This story was inspired by true events. Comments welcome.
Amanda has been the sparkle in my life since the day she was born. Not only was she a pretty baby, something that every father says about his children, but as she grew through her adolescent and teen years, she blossomed into a beautiful woman. At 22, she stands about 5-feet 6-inches tall, weighs about 115, and has straight, jet black hair, from her mother's side of the family, that has just a few highlights and reaches to the small of her back. She is slightly on the slim side with narrow hips, a thin waist, and a dark complexion that comes from my side of the family.
If I were asked to describe my daughter a month ago, that would have been the limit. But after a recent trip to the beach where she happened to join me for the weekend, I can now say she has beautiful, perky breast that are slightly tight in a B-cup bra with brown, puffy nipples the size of sliver dollars. Her ass is small and nicely shaped with little dimples above each cheek in the small of her back. She keeps her pubic hair trimmed close rather than shaving. She says she prefers the hair to be soft rather than having stubble. To my surprise, and delight, her pussy lips are completely free of any hair or stubble. She had it all removed using some process for women that is like waxing, but lasts much long. All she does is goes back to the salon every few months for what she calls her "maintenance."
Although her mother and I divorced when Amanda was only about 10-years-old, I took every opportunity to spend with my daughter. We had joint custody and there were never any major problems about who got to get her for the weekend, and when. But as Amanda reached her late teens, she began making her own plans for the weekends. I accepted it as a part of my little girl growing up and continued to see her when she was not busy.
After she graduated, I pulled a few strings with some business associates and was able to help her get a job. A huge benefit was that her job put her in contact with me on a daily basis. We would always hug and kiss whenever we greeted, or said good-bye, which had always been a part of our lifestyle.
I retired after a few years and moved about 30-miles out of town. I hated the rat race of city life and almost became a recluse in my little piece of heaven away from everything. What I hated worse was the fact that my daily contacts with Amanda reduced to every month or two. On the rare occasions that I do make a trip into the city, I always try to time it around lunch so I can take Amanda out to eat.
It was on one of these lunch dates a couple months ago that our conversation turned to the topic of body piercing. She had gotten her tongue pierced some time earlier and I asked if it had any purpose. She avoided any direct answer saying that it was only a fad.
After lunch I walked her to her car and went to kiss her goodbye, as I always do, but rather than the normal peck on the lips between a father and his daughter, Amanda hugged me tightly and I felt her tongue slip between my lips. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and accepted her tongue as I returned the kiss. Then it hit me that this was my daughter that I was playing dueling tongues with and pulled away. I could feel the heat as my face flushed, embarrassed for returning the kiss so willingly.
"Oh, daddy! I didn't realize you were such a good kisser," she sighed.
"I didn't realize you were going to check my tonsils," I answered. "What was that all about?"
"I wanted you to feel the sensations of my tongue piercing," she said, her eyes half closed and her head tilted back. "I guess the surprise was on me. A kiss has never made me feel like this."
Then it hit me that I had received quite a sensation from my daughter's aggressiveness. Her tight grip had her breast pressed tightly into my chest and I could feel her pubic bone pressing against my cock, which was now semi-erect.
We said our goodbyes and I headed home. During the drive home, I began to think about the warmth I felt from her body when she kissed me. The swell of her breasts pressed against me. The pressure of her crotch against mine.
"Get a grip, old man," I said to myself. "This is your daughter you're thinking about. Your own flesh and blood. Your baby girl."
A couple of weekends ago I decided to head down to the beach. I had told Amanda that I was going the weekend before Memorial Day to enjoy the peace and quiet before the beaches became packed with vacationers.
I had converted an old horse trailer into a camper. It had a queen-size bed over the gooseneck and I had installed a stove, sink, john, and a shower. It wasn't a high-dollar travel trailer, but it had everything I needed.
After setting up camp, I decided to take a walk along the beach. One, to find out if the fish were biting, and two, to see what beauties may be sunning during the pre-season rush to work on their tans.
