Chapter 8

I guessed that I didn’t pick up on that because it was the last thing in the world on my mind. I remembered all of the diapers of hers that I changed and how careful I was to make sure nothing inappropriate could ever be said about how I took care of my daughter’s little girl parts, and then just 18 years later I had my hand down her pants and was fondling them with lust—and she enjoyed it. I remembered the taste of her pussy and how smooth and clean she was on my tongue.

I was hiding my raging hard-on now and I was going to cum if I didn’t concentrate on controlling my thoughts. I forced myself to concentrate on the movie just long enough for my erection to go down and then excused myself, saying I wasn’t feeling well, before going to bed.

Erin asked if she could get me anything and I said I was ok; that it was probably just something I ate. I said ‘good night’ to Erin and she elected to watch the rest of the movie. Before going to sleep, I had to ‘rub one out’. I went into the bathroom like some high school kid and jerked off. But when I did, all I could picture in my head was me fucking ‘the cat girl’. Only this time, she wasn’t wearing her mask. I could easily picture my daughter’s face instead of the cat mask.

It only took a matter of about 30 seconds of jerking off before I blew my load in the toilet. And it took much less time for the shame and guilt to sink in. With the erection taken care of, I was going to go and get something to drink from the kitchen, but just as I was about to enter the living room on my way there, I saw Erin was taking care of herself in the same manner as I had. She was still watching the movie and Spider Man was battling it out with the bad guy. Erin’s pajama bottoms danced over her fingers and I decided the drink wasn’t that important—I wasn’t going to embarrass her—so I went to bed.

The next morning I woke up right around six o’clock. That was very unusual for me on a Sunday; normally I would have slept until around 10:00. But then I realized what brought me out of my sleep. Erin was awake already and she was in the bathroom—puking her guts out as quietly as she could. I got up and went to the door and knocked gently, asking if she was ok. She said, “Yeah, I’m ok. But whatever you ate last night, it got me, too.”

The toilet flushed and the water ran in the sink. She began brushing her teeth and I went to make breakfast, fearing that she didn’t have food poisoning. I never thought I would wish food poisoning on my daughter, but right now that was better than what was in my head. Erin came out and sat down instead of helping, so I knew she wasn’t feeling well. She asked how I was feeling and I said that I was fine. She took comfort in that; figuring she would be better soon as well.

I made her pancakes (her favorite) and she had a hard time eating them. I told her not to force herself if she was still not feeling well and she thanked me for understanding. We tried to ‘figure out what we ate that was bad’ and ultimately decided the chip dip must have been bad (even though I knew better). I went to the fridge, removed the dip, and threw it away all the same.

By mid morning, she was feeling some-what better and asked to use the washer and dryer. I told her to go and relax and I’d take care of her laundry. She kissed me on the cheek and thanked me. She plopped down in front of the TV and turned it on before taking a nap within a few minutes.

I set about doing her laundry and, while doing a load of her darks, found the top she used as part of her cat costume. I just looked at it for a few seconds and remembered how perfect her breasts were. And that was not the opinion of a biased father; I didn’t know I was looking at my daughter’s breasts when I first thought that!

She had a large assortment of sexy and racy panties. I was pretty used to seeing them; she started wearing sexy underwear before she even started high school. Even then it didn’t faze me to see the white secretions in her panties; it was just part of growing up. But now it seemed ... different.