My daughter Kayla and I share the same birthday. She was turning eighteen and I was turning thirty-eight. Originally we planned on spending that special day together like we always had in the past, but she backed out the day before because her friends begged her into celebrating with them.

Of course I didn't argue with her. Kayla was kind of a loner like her old man, and if she had the chance to go hang out with her friends I wasn't going to stand in her way. As a father I wanted her to have fun.

I decided not to spend the night alone so I went out myself. I didn't want to drive so I took a cab to a little bar called "Karl's." It was one of the local watering stations. I sat at the bar instead of at a table so I would never have to wait for a refill and I focused on my drink. It was cold and had a nice head to it just the way I like a beer to be.

The bar was only a quarter of the way full which is also the way that I liked that. That way there is not so much noise that if you did try to have a conversation you still could, but enough noise that you also knew that you weren't the only person in the world and having people around was just what I needed--even if I didn't necessarily plan on sitting with them.

Everyone else in the bar seemed to be In their own little groups. Some were hanging out at the pool table and some were sitting in the booths that lined the outer wall. Chatter filled the bar and the smell of onions and cooking burgers hung lazily in the air mingling with the echoes of conversation. The only thing that was missing was the smell of cigarette smoke that used to be the common scent that completed the effect of bar the bar world.

I wasn't there five minutes when a cute blonde walked up and sat next to me. I'm not used to getting attention from beautiful women so I just assumed that her decision to sit next to me was out of convenience and had nothing to do with me. She could have sat in other seats because the bar wasn't packed. She didn't though. She sat on the stool next to me and waited for the bar tender to come over.

"Okay sure. I promise ... Now I'll talk to you later okay!" she said. "Love ya! Bye!" she said. She held up her cell and ended whatever call she was on, but I noticed her Bluetooth in her ear and knew that was where she was hearing whatever conversation she was having.

I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't turned away from me though. I sat there and quietly stared at my beer and watched her out of the corner of my eye wondering why this gorgeous woman with the short skirt and skimpy blouse had her legs turned so they were less than an inch away from mine. It's not that I'm a bad looking guy or anything, but this woman was a knockout and way out of my league.

"Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" she asked.

I glanced over at her and gave her a questioning look. I'm not one to get my hopes up for no reason, but I had to admit that as my eyes connected with her thoughts of taking her home with me were beginning to fill my head like the smoke that I wished was still there in the bar.

A dumbfounded chuckle left my lips and I immediately felt like an ass.

"What's so funny?" she questioned with a serious look. "Am I not pretty enough for you?"

I hadn't intended on offending her and I immediately started searching for the words to recover my idiocy. "God no. Exactly the opposite. I think you're a little out of my league," I said honestly.

I meant every word and it was even more apparent as I gazed at her more openly. If she was even old enough to be in this bar and drinking it was just barely. On top of that her skin was perfect and as I soaked in the nuances of her face I realized that this girl could easily win Miss America. She had a slim and yet sturdy build with curves in all of the right places. Her blouse was unbuttoned uncomfortably far making it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, and my eyes couldn't help but to drift downward as I wondered what it was that was keeping her from popping out.

To make matters worse for me the cute little blonde was acutely aware of the positioning of my eyes and instead of acting to cover herself she did just the opposite. She turned even more toward me with a smile on her face and intentionally gave me a better view. Her nipples hardened before my very eyes and she winked at me when I was finally able to draw my gaze back to her face.

"Actually you are exactly what I'm looking for. I want an older guy and I think you're cute!"

I looked the blonde directly in the eye to see if she was serious. She sounded genuine, but I was still reluctant to believe that such a gorgeous young girl could be hitting on me so blatantly. If she was joking I couldn't see it in her face, but just to make sure I glanced around the room to see if any of her friends were sitting off on the sidelines and getting a kick out of the scene as it played out. Nobody else in the bar seemed to be paying us much attention.

"You look confused," she said with a note of genuine concern in her voice.

"I am a little yeah," I said taking another swig from my beer and once again my eyes drifted far below her chin line. "You're not much older than my daughter."

She reached over and took my hand from the bar. She placed it high on her thigh and gave me a piercing look. "And you are not much younger than my dad, which is kind of the point!"

Her skin felt so soft to my hand and I have to admit that I was mesmerized by the feel of it. It felt so hot to my hand as if her leg was on fire and the idea of just knowing that my hand was only inches away from her panties was making my pants stir in my lap.

"The point?"

She nodded yes with a wicked smile on her face. "What's your daughter's name?" she inquired.

"Shelby," I spit out without even thinking about it.

"Shelby," she repeated as if she were trying it on. "I'll make a deal with you. I am yours tonight. You can do whatever you want whenever you want as long as I can call you daddy and as long as you picture in your mind that I am your daughter Shelby."

Her proposition was blunt and to the point and I couldn't believe that she was making it to a complete stranger. At the same time though I liked having my hand on her leg, and I didn't want to take it away. Just the idea of knowing that the beautiful young woman was giving her attention to me and not someone else was a little too much for me to refuse, and I didn't want to give it up.

