Chapter 1

I was short of breath, or atleast I felt that way. The scent of subtle perfume was lingering in my daughter's room, mixed with the scent of newly washed clothes laying on her bed. I didn't know why I was in there; well, yes, I did know. I wanted to smell her perfume, perhaps dream a bit of her. I was a horror to myself. More and more I was losing control; it was my own daughter, but every time I saw her, she looked less and less like my little girl.

She had turned fourteen a few months ago, and she was looking more and more like a young woman, though still small in frame. Perhaps that was it... yes, that was it. Her breasts were small, her ass was tight, her hips pushed out slighly, she was just like a smaller version of a woman- everything was there, just smaller. She was still quite thin, maybe not even a hundred pounds, though she was not very tall.

An image of her thin thighs sticking from her skirt shot through my mind. The idea of her panty-clad little pussy that lay just inches down those thighs, made my cock flex with blood, pressing firmly against my pants. I had to move quickly from her room.

I tried to catch my breath as I stood in the hall. I did, though my cock stayed in a state of half-erection, creating a large bulge in the front of my pants. I thought about relieving myself with a quick whack-off, but masterbation had never appealled to me. I needed the real thing.

I gazed at the clock, it was already a quarter to three. Farah, my dear girl, would be home soon, and I thought about her again.

Ever since my lovily wife had left me, Farah was the only girl in my life. A sex-life was nonexistant, not out of any lack on my part. I have had a few flings here and there, and couple of one-nighters, but nothing consistant - which I needed: a constant source of pussy. Listen to me, I thought, going on like some pervert -- then I remembered I had just been thinking about my daughter and my cock was swelling in my pants-- I was a pervert.

The door suddenly opened and closed, and I heard my daughter drop her bag in the foyer. I moved downstairs and looked, almost frozen, at her. She was wearing a tight button-down shirt that hugged her small breast, almost presenting them to me. Her flat belly partly exposed, as the shirt was a bit too short. I looked her over, hoping she would not notice. Her thighs pushed out from her short skirt, which barely made it halfway down them, the sight pulling my eyes up. The skirt pushed firmly against her hips, emphasizing the subtle outward flow of them from her waist, and the gentle outward curve of her firm ass, which came fluidicly from the small indent of her lower back. It was an outfit her mother would have not let her out of the house wearing, but I was more than happy to have her walking around in it.

"Hi," she said, snapping me out of my daze. I looked up at her face.

"Hi, sweety," I said, looking at her large brown eyes. "How was your day?"

"It was OK," she said, looking at me, her long brown hair combed back, running down along her back.

She smiled at me and I smiled back as she walked past me. "I'm going to take a nap," she said.

"Ok," I told her, "I'll wake you when I have dinner ready." I turned my head as she headed towards the stairs and looked at her firm ass, rubbing against the fabric of her skirt. My cock twitched.

It took a lot of effort for me to pull my head away from her ass as she walked up the stairs. I sniffed the air, making out the subtle scent of her fruit-scented shampoo.

I tried to take my mind off of her as I prepared some food for the both of us, but the thought of her just upstairs, laying asleep on her bed was too much for me. I put some things in the oven and I crept upstairs.

I was very quiet as I opened the door to her room gently. I heard a light, constant breathing as I opened the door. I looked in and saw her laying on top of her bed, one arm folded across her stomach, the other along her side.

I entered her room slowly, not taking my eyes off of her thin frame as I did. I stood by her bed, gazing at her slender legs, tracing them up her body until they disappeared beneath her skirt. I watched as her breathing pressed her chest even more tightly against her shirt. My eyes moved back down to where her stomach peeked out from her shirt and back down along her skirt. I trembled as I looked at her, I needed to touch her, to feel her skin. I reached out, slowly lowering my hand. My hand shook as I did. Carefully my hand pressed against her thigh, just above her knee. My cock was instantly hard as I felt the warmth of her skin. It felt so smooth as I rubbed my hand along it. I looked up at her to make sure she was still asleep as my hand lifted higher until it reached the hem of her skirt.

