My Daughter Is Sadie Hawkins
Copyright© 2026 by Lubrican
Chapter 2
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 2 - We were locked down by Covid. My daughter's heart was broken because she couldn't ask her boyfriend to the Sadie Hawkins dance at the school that was now closed. I told her we'd dress up and have dinner and the dance at home. She found my late wife's favorite, very sexy dress and wore it to the dance. while we were dancing she said had decided to give her virginity to her boyfriend after the dance. And now all she had was me.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Father Daughter First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy
“Are you trying to get a rise out of me?” I asked. “You can’t ask your father if he wants to see your naked tits!” I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “I mean breasts. I shouldn’t call them that.”
“There was a guy who passed me in the hall at school when I was on my way to lunch. He looked at my breasts and said, ‘Nice tits.’ It didn’t bother me all that much. Some of my girlfriends call them that.”
“I’m glad it didn’t traumatize you,” I said.
“You’re afraid it will traumatize me if you say you want to look at my naked boobs, aren’t you?” she asked.
“You’re very wise for your age,” I commented.
She leaned in and put her nose almost against mine.
“Daddy, do you want to see my naked tits?”
“I shouldn’t,” I groaned.
“I’m not saying I’m going to show them to you,” she said. “I just want to know what you think about.”
“I’m ashamed of what I think about,” I admitted.
“Why? I know you love me. Why would you be ashamed of thinking about me?”
“Sometimes they’re inappropriate things for a father to think,” I said.
“I know that the rest of the world would say you shouldn’t want to look at my breasts, but I don’t care what they think. Lots of men stare at my boobs and I wonder what they’re thinking. You’re a guy, so I thought I’d ask you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, I really want to know.”
“Okay. When a guy looks at a woman’s breasts he always wishes he could see them naked. He might wonder or imagine what color her nipples are. He’ll wish he could touch them and suck –” I stopped.
“Why? They’re just breasts, lumps of fat attached to my chest wall. Why would anybody want to touch them? I mean I know it drives Trevor nuts, but he doesn’t explain why.”
I swallowed.
“Do you remember when we talked about the birds and the bees?” I asked.
“You mean procreation,” she said.
“Yes. Well, I didn’t go into it as deeply as I could have because you were so young. Now, maybe it’s time for me to tell you other things, things you might need to be aware of in your future relationships with men, regardless of what kind of relationship it is.”
“Yes! I agree! So please tell me!”
“Biologically, both men and women need to have a way to try to decide who to mate with. I’m just talking biology, and not culture. Okay? This is strictly Mother Nature.”
She nodded.
“So the man looks at every woman and decides whether or not he would mate with her. He looks at breasts that will feed his children. He looks at hips to see if they’re wide enough to allow multiple childbirths.”
“Multiple,” she said.
“Yes. Men want to sire as many children as possible. He wants his genetic line to keep going forever and the best way to do that is to have lots of sons.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense. But why does he look at all the breasts if he already saw the ones he wants to feed his babies?”
“The male wants to breed multiple women and spread his seed far and wide. The more sons he has the more likely it is that one of them will grow up to be important and have power.”
“So, if he could, he’d get a hundred women pregnant,” she deduced.
“Yes. Even more than that. But that wouldn’t work because the males would fight each other over the women.”
“Like young lions compete with the older ones and try to fight with them.”
“Yes. Many members of the animal kingdom do that. But man is a thinking beast and that’s where culture comes into it. Culture makes rules that are designed to make mating more civil so that the losing males still have a chance.”
“Sort of like giving each young male lion a female of his own,” she said.
“Exactly.” I said. “And men nowadays try to look like what they think the females want. Some work out to have bulging muscles. Biologically that is a feature women might want because he’s strong and can protect her and the children.”
“Janet Neidermier said boys preen for us.”
“She’s right. Not all, but some try to stand out so the girls will choose them.”
“So, when you look at my boobs, it’s to see if you want to mate with me?”
“Maybe the biological part of me does that, but I know you would never choose me to be in that role, so I try not to think about it. You don’t have to worry about it. I would never molest you.”
“Yeah, I know that,” she said, in a voice that made it sound like her mind was off somewhere else. When I looked at her eyes they were clearing and, suddenly, she was back. “It doesn’t bother me that you look at me that way. You looked at Mommy that way and I bet she loved it. Sometimes it’s creepy when a guy stares at you. I never understood why it felt creepy, but now I do. That’s the biological me deciding he’s not what I’m looking for.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Okay, I think that also explains why, whenever I run around in just my bra and panties, you get an erection, right?”
I coughed.
“That’s just the biological me,” I said.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, scooting forward until the pussy inside her shorts was pressed firmly against the cock in my shorts. I felt things stir down there. I needed to get her off my lap before she felt it. It was about then that she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.
Now we have always kissed on the lips, but they were always short pecks. This was not that kind of kiss. She put her arms around my neck and I felt her passion in her lips. My natural urge was to answer passion with passion and, just like she gave me a very un-daughterly kiss, I returned it with a decidedly un-fatherly one. By the time she leaned back, with her eyes still closed, there was no way in the world that she hadn’t felt my cock become a boner. She opened her eyes and, very subtly, she rubbed her pussy against said boner. Her eyes shot green rays into mine but all she did was smile and scoot back.
