Rylee lay in bed, softly touching herself as she cried. She missed her dad so much. Her only solace came in the brief moments of pleasure she could give herself before falling asleep.

It all started when she was 13...

Her ear up to the door, she listened as her mom and dad argued, yet again. She heard a door slam and footsteps. Rylee ran back to her bed and feigned sleep as her father came in. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and whispered he was sorry, but he had to leave. Hesitating too long, she finally jumped up to tell him not to, but he was already gone.

Months of courts and papers and lawyers followed. There were battles over alimony and child support and visitation rights and the house and the car and on and on. At first, Rylee sided with her mother, but she missed her dad so much, and her mom started talking bad things about him trying to turn Rylee against him. Rylee blamed herself, thinking she had caused these problems. She blamed her mother for being so mean to her dad. She blamed her dad for leaving.

Her grades slipped from A’s to C’s, doing just enough work to keep from failing. She didn’t care about school anymore. She hated her mom, she hated school. She hadn’t seen her dad in months for more than a few minutes, usually with the lawyers. They would hug, and he would kiss her on the forehead and tell her he was sorry, and he missed her.

Days became circular boredom; get up, shower, eat a piece of toast or cereal, school, half-hearted sports, home, pick at her dinner, argue with her mother, into her room, cry, sleep, repeat.

At night, she called to her daddy. She imagined hugging him and being hugged by him. Unloved, she would again find solace as her hand crept over her budding breasts and down between her legs. Small fingers touched her tummy as she hugged her pillow with one arm and her legs. Her breathing deepened as she closed her eyes and dreamed of being kissed, of being held. Her hand found the gap between the elastic of her panties stretched over her pelvic bones. She sucked in a breath as her middle finger slid over her silkiness and then touched her slit, small and symmetrically shaped lips now held her fingertip. She brought her hand back up, licked her fingers, tasting herself as she moistened them only to return to her dancing them in her cleft. She found her clit, doing little figure eights around it. Then she pushed her fingers downwards, her mind idly thinking of her dad. She loved him. She missed him.

Her fingers hurriedly rubbed her slit as she rocked her hips against the pillow. Her mind blanked, thinking only in the moment. Wanting, needing. Needing to cum. Her breath panted as her bed squeaked quietly. Her whole body rocking as she built, closer, closer.

“Ouff,” she grunted, silencing herself into her pillow as her climax hit. She squeezed her pillow, an image of her hugging her dad flitted through her mind as she orgasmed. Her young body shook, and tummy rippled in small fits as its waves washed through her. Her hand still now, unable to move from her overstimulated sex. She lay, flushed and heated, feeling a little guilty at thinking about her father. About her and him together. She fell asleep, dreaming of him.

Time continued onwards. On Rylee’s 14^th birthday, her mom, trying to cheer her up, gave her a party for her and her few friends. She liked the party, but then there was a knock at the door. Special delivery; her father sent her flowers and a small box. She opened it hurriedly, happy that her father had remembered her birthday. Inside was a brand new iPhone! She pulled it out and turned it on. It was already set up and active. There was even a text message waiting.

‘Happy Birthday, my sweetheart!’

She typed out a reply, ignoring her friends and mom for the moment.

‘I luv it! I luv U dad!’

‘You are welcome!’ came a reply within moments.

She saw a little note in the box. It said, ‘Use the chat app I installed, love dad.’

Her mom came up to her, “I hope he is paying the bill for that. He sure doesn’t like to pay for anything else.”

Rylee just let it slide, ignoring her mom and saying bye to her friends, now only interested in chatting with her dad. Into her room she went, closing the door behind her. She found the chat app icon and clicked on it. It appeared her dad had already set up an id on it and had friended her.

She typed simply, ‘Hi.’

Just seconds later, she got a reply, ‘Hi, my girl!’

She smiled. She had forgotten how much she and her dad had talked and been together before the divorce.

Another message arrived, ‘Use this for our private conversations. Your mom might not like me talking to you. Use regular text messages for normal stuff, Ok?’

She replied that she understood.

She added, ‘I miss you so much!’

