Daddy?

by

Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Consensual, Fiction, Incest, Father, Daughter, First, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Erotic Sex Story: I was just sixteen when my daughter was conceived. As a single father, how do I stop her making the same mistake her mother made? How do I protect my baby girl from the pussy hounds out there?

Daddy?

I was making the evening meal while my fifteen-year-old daughter was finishing off her homework at the kitchen table.

She let out a deep breath and closed her books.

"All done, Daddy!"

"Well done, sweetheart, I'll be a few minutes yet."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, punkin?"

"Will you sign this permission slip for me? Pretty please?"

"What's it for, honey?"

"I want to join the junior cheerleader squad. All the coolest girls at school are signing up, and I don't want to be left out."

I sighed, and signed. My little girl was sure growing up fast!

She stashed the slip and her books in her school bag and put it by the door, to be ready in the morning.

"You do realise that I'm STILL not going to let you date until you're sixteen, don't you?"

She put on her best pout, despite it not having worked on me for years.

"Aaaawwww! Daaaaddy!"

"Nope! And I want to see the official practice timetable, so I know when I'll have to pick you up from school."

"Okay, Daddy."

I may be overprotective of my little girl, but I have good reason to be.


"Daddy?"

"Yes, punkin?"

"Can I go to a sleepover at Melissa's this Friday? Please?"

"Just let me phone Mrs Willis and check that she's okay with it first."

"Aaaawwww! Daaaaddy!"

"Shall I tell you why I'm checking, honey?"

"Why, Daddy?"

"How old are you, Mary-Lou?"

"Fifteen and one half, but you know that!"

"And how old am I?"

"Errrm – thirty two?"

"Thirty two and four months. So how old was I when you were born?"

She thought for a moment. Mental arithmetic was always more difficult than math at school with a calculator.

"Sixteen years and ten months!"

"Correct. So what age was I when you were conceived?"

"Oh shit! Sixteen and one month!"

I let the bad language pass without the usual challenge. My little girl was about to learn some home truths; she needed to listen closely to what I was saying, without any resentment at being told off for swearing.

"And your mother was nearly a year younger than me, so almost the age you are now. She was at a sleepover with my sister, our parents were away, she was dared to climb into my bed in the middle of the night, and hey presto, we made you!"

"Oh god! I never worked that out!"

I'd had to marry Teresa once everyone realised that she was knocked up, of course, and if the two sets of parents hadn't rallied round and helped us, we'd both have had to drop out of high school. Luckily, we'd been able to keep studying, I'd got myself qualified as a CPA by working as a book-keeper by day, and doing night school and a correspondence course.

Fifteen difficult years later, I now made a good living.

Teresa, though, hadn't been prepared to wait that long for things to get better; she'd run off with a married work colleague ten years before, and left me to bring up Mary-Lou as a single parent. My divorce for desertion went through without any fight, as did the custody order. She didn't get any alimony neither; the judge didn't like mothers who abandoned their children.

I'd never heard from the bitch since, though I still saw a lot of her parents – they'd done nothing wrong, and they adored their granddaughter. They had given me something of a social life whenever they volunteered to have her to stay over, but after Teresa's betrayal I didn't do much serious dating. My ability to trust a woman was gone.

My sister and I hadn't seen eye to eye since then either; once it came out what she and her friends had been up to at sleepovers, she was pretty much grounded until she was eighteen and went off to college. She'd married her college boyfriend and didn't come home much; our parents went to them for Thanksgiving and other holidays, so Mary-Lou had only met her aunt and cousins a couple of times, like at my parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary party.

"That's why I'm calling Mrs Willis to check that it's A-OK with her!"

I went out to a bar for a drink the night Mary-Lou was over at the Willis place; but after a couple of beers I came home. I was in no mood to make the effort to try and get laid, and I was out of practice anyway.

When Mary-Lou returned home the next morning, I told her that I'd missed her, but I was glad she had enjoyed being with her friends. That earned me a hug.