“I’m so glad you’re my dad.”
Then she got off of me and went somewhere else.
I went to my bedroom and tried to think about Sherry while I beat my meat.
Unfortunately, the woman I was having sex with in this fantasy kept flickering between Sherry and her daughter.
“I’m sorry, Baby,” I whispered to my dead wife. “I’ll try to do better.”
That night was a rough one for me. When she was ready to go to bed Caitlin changed into her normal T shirt and panties ensemble, which is what she called her PJs, and came to get her good night hug and kiss, which was also normal. We had gone through that routine every night for eight years. What was different was that she kissed me like she had earlier that day; long and with passion. And she rubbed her braless breasts against my chest in a way that was not subtle, but was also not obvious.
After our conversation earlier that day, it was impossible for me to think of Caitlin the same way I had for the last eight years. I knew she masturbated. I suspected she had at least thought about giving her virginity to Trevor after the Sadie Hawkins dance. She had questioned me as a woman, not a girl. And she had made me admit that I thought of her naked when I glanced at her breasts. Okay, stared at her breasts. I had masturbated after that little chat and for about half of that session the woman’s face I saw under me, exhibiting satisfied, sexual passion, was her instead of my wife. She looked like my wife and now Caitlin was sneaking into my fantasies, even my memories of Sherry.
Lying in her bed, in her room, was not the girl I had kissed good night for all those years. Lying in that bed was a young woman who I didn’t know how to deal with anymore. This night her good night hug and kiss gave me an erection. And I knew that if I jerked off, my wife and she would compete in my mind. I had an instant fantasy in which Sherry was still alive and I heard her arguing with Cat.
“It’s my turn to sleep with him tonight,” said my daughter.
“No, you slept with him last night,” said Sherry.
“That’s because the night before when it was my turn, he had to get up to go to the bathroom and fell asleep on the commode. I didn’t get a full night with him,” Caitlin complained.
“If he hadn’t been asleep on the commode he would have been asleep in bed with you, so what’s the difference?”
“No, he woke me up when he got up and I planned on making love with him when he came back. When he didn’t come back I dozed off. So I got robbed from feeling his long, hard penis up inside my vagina, trying to spurt a baby in me.”
“All right then,” said Sherry. “We’ll both sleep with him, tonight!”
“Deal!” my daughter returned.
As the two naked women came into my bedroom in my fantasy, I realized I was already stroking my cock. In fact, my cock was at that stage in things where, if you speed up just a little, and think of just the right thing, you can cum almost on demand.
I sped up.
I didn’t have to decide which woman I would cum in that night. By the time they crawled into bed with me I had already cum and they both vanished in a puff of mist.
I woke up just as horny and I knew I’d have to rub one out before I got dressed for the day. So I tried to imagine Lois when she was a teenager. I imagined her in a poodle skirt with a tight sweater and saddle oxfords. I was her teacher and when she sat down in my class she was immodest and I could see she wasn’t wearing panties. So I made her stay after class and told her I was going to spank her bare butt. She took off the poodle skirt and lay down on my lap, eager to be punished. As soon as her ass was bright red I put her on the floor and fucked her.
It actually worked. I came hard and not once did I think of either Sherry or Caitlin.
Then I remembered Lois was Catholic and had gone to an all-girl parochial school. There would have been no poodle skirts in her school. There was no way she’d go to class commando. She had told me how the nuns punished the girls and it didn’t resemble my fantasy in any way, shape, or form. Just like that I knew I’d never be able to have that fantasy again while I beat my meat.
I sighed.
It was pretty perverted to think of my administrative assistant that way, anyhow. Lois was a good woman and didn’t deserve to be bandied about in my sexual imagination. I’d have to find somebody else to take her place. Almost instantly I had a vision in my mind of Caitlin saying, “It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll take Lois’s place.”
I tried to think of something else as I put on my usual loose sports shorts and tank top. I could go outside to get the mail and wander around in my yard and it was very comfortable all day. I was thinking about what I was going to do for work today when I walked into the kitchen. Caitlin was already there. She was a morning person, like Sherry had been. She was happy when she got up. She used to be happy when she had to go to school. She was just bouncy and fun to be around in the morning, unless you were in a grouch mood. If that was the case she was unmerciful in trying to get you out of your funk.
“Morning,” I said as I approached the counter.
She had her nose figuratively in a book while she ate, which was quite normal. Ever since the lock-in she had been downloading books to read. If they had been actual books they would have easily made a stack from floor to ceiling. She glanced up from her tablet and said, “Hi. What happened to you?”
“To what are you referring, Madam?” I asked in a formal tone, with what I tried to make a British accent.
“That,” she said, pointing at my shorts.
I looked down and, to my horror, saw that my shorts looked like somebody had stuck an eight inch dowel rod in my pants. I immediately covered my groin with both hands.
“I’m sorry!” I gasped.
“Thinking about mom when you woke up?” she said, clearly offering me an excuse.
“Yes!” I blurted. “I had a dream about her!”
“I would have thought you would ... um ... take care of business before you got dressed,” she said.
“I did!” I barked, trying to mitigate this disaster.
“Wow,” she said. “That must have been some dream.”
And then she went back to reading what was on her tablet.