Debbie Does Daddy
by Sonarflash2026
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Incest Sex Story: This is the original of Laurie Loves Daddy. When submitting, I thought I had to use a different title. So, I made changes and enhancements. A lonely, blind widower is listening to erotic audio books, failing to achieve sexual gratification. When his latest atempt at masturbation falters, he realizes his daughter of sixteen is in the bedroom. Despite guilt and initial protest, her touch, kisses, love and compassionate sensuality break down barriers. His arousal recovers, with a shocki
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Incest Father Daughter Cream Pie First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Safe Sex Squirting .
A blind widower, I was lost in a fantasy, trying to satisfy physical urges by listening to an erotic, historical romance. Actually, it was just porn in an audio book MP3 file format. Since I had been sighted as a teen, my photographic memory was intact. With little effort, I could visualize anything. The description of a lurid scene with large breasts, a corset and silky pantalettes had initially gotten me hard, lending the hope that I might find a few seconds of pleasure and that ultimate release.
Since losing my wife to cancer a little over four years earlier, that seemed to be happening less and less. Thoughts of Belinda’s suffering kept intruding. Grief and sorrow were a snare, repeatedly quenching sexual urges. As my erection started wilting, I groaned out a complaint and tried harder, beating my softening dick.
A movement of air brushed my cheek, further disturbing my fantasy, all but killing the tenuous arousal. A whiff of Belinda’s perfume momentarily confounded me.
‘A ghostly visitation?’
That seductive blend of musk and lilac was very familiar. Two years before she passed away, it had become my wife’s favorite scent. I’d purchased a very expensive bottle for an anniversary she hadn’t survived to celebrate. Since turning fourteen, our daughter appropriated the unused bottle of perfume, constantly dabbing on her mom’s favorite scent. For nearly two years, I’d suffered the agony oof recurring boners when Debbie came near, trailing that fragrance. A hug or chaste kiss on the cheek was enough to stir up a moment of incestuous lust, leaving me shaken and wanting, along with being riddled with guilt.my hugged me
This night, my visitor wasn’t a ghost. By that fragrance alone, I knew that Debbie was nearby. Jolted from my attempt at masturbation, I remembered that my bedroom door hadn’t been locked. I jerked up the sheet and blanket, raising knees, desperately covering the lower half of my naked body. I jerked out earbuds.
“Debbie?” I breathed, hoping it was my imagination. It wasn’t. My sixteen-year-old daughter was right there. She leaned against the bed and I felt the mattress shift. Knowing I liked tactile contact, her fingers lightly brushed across my right shoulder.
“God, I hope you didn’t see,” I said lamely.
She huffed out a breath. I wasn’t certain, but it sure sounded like my daughter had stifled a giggle. “I needed a cuddle dad,” Debbie said, unable to hide the smile in her voice. “Couldn’t sleep. Was hoping to climb into bed with you and maybe talk over a couple of things. Sorry for ... interrupting your fun.”
My cheeks heated as I realized there would be plenty of light spilling in from the hall. I might be blind, but she must have seen everything. I took a couple of deep, slow breaths.
“Don’t sweat it. Doesn’t matter,” I told her, I said, trying to sound casual. “Lately, it hasn’t been working for me.”
“I’m sorry dad,” she murmured, fingers stroking lightly across my shoulder. “Is it because of mom?”
“Yeh,” I sighed. “I keep thinking about her ... and her suffering. Fantasy and erotic romances just aren’t working for me.”
“Veronica Davis is cute, and she’s available,” Debbie teased with the hint of a giggle. “I can tell that she has a thing for you.”
I blew out a breath. “Ronnie is married!”
“Ronnie eh?” She giggled. “Well, her hubby is half dead from strokes, and always in bed, or asleep in his wheelchair. The way she looks at you with those brown bedroom eyes, and brings you baked things, I’m pretty certain she’s trying to seduce you.”
“That’s inappropriate!” I said, trying hard to not laugh and still act stern. “You shouldn’t even suggest that, and besides, I’m not attracted to her, so it probably wouldn’t work out, even if she is desperate. Anyhow, you didn’t come in here to tease me about Ronnie, so what’s up?”
