Emma lay on her bed, face up and stared at the ceiling as her fingers fidgeted between her legs. She was excited. She was going to get to spend a whole weekend with Daddy and finally get some time off from her mom.

She never understood why her mom and dad ever got together in the first place because until the divorce all she’d ever seen them do was fight. Part of her confusion about why they even got married at all was because of how different their personalities and beliefs were. Trudy, her mother, was what some people would have called a prude. She didn’t believe in showing any skin except her neck, arms, and lower legs. She didn’t allow Emma to wear shorts, except in the house. No swimming was allowed because even a one piece suit showed too much skin. Emma was never allowed to be alone with a boy and her mother said she couldn’t even date until she was out of high school and out of the house. It was so oppressive Emma had thought of running away, but she had no place to go.

The only thing she had that was any fun was rubbing her young clit until explosions of happiness went off in her body. Even then, she had to be very careful of where and when she did it. Her mother had taught her to wash between her legs only with a washcloth and only then making two swipes before rinsing off. She had told Emma, “You must never, ever touch yourself there with your bare fingers. If you do, awful things will happen to you.”

No description was given of what those “awful things” consisted of, but if it was bad enough to make her mother uncomfortable, it must be truly terrible.

At least that’s what she believed until she was thirteen, and hormones flooded her body. Up until then she had dutifully done (or not done) everything Trudy stridently demanded of her. When puberty kicked in, though, her mother’s influence began to wane.

The first thing she heard was from her best friend at school, Crystal, who was only her best friend at school, because Emma wasn’t allowed to have friends come to the house.

“Have you seen that new movie with Brad Pitt in it?” Crystal had asked, at lunch one day.

“No.” Emma wasn’t allowed to see movies, either in the theater or on TV. The only time the TV was turned on in their house was during the national and local news, and if there was severe weather in the area.

“Oh my gosh!” moaned Crystal. “It made me so horny I had to rub three times before I could get to sleep.”

“Rub?” Emma was confused.

“Yeah, you know, Jill off?”

“Jill off? Who’s Jill?” asked Emma, innocently.

Crystal knew what Emma’s mom was like and what Emma’s life was like. In one sense she wasn’t surprised that Emma didn’t know about masturbating. She felt sad for her friend.

“Come with me,” said Crystal. “We can skip lunch.”

“But I’m hungry,” said Emma.

“Trust me. I’m going to show you something better than food.”

Crystal took Emma to the bathroom on the third floor of the school, way in the back. Practically nobody used it because it wasn’t on the way to anywhere. Crystal had used it before for what she was going to show her friend.

When Emma and Crystal left the bathroom, almost an hour later, Emma’s whole world had changed. She’d been aghast, at first, when Crystal raised her skirt and shoved her hand in her panties. Then, when the panties came off and Emma saw what Crystal was actually doing, she almost fainted.

But she tried it, because Crystal insisted she’d been doing this for more than a year and nothing bad had happened to her at all. Her voice also made it as clear as her name that it felt good.

And it did feel good. It felt better than good.

It was even worth missing lunch for.

After that Emma lived for three things. She lived for school, because she knew she needed scholarships to get into college. And she couldn’t wait to get in to college, away from her mother. The next thing she lived for was time alone to rub her clitty until she wanted to scream. And the third thing she lived for were the rare weekends she got to spend with her daddy.

Her father, Bob Chambers, owned a business that repaired and restored old cars. He made a decent living doing that, but the real money came from finding rare, antique cars for clients who didn’t have the time to go looking, themselves. That meant Bob spent days and days driving all over the country, stopping at farms where he saw old cars and machinery sitting around. If he found the right car and could get it at a decent price, he could make thousands before he even started on the restoration, assuming the client wanted him to do that. Actually, it would be his crew that restored it. Bob provided the work. His crew provided the expertise in making an old hunk of junk into a gleaming, gorgeous car or truck that looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

So Bob didn’t get to spend as much time with his little girl as he would have liked – or as she would have liked, too. He felt sorry for her, but Trudy had gotten the judge to give her primary custody, because she claimed his home life wasn’t stable. She had tried to claim he wasn’t moral, either. When the judge asked why and she said, “He wants to have sex as often as twice a month when I’m not even in season!” the judge said, “I’ll take that into consideration,” but smirked. Still, because Bob was on the road so much and because Emma was only six at the time, the judge had given custody to Trudy.

Over the next ten years Bob got to see Emma once a month if he was lucky. Whenever they were together his easy-going attitude about things made her feel like she was soaring free. She texted him and called him on the phone he gave her, but which she had to keep hidden because her mother had already told her she didn’t need a phone and therefore could not have one. Social media accounts, of course, were completely off the table.

Now, just anticipating spending the weekend with her father, Emma felt happy and eager, and whenever she felt happy or eager, she got horny, so she was enjoying a leisurely rub session while she waited for her father to arrive. Her mom was gone to work on one of her charity things and had told Emma to make sure the house was presentable before her father arrived.