The two carried on messaging for a while, but then there was a little ring, she answered the chat app call, and there was her father’s face, a grin rising from him as he saw her. She squealed in delight, not knowing that it could do video calls as well. They talked for a long time as she caught him up on all that had happened in her life.

He asked, “What about your grades?”

She looked forlorn and didn’t want to say anything.

“Rylee, you have to keep your grades up. I won’t let you get out of that, even if I’m not around!”

She apologized and said she would try harder. She did feel better now being able to see and talk to him. As she spoke, she started getting ready for bed. Not being used to video, she forgot that her father could see her as she now jabbered on happily. She laid the phone down on the edge of her pillow and went to change.

Continuing to talk, she unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down, her little bottom towards the camera. Her father, not expecting this, looked away for a moment, but then back again. He had forgotten she was now becoming a young woman, no longer a little girl. Her panties were low cut, showing off bare cheeks and a hint of her butt crack as she bent over. The cloth folded into her crease, disappearing between her legs. She turned, still talking, and he saw her belly button well above the cut of her underwear. He realized that they must be just barely covering her mound, and there was even a well-defined camel toe visible. Her head was temporarily hidden under her shirt as she pulled it off. Her bare breasts stared at him. Already the sizes of small bowls, they were perfectly round, and her young nipples stood out. He looked away again to give her privacy, but couldn’t resist looking back. He blushed as he finally noticed how he was staring at his daughter.

“Dad?” she asked.

He hadn’t heard her question, “I’m still here, honey. Sorry, what did you ask?”

She realized he saw her undress but didn’t turn away, “Dad ... naughty”, she giggled and pulled on her pajama top.

“Rylee, you are a beautiful young lady. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...”

“Dad, silly! It’s ok, you’ve seen me before!”

“Well, not quite like that. You were ... younger, a child.”

She liked embarrassing him and didn’t bother with her pajama bottoms. Plopping down again on the bed, he caught a view again of her hip hugger panties and her bare thighs before she picked up the phone.

“If your mom comes, just drop the call, no need to say bye...”

Right then, as if on cue, a knock on the door. She quickly shut off the phone as the door opened. Her mom saw the phone slip away.

John lay in bed, looking at some of the photos of young women on a dating app. As he flipped through, he couldn’t resist touching himself. He realized he hadn’t dated since the divorce. Either too tired, too busy, or just too frustrated with his ex. He thought maybe he should try a date again. He looked at the photos, some seemed rather young, and doubted they were 21 or older like the site said. He flipped past more, still rubbing himself, now stiffening. He stopped at a picture, doing a double-take. It looked an awful lot like his Rylee. It couldn’t be her? Could it? Relieved after seeing the details in the profile didn’t match, but at first glance...

He lay staring at the girl’s picture, absently stroking himself more. His mind drifted. He imagined seeing Rylee’s sandy blond hair, her petite body with narrowing waist and flaring hips, pelvic bones protruding. He saw this girl’s cute face with her bright blue eyes and perfect white teeth exactly as his Rylee had. The girl was standing in front of a mirror wearing short shorts and a lacy white blouse. He saw his Rylee in seeing this girl’s endlessly long bare legs, painted toenails, and little ankle bracelet around one foot. He remembered his view of his daughter’s naked young breasts, nipples visibly hard, and tight little panties curving with her rounded bottom.

He felt himself building, his mind blurring his Rylee with this girl. He stared at the photo, his legs now spread as he pumped his fist over his hard manhood. He released his hand, leaving only a finger and thumb, imagining what her little hand would be like around him. He moved his hips in rhythm to his fingers, his mind focusing on this girl and then his Rylee, wanting to kiss her, hold her, make love to her.

He exploded, clamping down his hand over his crown to catch the spurts as his body jerked and mind burned in the heat of sexual pleasure. My baby, my Rylee ... he calmed, got up to wipe himself. He immediately felt embarrassed. ‘My daughter! Shit! John, you are stupid!’

When he got back to his phone, he quickly swiped the girl’s photo away.

Another month went by with the two trading messages filled with hidden meanings and wordplay.

‘How’s daddy’s girl?’

‘i need snuggles, daddy.’

‘My arms are around you.’

...

‘sorry, daddy, my period makes me cranky.’