"I mean it," she repeated. "You have to pretend that I'm actually your daughter ... Shelby!" she added emphasis on my daughter's name.

I thought about resisting the idea but what could it really hurt. I am a guy after all and I doubted I would have the opportunity again to be this close to a woman half my age and even though her request seemed completely outrageous to me I wasn't going to judge her. If that's what she was into then why not. A part of me actually thought it sounded kind of fun.

I thought the gig was about to be up because a guy about her age came up and stood in between us. I started to pull my hand away from her thigh, but she held on to it and wouldn't let me.

"Hey there beautiful. Why don't you give up on the geriatrics and come join us over there in the corner?"

'what a jerk, ' I thought. 'Geriatrics? I am not that old!'

She looked at him and laughed and I just knew I was about to become the butt of a very funny joke. At least it would have been funny to them anyway. "Geriatrics! That's too funny huh daddy!" she said looking at me.

"This is your dad?" the stranger said staring at the position of my hand on her leg. She nodded yes enthusiastically and slid my hand higher on her thigh, which slid her skirt a little higher. I could tell that she was enjoying the queer look he gave at the sight so I gave her thigh a little squeeze.

"Isn't that incest?" he said incredulous to what was happening.

"Not yet!" she said with a giggle. "But it's will be by the end of the night."

"Oh!" he said turning from us and scuttling back to his corner like a dog that had just been whipped by its master.

"Did you see the look on that dweebs face? I think he about shit his pants. Are you going to buy me a beer or what?"

I waved the bartender over with my other hand not wanting to offend her any more than I already had and not wanting to remove my hand from her thigh. I slid that one up a little further on her thigh until my pinky was resting against her panties.

The bartender came over and I ordered her a cold one. "Shelby" got up and scooted her stool closer to mine so that we could be a little more intimate. When she sat back down she draped her leg over the top of mine and my hand drifted back down to her leg.

"So you actually want to pretend that I'm your dad?" I asked. It was the obvious question and I couldn't wait any longer to ask it.

"I want to do this with my real dad, but he's too much of a square to ever defile his precious little daughter," she said seriously. Then her tone changed and she got that devilish attitude again. "He just can't seem to get it through his head that I'm not half as innocent as he makes me out to be."

"So let me get this straight. If I was your real father you would still want my pinky rubbing up against your panties like this?" I asked performing the act as I said it, and I could feel her wetness down there.

Her eyes bulged in her sockets a little bit and she arched her back. Then she looked at me and nodded her consent. "God yes! I would love that!"

I couldn't believe my ears. Of course I knew that incest was out there, but I always assumed that it was a selfish father that was too lazy to go out there and find someone his own age. That he would instead just selfishly decide his daughter had to do whatever he said and would just take advantage of that and make her succumb to whatever he wanted. This girl was telling me that it was possible that a girl might actually want her father in that way. It was a concept that I'd never considered before.

"Quit looking at me like I'm crazy," she added. "I'm not the only girl in the world that wants to screw her dad you know."

"I'm not accusing you. But you have to admit it is a little out there."

"Oh come on. You're telling me you've never had a single impure thought about your daughter? Not one?"

My first instinct was to deny it outright—to just play innocent and pure—and to just say that I was her dad and that I could never think of my Shelby that way. It wasn't exactly true though. I had accidentally walked in on Shelby in the bathroom just about six months before while she was getting dressed and caught a glimpse of her before I made my hasty retreat. It took me a week to get the image of her breasts and the beads of shower water glistening in the overhead light out of my head. I had even given in to jacking off while I replayed the thought through my perverted head. I was a single guy and it had been a while since I'd seen a woman without any clothes on.

I didn't think it was fair for this girl to be as honest with me as she was being so I didn't deny it.

"I guess I can't deny it. I've had a thought or two about Shelby," I admitted.

Her eyes lit up and she actually squealed with delight as if I had just given her a juicy piece of gossip that she had to know more about. She leaned in close to me. "Tell me all about the bad thoughts you had about your little girl."

I could feel my face turning a shade of pink at the prospect of confessing my sin to her. I didn't think my admitting to it would mean a full out confession and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

"Come on ... Tell me," she prompted. "I have gotten myself off a thousand times pretending that my fingers belonged to my dad. It would be so hot for me to hear about a dad doing the same thing about his daughter. I promise you won't regret it," she teased and her hand went high up on my thigh drifting up even higher until her fingers were rubbing against my boner.

We were starting to get a little attention from the other patrons in the bar and my comfort level went down. People were still doing their own thing, but they kept giving accusatory glances our way as the old guy at the bar seemed to be groping a girl half his age. I guessed I couldn't blame them. If I had been one of them I probably would have been out and out staring. I also probably would have been sitting there judging me too. Even the bartender seemed to be on the verge of stepping in and coming to the barely adult girl's rescue.

