My name is Jemima Jones. I’m a brainiac and a big nerd. Most boys find me annoying. My teachers, and in fact most adults, like to have me around.

I just got my first blast of puberty hormones and got my first crush that was about adult stuff, or at least my mammalian reproductive drive. I know it’s dumb. I know I’m entirely too young to get pregnant, let alone become a mother, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting my crush to mate with me, fuck my brains out as frequently as possible, make me his, and breed me. I want to have lots of sex and lots of babies with my crush until menopause takes away my fertility but keep on having as much sex as possible until one of us dies.

My crush has NO idea I lust after him. He is one of the few scrupulously honorable men still alive in this messed up world, so he’ll need a lot of convincing. I’m planning on using old fashioned seduction using scandalous lingerie and classic pin-up poses to show off my budding breasts and tight bottom in ways that will elicit a male mating response that will deprive his brain of enough blood, and therefore oxygen, to let me bend him to my will.

It’s Christmas day. My dad is feeling nostalgic. My mom died a year ago today, the victim of an idiot who had too much spiked eggnog before he got in his Charger.

I’ve been softening up my crush for several weeks. I switched from wearing baggy tee shirts and cotton granny panties to bed in favor of satin camisoles and either matching boy shorts or tap pants. I chose those two styles over bikinis or thongs because the leg openings are loose around my thighs and without even trying, I would flash my naked labia because it was so easy to see up my panties. It seemed sexier and more seductive to give a beaver shot, although my pussy is completely hairless, you can’t really compare my smooth, slick nether lips with a furry rodent. I stopped hanging out in my room most of the time and made sure I was running around the house where daddy could see me.

I tried to act like my idol, Emma Watson, and look like a remake of the “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” music video. In other words, I displayed my blossoming body sensually and casually rather than parading my ripening figure in front of his face. In the last year, daddy and I have begun to discuss anything and everything without the embarrassment most dads and daughters usually have, that gets in the way of communication and closeness. Dad told me that Emma is his fantasy celebrity because she is multi-dimensional. He says that some actresses look like they only have one purpose in life, visually arousing males. That leads to the assumption that they look so hot because their true calling is being fucked senseless. If a man sees some value in a sexy looking woman as a mother, it may shift his perception to seeing her purpose in life as getting bred, getting pregnant, and having babies. Dad says that while a guy will inevitably respond to those kinds of women, my dad personally would quickly lose interest unless she has other characteristics, like a good sense of humor or a sporty nature so they can do something like go hiking, or biking, or camping together. He says that different pics of Emma make him see her in many different roles. Most often, he hears that Cindi Lauper song when he sees Emma’s little, “I’ve got a secret,” kind of smile. Other times he sees the elegant woman marketing her latest movie at some event. In that setting, it’s obvious Emma has a brain and is more than just a body and sex object. Some pics make dad see her as a young wife, out with her new husband, embarking on a new adventure. Daddy says that when Emma’s pics feature her in a bikini, lingerie, or even a panty shot, he has an emotional response more than a purely physical desire to rip her clothes off and throw her on the closest horizontal surface. That means he can envision caring about her as much as he wants to screw her. Dad says he feels like he wants to cherish and cuddle Emma until she is aroused and as eager to give her body as he is to take her. If she had the same level of desire he did, he’d want to give her all the pleasure she could stand.

Inevitably, dad’s semi-caveman thoughts on the subject influenced my thinking about the man I wanted to give myself to, and that led me to think about how to make myself irresistible to my father. Yes, my crush is my daddy. I hope someday soon I can make daddy feel that way about me, and after cuddling me a while, he’ll realize my naked female body is the one he can’t wait to fuck for eternity and that I’m the girl he wants to spend his time with for the rest of his life.

I understand that fathers are not culturally acceptable lovers and mates for almost all daughters. My logic gives dad an overwhelming advantage for his ability to make and keep commitments. Dad didn’t crawl into a bottle or anesthetize himself with some drug when we lost mom. He jumped into being a single parent with both feet. Daddy didn’t spend time feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t just try to maintain the routine we had, he thought about my age and what aspects of my personality were age appropriate to develop and how to be the best dad specifically for me.

Dad took me to different kinds of sports events, giving me a chance to see if there was a sport I liked to watch. He was really great about not imposing his likes on me and letting me choose for myself. We also went to high school events so I could see what kinds of sports girl’s teams competed in and what individual sports were open to female athletes. Dad took me on hikes, bike tours, camping trips and dad had me take a hunting safety class before he took me deer hunting. I can shoot safely and accurately. If I had to, I could kill and dress a deer if I needed the meat to survive. I can do what needs to be done and not fall apart crying for Bambi.

