Fifty Percent plus Seven

by Richard the Third

Copyright© 2012 by Richard the Third

Incest Sex Story: The story's title plus my daughter, explains it all!

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Incest   Father   Daughter   First   .

Chapter 1

(This all happened in one night)

50% + 7

Yeah! That’s some dumb-ass rule to help you figure out how young a girl you can date without looking sketchy. I’m 42, so that’s 21+7 equaling 28? My problem is my own daughter.

She’s only 18, and I’m deeply in love with her. Maybe it’s just lust ... She’s got a boyfriend one year older than her, but I have plans for him.

Let me describe my daughter to you... 5ft5, a hundred and fourteen pounds, with long brown hair and blue eyes. Actually, in the last year or so, she’s been dying it blonde ... making her even prettier!

She’s got great legs, toned thighs, and arms, a face that would melt the hardest and meanest man on the planet. Add to that a pair of boobies that are marvelous in shape, shake, and jiggle.

I don’t know where she got them? Not her mother or grandmother! A way to describe her face would be to say that she looks just like Sandy Duncan if that’s not too old of a reference for you. Her name is Chrissy short for Christina!

I’m 42 ... I swim a lot in our backyard pool, and so I’ve managed to keep myself in very good shape. Chrissy has an older brother named Anthony. He went with my wife, Clarissa, after the divorce. They’ve moved over 3,000 miles away and have nothing to do with the story I’m about to tell you. Just trying to explain my circumstances!

To continue my description, I’m only 5ft9, I weigh 155 pounds, and I’ve got a nine-inch dick!

We are in excellent shape financial wise. I own the house ... Chrissy and I share free and clear. Chrissy is taking a year off between high school and starting college. We both know how to cook, me a few more meals than her. We’re not chefs, but we can make a meal using a cookbook.

The day my love started changing from strictly paternal, started with me making dinner for the two of us. It was one of my better dinners, ‘Roast a la Dan’; that’s my name!

I rang the bell that we had in the kitchen that signaled that dinner was about ready. “I’ll be right there,” she said. Moments later she walked in wearing a beautiful dress. It was a light shade of blue, crisscrossing over her bosom leaving some skin showing.

“Wow, Chrissy that’s quite the dress!” I said glancing at her, giving her a complete look-down and back up again.

“Thanks, Daddy I knew you were fixing dinner, so I thought I could dress up for you.”

“What did I do to deserve you, Chrissy—do you have a date later or something?”

“Only with my favorite Daddy,” she said with the cutest smile on her face.

“I sure am glad that I’m your dad and not just a young man who has taken you out for dinner somewhere?”

I picked that time to check the oven, as her arms encircled my waist from behind. “I love you too, Daddy!”

“Careful honey, it’s hot,” I said out of parental love.

“Yeah, so is the food,” she said with a grin a mile wide.

“Did you just call your own father, Hot?” I said grinning.

She took the other food to the dinner table shaking that cute little butt of hers in the process. Could it be that she’s as hot for me as I am for her?

Putting on my oven mitts, I brought the casserole to the dinner table. She slapped me on my butt giggling in the process. Even though she’s 18, I’ve been letting her drink wine in limited amounts, and tonight would be one of those times. All she wanted.

We were now sitting at the table, and I had poured each of us a glass of wine. I’m no expert on wine, but I know what I liked, and she seemed to like it as well.

I served each of us some casserole and put a little salad on each of our plates. While her body was quite fantastic, her face reminded me of her mother’s back when I first met her.

“Chrissy, how about after dinner we go for a late-night swim?”

“That sounds like fun daddy, can we skinny-dip?”

“Well ... I don’t know about that dear, have you had any experience around naked boys,” I asked?

“No, but I sure would like some!” she said licking her lips.

“Holy shit! Are you telling me that you’ve never done anything with any boy before?”

“Sure, I’ve kissed them and they’ve kissed me, but after that, all any of them ever wants to do is to put their hands on my tits.”

“Well Chrissy, you do have a very ... curvaceous body,” I said in reaction to that. It wasn’t the only reaction my body was having during this conversation.

We ate for a while ... stopping to have a sip of the wine I served. She watched me and was taking the same size sips I was.

The next time we stopped to drink our wine, Chrissy asked again, “So, can we go skinny-dipping?”

I carefully responded, “Well, all right ... however, you have to promise to keep your hands to yourself, young lady!”

She smiled, and then stretched it into a big grin, finally giggling ... as she covered my available hand with hers, and said, “Oh Daddy, I can’t do that!”

“What happened to that boyfriend of yours ... his name was Peter, wasn’t it?”

“I broke up with him just last week, Daddy. He was one of those boys who didn’t understand what ‘NO’ meant!”

