My Daughters First Facial

Micky and Nancy, two senior-high schoolgirls, are best friends forever. During their last few weeks of school, and the summer break before they go off to university, the innocent and naïve eighteen-year-olds, become less innocent and more knowing of life's sexual possibilities. Nancy's father, Alec Rogers, tells of his part in the girls' development and recalls his first sexual experiences when he was their age.

2. My Daughter's First Facial

My body clock keeps very good time. I was awake, as usual on a work day, at six thirty. And I had the most stonking hard-on. Not the lazy stiffy signalling your bladder needs emptying. This was the firm, metallic hardness of lust: the needle of my sexual compass fixed on true filth. I threw back the duvet. I enjoy watching myself masturbate. Every stroke, down and up the length. Quite gentle strokes, because her virgin mouth had been gentle. Quite long strokes, touching the skin of my ballsack, because I had deep throated her. I was seeing again Micky's young face, fucked, full of my cock, and her astonishment as her mouth was filled with my spunk load. Seeing again her expression on swallowing that load, as instructed by me: an expression of childlike naughtiness melded with the raunch of a newly sexualised teenager.

All the other dirtily pleasurable places to go with Micky. I'd only had a couple of pokes of that enticing, smooth, hairless cunt. Next time I'd be longer and further in there, telling her I was about to fill her up with warm, sticky sperm like the mouthful she'd already so willingly tasted.

And her cute, tight anus. She'd offered it to me bent across that stool the previous day. Another time I'll tell her to stay in place: walk over and crouch slightly to lick round the rippled perimeter before pushing the tip of my tongue in her yielding hole. Leaving my saliva as lubricant I rise behind her and thrust my pinkie full length, to the knuckle, up her butt-hole. I lean over to whisper in her ear, telling her a butt-fuck is coming her way. After I've tested her for size with each of my other fingers, I tell her to lean further over so her bum is slightly lifted over the edge of the stool. I slap my cock between her butt cheeks and pull the tip down till it's tickling her arse; a deliberate pressure beyond the sphincter just relaxed by the fingering, and push fully in, feeling the grateful tightening of her arse. Cock now pushing, pulling, telling Micky, she's an arse-slut ready for her first squirt of butt-fuck cum. The final push, the explosion of spunk into that so tight hole, the withdrawal to witness the momentary gape and closure of her jizz dripping arse hole.

That last, vividly imagined climax delivered a very real, if small, satisfying emission of jizz and my accompanying exhalation.

Enough dreams of future liaisons with Micky. I was making for my shower and Nancy was suddenly in the bedroom doorway. She looked so pure, so much younger looking than her eighteen years, in her pink Sleepyhead top and shorts. Her beautifully forming breasts rose and fell quickly, the small buttons of her nipples nudging the thin cotton. She mimed a series of muted gasps. My semi-erect cock and its shiny knob end, and the still moist trickle of spunk just below my belly button signalled my guilt. And in that moment, my latent sexual desire, my illicit desire of Nancy, squeezed another small glob of sperm from my dickhole.

"Daddy! What have you been doing? Why is your willy so big? What's that stuff on your tummy?"

"Nancy, you shouldn't be in here. Now, get away. Go off and get ready for school," I reprimanded.

Nancy retreated, confused and surprised and by my unusual brusqueness and volume.

I had my shower and got dressed.

Nancy was at the table in the kitchen having breakfast.

"Good morning, Nancy."

"Morning, Daddy," she replied anxiously. "I'm sorry I didn't knock. I'm sorry."

I didn't acknowledge the undeserved apology. She thought she was in the wrong. I would play on that unwarranted advantage.

She continued crunching through her cereal, taking occasional sips from her tumbler of orange juice. As I assembled my breakfast she was glancing at me repeatedly. Her embarrassed glances continued while I ate opposite her. Was she as ignorant of masturbation as Micky had seemed to be? Had I sullied Nancy's virgin innocence?

"I'm done now, Daddy. I'll make sure everything's in my bag and see you at the car."

She looked the perfect schoolgirl: her blonde hair in neat bunches that brushed the shoulders of her crisp, white blouse; her tartan plaid cross-tie tucked tidily beneath the blouse's collar; pleated skirt, knee-high white socks.

"Stop there, Madam!"