She said that she'd had a real good time at the sleepover; they'd watched girlie movies in their pajamas and chatted for half the night until Melissa's Mom came in and made them turn out the lights.

When I told her that she could invite her girlfriends for a sleepover in return, she squealed with delight, hugged me again, and then looked at the calendar.

I survived the sleepover invasion; was amazed by quite how much junk food and soda a supposedly health-and-figure-conscious bunch of teenage girls could get through, and was rewarded by Mary-Lou with a new willingness to share in the chores. I'd passed some kind of test by allowing her to have her friends over, and she saw it as being treated as more of a grown-up.

I admit that I had found a houseful of teenage girls in pajamas a distraction; they may have been only fifteen, but some of their bodies were more mature than that. I tried not to look more than I had to, telling myself that now I was twice their age they were most definitely jailbait. It was a relief when they were safely out of the house.

She stayed over with Melissa a couple more times; Melissa came to us overnight and for meals as well. I was real pleased that Mary-Lou had found a good friend; it had been kinda lonesome for her as an only child of a single father. Melissa was a nice kid, polite and helpful, and her folks became friends.


"Daddy?"

"Yes, punkin?"

"I'm sixteen next month – so can I start dating?"

I felt my heart drop within my chest.

My little girl was about to be exposed to boys.

I knew what I'd been like at sixteen, a real pussy hound, after anything I could get. That's why I hadn't even bothered to ask Teresa if she was protected; I'd just fucked her because she was in my bed. The first I knew of her being a virgin was the blood on the sheet the next morning. She got knocked up on her first time, poor bitch.

"We REALLY do need to talk first, honey. I don't want you to ruin your life the way your mother ruined hers."

"What do you mean, Daddy?"

"You've had the Sex Ed classes at school, haven't you? I know that they say that you should save yourself until you get married, but trust me, honey, when you get together with a boy who wants to get into your pants, it will be real difficult to refuse. And getting knocked up when you're still at school is bad news. Your Mom never got over it."

"So, what are you saying, Daddy?"

"We're still best friends, hey?"

"Always!"

I got her to sit down on the couch next to me.

"Okay, then let's assume that you are going to have sex at some stage, even though I hate the thought of my little girl growing up so fast, so we'll take you to the doctor and get you a contraceptive implant. Then at least you'll be safe from an accidental pregnancy. But I want you to let me know when things get serious, and then I'll buy you some condoms. There are some nasty STIs out there, and I want you properly protected. THEN you can start dating."

She looked amazed that I had caved so quickly.

"But, honey, first I have to talk to you about love and sex, and the difference between them."

Her face took on that unhappy look that appeared whenever the conversation between us got a bit too serious for her liking. At least she no longer just screamed 'Eeeeeeewww' when I raised the subject of sex.

"Daddy, do we HAVE to?"

I ignored the dangerous impulse to let her remain a child for a while longer; I knew from our own experience how risky ignorance could be.

"If you want to date, then yes we most definitely do."

"Okay then, but I still think that you're not playing fair."

"It's too important to worry about fairness, Mary-Lou. Just sit down again and listen."

It was a real simple lecture. I told her how it is. I just thought of all the lines that I had used to get into girls pants and pussies – like 'you can't really love me if you don't want to make love' – and told her about them.

"Just remember, baby girl, that your hormones will do their darnedest to betray you. They're programed to make you reproduce as much as you can, but these days you do actually have a choice beyond 'just say no'. I'll be the first to admit that sex is great fun, but for you women, there are consequences. We guys just fuck, flee and forget. Your Mom was left holding the baby, but at least I stayed with her. A lot of guys don't."

I don't think she liked seeing that side of me, but hey – it was for her own good. I'd tried real hard not to use the 'F' word in front of her as she was growing up, but now I used it as a normal part of my descriptive vocabulary. That shook her; I didn't use any of the politically correct euphemisms, when I meant 'fuck', I said 'fuck'.

"You know why the boys want to get in your pants?"

She looked unsure as to how she should respond.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/ft / Consensual / Fiction / Incest / Father / Daughter / First / Safe Sex / Oral Sex /