“Like I said, I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to cuddle,” she said quietly, fingers making little circles on my still bare chest. “I ... have this ... problem,” she murmured, the circling fingertips wandering closer and closer to my right nipple. “When I saw you jerking off ... well, that kind of put everything in perspective for me.”
Paternal alarms went off and I immediately thought of teen pregnancy, STD’s and older teen boys. I’d been randy in those years, though generally unsuccessful when it came to girls. I remembered all too well how I’d spent those last few years before losing my eyesight. If I wasn’t trying to get laid, I was mentally undressing girls instead of paying attention in class. High school had been a sexually frustrating time, which my accident with home-made explosives compounded. I had been as misogynistic as other young men, but instant blindness, along with a year of recovery, rehab training and counselling forced a radical adjustment. Now, as the parent of a teenage gymnast, I felt dread.
“What everything? What did seeing me jerking off do?”
““It turned me on,” she admitted, “I know you miss mom, so I was kind of thinking we could talk about me ... giving you a little sugar? I’d like to help make you happy, if you want?”
My mind jolted. I wasn’t expecting that. Then, Debbie scooched up and leaned over me, pressing soft lips on my cheek. Modest, very firm breasts pressed into my chest through the silk of a nightie. When her rigid little nipples stroked over my bare skin, my groin surged. The contact was electric, disconcerting, and, combined with her mother’s perfume, a long, loose fall of silky hair and my daughter’s warm breath, the situation was unavoidably arousing. The abrupt stimulation was intense and totally disorienting.
Before I could recover a little sanity, Debbie was on the bed, sprawled half atop me and nuzzling my face. A moist kiss slid to the corner of my mouth.
“We both miss her,” Debbie whispered in a gentle, sympathetic tone, the tip of her tongue gliding over my lips while the fingers of her right hand began circling and plucking at my nipple. “I know I can help you. Let me love you Daddy. Let me give you relief?”
‘Daddy.’ Hearing that jarred me in a different way. Debbie hadn’t used that endearment since her mother died. When she called me dad, or referred to me as her ‘father’ when bringing home other teen girls, I felt a curious disconnect. Now, when she called me daddy, my heart melted.
“Debbie,” I managed on a groan. “Honey, sweetie, you can’t! You shouldn’t be thinking this! You’re my daughter! It’s wrong in so many ways.”
“I already know I’m your daughter,” she said teasingly, mobile lips caressing mine, her words a soft, warm breath tickling my cheeks. “That doesn’t stop me from having these feelings daddy. However inappropriate, I find myself wanting you this way, too.” With nimble ease, she slid atop me, tossing a leg across my waist. her mouth took possession of mine with aggressive skill, cutting off any further protest.
My hands settled on her waist, gripping slippery silk. I intended lifting her much too nubile body off me and the bed. Instead, her small but powerful hands snaked under my shoulders, then her bare feet kicked under the covers, wrapping about my thighs. With tenacious strength, She clung fast, making it impossible to lift her off without exerting brute force.
“I’m staying daddy,” her lips murmured against mine. “Even if you won’t do anything. Even if it’s just to kiss and cuddle and sleep with you.”
Her small pointed breasts rubbed back and forth through her silk nightie, pressing firmly into me, communicating her determination. Meanwhile, her tongue kept darting insistently.
Without conscious volition, I opened my mouth. I couldn’t have managed speech, then lost myself in her kiss. Flavored with minty toothpaste, her tongue invaded, thrusting deep, keeping in rhythm with narrow, gymnast hips that began rocking against my groin.
Already stirring, my cock responded, erection swiftly recovering. My body arched, the hardening ridge encountering a tangle of bedding.
“Debbie,” I gasped around her lips and tongue. “You shouldn’t! You’re only sixteen! There are laws! I could end up in prison!”
“Never!” For a moment, her head drew back, breaking a kiss. “Only you and I need to know,” she stated emphatically, her nose touching mine, her voice firm. “I won’t ever tell daddy, and I need this as much as you. I’ve loved you and imagined us making love since I was twelve. I need you. I want you happy again!”
