Brooe's Adventure with Dad

** All characters are over 18 **

Seeing the smooth, sensuous beauty curving between his daughters legs, which were slightly open & relaxed.

It called to him and he was sure it was inviting him to caress, like a cat rolling over in front of you.

He was sure his daughter would not have put it into that category, but his fevered brain, along with the controlling procreation-device were both armed and ready to populate the world through any suitable receptacle. This had created a drug like sense of justification.

He moved his hand, careful not to graze the inner thighs and send a message of intention coursing through her senses. He gently ran his index finger from the top of the cleft, soft and very warm, across the clitoral hood and delicately in between the soft inner folds, symmetrical and tiny, hiding until touched. Ever so slightly firm, filling with blood and firming to his ministrations.

He noted with excitement clear moisture, as he rummaged with his roving digit.

The noise of the car was covering any sound of his finger, moving deeper down into the entrance and interior of the sacred place.

"Dad! - what are you doing?"

"I.."

"It tickles and i was relaxing!" Brookes musical chiding, full of sparkle and humor as she told him off, surprised and stopped all the rest of the blood in his body, formerly thought to be congregating downstairs, draining from his face.

"it is wet, though - down there", she softly intoned. " Oooh!"

Repeating her fathers actions, the sensations were carried as if by lightning to her brain of what the naughty traitorous part of her wanted.

Pulling her finger out and examining it, she blew her fathers mind by giving it a lick.

"Its okay, I'll try your idea.." He watched as she reached into her bag, and with excitement almost too much to bear for him, her hand returned with a tampon applicator, loaded. He had, some time ago made a comment leading to this solution if there was 'moisture'. Perhaps you could leave the panties off in summer, and use a tampon for that - it would save laundry?

To his surprise, it had worked. He couldn't believe his luck with some of the shows he was getting around the house. The sights of the strings waving in the breeze under a skirt of dress gave pleasure in illicit glances.

Now, in full view, she did that incredibly sensuous movement. thrusting her lower torso forward and legs apart more now.

She pushed the plastic apparatus in deep into her vagina, warm and moist and inviting any visitor. He watched as the finger followed to locate it.

Then it looked like like item was being moved around a little, almost like she was using it as a??

Reluctantly her ministrations seemed to stop and the glistening wet tube came out, leaving the string poking out, dangling from the innocent, now tight folds of outer labia, like a cat with a mouse tail sticking out its mouth.

He was surprised and honored to see this relaxed open show, and the sexual nature of the event meant he shivered with adrenaline.

"All done", she said brightly, "I hope I didn't get anything on the seat!"

"Perhaps you can relax better in the back?" Unable to cope with much more, she climbed into the back where hopefully he couldn't see her and be distracted.

It was too much to bear, and something he thought he would be free from.

Without his wife and older daughter around, he was hoping the rampant build up of lust and cravings would lessen & he could have a nice normal platonic holiday.

To his horror, and growing excitement, she sat in the middle of the back, relaxed back. As her legs relaxed, he was greeted from the rear view mirror, the perfect pouting pussy, clean, white and in full view under the dress, exacerbated by the string limply dangling.

It was a weakness of his and one he had kept secret, seeing an innocent, untouched (well, almost) pussy with evidence that something was inside it.

Like it was designed for, the evidence was there to see that there was something pushed, forced up there.

Where anyone would want to be - thrusting, moving, with sweating, moans, moisture. Culminating in release, blessed satisfaction of a job well done, sending the fluid and giving the afterglow.

(And giving the consenting couple room in their minds to think of other things, mundane things. Such as cleaning the house, working on a project, going somewhere, released from the primal drive.)

With inevitability of a hard cock, needing release and unable to give it the satisfaction of a job well done, and all the mess it would create, he gently placed his palm over the end of the oversensitive, hair triggered member.

With the pressure and no movement, it now grew even harder, and shot in hard bucking movements. 6 pulses of pearly white cum, all down the leg area of his shorts, capped and sent into the material by the pressure.

Still enjoyable from the hard pressure on the tip, but nothing like the release of shooting it, pumping, through the air, landing in the nubile firm body of, well any of the girls in his family. Ahh, well dreams are free he thought. Not for a few days.

Attention now redirected back to the task in hand, and overwhelmed with pure love and admiration for his daughter, his family, the world in post orgasmic bliss, he felt like a saint again, a member of normal society.