Brooe's Adventure with Dad

** All characters are over 18!! **

Brookes' summer holiday

Brooke and her dad were going on holiday alone, to a small resort town with a lagoon, beach and a camping ground.

This caravanning holiday was an annual pilgrimage, but mum and her older sister had their own plans so they decided to go together.

She was an untouched natural beauty, slim and slender, Her long 'black coffee' dark hair was as full and sensuous as the rest of her, yet she remained resolutely free of pretension and the high maintenance that comes with all of that.

Her tiny hourglass frame made her look almost fragile but her muscle tone was rock solid due to gruelling ballet over the years.

Her father had watched her carefully as she grew and attended most of her weekly practices and performances alone, giving them a close bond.

She loved pretty small dresses and the like, wearing simple items that accentuated her beauty.

Today, it was a tiny surfy black cotton dress, mid thigh with shoestring straps.

And it was driving her father crazy. Sitting next to him on the passenger's seat, laid back a little for relaxation and dozing on the long warm journey, he couldn't help but notice the loose straps and material as she moved.

The hem twisted and rode up, up, up the sunkissed legs, scissoring and flopping around.

The oblique angle he had meant the gentle rise of her chest, holding the dress in two almost conical peaks, unswayed by gravity, poked up like small hills.

'Sexy hills with hard caps, the nipples would crown them' his fevered brain imagined.

After watching so many tight dressed performances he was left wondering if the sole purpose of ballet, and everything else young girls do was designed to tease, titillate, and generally frustrate.

Her father, who had a insatiable weakness for girls.

He worshipped their beauty. A little too much.

Watching, never acting. Not lecherous, just observant to every cameltoe, every gape, every downblouse, towel slip.

He was wrong of course. The nipples weren't hard.

As one wayward strap fell down her arm, the angle enabled him to see in all its glory, in plain view the A, possibly B cup peak, nipple soft and virginal, petal pink in slight contrast to her evenly tanned body. Did she sunbathe naked?

His instinct kicked in and he reached for the first time. To pull up the strap, he would reason to himself when thinking of that day. However his fingertips grazed gently over the surface, He felt the firm youthful skin, the even softer areola, slightly puffy. He cupped the tiny shape in his hand a little, before realizing - One, prison would await? And two, it was worth it.

Pausing his ascent to the summit again, he moved the material to stop his roving eyes continuing their lifelong caress of the landscape before it burnt them out.

Meanwhile, in his loose pale shorts, the inevitable consequence of all this watching, longing and waiting for the taboo, which opportunity has so presented him, was his solid almost painful member.

His hairless shaved cock was doing a dance all its own, jerking involuntarily up and down with each new piece of the lust driven spectacle. The dance of life, designed to continue the survival of the species had resulted in a frenzy of hard excitement, coupled with the loose material rubbing against the tip. Already leaking, wet, jerking like it too was trying to see.

Which it was. The friction against the shorts with no underwear was threatening to soak through and make wet spots plain to see.

More than that, as he adjusted it - it was aching, almost painful, The sensations of the head was exquisite. He needed to stop or there was going to be a happy ending, along with an embarrassing dampness that she, anyone would see,

He went back to the road with his eyes again, glad that was over and letting the inches of the towering manhood down one leghole to rest. Still leaking clear fluid, perfect for touching. And rubbing against the leg, almost hot in its signal to the brain. If he thought about it, it twitched, then got very close to its goal of ejaculation.

Get a grip. he thought. Glancing over fondly, at the innocent sweet daughter, madness slightly abated, he noticed with shock that the hem had now reached the juncture of the legs and the coveted prize of all males was at a better angle and going to be in sight.

Cursing himself and his bad luck, he took more sighting missions.

Would she be wearing those black mesh panties, seethrough in the front, allowing the viewer unfettered access to the sight of her slit?

He jerked the wheel and almost drove off the road when he noticed no material, only bare skin. Still tanned, her perfect closed cleft was in front of him, deep, rounded and shapely, and perfectly bare. Smooth, inviting. He could reach...