Dad taught me how to do lots of things that boys often choose for dates, like miniature golf, bowling, roller skating, and playing video games. It was pretty funny that the thing I turned out to like best and to be really good at, was sailing. Dad and I moved up through the small boat classes where we could match race by putting handicap weights in my boat. We watched lots of YouTube sailing channels together, and talked about where we would like to sail a cruising boat. I had fantasies about anchoring in the lagoon of a tropical atoll, swimming naked with daddy, and getting him worked up enough to lose control, throw me on the bed, and take me the way I’d always dreamed he would.

Christmas morning, I made breakfast for us, and we drank coffee together. We did stockings for each other with small presents. I did the present distribution thing in a way that took advantage of the situation to let daddy see my tiny tits when I bent forward to hand him a present. I could feel his eyes caressing my hard, pointy nipples when my emerald, green satin camisole gapped at the neckline. I could definitely smell my girl juice as well as feel it dripping down my thighs. My body was making sure I was prepared to be mated and my brain wanted my dad to be the man to mate with me. Apparently, daddy still saw me as a little girl who needed protecting, not as a woman who craved a good fucking. I felt disappointed in my failure as a seductress and wondered if it was my itty-bitty titties that kept dad from lusting after me.

When Dad gave me my presents, they were all sailing gear like foulies and sea boots. The last present was a seabag. Dad told me to pack the seabag for a week. It can get cold and nasty this time of year, even though the latitude number doesn’t seem that big, so I packed things to keep me warm. I realized that daddy had some kind of surprise for me that he was excited enough about to be blind to my female charms and the overtly slutty way I was displaying my body to him. That let me forget about feeling like my body was inadequate and made me determined to keep up my seduction efforts until I got daddy to see me as a female in heat and in need of being bred.

The great thing about sexy lingerie is that it doesn’t take up much room. I was able to fit a red satin chemise and boy short set, a black satin chemise and tap pants set, and a white lace baby doll and G-string that made me look more naked than when I didn’t have anything on, into the spaces between my sweats, long underwear, and wool socks. I didn’t know where we were going, but I wanted to be prepared to seduce daddy and get his body in my bed and his male appendage inside my body if I had the smallest chance, on this trip.

I was pretty surprised when dad turned into the parking lot for the yacht harbor. Daddy had a new seabag too and he grabbed his bag and told me to get mine. He locked up the car, and I followed him to the entrance for “C” Dock. I was even more surprised when dad punched in a code on the keypad by the gate and the gate opened. Dad led the way down the dock. I was about to give myself whiplash turning my head to look at the cruising sailboats lining the dock. I smelled firewood burning and I scanned the rows of boats until I saw the one with smoke coming from the CN.[1]

From the pilothouse and ketch rig, I recognized the boat as a Colvic Victor. It’s a forty-footer that is definitely ocean capable. I knew dad had a letch for Becka on the YouTube sailing channel, “Teulu Tribe,” and we never missed an episode. While Becka’s figure is more developed than mine, she is more of a sporty girl than a glamor girl, so I hoped dad would eventually see that my curves would be similar to hers one day. Dad and I had agreed the Colvic Victor was an ideal boat for our location, where weather on the beach could go from sweltering to frigid in a few minutes. Colvic’s are old boats, but this one had new paint and new sail covers as well as new running and standing rigging. From the pattern woven into the ropes, I knew it was probably Dyneema standing rigging.

We got down to the finger pier that was on the Port side of the boat and went to the steps beside the gate in the lifelines. There were lights on in the cabin, but the curtains were closed, so I couldn’t see if anyone was aboard.

Dad said, “Welcome aboard our boat,” as he opened the hatch. I could see heat waves escaping from the cabin into the frosty air, so I quickly followed dad into the pilothouse and closed the hatch behind me.

I was shocked to see my girlfriend, Sheila sitting on the settee. She was wearing a very short red and green plaid pleated skirt, a tight, white blouse, white knee socks and black and white saddle shoes. Her red satin bra showed through her white blouse very clearly. I had to admit she was projecting an, “I’m a slut, come TAKE me” image, quite successfully. She was sort of half-reclining in a sexy way. She gave my dad a big smile and spread her legs, giving him a panty shot. I was surprised to see a big wet spot on the gusset of the red satin bikini panties she was wearing. I was more than a little pissed off that my best friend was obviously more successful at being seductive and looking desirable to my father.

