I was feeling a little sad as I watched my daughter pack. It had been three years since her Mom passed away and now my little girl was going off to college. I was surprised to find myself holding back a tear as I contemplated living alone for the first time since my own college days.
Karen finished packing almost reluctantly. “Dad,” she said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” I said. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Well, yeah. Kind of. It’s about Cindy.” Cindy had been my daughter’s best friend since grade school. A lovely girl, she came from a troubled home. It wasn’t unusual for the cops to visit Cindy’s home. Drugs, booze, violence. Somehow Cindy kept her nose clean while her parents made the police blotter in our local paper.
“See, the situation at her house has gotten bad and I figured since I’m not gonna be here much maybe Cindy could take my room. Just ‘til she can find something else!”
I thought about it for a moment. Karen looked at me like she was going to cry if I said no. “What the hell.” I thought. “I don’t want to be all alone in the house, anyway. And Cindy could use a break from her family.”
“Call her.” I said. “Have her come over tonight and we’ll talk about it.” Karen squealed and dove for the phone.
“Thank you, Daddy!” she said. “You have no idea what this means!”
She was right. I didn’t.
Cindy moved in as my daughter was moving out. We had discussed some house rules and she had no problem with them. It felt a little strange having someone else’s daughter in my little girl’s room, but Cindy was a pleasure from the start.
Cindy is what is often referred to as a type A personality. She worked two jobs and attended classes at the county college. When she wasn’t doing that she was exercising, yoga being her favorite. She co-opted the exercise space I had built in the basement for her routine. I was surprised when I went down there and found Cindy in a sports bra and panties twisting herself up like a pretzel. At 5’4” she reminded me of a young Courtney Cox with her short, black hair and petite body. At the moment her firm young behind was displayed to me, as was her pussy mound straining against her panties. When she noticed me she grinned unselfconsciously. “Just trying to keep the flab off.” She said.
“You have nothing to worry about.” I replied. I returned upstairs and my erection reminded me that I hadn’t been with a woman since my wife died.
Cindy and I slipped into a comfortable routine. Very often we would sit at the kitchen table and talk. For an eighteen year old she had a good head on her shoulders. She didn’t have much of a social life, but that was by choice. Cindy was determined to be a success in business and didn’t want to be distracted by romantic concerns. Her family life left her with a strong desire to control her own life and not merely conform to other people’s expectations. “What I do with my life is nobody’s business but my own.” She stated flatly.
I had to admit, Cindy was being one hell of a fine “substitute daughter”. Except maybe for her habit of walking around in nothing but her bra and panties. I began to have some very unfatherly thoughts. Especially the one time she exited the bathroom stark naked. I don’t think she knew I was home. She paused in the hallway to adjust the towel on her head and I was able to drink in the whole of her loveliness. Her firm, perky breasts sat high on her chest, her puffy, pink nipples stiffened in the cool air. Her flat tummy gave way to a neatly trimmed bush. Her cute, little behind perched atop two exquisitely shaped legs. Even her feet were cute. Then she bent at the waist to fix the towel and I swear I could see the moist pink slit of her pussy. Then she disappeared into her room, leaving me with another massive hard-on.
Late that same night I found myself unable to sleep. Thinking I heard something unusual I crept from my bed to investigate. As I approached Cindy’s door I heard an odd but familiar buzzing sound. When I heard her sigh I knew exactly what was going on. Cindy was masturbating! My cock stiffened immediately. In the dead quiet of the early morning I could hear everything she was doing, each sigh, every quiet moan. The sound of her vibrator told me when she was teasing her clit and when she plunged it deep into her pussy. I could hear the bedsprings creak as she writhed in pleasure.
I did something I hadn’t done in years. I pulled out my dick and began stroking myself. As Cindy sought her own release I imagined fucking her. I imagined sucking her pretty pink tits and squeezing her ripe, young ass. I could hear her actions becoming more frantic as she approached her climax and I matched her paced. Finally she squealed and groaned and I knew she was coming. So was I. I blasted the first load in a long time, feeling like it would never end.
