It was nearly two weeks since Paul had rescued his daughter, fourteen year old Harleigh, from terrorists in the UN building in New York, and still she had not spoken, and had nightmares almost every night. Paul, or Sharon his wife, were almost constantly with her, or at least, never very far away, to try and reassure her.

Sharon had recently finished her Healthy Eating cookery book, and had had to go back to New York to meet with her publishers. She'd taken their son, eleven year old Alexander, but Harleigh was too terrified of New York, so she and Paul had stayed at home.

That evening they'd had a quiet evening in, before Harleigh had gone to bed about nine pm. About one and a half hours later, Paul had heard Harleigh scream as yet another nightmare came. He hurried into her room and sat on the side of the bed, stroking her fine hair gently.

"It's okay baby," he whispered, "everything is just fine now, it's all gone, Daddy's here."

Harleigh sat bolt upright in bed in terror, and almost tumbled out of the far side before she realised that it was her father, and she was no longer dreaming. Her face relaxed from its terror, and she fell into her fathers arms, sobbing once again. He hugged her tightly, reaching out to snap on the bedroom light.

Paul was a little startled to see that his daughter was sleeping in nothing more than a skimpy pair of panties and a cut off t-shirt that barely hid her small breasts. Paul looked at her reflection in the mirror behind her, and saw that she had become a very beautiful young woman. His arms were still around her, her breasts pressing against his chest, and to his horror he felt himself starting to erect.

Harleigh was still sobbing gently as she held her father, and didn't realise anything at first. When she felt the hardness against her belly, the sobbing gradually stopped, but she didn't release him, wondering about the hardness, knowing what it was, but wondering why. She still felt trapped in the UN building, but this hardness, evidence of genuine desire, was something completely new. She pressed herself a little more tightly against it, feeling it getting even harder. When her fathers hands, currently on her back, began to slide down towards her butt, she looked up into his eyes. and saw astonishment, love, lust and a little fear.

"Daddy," she whispered. The first time she'd spoken in two weeks. She reached up and kissed him on the mouth. "Oh daddy," she murmured, and kissed him much harder. Almost without realising it, Paul began to join in, his hands now gripping and fondling her butt tightly. Sliding his hands into her panties, he gripped her buttocks and pulled her firmly against him.

Harleigh's whole body was on fire, her pussy wet with unknown lust, her nipples like organ stops. She didn't know what was about to happen, but whatever it was she wasn't about to let it stop. With an instinct born of her lust, she opened her fathers flies and reached in to take hold of his hard cock.

Paul gasped and pushed her gently back onto the bed where he could pull her panties down. The sight of her small bush of dark pubic hair excited him, and his fingers began a gentle exploration of her damp cleft. Harleigh was moaning with unsuppressed need, unaware of anything except her fathers touch. She gave another cry as she felt his mouth on a nipple, and then her legs were being slowly spread apart.