Her right hand released my shoulder, reaching back to jerk down sheet and blanket. Her foot kicked off the covers and only the filmy material of her nightie was between us. That only lasted another second. She jerked up her nightie and the heat of vulva folds and pubic hair pressed down against a fully recovered erection.
She wrapped a small hand and long, slender fingers around my shaft and squeezed. As my cock hardened even more, she returned to kissing me, her mouth open, wet and eager, her tongue demonstrating a practiced skill that struck a chord of longing.
My wife hated being Frenched. She had an aversion to my tongue in her mouth and barely tolerated the act. There was something in her past that I never discovered, and it wasn’t due to her glib excuses, one being her fear of swapping germs. As a teen, I’d loved necking, and Belinda’s so-called ‘butterfly’ kisses hadn’t been the same. Now, our daughter was full-on kissing me with wet, desperate passion, her tongue exploring my mouth with skillful abandon. Beyond restraint, I was fully participating, making up for those many years with their lack of serious, passionate necking.
Belinda’s ‘butterfly’ kisses and closed lips just hadn’t been enough, but were about all Belinda ever granted. Utterly lost in a rampaging arousal, I surrendered, responding to Debbie’s every move and startling expertise.
I was astonished, since She hadn’t been allowed out on dates until this past year. A bit worrying, she hadn’t expressed much of an interest in boys. Her busy tongue kept teasing, thrusting in and out in rhythm with her rocking hips. Her mother’s musk perfume filled my nostrils, transporting me into a strange realm of divided fantasy. I was finally receiving hot, deep kisses, and my tool was getting pleasured by my little girl’s pussy grinding slick juices over my cock!
For a moment, I broke the tempo, sucking her tongue deep. Debbie moaned into my mouth, whimpering when it hurt. I released her and she retaliated, doing the same to me, pulling my tongue deep with powerful suction.
As passion flared, lusty thoughts flashed into my head, then I twisted our mouths apart.
“God Debbie, where did you learn to kiss like this? What have you been doing behind my back? Are you still a virgin?”
She laughed, then slipped into childish giggles. “Yes daddy, I am still a virgin, more or less,” she answered seriously, ducking to nip and suck the hollow of my throat, her lean hips arching into my belly. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I have to be virginal. Before I came into your bedroom, I was just hoping to cuddle and talk. Then, when I saw you jerking off, I knew I wanted you, even if just to give you head.” Her warm fingers tugged the rigid curve of my shaft. “I still want to take your lovely cock in my mouth and make you cum, but, if you need my pussy, I’m willing. I’ve dreamed about you making love to me for the past four years.”
‘Four years?’ For an instant, her words hit me like a splash of ice water. ‘If I need that too? Did I? Could I? Take my only child’s virginity?’
“Give me head? Still a virgin and you know all this?”
“Well, duh,” she said on a laugh, still panting. “There was my involvement with Janis back when I was twelve and we had sleep-overs. Then there’s internet porn, and mobile phone porn.”
“So, you were experimenting? With another girl?” I said, once again sounding parental while trying to remember details of our talks. “You and Janis necked. I remember now. Is that how you learned to kiss?”
Debbie gave a disdainful sniff. ““it certainly wasn’t with guys. I’ve been saving myself for you daddy.”
My cock twitched, then her hand was there, between us, gripping my shaft. My cock began throbbing, seeming to get even harder.
‘Saving herself for me?’ I thought wildly, too aware of her tight grip jerking me, her small, sexy mouth devouring mine. ‘Wanting to give me head?’
I was all but lost, and getting bloody near to a major eruption.
“If you put your beautiful lips on me I’ll probably come in seconds.”
“I want that too, so I won’t mind if you cum quick,” she answered, giggling, kissing me quick. “You’re normal, not like those porn stars who get sucked forever and hardly ever cum.”
“Porn!” I said, frowning. “Your computer and phone have parental blocks!”
She giggled mischievously. “They still do, but Janis had access to her dad’s computer and her cell wasn’t blocked. We watched a lot of stuff in bed together ... and we sort of practiced, like the song, ‘Girls just gotta have fun.”
