Chapter 2

I felt as if the world had changed. Bathing Laney last night was beyond what I could have imagined. I had the guts to wash her chest with my bare, soapy hands, pulling and lightly pinching her nipples! And she loved it. I hoped she would. And she let me intimately wash her pussy. I wanted to take it further and I knew she wanted to. But I stopped the momentum. This was a big deal. Things were moving fast. I wanted to wait a day or so and process it. Was this the right thing to do--father and daughter? We’d already crossed the line, but we could stop and not take it further. I needed to think about it. I wanted Laney to as well, although, I wasn’t so sure she needed to process it. I think she wanted us to have sex. Nothing to process.

This morning, she acted differently. She came into the kitchen topless! Topless! I unleashed something in her last night. I sat at the table in beautiful shock. Even though she was topless, she acted normal, nice and sweet like she always did--as if she wasn’t aware I was gazing at her gorgeous nipples, the puffy nipples I washed, kissed and sucked on the night before.

She had a sly smile knowing full well what she was doing to me. She kissed me on the cheek and said good morning in an “everything’s normal” tone, then sat down across from me at the kitchen table. I had the perfect view of her chest and hard nipples. I wanted to have sex with her. I admit that. I had morning wood now, taut and hard. What was up with her? I loved her boldness. I decided to let her call the shots. I played it passively.

“Daddy, I liked my bath. Can we do it again? Now?” She asked me in that little girl voice she knew I liked. She was pushing my buttons like a master.

“This morning? Sure. We can never be too clean!” I quipped.

I kept the dialogue non-sexual. Yeah, right, it was all about being clean. She smiled and looked pleased that I agreed to the bath. She had the control--she thought--and I liked seeing this side of her. She got up, and moved toward me again, and kissed me on the mouth. Our tongues met. Our tongues danced. This was a first. We’d never kissed like this before. She lightly moaned as my hands roamed over her nipples.

“Daddy, I like when you touch them--and when you--suck them,” she said in a whispery, sexy voice.

I was throbbing hard now. Here we were in my house in complete privacy. No more worrying about her mom catching us. This was beautiful. (A kiss between a father and his daughter has a magic all its own that can’t be explained. Think about this. Could you kiss your daughter like that? Like a lover? Is there any scenario where you would? I’ve recently corresponded with fathers who have had such scenarios. They know the power of such a kiss. It’s “forbidden fruit”. It has a power that transcends any kiss. A romantic, lustful kiss between a father and daughter is like no other. Personally, it sends bolts of electricity directly to my cock while charging my mind with ecstasy.)

Our kissing ended and her beautiful eyes glowed with lust. My little girl was fast becoming a woman. Was she practicing on me, readying herself for some boy in mind? I didn’t care if that was my role. I was fine with that. She could use me like that. Likewise, she was my gateway into experiencing sex with a teenager. I was very attracted to her sleepover friends through the years. I worked it all out in my fantasies. I couldn’t have them, but I could her. Her body was her gift to me.

The kisses were real. It was consensual and private. (Naturally, we became allies against her mom, my awful wife. I had to protect her from that cold-hearted witch, and in doing so, we found that physical affection was healing for us. That is my theory. Long, deep hugs helped ease our anxiety over her mom. It bonded us. During a bad patch with her mom, she asked me to sleep with her in her room. At the time, it felt appropriate, much like when she was a little girl and had nightmares. She would either come into bed with us, or preferred I come into bed with her in her room. Always the “daddy’s girl”.

We spooned. Nothing more than that. I held her tight, and I didn’t have any sexual ideations then. Maybe passing thoughts, but it all fell within the norms of fatherhood to lay down with her in bed. The last time I did it I got a hard on. She would have been ten years old, and at that time I was looking at her with new eyes, after catching her days before, grinding against a stuffed toy on her bed. She felt my cock pushing through my pajamas against her butt as we lay in her bed. She began grinding against it. I pressed against her butt as she kept grinding and I shot a big load in my underwear! She didn’t know it. Recently, she told me she used to feel tingly when we spooned, and her panties got wet.

She went into the bathroom and started running water. I could hear it filling up the tub. That sound would soon stop and my anticipation and hopes of what might happen sexually, was overwhelming. A montage of images of her sucking my cock played in my mind. I knew she wanted to give me a blow job, even though we never spoke about it. Sometimes you just know.

We were telepathically communicating, I think. Our sexual attraction up to today has been a slow, erotic road trip sans maps or a sense of direction. We just kept moving forward to this inevitable bath. Sometimes sojourns like this can hit a dead end. Sometimes you’re out of fuel or get a flat tire. Temporary delays. Her mom was always a hindrance. She had no maternal interest in Laney other than as her competition. Even when Laney was eight, nine, ten! Competition! That broke my heart. Well, actually, she was right in the end. I chose Laney over her--no question. And no looking back.

My wife had a lesbian affair outside of our marriage, and that was enough to end it for me. I got full custody of our daughter! She didn’t fight it. Laney and I journeyed on “the road less traveled”, as it were. Few dads and daughters have what we have. She wanted it as much as I did. Maybe more.

I heard the water faucet stop in the bathroom. “It’s ready, Daddy. You can come in now,” she called out.

My heart was racing. My cock was throbbing and oozing pre-cum. As I approached the bathroom, I could see steam pouring out of the half-open door. I entered. The room was lit by candles. She set the mood and was sitting in the bubble bath waiting for me. This was so romantic. The relationship lines blurred.

In this moment, I saw her both as my daughter and my young lover. Her beautiful face glowed from the candlelight. Her nipples were especially puffy, hard, and wet. (She must have been playing with them with wet fingers before I came in, and no doubt fingering her clitoris.)

I undressed and loved exposing my cock to her. I stood in the bath, and she looked up at my monster cock and said, “How does it get so big, Daddy?”

I liked her curiosity. It was a fair question.

“I was born with a big--cock. I don’t really have a good answer, baby. You excite me and that’s why it is so big. I hope you aren’t afraid of it. You shouldn’t be.”

“Afraid?” she laughed lightly. “No, I like how big it is, Daddy. Are my friend’s Daddies that big too, do you think?”

“I can tell you mine is far bigger than the average cock--by many inches. I know that for a fact. So, I probably am bigger than your friend’s dads.”

I liked thinking about her talking with her friends about cocks. Would she tell them about mine, after this? Have they seen their dad’s cocks? She seemed to ponder what I had just said about my size. I loved her eyes focused on my cock. What a turn on it has always been to flash my cock at young girls and women. Even my mom saw my hard cock when I was a teen, and I know it aroused her. She told me it did. More on that some other time.

As I sat, I bent forward and sucked hungrily on her nipples. (Imagine sucking on ripe, puffy teen nipples! Imagine they are your daughter’s!) Tonight, I would be more assertive than last night. She moaned as I devoured her nipples. And then we kissed passionately.