‘Baby girl, I wish I was there to kiss you and make you all better.’

...

‘do you luv me still, daddy?’

‘Of course I do, my love!’

...

‘dream about me.’

‘Sweet dreams to you, too, my girl.’

She did dream about her dad. She dreamed of him holding her, kissing her, loving her. Lying in bed, almost asleep in that twilight world, her hand went down again, softly touching between her legs. Tonight she lay in bed naked. She had wanted to feel the freedom of just sheets against her body. Her breasts rose and fell as her breathing slowed. Her thoughts of desire mixed with images of her with her father. She felt warmth below her belly. Her fingers moved slowly in little circles as she touched herself. She widened her legs, and her mouth parted as her breathing deepened. Her mind drifting at the edge of sleep mixed with feelings of desire. Her fingers quickened. She came. Her orgasm flowed like a ripple of warm water over her body. She wanted her daddy as she moaned softly.

She also starts sending photos with nearly every text. He looks down at her latest and there is her smiling face with her ‘whatcha doing?’ text. Minutes later, another photo, her tongue sticking out to one side of her mouth and head tilted. Then another, this time her whole body reflected in a mirror. She had on her school uniform outfit, her hips tilted with white button shirt, buckle shoes and her pleated skirt up mid-thigh, rather too short for school, the little stinker.

‘Do they let you dress like that at school?’ he texts.

‘this is my school uniform silly!’

‘You know what I mean!’

Next photo arrives; close up of her pulling one side of her skirt up, nearly to her hip, ‘you like?’

‘Girl!’

After that, each photo sent seems to be a bit more risqué than the previous. Soon, she’s showing off her bare midriff, as much leg as she can, posing sexily this way and that. He’s convinced she is almost sexting him, well, not nudity, but those pajama shots, and cute dresses, making her father doubt his daughter’s intentions; is it just to get a rise out of him or is she trying to seduce him? Whatever it is, it’s working!

Then one Saturday, he gets a video call. When he answers it, there is a girl dressed in fishnet stockings with black tattoos all over her legs. She has on a white and red tee-shirt, torn and full of holes. It reads ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’ and is tied below her chest, leaving her midriff bare from her rib cage down nearly to her crotch. Her hips partially covered with little booty pants and a black leather belt covered in metal studs. More tattoos on her belly that look like they were drawn with a black magic marker. She is carrying a plastic baseball bat and has leather cuffs at her wrists, also studded.

He looks up at her face, barely recognizing his young daughter, transformed. She has on black eye shadow and eyeliner, blood-red lipstick, and her blond hair, normally worn down over her shoulders, is in two little ponytails, one tinted red, the other blue.

“Hi DADDDY...”, accenting the word ‘daddy’ with sexy overtones.

“Rylee? What the heck! What ARE you wearing?”

She giggled, “I’m Harley Quinn!”

“Who? Does your mother let you go out like that?”

“Harley Quinn! Suicide Squad? It’s cosplay! Yes, I’m going to a comic con downtown.”

“By yourself!?”

“No silly, with friends. A friend’s mom is taking us.”

“Boys? NO Boys!”

She laughed, “Why DADDDY? Is my sugar daddy jealous?”

She pranced around in a twirl, swinging her butt at her phone.

“Does DADDDY like what he sees?” she giggled.

Her phone dinged, a text message arrived.

“Gotta run! Friends waiting ... Love you!” and hung up.

He took a breath. FUCK! She looks ... wild! He was going to have to check out this Harley Quinn stuff.

Hidden messages and calls continue. She liked to call late at night, sometimes waking him to find her cute face up next to the camera, while at other times showing off her latest outfit, some a bit skimpier than he preferred. He would ask about her classes, and she would make funny faces and send him photos, nearly always tilting her head cutely and tongue sticking out.

She sometimes cried on calls, and he had to console her. She would complain about her mom and school and bullies. He just lent a sympathetic ear and a few suggestions.

He laughed as she dug through piles of clothes scattered around the room, he commented that maybe she should fold them and put them away, which she promptly ignored. She would sing along to songs and dance as he watched her little body sway and spin. She blew kisses and once or twice fell asleep as he watched her.