I was losing control of myself and my other hand reached to my pants and rubbed along the length of my cock trapped inside them. I pushed my hand a bit higher, pushing the hem of her skirt up with it, and squeezed. Farah rustled about as I did it, forcing me to pull my hand away. I paused, startled by it, and stared at her, making sure she did not wake up. After a moment, I was sure she hadn't and I returned my hand to the soft flesh of her thigh. When she had moved her legs had seperated a bit and I was able to run my fingers down the inside of her thigh. With each passing moment I got more daring, and my hand crept slowy up, raising the hem of her skirt a centimeter at a time. I watched her closed eyes carefully, some of her long hair draped across them, as my fingers moved a bit further down her inner thigh. The further down her thigh I got the warmer the feeling on my hand. My cock felt like it was going to burst from my pants. I moved my fingers up and down, letting the tips of my fingers gently graze the skin inside her thigh.

Suddenly I was startled by the timer going off on the oven. I jumped, my hand pulling back from her leg, and I stood up. The timer had brought me back to reality; I looked around as if I were in a strange place, and I looked down at my daughter. I smiled, for whatever reason I'm not sure, but I shook her softly on her shoulder, and she looked up at me through a few wayward strands of hair with her large brown eyes, smiling.

"Dinner is almost ready," I told her, as if nothing I had done ever happened.

"Ok, I'll be down in a minute," she said.

I turned my back to her, and walked out of her room, leaving the door open a crack behind me.

It was not all that great of a meal, but it wasn't like we weren't used to it. I sat across from Farah as we ate, and said very little to her. We did not talk much, nor had we ever; we were like strangers to one another, but quite comfortable, it seemed, with our impersonal relationship, like two long-time coworkers who simply nodded at one another as they crossed: friendly, somewhat, but still quite cold and distant. We were two figures, passing by eachother constantly in tiny circles, stopping for only short moments to share a smile.

We ate rather quickly, as we always did, and I cleaned up the kitchen as she poked at the last scraps of her dinner.

"Dad?" she turned to me, asking.

I looked over at her. "Yes?"

"Is it alright if Jackie spends the night?" She asked me in an almost half-expectant tone, as if she didn't really have to bother asking.

It was true, she did not have to ask, the answer was always 'yes.' Although it was not the most favored of circumstances to put myself into, because her friend was, quite literally, the biggest tease I had ever come accross. Though she was, as my daughter, only fourteen, her body had no intentions of looking the part. She could easily pass for someone much older. She knew it too. Though she did not dress in a fashion that would show her off to be a tease, or even a slut, her attitude made up for it. Needless to say she was torture for me to be around, but torture is quite addictive when done in the right way, and she sure was torture in the right way.

"That would be fine," I told her, and she simply turned back around and continued poking at her food.

We went our seperate ways when I had finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Farah went to call her friend from her room. I, however, stayed downstairs, in the quiet, darkening livingroom. I was bored, completely and to no end. I pondered what could have been done: watch television, read a book. All the same to me, and I was not in the mood. I sat in the dark livingroom at one end of the couch, looking around at the shadows. Something was festering in my mind, and a strange feeling accompanied it, and made me disinterested in all other things.

I was zoned out entirely, even to the point that I didn't even hear when Jackie had shown up.

"Hey, dad!" Farah said, with an assertiveness that implied that I had not responded to some earlier remark.

I shook my head, arising from my stupor, and looked up at her. She was standing next to Jackie, who smiled at me curiously.

"Can we watch a movie?" She asked.

"Oh... sure," I said, "Go right ahead. I'll just sit here and read my book." I picked up my book from the table, though I had no real intentions of reading it.

They both smiled at me, and Jackie sat in the love seat perpendicular to the couch. She had on a farely worn pair of cargo pants, and a sleeveless shirt. She was dressed down a bit, but she could not hide her large breasts and firm ass from making their presence known. She never really dressed nicely, but no matter what she wore her dress always almost screamed that there was a great treasure buried beneath it.