The problem was she got so distracted with masturbating that she didn’t hear him arrive, open the door, and come inside. The first inkling she had that he was there was when her bedroom door swung open and he stepped inside, catching her as she was right on the edge of an orgasm. There was a stunned moment of silence, perhaps ten or fifteen heartbeats long, before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Honey,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy.”

What went through her head was the fact that he was seeing her with her young legs spread wide and her thong (that Crystal had given her on her 16th birthday) pulled to the side, with two of her fingers deep in her pussy ... and he hadn’t screamed at her! Her mother would have had a gigantic litter of kittens, but all he did was avert his eyes. Because there was no panic, she was able to respond more or less calmly.

“That’s okay,” she replied shyly. “I know I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Emma,” he said. “Masturbation is natural. Having the feelings you have is normal. You weren’t doing anything wrong at all.”

“That’s not what Mom would say,” she said. She removed her fingers from her pussy and adjusted the thong to cover her slit. She sat up and then stood, smoothing her top down over her hips. He turned to watch her pick up her pants and step into them. Finally she was decent. She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t be so harsh on her,” said Bob. “I don’t think she ever recovered from the divorce. I hoped she’d find a man who is like-minded and remarry. I don’t think there’s a lot of happiness in your mother’s life.”

“I don’t feel sorry for her,” Emma said cold-heartedly. “She could have been happy with you, but she refused to.”

“Maybe so,” Bob replied with a short chuckle. “Well, now that the awkwardness is behind us, come over here and give me a hug and a kiss, girl. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

She hopped off the bed and rushed to him. She hugged her dad fiercely and, when he aimed a peck at her lips, like they’d always done, somehow it turned into something longer than a peck.

Both the hug and kiss were emotional for both of them. For her part she felt a rush of passion that he was so understanding of her wants and needs. For his part, the memory of seeing her lightly-haired, plump, very grown up looking pussy with two fingers in it caused him to have what he thought of as unnatural thoughts about his little girl. How could she be sexual? And how could he wish to be sexual with her?

“So, how is school going?” he asked calmly as he backed up, trying to think of something else.

“Fine,” she replied. “All A’s as usual as I have nothing better to do with my life than study and stay home, under the bitch’s thumb.”

“You don’t have to like her, but you do have to respect her,” said Bob. “She’s your mother.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I guess she’s not a bitch. I misspelled it. She’s just a witch.”

“Whatever. You’re with me, now. We have all weekend. What do you want to do?”

“I want you to take me on a date,” she said. The idea came to her out of the blue.

“Trudy still won’t let you date anybody?” he asked her.

“Of course not, Daddy, and all of my friends get to talk about how great their dating life is and how much they enjoy it. Most of them have had sex, even, and here I am, still a virgin.”

“I’m not unhappy about you being a virgin,” he said. “I’m relieved, in fact.”

He didn’t like the vision of some amorphous faced boy on top of his little girl, rutting between her legs. His eyes fell down to her pert, modest breasts underneath her t-shirt, then her flat stomach. He already knew what her pussy looked like, and he imagined how his cock would feel sliding into it for the first time as her head fell backwards in ecstasy. He shook his head and looked away.

“What kind of date do you want to go on?” he asked.

“A romantic one,” she said.

“You want romance, from your withered, old father?” He grinned.

“First of all, you’re hardly withered. And you’re not that old, either. And I love you already. I know you love me, too. So some romance wouldn’t be strange at all between us.”

“I see,” he said.

“Plus you’ve seen me ... intimately ... which is more than any other boy has.”

The vision of her luscious, womanly pussy leapt back into his mind. She might be just sixteen, but her body looked years older than that.

“True,” he said. “Do you know what happens on ... romantic dates?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Except for what girls at school describe, and half the time they’re probably lying. That’s why I want you to take me on a date. I want to find out what happens on a romantic date!”

She hugged him again and his right hand slid down her perfectly arched back and stroked back and forth innocently as it slowly got lower and lower, until it slid gently over her tight little ass. He quickly jerked his hand back up.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized profusely. “I shouldn’t hug you that way.”

“Isn’t that how we’d hug if we were on a date?” she asked.

On her part Emma loved the hug. His hands felt so good. She still was horny from her previous unfulfilled masturbation session. The touch and the cologne he wore aroused her further. Purely by instinct she pushed her loins against his and he turned his hips so she wouldn’t feel his erection.

“I remember when I was your age, before I was allowed to date. I managed to get alone with a girl or two. So ... how far have you ever been with someone, Emma?” he questioned softly.

“Well, only at school. I’ve kissed a couple of boys, and one of them put his hand on my breast, but that’s all,” she admitted, shyly.

“Can I ask you a more personal question without you getting embarrassed?”

“Sure,” replied Emma.