She stopped next to my chair. I swung round, remaining seated, and reached slightly beyond her, placing my hands on the backs of her legs. Holding her thighs, underneath and above the hem of her skirt, I fanned out my fingers skimming the trim of her white, schoolgirl panties. Nancy looked at me, uncertain, unknowing. I looked back into her pretty blue eyes and knew for certain.

"Thank you for saying sorry Nancy. You shouldn't have come into my room. You could have embarrassed your Daddy. I don't like telling you off. We'll sort it all out this evening. OK?"

"Yes. I am sorry Daddy. I'll make it up to you. I'll do whatever you say."

Thinking of all those whatevers my cock twitched.

All I said out loud was, "I'll be with you in a few minutes."

The drive to school was quiet. I tried to normalise things, as much for myself as for Nancy, by asking about the day's classes and teachers, the friends she'd be catching up with. Which brought me back to thoughts of Micky: not the schoolgirl Micky but the fuckslut Micky who sucked cock and ate spunk. Nancy's classmate. My fuckmate. My erection grew at the thoughts.

"It'll be nice to see Micky after yesterday's win," Nancy said.

"Yes," I replied.

We'd arrived. Nancy got out of the car. "Bye, Daddy. Love you."

"Bye, Nancy. Say hello to Micky for me."

I drove home. I cleared away the breakfast things, washed up and put the dishes on the drainer. I emptied all the bins downstairs.

I made a fresh coffee. The morning's events had triggered recollection of my late teenage and similarly uncomfortable revelations of my sexual urges. After I'd discovered the disproportionate pleasure generated by a good, quick wank in the shower, I started to practice, learning how to toss myself off, learning the triggers that got me in the mood: learning the diversions that delayed my climax. In those early days page three girls did it for me: a nice pair of tits, a winning, coy and cheeky smile; a rising hard-on, a wank, a spunk shot.

More revealing images became the norm when I discovered men's magazines: the sight of those girls' fannies, their pubic hair, their parted legs. Harder, longer lasting stiffies as my sexual experience and tolerance developed; producing more, thicker, surely more manly spunk. The images of generous breasts with the hairs of their bushes barely covering their wanton cunts. Their cunts, tits and mouths to be splattered with my jizz.

My Mum found my stash of magazines.

I had returned from school, unaware of Mum's discoveries. As soon as I was in the door, she told me to come with her to my room. There on the bed was a bundle of about twenty magazines. My favourite girls were easy to see from their turned back pages. Some of those I most fancied, who most often had me beating my meat, had images now blurred by my sperm, my offering. Mum sat on the bed; the evidence laid out beside her. She surely knew that I wanked. To see my habits so definitively exposed, so full frontal, breeched the polite pretence that these things didn't really happen.

"Come here and sit down, Alec. What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Mum. Don't," I pleaded. "Most of us at school have the mags. It's not too bad really, is it?"

"You'll be starting university in a couple of months. You'll have chances to be doing it for real. Do you imagine all your handjobs on these two-dimensional tits and cunts are ...?"

Mum hardly ever swore. Where was she going with this?

"Mum. I'm sorry this has upset you. I like the girls really. I know I shouldn't do that but..."

"No, no, Alec. You should." Mum's voice was softer again. "I know it's something teenagers do. Grown men do it. You'll be doing it for the rest of your life." Mum breathed deeply. "Have you been with any of the girls at school?"

The question made me blush. Had I been with girls at school? I'd been dancing at the senior prom; been trying to get my hand under a blouse during the last dance; been wanking off thinking about all the things I hadn't done with them. I knew instinctively I'd never been with a girl in the sense Mum meant.

"Well?" she said.

"No Mum. I've never been with a girl. Not like that," I said nodding towards my mags.

"I thought not. I'm pleased. Now, I want you to clear away your magazines. Have a shower and come back to your room. Wrap a towel round yourself. You won't need to get dressed."

I didn't know for certain what was happening. My subconscious anticipation provoked an erection that felt different from previous ones. Part of me hoped for something wickedly carnal; another part was thinking this couldn't be right.

The shower washed away my wilder thoughts and during the minutes in there I was back on familiar ground. A thorough wash and rinse all over, especially the important little places as Mum had taught me. A good rub down with clean, soft towels. I wrapped the largest one around me and headed back to my room.

Mum was in the hall. She was wearing a long crimson housecoat. It was folded tight, almost neck high, and finished below her knees, mid-calf. Mum's hair, blackish with the odd splash of snowy grey, was held in a loose perm, folding down over her ears, just kissing the bottom of her neck. She had dark brown eyes with long lashes. Her face was round and happy, the smile lines ever present. Even in the swaddle of the housecoat the curves of her large breasts and hips remained well defined.