But they only saw each other remotely, over the phone.

After over a year, her father was given rights to see Rylee one Saturday per month. Rylee and her mom still had arguments, even to the point where Rylee was required to unlock her phone and sit as her mom looked over the phone calls, texts, and photos. Rylee had followed her father’s instructions that had a few innocent ‘normal’ texts and calls on the phone, while their private messages and calls stayed in the chat app. Her mom dutifully checked her phone at random intervals but never found anything while Rylee just acted peeved, well it wasn’t an act. She resented the invasion of her privacy, even though she was still only 15.

But finally, she was going to get to see her father ... alone!

A new text came, ‘Where do you want to go next Saturday?’ he asked.

‘To the movies!’ was her reply.

‘It’s a date!’

She looked at the message; date. She thought for a moment; date. Her eyes lit. She was going on a date! Sure, with her father, but still, a date! Her mom had forbidden dating until she was at least 16, so this was a treat.

Early Saturday, she spent much of the morning hunting up just the right outfit, finally settling on a floral print wrap dress that ended halfway down her thighs and her white tennis shoes. She wore her hair down, which she had been letting grow long, now well below her shoulders. She put on a darkened tan eye shadow and pink lipstick. A touch of sparkles on her cheeks.

When he pulled into the driveway, she raced out, barely saying bye to her mom. Rylee hadn’t seen her father in person in months. Sliding into the passenger’s seat, her wrap dress showed most of her thigh as she leaned over and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Rylee! You are beautiful! I missed you so! How you have GROWN!”

She giggled and hugged him again, stretching over the console and not caring that her dress was uncovering her pink flowered panties.

“I love you, dad. And you are taking me on a DATE!”

He looked at her, then laughed as she grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his. He felt her hand, so small in his. So soft and warm. He looked into her eyes. She smiled, then a flicker of mischief flashed by, and she quickly leaned over and kissed him, right on the lips. Just a quick peck, but enough for him to be taken off guard.

At the theater, she stayed hanging onto his arm, her hand in his and her head against his shoulder. She had discovered the chair arms lifted out of the way and thus was snuggled right against him during the entire movie, a romantic comedy she had picked out. Her legs stayed folded underneath her. With no armrest, she gave him no choice but to lay his arm on her thigh, their hands still entwined. He had to balance his arm, not moving, as the slighted shift would have put it between her legs and into her softly covered crotch.

As she watched the movie, she jerked her hand, reacting to scenes, making him work to keep control of his desires. He desired his daughter. He tried to move to free his hand and put it around her shoulder, but she resisted, and their hands slid into her lap. He knew the back of his hand was separated from her femalehood by mere thin cloth. He felt sweaty, nervous at his thoughts. SHIT!

Relief came in the form of the movie’s end and lights coming up. She jumped up, still holding his hand, and led him out of the theater. She talked non-stop about the film on the way to eat at the pizza place he had picked and then back to her home. Her mom texting her several times, reminding her that she had to be back by 6pm. Rylee acknowledged her mom only after the third request.

Back home, she jumped out of the car, turned, leaned in all the way across the seat, and before he could say goodbye, kissed him on the lips and said thank you for the wonderful date, turned, and was gone. He took a breath, wiped his sweaty hand on his pants leg, composed himself, and left.

His phone dinged, ‘Think of me.’

It included a selfie, obviously just made, of her leaning on her bed, one leg, bare to her hip on the bed, and in the closet mirror behind her, her bottom, almost exposed as her dress ended hardly an inch below her butt cheeks, the tiniest bit of panty visible. He wasn’t sure if she realized that. He hoped not. He was looking at his 15-year-old daughter with lust. He was glad that the app automatically deleted the messages and photos after a day or so. He could imagine trying to explain to the police ‘ ... but she’s my daughter! Sure buddy, so its incest as well as child porn, eh?’

Over the next few months, those monthly Saturdays became her date ‘night’ with her dad. He took her anywhere she wanted to go; the movies, the mall, wherever:

Rylee came running out to his car, slamming the door as she got in. She was crying.

“Mom HATES me!”

“No, Rylee.”

“I HATE HER!”