“Well, I think you’re a natural when it comes to necking,” I told her, running my hands up from her waist, finally daring to cup and fondle her small breasts through the silky material of her nightie. If you are serious, my cock needs your mouth, and, if it’s okay, I’ll caress your breasts and pussy at the same time?”
“Very okay,” she answered, a smile and sultry note in her voice, her chest pressing into my hands. “I very much want your hands squeezing my girls.”
Small, with slender fingers, her hand tugged at my cock.
“You should know, that this is my first adult cock,” she said teasingly.
“First adult?”
She giggled. “I babysat some little boys. Sometimes I had to bathe and change diapers. Even little boys get boners. Feeling an adult cock is so much better.”
“This is so much better than trying to do it myself,” I said with a groan.
Yours is So soft, and hard as wood underneath,” she murmured appreciatively. “The top is sort of purplish and the rest is reddish, but you don’t have a foreskin.”
“I was circumcise.”
“There was one boy about eight. He had a foreskin. His mother showed me how to slide it back and wash the top to keep him from getting another infection there.” She giggled. “When I did that, He would get a cute little boner. Made it difficult to aim when I tried getting him to pee into the toilet.”
“Wish I still had one,” I said, imagining what it would feel like with her hand fisting me. “Some people think that sex is better with a cock that has a foreskin.”
“I like your cock the way it is,” she replied, lightly squeezing the base of my shaft.
With that, she released me, unwrapping her legs from around mine. With a twist, moving as though doing a gymnast routine, she performed a dismount. After taking a position on my left side, she tossed covers to the floor. Then, she bent over and her long, loose hair spilled over my thighs and belly. I shivered, loving that sensation, anticipating even more. Her cheek brushed the head of my cock, then she sniffed cautiously before licking the tip.
“You smell clean. Sometimes when I slid back his foreskin, that little boy smelled fishy.”
“You got close enough to notice?”
She let out a nervous titter. “Twice after he peed and I washed him there, I sucked on it, just to see what it would feel like in my mouth. He didn’t seem to mind.”
After imparting that tidbit, she brushed her lips and tongue around my glans. At first tentative, she kissed the tip, licked and poked her tongue into my slit. Head lifting, she said, “I think I just tasted your precum. Not much taste, and only a little salty,” she reported.
Another moment and her mouth took in the entire crest, then her lips were gliding down my shaft, fingers squeezing tight about the base.
I groaned and prevented my hips from thrusting. Over five years had flown by since her mother’s death and there hadn’t been another woman in my life since. Debbie’s mouth and sucking lips brought on a rush of sensation, then a very definite tightening of my scrotum.
Debbie released me and reared back. All the sensations gone, my orgasm stalled.
“You squirted!” Debbie stated. “Did you just cum in my mouth?”
Hardly,” I said with a laugh. “I’m almost there. If you don’t want a load in your mouth, just let it squirt onto my belly.”
“I want to do it all,” she said quietly. “If it tastes bad, I can grab some tissues and spit it out.”
“It doesn’t taste any different than my precum,” I replied.
She gave a sniff and chuckled. “You know that how?”
When her fingers trailed over that area, fondling my balls, everything retracted. My groin pulsed, then rippled, once again at the threshold of orgasm.
“When I was a teen, I’d scooped up the globs and swallowed them,” I admitted. “After I started jacking off, I didn’t want sticky tissues left as evidence. Had this notion that eating it would give back the hormones, making my cock get real big. Unfortunately, that didn’t work...”
She giggled. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t. I like it this size. Not huge and intimidating like so many of those actors in porn vids.”
Without hesitation, she dove back, engulfing my cock, lips surrounding the shaft, fingers of her right hand gripping the base. Even without sight, I could feel and visualize every detail.
Over and over, my cock jerked, swelling quickly, getting back to full arousal. She was giggling around my shaft and sucking greedily, lips gliding lower and lower. I wasn’t large or long, just average, no more than six inches erect, so her mouth was able to take most of me. I groaned loudly when her left hand began stroking up between my thighs, coming to rest on a tightening scrotum. My balls retracted when she cupped and fondled them. Debbie’s mouth slid back up my length, sucking hard about the crown. After probing my slit with the tip of her tongue, she pulled away, gasping, a smile obvious in her voice.
