame, with such fear. I saw her pain. My princess hurt.

She was so pretty. I loved how she'd blossomed and become a woman. But she was still my princess no matter how old.

I didn't know what to do. How could I ease her pain? Didn't she know how much I love her?

I sat next to her, put my arm around her. My heart broke when a single tear slipped over her lashes. I brushed it away with my thumb, her cheek so soft.

"Hush sweetheart, it'll be okay. Dad's here."

I kissed her forehead gently, wrapped her in my arms rocking her, holding her tight.

I don't know what made me kiss her. It might have been the love and yearning in her eyes when she looked up at me. It might have been how beautiful she was in my eyes. I don't know. All I know is her lips were so soft, so warm, so receptive. She felt good in my arms. I liked the way her arms circled my neck. I liked feeling her lips move.

I don't know why I didn't stop her when I felt the tip of her small tongue touch my lips. It should have shocked me but it didn't. It only made me hug her tighter and pull her closer to my side. I don't know why I did it. I liked her quiet moan. I liked the way she caressed the back of my head. I liked the way she tilted her head and pulled my lips harder against hers.

I liked her warm tongue pushing between my lips, it felt so good. I should have kept them closed. I didn't. It felt good kissing my daughter. It felt good having her tongue in my mouth and it felt good sucking it gently.

I liked how she held my face and looked at me intently. I liked how she said, "I love you, Dad." I liked it.

I liked the way she pulled me with her as she lay back on her bed. I let her draw me into another beautiful, intimate kiss. I liked it. I don't know why, but I liked it. I liked her taste. She was so fresh and sweet. I liked how she opened her mouth. It was so warm and moist. I liked feeling her gently sucking my tongue. I felt it all the way to my toes.

I didn't stop her when she took my hand and placed in over her breast. It felt good. It felt young and firm under her blouse. I felt her bra and it excited me. I'll admit it excited me.

I know I should have stopped myself. But I didn't. Her petite breast felt so wonderful, it fit into my hand so well. I shouldn't have rubbed her nipple, but I did. I shouldn't have caressed her breast, but I did. I couldn't help myself; the passion of her kiss was so arousing. I liked hearing her murmurs. It excited me.

I'd forgotten how arousing it was to slip a hand under a blouse. I'd forgotten how thrilling it was to feel a youthful breast encased in a bra. It had been so long. I liked how hard her nipple felt, such a contrasted to the soft resilience of her breast, so sensual.

I liked her sigh and how she put her hand over mine. I liked my daughter's gentle pressure and guidance as led me to the bra clasp. I hadn't lost my touch. I liked how exciting it was when it popped open and snapped to her sides. Her skin was so silky. My little girl had remarkable breasts. I liked the gentle round fullness below with a soft sweep upwards. It made me wish I could see. I shouldn't have let my thumb scrape across her nipple but I did. I liked hearing her groan and watching her pull away.

I shouldn't have found her, my daughter, so sexy. But I did. I'd forgotten how thrilling it is to see someone reveal them self to me for the first time and how trusting it was. I think her shy smile only made it more exciting. It only aroused me more. I shouldn't have found my daughter so desirable. I should have stopped her then. But I didn't. She had a beautiful sixteen year old body. Gracefully slender with soft curves and flares in all the right places and proud breasts that rode high, she was youthful maturity in all its perfection. I'd forgotten how alluring teenagers are. I'd forgotten how desirable youth could be, how arousing.

I loved her shy smile as she slipped her panties down. I had forgotten how thin and soft looking pubic hair was at that age. I liked her dark blond pubic bush that dusted her so sensually, yet thin enough to see beneath. I shouldn't have gasped. It only encouraged her. I could see it in the sparkle in her eyes and how her smile broadened. I felt it when she started unbuttoning my shirt, a need burning inside.

I didn't even try to hide my erection when she slipped my underwear off. I know, I should have, but I couldn't. She had me in a trance. I left the last of my morals by the wayside as I fell under my daughters spell.

She felt too good when she pressed her body to me. It had been so long since I'd felt how sexy skin contact could be; too long.

My hand trembled slightly from nervousness. I hadn't touched a naked teenage girl in longer than I could remember. I knew so much more now.

I knew how the soft touches and gentle caresses could excite. I knew how light kisses on a nipple could build passion. I knew how a gentle caress of pubic hair could make a young girl strain and moan. I knew how to slip my fingers through silky pubic hair, how to lightly trace a cleft and how to draw moisture up to reduce friction on her clitoris.