“What ... or who ... were you thinking about as you were masturbating before I walked in here?”

“I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” she said, against his chest.

“You can tell me anything, Darling,” he said. Since she didn’t mind, his hand was back on her firm ass.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” she delayed.

“I promise.”

“I was thinking about ... um ... spending time with you,” she almost whispered.

“Like that?” His voice held surprise.

“Kind of,” she moaned. “It was all misty in my brain. I just thought about you while I did it.”

“I see. So is that why you want to go on a romantic date with Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” she sighed.

Bob wasn’t a prude, like his ex-wife. He didn’t have a lot of romance in his life and his personal belief was that you only became intimate with a woman you really cared for. He hadn’t had a woman like that in his life for several years. The last one had wanted more commitment than he’d been able to give her and they’d broken up. Now his mind ranged to the only romance he had enjoyed while he was on the road. That involved porn sites and his own hand. He’d seen some porn sites he’d resisted, because they made him think of his daughter.

Now he felt something new, something he couldn’t push away, but he needed to know how she really felt before he did anything more than just feel her ass.

“That might make you a daddy’s girl,” he said, carefully. “Have you ever heard of a daddy’s girl?”

She shook her head.

“Where’s your laptop?” he asked.

She let go of him and got the computer. He flipped it open and immediately found that parental controls prevented him from doing what he intended. He knew Trudy’s password, though. She always used the same password, no matter what she was doing.

As soon as he had “de-Trudy’d” the laptop he typed in a web site. Then he searched for: “Daddy’s Girl”.

The images that came up shook and shocked Emma. It was of girls and women ... naked! And they were with men who were also naked! And not only that, the girls and women all claimed that it was their very own father they were naked with!

“They’re having sex!” she gasped.

“Uh huh. There are certain girls and women who call themselves daddy’s girls. They like to have sex with their fathers. Some of them even have their father’s baby.”

“No way!” gasped Emma.

“But that’s not what you were thinking about ... right?”

She didn’t know how to answer. All her fantasies about sex had been misty, unformed. The only thing solid was her fingers, rubbing her clitty, making orgasms shake her body. The rest of it was a fog. Now that she did think about it, though, the idea of being naked with her daddy was exciting. She got very strange feelings in the region of her tummy and it made her pussy leak.

“Not then,” she breathed.

“But now?” he asked, carefully.

“Why do I have to answer that?” she moaned.

“Because if you want to go on a romantic date I need to know just exactly how romantic to make it,” he said. “I don’t want to pressure you into being a daddy’s girl, but if you are one, then I need to know that.”

Emma didn’t know what to say.

“Okay, how about if I just say I never thought about it before, but now that I do it’s ... um ... interesting?”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Get dressed up and I’ll take you on a date.”

“What should I wear?”

“Something sexy,” he said.

“I don’t think I have anything like that,” she replied. “Mom won’t let me get those kinds of clothes.”

“Okay, then, shopping first.”

“She needs a little black dress with all the trimmings,” he whispered to the sales lady at the posh clothing store he took her to.

“Leave it to me,” said the woman, with a smile.

Half an hour later Emma stepped out of the dressing room and whirled before her seated father.

“Well?” she asked.

She felt wicked. The dress had almost no back in it and she couldn’t wear a bra with it. She knew her nipples were making dents in the black fabric that covered her breasts. The underwear she now had on consisted of another thong, this one black, lacy and so sheer her blond pubes showed right through the panel on the front. Her thigh-high stockings were held up by a garter belt, the first she’d ever worn, and the heels she wore made her feel wobbly. The sales lady had said she’d have to buy the panties and stockings if she tried them on, and Daddy had said that was fine. Now he looked at her with eyes that were different, somehow. He looked ... hungry.

“Delicious,” he said. “Every man who sees you will be jealous of me.”

“Good,” she said.

“She’ll wear it out,” he said to the sales woman, handing her his card.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as she held his arm and walked very carefully in the four inch heels.

“Dinner and maybe some dancing,” he said.

He took her to an Italian restaurant she’d never been to before. Trudy didn’t believe on “wasting” money on restaurant food, especially the expensive kind. So this was a new experience for Emma as the waiter fussed over her and tended to her every need. No one in the place thought she could be any younger than nineteen, or so. She looked like a healthy college girl out on a date with her sugar daddy. She didn’t realize the young waiter was enthralled with her beauty, but Bob smiled as he watched her own a complete stranger without even knowing it.

There was no place in town to dance that wasn’t a bar or loud club and Bob didn’t feel like being in crowds or a loud atmosphere, so he just took her to his house. He put on music and she kicked off her high heels, melting against him to hold him while they just swayed to the music.

She looked up at him and he kissed her. It was not a simple daddy/daughter peck. This kiss was filled with passion that burned brighter and brighter until his tongue was in her mouth. It was her first French kiss but she loved it and pushed her tongue back. From her perspective, it had been a perfect date.