Sheila said, “Hi big guy! You know I’ve been feeling tragically empty since you went home the other night.”

I yelled, “Now just a damn minute! You are not allowed to seduce my father, bitch, that’s MY job.”

Dad stuttered, “I didn’t intend for Sheila to be your stepmom, Jem, I was hoping you girls could be more like sisters. I never intended to fall in love with your girlfriend, and I never dreamed she would fall in love with me, let alone want me to make love to her. Once that happened, I thought I’d keep being your dad and Sheila would live with us. I thought you would still be best friends and that you wouldn’t mind Sheila being my lover because you couldn’t possibly care about who I slept with as long as she didn’t try to act like your mother.”

I said, “I wanted to give you my virginity tonight, dad. That’s why I care. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was hoping that once we were fucking, you would fall in love with me too. I think I might be a nymphomaniac, so I don’t want to have to share you. I don’t think I’d get laid enough to keep me from feeling out of my mind horny all the time if someone else is getting your energy and your sperm too. Emotionally, I don’t want to share your love because I love you so much, I want to be the only girl you give your love to. Please don’t tell me my supposed best friend has already given you a simultaneous lap dance and pole dance.”

Sheila said, “He made me feel like a porn star, the way he made me dance on his big, thick pole. I never had multiple orgasms before, Jem, and I’m not giving that up, so you can get over it and come to bed and help me take care of your dad’s monster, or you can walk the plank.”

Dad said, “Wait a minute, Jem. What do you mean you want to give me your virginity?”

I said, “Exactly what it sounds like, daddy. I’m a virgin. I want you to pop my cherry so you can get all of your big dick inside me, then fuck my little brains out all night long, and keep doing it as often as I can get you hard, for the rest of our lives.”

Sheila said, “See, Dan, I told you that you are a stud and that all the girls want to get filled up with your thick candy cane.”

I said, “Slut-face, I mean Sheila, did my daddy pick your cherry?”

Sheila said, “I wish! Unfortunately, I gave mine up in the back seat of a Senior Letterman’s car. He might have great eye-hand coordination, but he didn’t know my pussy from a hole in the ground and had no clue what to do once he got his knob inside me.”

I said, “Cunt-face, I mean Sheila, do you think my daddy can take care of two sluts at once?”

Sheila laughed and said, “Maybe after I get stretched out a little and his power pole doesn’t rub me raw, I might be able to test his endurance and recovery capacity, but right now, I’m walking funny and feeling gloriously stuffed and well used all the time from just one fuck a day. I’m pretty sure your dad can get hard often enough to fuck me once a day and screw you as many times a day as you want.”

I said, “Daddy, I masturbate so much, I’m pretty sure I’m a Nymphomaniac. Do you think you can take care of my former best friend and your virgin slut daughter too?”

Dad said, “I’m still having trouble with the idea that you want me to be your first. Shouldn’t it be some dreamy boy?”

I said, “According to everything I’ve read, boys have short fuses. Twat-face here, says you know how to push her magic button excellently, while Mr. Football couldn’t even find how to touch her in ways that didn’t hurt. My reading says that’s a common problem with boys. My experience says that dreamy boys don’t listen, so even if I told that type of guy what to do, he wouldn’t be able to rub me the right way. Boys cheat. Boys spread STIs. Boys talk. Boys get a girl pregnant when she doesn’t want to be. I know you wouldn’t do any of those bad things, but I’m positive you would make love to me the very best any man could. I’d rather go for the sure thing with you than take a chance with a Mr. Dreamy.”

Sheila said, “When you get done being dramatic, we can talk about how your daddy can be my lover and my daddy too. I think if you keep an open mind and try girl on girl loving, you could let me take care of you while daddy is recovering. That way, you’d get as many orgasms as you need every day, even if I start to need a good fucking more than once a day, but our daddy can’t get it up as many times as we both need his dick. I’d have a daddy to love me for the first time, so emotionally I’m going to be in a better place, so I’ll be sweet and easy to get along

with. You and I can share the work required to keep a house and take care of a man. Finally, daddy could have a nice little two girl harem, so he feels like the stud he is and that you and I need. That kind of confidence might help him get a boner every time one of us needs to get laid. If you can stop being selfish for long enough to understand the advantages of sharing your daddy with me, we could all get what we need, and all be happy.”