“Do you understand, a young lady such as yourself might say or do something that makes a man uncomfortable enough that he may have to say, ‘No’?”

Things got quiet again as we ate in silence for a bit and, this time, she picked up her wine glass first. I picked up mine as well, this time. We clinked them together as I took a sip and she drained hers.

Usually, after dinner at home, whoever cooks, also clears the table. She made that rule since I would often get up from the table to answer the phone and never come back.

She had silently cleared the table, but after pointing out the inconsistency, I promised I would be ‘a good boy’ and try harder.

“Are you done, sweetheart?” I asked.

“I think so, I didn’t want to eat too much before I got in the water. It was a very good casserole,” she said pouring herself a bit more wine.

“Glad you liked it, Chrissy—If I ever make something that doesn’t taste right you will tell me, won’t you?” I said coming back to take the casserole and cover it and put in the fridge. “Pour me a little more wine too, please?”

As she did, she said, “Daddy, you’ve never fixed anything that I didn’t love. Can I take these glasses and the wine to the pool?”

“Sure thing, go ahead and change and I’ll meet you there in less than five minutes. I need to check my business line to see if I have any messages ... I haven’t all day.”

I finished up in the kitchen and went into my office and there were none. I glanced and saw Chrissy in the pool and went upstairs really quickly, changing into a pair of trunks.

When I walked out to the pool I saw her dress hanging over one of the chairs, “Chrissy, are you naked?” I asked.

“No, Daddy—I kept my panties on. This water feels so good, don’t be a ‘Fuddy-Daddy!’” she said, using the word she’d made up back when, well, I don’t remember the first time she used it, but my reaction told her to use it sparingly, which she has.

“Chrissy, I don’t think that’s a good idea ... how about I get in then, I’ll take off my trunks, all right?”

“OK, come on in,” she said with a lot of enthusiasm.

We have an above ground spa right next to the pool. We often go in there and just enjoy the bubbles sometimes. The pool is a lap pool. Both kids enjoyed it growing up.

I can only guess if her mother got a pool wherever they live. Due to both of us having great jobs, neither of us sent the other one any money—Talk about your no-fault divorce?

I dove into the pool coming up next to her, purposefully touching her back as I surfaced. I treaded water for a moment then, slipped off my trunks and threw them by the spa.

She turned around and smiled at me, as we were both treading water.

“With those ‘bazooms’ of yours, my dear—you will always float to the top. You couldn’t possibly drown,” I said.

“Thank you, I’m glad that you like them Daddy,” my blonde seductress said. “Why did you and Mom not have any more kids after Tony and me?”

“Well, Chrissy, we set a goal of two children, one of each—so we could focus on the two of you and be nearby for the two of you as you grew up. Nine years ago, things stopped working between the two of us. We were both climbing through the ranks at our respective businesses and neither of us wanted to give up what we had. I’d expected to get Tony as part of any arrangement, but your mother insisted that you have a positive male role model.”

“And Mom was offered a new position in Connecticut too, wasn’t she?” she asked.

“That’s right! It meant a promotion for her and I didn’t want to get in the way of her future. That’s why we have the deal we have: Phone calls on birthdays, Easter, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and Christmas!”

We were looking at each as we had this conversation and she grabbed my face and gave me a kiss on the lips.

“What was that for. my beautiful baby girl?” I sputtered.

“For being so nice to me all the time and not staring at my boobs, like all the other boys do,” she said.

“Chrissy,” I admitted, “I do sometimes look at your boobs. Hopefully, you don’t see me when I do it. I try to be covert about it.”

“That’s all right Daddy, you’re the most handsome man I know and the only one, who has never looked at me like I was a bowl of milk and you were a pussycat,” she said, still floating right in front of me.

“My legs are sore, sweetie, can we move this to the spa?” I asked.

Chapter 2

“Don’t look!” she said getting out of the pool and carefully climbing into the spa.

Oh ... I looked! Long and hard, until I was long and hard. Damn, she has such a nice ass on her.

“OK, Daddy—come on over, I won’t look?”

Going against instinct, I got up and took a leisurely set of steps, slowly walking over to the spa. She unwrapped her eyes just as I was laggardly dropping into the spa.

I saw her pupils dilate, as I stopped to react to the warmth of the water.

“Daddy! Doesn’t that hurt?”

I innocently responded, “What baby?”

“Your ... your ... um, penis? It looks like the skin can’t stretch anymore—doesn’t that hurt?”

“It’s hard to explain, Chrissy. It depends on what’s caused it to get that way. If I was in my room thinking about something sexual, it happens all by itself, until I ... take care of it, you know—masturbate?”

“However, if I were to look at a really beautiful woman, like yourself ... it feels very good! Honey, I need to admit something to you, is it OK if I do it now?”

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