"Alec, lie on your bed. I'll be with you in a minute."

The bedroom curtains were drawn, filtering the July sunshine. I sat on the bed, swung my feet up and lay back. My heartbeat knocked at my chest.

Mum came in to the room. She was carrying a small shopping bag. She sat on the bed and put the bag on the floor. Her housecoat was unbuttoned. I could see a bit of her bra. Mum leaned towards me and untucked the bath towel from under my arm. As if opening the pages of a book she spread the towel either side of me.

"Mum! I've got nothing on. What are you doing."

"Shh, Alec. Let me look."

I was quite skinny at eighteen. I wore my hair short. Apart from that and some ball-fluff my body was hairless. Mum was looking interestedly. She turned slightly, her thigh almost parallel with mine, looking over and round my body with the occasional glance directly at me. Her eyes stopped on mine and rested there. Her look now suggested something: something I was unsure of; sinful hunger; unspeakable lust? Like that innate sexual urge I'd first experienced in a shower. Yet, both magnified and concentrated. My cock had grown rock hard, pointing towards my navel and tugging slightly at my nutsack as it twitched. I reached for the towel to cover myself. Mum stopped me.

"No, Alec. Let me look. Your cock is good. Your hard-on is good. I want to see it."

Mum stood up, facing me from the side of the bed. She opened the housecoat, pulled it back off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Her large breasts were cupped in a blueish purple bra. A clasp between her breasts held the bra closed. Below that the swell of her belly receded above the more solid rise of her pubic mound. Her knickers matched the bra. They were tight, up between her legs forming a crease inside the opening of her cunt.

Mum unclipped her bra and bared her breasts. Her nipples were like plump little cherries. She pulled down her knickers. She stood up and I had my first sight of her cunt. Her bush was neatly trimmed and shaped as a small triangle of hair, its point at top of her slit.

"Alec. Do you want to kiss my tits? Do you want to finger-fuck my cunt? Do you want to come for your Mum?

Mum put one knee on the mattress then swung round and over my body. She was kneeling astride me, her short cunt hairs pricking at my balls. She cupped both hands beneath her left breast raising the nipple to her mouth. She licked round the nipple and its large areola.

I felt a reflex clenching in my penis.

"Mum, I'm going to come."

With a practiced dexterity, Mum had my cock in her hand. Her thumb and forefinger circled the bottom of my bellend, stemming the tide. She pulled down and up: the circle of her fingers nudging my bellend on every upstroke. I came. The jizz rose from my spunkhole and Mum gripped tighter as successive spurts of cum rose from my cock and trickled down over her fingers. She raised her fingers to her mouth licking the semen from each. She bent down and slid the length of my cock into her mouth. Her tongue lapped up every drop of cum. She sat up again, licking her lips, leaving, then removing little trails of my spunk. Mum closed her mouth and swallowed.

"Alec, that was very good."

She leaned over and lifted the shopping bag up from the floor.

"Let's swap places," she said.

She got off me and I shuffled out from under her. Mum sat up with her back against the headboard. She bent her legs upwards and outward, keeping her feet on the mattress. I could see the inner lips of her cunt, parted around her fuck hole. I could see her arsehole.

"Alec, close your eyes. Keep them closed till I say open."

So soon after ejaculating, I could feel my cock responding again. I wanted more. I closed my eyes. There was a rustling noise. Then a sucking, almost squelching sound. There was a rhythm to the sound: in, out, in, out.

"Open your eyes, Alec."

Mum's cunt was tightly filled with an enormous flesh coloured dildo. She slid it out and in again.

"Your cock's next. I want your second load of spunk for Mummy,"

Mum removed the dildo. Her fuck hole was bigger. She pulled her knees back, lifting her feet off the mattress. She waved me towards her and my newly erect cock slid all the way in. Her cunt lips wrapped my cock in her juicy moistness. Mum rocked her knees back and forth so with little movement on my part her rocking cunt tossed me off.

"Spunk inside Mummy. Fuck your Mummy. Give me all your cum."

And my balls were emptied. Mum pulled my head towards hers and she kissed me full on the mouth. A lover's kiss.

We lay together, the novice and his mistress, the mother and her fuck-toy son.