"I walked in on Shelby about six months ago," I began. "She was in the bathroom getting dressed and I had come home from work and had to use the bathroom. I didn't know she was even in there."

The blonde smiled at me and encouraged me to continue. "Go on. What did you see?"

That was a good question. It had been a while since I thought about the incident and the image had already began to fade into the clouds of my mind, but talking about it brought it right back to the forefront of my head. I saw Shelby bending over the bathroom sink, brushing her teeth as I opened the door. She hadn't been wearing anything but a pair of skimpy panties and beads of water. She had her towel wrapped around her head to dry her hair and as I took a step into the bathroom she had stood up in her alarm.

It had taken Shelby a second to realize what was happening and at first she hadn't thought to cover herself, but as soon as she noticed that my eyes had drifted to her firm but petite breasts she covered them and I bolted from the bathroom uttering my apologies in complete and utter terror and embarrassment.

I made this confession to "Shelby" with my head hung low. The girl didn't seem to understand that I wasn't proud of what happened though. "Did you like the way she looked? Be honest with me."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah. Of course I did. My daughter is growing up to be a beautiful young woman."

Her attention seemed to be drawn away for a second as if her mind went somewhere else, but it only lasted for a second as if her thoughts went to another planet, but she quickly came back to the topic.

"Did you ever??? You know jack off while you thought about it?"

There was no doubt that my face probably looked like a turnip at that point. There it was laid out there on the table for the world to see. I nodded.

"Come on," she said with that naughty attitude back in her voice again. "I want to hear you tell me about it."

"I did okay. I went into my own bathroom and did it."

"Shelby" looked up at me and then kissed me on the cheek. I'm pretty sure that she could tell how uncomfortable this admission was to me and I think she wanted to console my discomfort. "That really is hot you know."

"Well excuse me if I disagree. I feel like an ass."

She seemed a little offended by my statement, but it was the truth. I had been beating myself up for it. And the worst part was that even though I felt horrible after I made myself cum with thoughts of my daughter I still did it again later that night making myself feel worse and then again the next night. It seemed that even though I had guilty feelings about the weak moments I still went back to it a few more times before I was able to get control of myself again.

She sat there in her stool in thought again for a moment. It seemed like she was contemplating my reaction. "What if your daughter liked the idea? Would you still feel like an ass?"

"But she isn't you. I know it's your fantasy, but doesn't mean that it's hers."

"It could be though. I think a lot of girls have crushes on their dad's. I also think that if they had any inkling that their dad's had fantasies about them that they'd jump at the chance to live them out."

"Oh come on. You can't know that!"

"Shelby" got another one of those looks in her eye. "Oh yes I can. You're not the first person I've confessed my fantasies to. I've admitted it to some of my girlfriends and they've pretty much all told me that they've thought about it too. A few of them even told me that they'd go through with it if their dad's wanted to."

I sat there with a dumb look on my face not knowing quite what to say.

"Do you want to? Again ... be honest with me."

I knew what she was getting at. She wanted me to admit whether or not I wanted to fuck my daughter. I still had that urge to deny it. I wanted more than anything to just be able to find a rug somewhere and hide underneath it. Hide from her and hide from the other patrons at the bar and hide from myself and the truth. What good would that do though, and what harm would it do to say it out loud.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Yes what?" she asked giddily.

"I want to have sex with my daughter."

She gave my boner a little squeeze and then got up from her stool. "Dance with me."

"Huh?"

"What? Your dick is as hard as a rock and I want to feel it pressed up against me," she grabbed my hand. She wasn't taking no for an answer. She pulled me up off of my stool and we headed over to the juke box. I heard her say something as we walked over there, but it was a mumble and I couldn't quite make out what it was. It sounded like "I won't," but I'm not sure about that.

I also couldn't help but notice that nearly every eye in the place was on us as we made our way to the old fashioned music box. A part of me was proud of the fact that I could be seen with such a beautiful young woman that was dressed like an edgy actress or music star crossing the red carpet. I was also feeling a little guilty as if I was taking advantage of her youth so publicly. Having everybody looking at me made me feel self-conscious and nervous.

I put a couple of dollars in and she picked out a couple of slow songs and brought me to the only open spot in the floor that we could dance.

She came in close to me and I put my hands around her on her back and we started to sway to the music. Her petite frame felt amazing pressed up against me. A part of me either wished she was taller, I was shorter, or that she had something to stand on. My package was indeed pressed up against her, but it was her stomach that I felt.

"Remember. You are supposed to be pretending that I'm your daughter and that you are allowed to do whatever you want to her. Is that really where you would want your hands?"

Her words were having an effect on me. I was actually starting to visualize things the way that she wanted me to. I was dancing with her, but at the same time I wasn't. The kinky side of me owned up to the possibility of having my stiffness pressed into my daughter and as my hands slid down her waist I felt a twinge of excitement as I imagined cupping my daughter's buttocks rather than hers.