Although the weather was perfect, to my dismay the beach was deserted.
I returned to my camper about an hour later and found Amanda sitting under the awning with her feet propped up on a table while sucking down one of my beers.
"This is a pleasant surprise," I said as I gave her a hug and kiss. "To what do I owe this honor?"
"I thought it would be nice to spend some quality time with my daddy," she replied. "I knew the beaches wouldn't be crowded until next weekend."
It was still early afternoon so she decided to catch some sun while I fed the fish. I was already wearing a pair of cutoff shorts and was getting my fishing gear while she changed into her suit. I was ready to go when she stepped out of the camper wearing a cover over her suit and carrying a beach bag with a blanket, a couple sodas, and some sun screen.
When we reached the beach, I helped her spread the blanket, and then began rigging my rod and reel. After baiting the hooks, I walked to the edge of the water and cast the bait out beyond the breakers. As I turned to walk back, I saw Amanda stretched out lying face down on the blanket.
I had seen young ladies wearing thongs on this beach, but never one as small as Amanda's. At first glance, I thought she had stripped completely. It was only when I was standing at the edge of the blanket that I saw a one inch triangle with a string extending over each hip, and a third disappearing between the cheeks of her ass. Her long dark hair was pulled to the side and a bow was tied behind her neck. The string around her back to hold her top had been untied and lay on the blanket at her side.
"What in the world is that you're wearing," I asked.
"It's my new bikini," she said, raising up slightly and turning to look at me. "I ordered it from a company called Wicked Weasel in Australia."
The loose top offered me a nice side view of her full left breast when she raised off the blanket. While the entire tit hung firmly below her chest, the nipple buried itself into the blanket.
"If you paid more than five dollars, you were robbed," I said. "I could have bought you a spool of thread for much less."
"Oh, daddy. Don't you think it's hot?"
"Baby, it's you that is hot. Not those few strings that you call a bikini."
It was impossible not to admire her perfect skin. Not a blemish showed from the nap of her neck to the tip of her toes. Her back was muscular, but not overly defined, and narrowed at the waist. Her hips flared slightly and tapered into two shapely legs. Her cute bubble butt was small, but not too small. I've always been a butt man and considered hers to be outstanding.
Almost standing over her now, I could see the pink string running along the deep crevice of her ass. Each cheek parted slightly at her asshole and I could just make out the crinkle of her rosebud on each side of the string. The string joined a narrow strip of cloth just wide enough to cover her slit, but left the slightly darker skin of her puffy pussy lips exposed.
"Do you really think I'm hot, Daddy," she asked as I saw her eyes glance at the bulge pressing against my zipper.
"Sweetheart, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. But I didn't have to see you naked to tell you that."
"I'm not naked," she said, pulling the loose strings of her top behind her back and then rolling over to show me her front. "See. Everything is covered."
The front of the bikini was just as revealing as the back. Even with the top loose, I could see the darkness of her puffy nipples through the thin strip of fabric. At the center of each dark circle her nipples threatened to pierce through the new suit. The triangle on the bottoms was slightly wider than the top, but a few stray hairs had escaped under the edges. Regardless of what had escaped around the edge of the material, her entire bush could be seen through the transparent cloth. The spandex was pulled tightly over her mound and it was obvious her clit was protruding from between her slit. Something else that was now visible since she had rolled onto her back was a dark spot at the center of her sex. Yes, she was wet. Was she excited from showing herself to her father?
"That cold shower is sure going to feel good," I said to myself, not intending for her to hear.
"Why Daddy, do I turn you on," she asked with a sly smile.
"I don't think there is a male with hot blood running through his veins that you wouldn't turn on," I answered. "But when the male is as old as I am, it can be quite stressful."
"You're not old," she said, rolling back onto her stomach. "You're mature. That's something I can't find in boys my age. That's why I've decided I want a mature man, just like you."
.... There is more of this story ...