I knew how to read the signs. I knew how her gasp and body movements signalled an imminent climax. I knew her calling "Dad," and holding my arm as I caressed her clitoris was a sign she was near. I recognized the rosy flush that appeared on her chest when she strained off the bed and clamped her trembling legs closed, trapping my hand. I recognized the signs of an intense climax. It made me feel good to see her pleasure, very good.

I remembered how to cuddle and kiss lightly. I remembered how to nibble a lower lip and let arousal return slowly. I remembered how a soft kiss on closed eyelids could stir love. I remembered how gentle suction of nipples brought back their stiffness and how a simple loving kiss on a slender neck could cause sudden passion.

Her caress felt familiar on my erection. Her thumb gently massaging the tip felt familiar. It drew a familiar reaction. I remember how thrilling it was to feel a soft hand spread wetness over my crown. Her kisses on my chest and the tip of my erection felt so good.

I'd seen desire like that before. I'd seen the sign of need. I watched my daughter lay back with passion in her blue eyes. I watched her spread her legs and reach for me.

I let her guide me over her and settle between slender sexy legs. I felt her pubic bush on my stomach and her youthful breasts on my chest. I felt her passion through her tongue. I relished her warm hands stroking my back. I felt so aroused.

I shouldn't have, but I did.

I reached down and touched her virginity. I felt her heat and moisture. I felt how small she was. I knew she'd expand. I knew it would hurt my princess, yet I probed gently and heard her moan.

I slowly raised myself. I moaned at the delicate touch of her fingers as she guided me. I moaned at the delicate touch of her labia.

I let her pull me by my waist, let her pull me towards her heat. I let her pause and pull again. I watched tears collect and the smile fade when I slipped into her incredible warmth. I waited for her and groaned in pleasure at her silkiness and youthfully tight grip.

I watched my daughter's smile return. I watched the shine of happiness and pride grow in her eyes. I felt her feel me below with a gentle clench. I watched pain flee and arousal return. I felt her confidence as she pushed up slightly. I saw her eyes widen when I pushed slightly.

I liked how our eyes were locked together as we moved in slow, gentle and hesitant movements. I liked how my daughter pulled my waist and how her arms pushed her tender young breasts together. My arms were trembling with strain as we slipped gently together, youthful pubic hair touching my groin.

I loved how Sarah held me. I loved how her arms held my back and how she pulled me down into a passion-filled kiss. I loved how her vagina held me in a velvety warm, tight embrace. I loved feeling her heart beating in her chest and in her vagina. I loved it.

I shouldn't have, but I did.

I felt her passion strengthen through her tongue and in her pelvic movements. We moved slowly at first in counterpoint to each other. As I slipped almost out of her moist velvet embrace she gasped and pulled me back suddenly. I loved it.

I knew the signs. I knew what her rhythmic pelvic movement meant. I knew what the gentle pressure of her hands was for. I responded with smooth strokes that sent bursts of pleasure through me. I loved it.

As I held her slim shoulders, as she held my hips, we writhed and thrust in the time-honoured dance of love. We writhed and thrust together, keeping pace with our accelerating heartbeats. We rubbed our groins together and stroked harder and faster, sharp gasps and bodies slapping wetly. I loved it.

I knew the signs. I recognized her heated breath, her panting, her moaning and hugging me as she called out, "Dad."

I recognized the pressure in my groin, the tight feeling in my testicles and called out, "Sarah, Sarah."

Heaven announced its arrival. My daughter cried out, her hips thrusting hard at me, jerking and losing their rhythm. Her legs gripped my thighs, shaking. Heaven announced its arrival with a painful straining of my erection and a surge of semen exploding deep inside her tight embrace. Heaven sang as we came together, as I surged and exploded in my daughter's warm clasp. I came hard, pulsing hot, thick semen into her with every desperate thrust of joy. I heaved and groaned with the pleasure of each sweet release, chasing more, thrusting desperately, cumming in my little girl, cumming hard.

I shouldn't have, but I did. I loved my daughter.

It took a long time for us to catch our breath. I lay atop my daughter until calm and peace returned. Her petite sweaty and panting body felt good under me.

It shouldn't have, but it did.

As I sat on the side of her bed I looked at my sixteen year old daughter sleeping with a soft smile on her pretty face. I noticed my semen leaking from her slowly. I had forgotten how fertile sixteen year olds were. I had forgotten how easily they became pregnant.

I loved Sarah. I shouldn't have, but I did.

Leaning down I picked up her letter from the floor and slipped in into the envelope. I decided I wanted to save it. Our children would find it interesting.