I stuck my face down in the book as my daughter started the movie -- which movie I didn't know, nor really cared about -- and sat down next to her friend. I pretended to read as they became engrossed in the movie. I looked up from my book, at Jackie, at her breasts that made her shirt bulge. But no matter what splender I could see in her, my eyes drifted to my daughter, who was sitting with her legs up on the seat with her. She was in one of those possisions that young girls do out of naivete: her legs where up, folded a bit beneath her, which had forced her skirt to rise up far enough that almost all of her thigh was exposed. Only a few inches more and her panties would be exposed. My dick twitched in my pants as I looked at her, hoping she would move a bit, letting her skirt ride up entirely. It didn't happen, but I still could not take my eyes away.

I remembered the feel of her. My hand tingled as I remembered the warmth and softness of her skin, and my cock swelled, making the front of my pants bulge a bit.

Perhaps out of embarassment I looked back down to my book, gazing at it with no thought at all. It appeared to me as nothing but blocks of letters as I looked at the pages.

I looked up again, just to see Jakie's eyes quickly turn from me back onto the screen. I looked at the television, then back at her. A small grin was on her face. I tried to make nothing of it and turned to look blankly at the pages of my book again. It was only a short moment before I looked up again to see Jackie looking at me. Our eyes met for only a second before she turned away, the same small grin on her face.

"I think I'll make some popcorn," Farah suddenly said. She paused the movie, and Jackie and I both looked at her as she got up and walked to the kitchen. I then looked at Jackie, just as she was stretching with her arms above her head, making her breasts push out even more. My eyes were glued to them, and I couldn't hide it at all. She noticed me and smiled as she put her arms down. She sat up straight and looked at me, as she knew she had some power over me, which, of course, she did. Some of her blonde hair hung before her eyes.

There was a popping sound coming from the kitchen.

"So," she said to me, leaning towards me over the arm of the loveseat, letting a bit of her cleavage show from her shirt.

I put my book down on the table, and looked in her eyes, then down to her chest. All she did was smirk at me and looked down at the noticable bulge in my pants.

"Did I do that?" she asked with a smirk.

I was shocked, though not completely from knowing this girl for some time. My mind raced, I was so horny and the little bitch was teasing me. I wanted just to get up, and walk over to her. The thought had crossed my mind that I should show her a thing or two, and find out if the little slut was as experienced as she made herself out to be.

Suddenly, my daughter returned, and the bizarre stillness of the moment was gone with the pressing of the play button. Jackie gave one more little smirk at me and returned to the movie.

I lifted up my book again and pretended to read, but all the time the questions popped into me head. The wonderings about the slutty friend of my daughter's; something inside me had indeed changed. The confussion had quickly turned to focus, the indecision to decision, and the frailty I felt at the teasings of this girl had morphed into a powerful conviction. This was my game to play, not hers, and regardless of my better judgement I would follow through with anything that my passion dictated.

I pondered the strange feeling for a bit until I relized the movie had ended. I looked up at the two girls, putting my book back down, just to see my daughter stand up.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said looking at Jackie.

"OK, I'll take one when your done," she told her, and Farah made quick work of heading up the stairs.

I got up right after her and headed to the kitchen, getting myself a glass of water.

"You want something to drink?" I asked as I noticed that Jackie had followed me in.

"Oh, no thanks," she said.

I turned to look at her, sipping my water. I looked up and down her body. I heard the water for the shower go on upstairs.

Jackie smirked at me, "So, you never answered my question before."

I chuckled at her, and walked towards her, stopping just behind her and putting my glass down on the island in the middle of the kitchen. I put my hand on her shoulder and leaned in towards her. "What do you mean?" I asked. "You mean about you giving me a hard-on." I said.

She looked a bit aprehensive at first, before making a shy little smile.

"You even know what a hard-on is?" I asked her, leaning right against her ear, my hand firmly planted on her shoulder.

She hesitated for a moment. "Of course I do," she said, smiling.

"Ever seen one before?" I asked her, and I looked at her reflection in the glass of the microwave that hung above the stove. She looked a bit embarassed and said, slyly, "Yes."