“Rylee, what happened?”

“Drive, please daddy. Anywhere.”

She was dressed in jeans shorts that were torn and full of holes and an old tee shirt that raggedly ended a few inches above her shorts. Her clothes reflected her mood. As they drove away with no particular direction in mind, he tried to get her to talk.

“Let me guess, your mom said something bad about me, maybe about us?”

“She doesn’t trust me. She wanted my phone and to show her OUR app.”

He wasn’t surprised. Her mom had probably read about such things or heard from other moms.

She continued, “I refused to unlock my phone, and she yelled at me, and I yelled back, and she told me to clean up my room and that I couldn’t see you and that I couldn’t see boys, and I told her I hated her and slammed my door, and she yelled that I was grounded and, and...”

“Sush honey, take a deep breath. It’s not that bad.”

“Don’t you start! Don’t patronize me”, she pouted, leaning back and putting her bare feet up on the dash.

“Do you always run around with worn-out jeans? I thought I got you new clothes. And where are your shoes?”

She batted him on the shoulder, “Don’t change the subject!” as more tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Sorry, my love, my darling, my sweetheart,” as he tried honey instead of vinegar.

She sat pouting, looking at him, trying to be mad and squirming around in the seat. He squirmed too, as he saw that those holes in her shorts showed bare skin where there ought to be panties. SHIT! He glanced quickly away, adjusted his stiffing member, and focused on driving.

She stated, “I want to come live with YOU!”

He tried to change the subject again; only her mom had custody.

“I know what you need.”

He pulled into a Dairy Queen, knowing that ice cream always solved problems.

“I don’t want ice cream,” she pronounced.

He looked at her as if shocked, then put on a puppy dog face. She batted him again, but he leaned over and kissed her, right on the lips, right there in the parking lot with people all around. A lingering kiss. She was the one that looked shocked now.

“Come on, my honey. You can watch me eat then.”

She batted him again, trying to stay mad while still tasting that kiss. He got out and came around and opened her door. She relented and purposefully grabbed onto his arm with both hands, leaning up against him.

He smiled, “Hopefully, they won’t mind your bare feet ... else we’ll have to eat out here.”

He looked down at her again, “Jeeze, they might not let bums in either. They’ll think I picked you up off the street.”

She batted him again and returned to holding his arm tightly as she wiped tears. He sat her down at a booth and went up and ordered two banana splits and two cokes.

“Here, just in case you changed your mind,” he sat a banana split and coke in front of her.

Absently, she picked up a spoon and started eating.

In between bites, she continued, “I don’t know why I got so angry. She is just so...”

“Infuriating? Mean?” he offered, “No, you two are much alike. And I know it’s hard on her raising a bum kid by herself.”

She swatted at him across the table, “I don’t know what to do. I get so confused. I hate it when she bad mouths you. I want to scream at her that I love you.”

He got a little worried, “You haven’t said anything about ... us?”

“NO! I would never! She would kill me ... and you!” she giggled as if that was funny.

He breathed a sigh, “Good. I mean, you two are around each other all the time.”

Then he asked, “Is she seeing anyone?”

“Huh? No, not that I know of. What has that got to do...”

“Honey, she’s alone. You have me, but she doesn’t have anyone else. You know that can be just as hard on us oldsters as it can on you kids.”

“I’m NOT a kid and ... yeah, I guess so. But what could I do about that?”

“So, you are not a kid, but I am an oldster?”

She giggled, then looked at him, “You’re not that old...”

Her eyes hazed dreamily as she thought again about that kiss.

He reached over and wiped a bit of chocolate sauce from the edge of her mouth. Then he nonchalantly stuck the finger into his mouth, making a big deal of enjoying it, licking it clean.

“DAD! You are embarrassing me! And you didn’t answer!”

He just smiled and finally answered.

“Well, for one, listen to her. Let her talk, and just drop a hint. Maybe you guys could go out to the beach, and you could point out hot guys to her. Well, maybe not so hot. Maybe just old guys. Fat ones.”

She kicked him and looked shocked, “You mean fix mom up with a date?”

He just smiled, “And CLEAN UP your room!” he looked serious at her.