“There’s a lot of precome. Not really sweet or salty. So much for lavish details in romance novels.”
I was speechless, lost in sensations. She dove again, eager mouth sucking my crown, tongue licking around the rim. Her lips slid down to her fist, then back up while she pumped me. It only took a few more strokes from her mouth and lips and the familiar, irrevocable surges were claiming my entire being.
I reached down, tugging at Debbie’s hair. “I’m coming! Pull away!”
Debbie shook her head, mouth breaking rhythm for a moment. She wouldn’t be moved, her mouth sucking even harder. Though fully erect, I felt my cock swell, then suddenly, it was pulsing. My hips began thrusting. Distantly, I heard Debbie gag. She withdrew a little but didn’t stop, rather moved her mouth up and down even faster.
Sensations tipped me over the edge. Lights began sparkling inside my head. Pleasure rippled through my loins. My cock surged, spilling over and over, spurting cum into my daughter’s eager mouth. Debbie swallowed it all, then licked and licked, suckling and drawing out every last drop.
Afterwards, Debbie snuggled against me, my arm around her shoulder, small breasts pressing against a bare arm through her silk nightie. Fingers of her left hand absently teased the sparse tufts of hair around one nipple. I reached across, smoothing down her silky nightie, then started caressing one of her small, incredibly firm breasts. Hers were almost conical, reminding me of small mountain peaks. Before this night, and after the onset of puberty, I’d tried to respect her personal space, remembering my own adolescent shyness. More than a few times over the past two years, I’d felt her brush my arm or hand with a breast, but had been fully dressed and the contact seemed accidental. Still, I could feel the outline of bras, from her first training bra to the more sexy ones she now favored. I couldn’t help ‘seeing’ with tactile awareness. Even contact with the back of my hand would reveal the outline of a bra and the swell of a small tit within. I remembered the firm pressure of budding breasts when she gave me hugs. This was the first time I dared cup and explore a nearly naked breast. I could have reached up beneath her short nightie, but the silk was adding an erotic quality to the contact.
Debbie’s shape was fascinating, stirring another arousal. Our daughter didn’t have her mother’s soft, round, C-cup breasts. Hers were unique, little more than an A-cup, resilient and muscular, yet soft and responsive. Not long after my thumb began stroking her tiny nipple, it stiffened. I pinched it through the silk, rolling it with thumb and forefinger, eliciting a moan. When I began tugging, it lengthened and became even more engorged.
“Oh, Daddy,” she purred.
“You wanted to cuddle and talk?” I prompted.
“Yes, I love cuddling with you,” she replied, taking a few deep breaths before plunging in. “I’ve been wanting to do these kind of things with you forever. Even before I started my periods. I finally got up enough nerve to broach the subject. When I saw the earbuds, and you beating your dick, I wanted to join in and help give you pleasure,” She admitted, pausing, seeming thoughtful for a few seconds.
“Go on,” I urged.
“Well, I told you about Janice and I making out when we were twelve, But left off mentioning the internet porn. We would joke about the bad acting and guys with big cocks that never seemed to come off, and all the sloppy noises women and supposedly horny stepdaughters made when sucking a boner. There were clips with lesbians too, so we tried different things with each other, necking a lot and giving each other orgasms. Not my first though. I started masturbating when I was eight, and had my first climax when I was nine. Didn’t for a while when mom got sick, then started again when I was ten.” She hesitated, nuzzling a warm cheek against my chest. “Janice and I would pet each other, and several times did the sixty-nine, licking each other until we came. It was fun, and exciting, but I kept thinking it wasn’t my scene, and that I wanted to do all of those things with my very special Daddy. I don’t care if it’s incestuous. I’ve read up on that, and I think I’ve got all the pitfalls straight in my head. You never molested me. You aren’t seducing me, or raping me, so that leaves the emotional problems. You need to be loved, and I think I can give that to you. I think you’re afraid to try with other women because mom was so wonderful.” She giggled. “I bet she was good in bed?”
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