"Before you leave for uni, we'll do more of this. You'll get the confidence to ask about other things we can do. Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes. But, Mum, is that ri...?

"It's fine, Alec. You love me. I love you. I've wanted you inside me for a long time and I suspect you've had me playing a part in some of your wanking. This just makes it more real; more firm. At least until you came! Dad did the same for your sister before she went off to uni last year."

Christ, I thought. Ailsa and Dad. Me and Mum. And thought of little else during the next couple of months as Mum let me fuck her in all the ways I cared to imagine.

"Right. You tidy up here," she said, picking up her dildo, gathering her scattered clothes and walking out of the room."

Remembering all that only took as long as my coffee lasted, about fifteen minutes maybe. Fifteen minutes: passing time's cruel precis of a unique evening of sexual discovery.

I put my cup in the sink and filled it with cold water. A quick trot upstairs and I was at my desk, the works' computer up and running, and I was preparing an outline of the materials requisition for our newest project. I was lucky to have the experience that made so many parts of my job straightforward. I still got a kick out of getting the go-ahead from clients and passing buildings that I'd played a part in. I spoke with a couple of colleagues about stock and manufacturing schedules. After a quick lunch, I ran through some provisional drawings with our client. My computer alarm chimed at three in the afternoon and I went to collect Nancy.

Nancy skipped towards the car and was quickly in, safety-belt clipped. We were on the way.

"Thanks, Daddy. Are you ok?"

"Yes." I said no more.

She needed to confess her guilt. To reaffirm my advantage. To be a willing participant in all that would transpire.

"You're not really, are you, Daddy. You're still upset with me. Please forgive me. I'm sorry about this morning."

Her surrender was imminent.

"Please tell me what to do Daddy. Let me prove I love you."

My cock stiffened, signalling my victory.

"We'll get it all sorted out at home," I said, trying to sound uninterested: inwardly cheering.

A few minutes later we were home. I unlocked the door. Nancy crossed the hall towards the stairs.

"Nancy. Go straight to your room. Don't change. Yes, have a quick wee: wash your hands; whatever. No more than five minutes. When I come up, I want you sitting in your room waiting for me. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy."

There was nothing I had to do downstairs. I wanted Nancy to wait and wonder. I moved a few things round the kitchen worktop and watched five minutes tick by on the wall-clock. I went upstairs.

Nancy was sitting on the end of her bed feigning interest in the old school photo on her wall. I sat down beside her. I put my hand in hers and squeezed gently. She turned and looked at me. I held her hand a little more tightly.

"Nancy, when you saw me this morning, in my room remember, you should have gone immediately, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, Daddy. But I was surprised. I was confused. I didn't really know what was happening. I...," she said.

She was obviously thinking. And now another admission, another confession. And more forgiveness needed.

"Daddy, I was very upset in school this morning. Micky knew something was up. So, I told her. No, Daddy, not about you. I made it up. I said Ronan was home from college for a long weekend and I'd seen him in his room. I said his door had been open a little and that's how I'd seen. I told her about your, sorry, his willy and the mess and stuff. Micky was really good actually. I know all that stuff should be private but Micky said one of her cousins had told her. Stuff the teachers left out in sex-ed."

"Stuff? What stuff? What did Micky tell you? And don't say stuff! What did she say."

"It's embarrassing, Dad. I can't."

"Yes, you can. Tell me!"

"She said boys have fun rubbing their willies: and sperm comes out; like it would if a man and woman were making a baby. Is that what I saw this morning Dad? You having fun? I'm sorry I saw you. I'm really sorry. Dad?"

"Micky was very naughty telling you that. And you were naughty telling her. The reason the school don't do it in sex-ed is because it's something for parents to tell their children about when the time is right. You're eighteen Nancy and I should explain it all to you before you go to college in October. Especially now, if you and Micky are speaking about it. First though your misbehaviour: put yourself across my knee. You deserve a spanking."

Nancy was shocked. However, she thought she'd done wrong. She was about to learn some of the many things she might do to get Daddy back on side.

She leaned over, her pleated skirt across my right thigh. Her midriff lay across my other leg. Her head was now a little lower, her bunches pointing towards the floor. I cupped her training bra while adjusting her slightly. I lifted the skirt up and over onto her blouse. Her bum cheeks filled her tight, white panties. Small, pert little mounds under virgin cotton. I laid my hand down, touching both cheeks. Might she feel my cock rising and throbbing?