But he didn’t add that her mom likely just needed to laid once in a while. He could use a bit of that himself as well.

Rylee ignored the room comment but picked up on the hidden innuendo of the date.

“DAD! You’re NOT dating someone ... Are you?” she looked a little worried.

“As a matter of fact...”

She kicked him again, and he laughed, “ ... I was about to say, I was on a date right now!”

She blushed and then took a big scoop of ice cream into her spoon. He looked like ‘don’t you dare.’ But she did something more interesting; she seductively licked the ice cream with the tip of her tongue, then he opened his mouth, and she stuck it in. When she removed it, most of the ice cream was gone. She smiled. She was dating her dad.

Another month went by. He had deleted their private chat app from her phone, so they could only text in the open, which cut down on both, their intimacy as well as just sheer number of messages. Rylee wasn’t happy with this (neither was he, admittedly), but accepted it. They did get to still do Facetime calls. He was tempted to get her another phone just for their rendezvous, but feared, not her mom, but himself, with what she might start sending him as she got bolder. She had already posted photos over that app that were slightly more than he bargained on ... even though he still looked at them.

One time, she was climbing around in bed, looking over the edges hunting for yet another lost something or other. She had on her usual oversized tee-shirt and some flowery panties. His eyes watched her face, then her bottom; panties creased into her from front to back, sometimes from views in the mirror and sometimes directly as her phone flipped this way and that. But when she gave up her search and plopped down, camera in front of her, legs splayed outwards, and that hint of lip bulged out from one side of her underwear, he inwardly groaned and suggested to her that girls shouldn’t sit like that. She just giggled, smiling at him, then arched her back pressing her nipple headlights against her shirt and stretching her belly out at him and told him he was a ‘naughty daddy’ yet again before flipping around and laying flat on her stomach, her face now inches from the camera as she stuck out her tongue, yet again.

He sighed, asking, “Are all teen girls so ... squiggly!”

She just giggled ... yet again.

Their next ‘date’ Saturday came, but he was having second thoughts. This was getting very inappropriate. He almost canceled, making up some excuse, but he missed her so badly and knew it would crush her as well. So...

At the mall, she hauled him by the hand to the store she wanted, Victoria’s Secret. As soon as he followed her in, he knew he was in trouble. All around him were skimpy clothes and skimpily dressed young women. She sat him down in a chair a bit too close to the dressing room and then disappeared.

As he sat trying to avoid eye contact with young ladies coming in and out of the dressing room, including at least one or two that seemed to like his male gaze. At 39, he was still physically fit, considering that since the divorce, he had spent most of his free time at the gym and at five foot eleven, not too bad of height. His hair had just a tad of gray that his daughter said made him look more dashing. One young woman, maybe barely 21, came out of the dressing room, saw his eyes on her, did a little smile, and then spun in the mirrors, checking out her satin cami pajama set. As she turned facing the mirrors, she glanced at his reflection as his eyes were focused on her cute little barely covered bottom. She finished her spin and pranced back into the dressing room, swishing her butt at him as if she were a runway model. He sighed, only to be roused from his imagination as his own little girl, bright with smiles and loaded with clothes, rushed by laughing at him and ready to show him her new things.

For the next half hour, his senses were overloaded with lace bras, hip huggers and shorties, all pastel pink, purple, and baby blue. Then there was that baby doll lingerie outfit, flashing things that a young teen shouldn’t show. He nervously glanced this way and that, hoping no one was watching this underage vixen and his reactions to her. He wiped his brow and was so glad when she finally finished that he didn’t hesitate handing over his credit card, just to get out of that store. Actually, she had settled on just the bras and panties, figuring that her mom wouldn’t be pleased if she wore the sexy sleepwear or lace body wear.

But that was apparently only the beginning.

Next up was Rue21, then Aeropostale, Zumiez and more where she ended up with more worn-out jeans that somehow fit every curve of her body, a track outfit that would have the guys running after her and a burgundy romper overall mini-dress that showed off her long legs while making her look even younger and sexier. She added several pairs of shoes; tennis and sandals in different styles and colors. He bought them all for her. She had him wrapped around her finger and loved every moment of making him so uncomfortable.